Chapter Text
You scowl at the empty suitcase on your bed, packing things in and then digging them out again when you decide you don't need them. You're moving in with Dave tomorrow and the nerves are starting to kick in. You're not nervous about seeing Dave, oh no, it's the thought of seeing his older brother that's had you biting your nails for the past few days. It's not that Bro Strider is particularly intimidating. In fact, he's never even been mean to you in the slightest. You just find yourself growing anxious of meeting the older Strider since the last time you'd seen him had been when you were fourteen, three years ago. The problem was that you'd had the biggest crush on him since you even knew you liked guys, and it kind of grew when Dave showed you pictures of him in compromising positions on his puppet-porn site for a joke.
Your suitcase finally packed, albeit messily, you lounge lazily on your bed, and look up at the ceiling, letting yourself drift into unconsciousness and dreams of Dave's attractive older brother.
When you wake you groggily peer over at your alarm clock – you can’t see a thing. You groan and grab your glasses from your bedside table, unfolding them and placing them on the bridge of your nose. You try again. The time is 6:17am and your flight to Houston leaves in three hours – you want to get there for at least an hour before the plane leaves. Your stomach grumbles and you realize that you slept through the night and completely forgot about eating dinner. Why didn’t your dad wake you up!?
You drag yourself out of bed, slip on your fluffy slippers and head down stairs, scowling at the creepy clown figurines and pictures strewn around the house. You smell the cake before you see it, and you poke your head into the kitchen only to get a face full of vanilla sponge. This day is not off to a good start.
You wipe off your glasses and don’t give your dad the pleasure of knowing he got you good.
“What’s for breakfast?” You mumble, vanilla sponge crumbs still stuck in your hair and eyebrows.
“You just ate breakfast,” he says, dancing around the kitchen.
You groan again and bury your head in your arms, “Daaaaaaaaaaad.”
Your dad gives a hearty laugh and ruffles your hair, “Kidding, son!” he sings and places a plate of bacon and fried eggs in front of you. You eye it hungrily before picking up your fork and scooping up some eggs. The rest doesn’t last two minutes.
Full up and smelling of vanilla, you go back upstairs to take a shower and brush your teeth, remembering to put your toothbrush back in your case. You comb through your wet hair with your fingers and grin, your overbite clearly showing – you don’t care.
You are almost bouncing with excitement by the time your dad is packing your suitcase into the back of his car. You quickly dash upstairs and check your room to make sure you haven’t forgotten anything. You haven’t.
You are at the part of the airport where non-flyers aren’t allowed to come with you anymore, and you turn to your dad. He looks at you with a big smile, but you can see the sadness in his eyes.
“Well, son,” he says to you, “this is where I leave you.” He pulls you into a huge hug and pats your back.
“I’ll come back to see you at least twice a year dad!” You pat his back too, feeling tears prick at your eyes.
“Good,” he says, and pulls away from the hug, putting his hands on your shoulders and giving you a sad smile, “and don’t forget: no kissing girls!” He shouts, making sure everyone hears him. You feel your face heating up as a nearby group of girls giggle at you, but you grin and chuckle anyway.
“Yep dad,” you say, looking at your watch, “woah I’m going to be late!” You give your dad another short hug and say goodbye.
“Have fun, son!” He shouts as your back disappears.
The plane journey was not as bad as you’d thought, you slept through most of it and when you weren't asleep you were content just to look at the clouds and landscapes that swept by.
You land in Houston and get yourself a cup of coffee. You remember that Dave’s bro is picking you up because Dave has some important DJ duties or something. You look for the guy you remember crushing on when you were fourteen; tall and muscular, black cap, leather fingerless gloves and those dumb pointy anime shades.
You soon spot him lounging over two seats in the waiting area and your heart skips a beat. He looks exactly as you remember him, but not as tall as you remember – probably because you've grown so much. When he stands up to greet you, you realize that he’s actually only a few inches taller than you, but still enough to make you tilt your head up slightly.
“Hey, kid,” he says to you, “long time no see.”
“Yeah, it’s been ages,” you agree, not knowing whether to put out your hand for a shake or something, but he decides to put you out of your misery and just takes two of your bags off you while you carry your suitcase. He begins to walk ahead and you kind of struggle to keep up with his pace with your suitcase trailing behind you, but he doesn’t seem to notice or slow down.
You arrive at the Strider apartment after a long, awkward car journey with Bro. Bro helps you with your bags and asks if you’d like anything to drink.
“Um, do you have any tea?” You ask, sitting down on the sofa and twiddling your thumbs.
“What do you think this is? A restaurant? No, we only have water or apple juice, kiddo” he replies, seeming to watch you closely, but you can’t really tell with his eyes behind shades.
You glower at him; you hate it when he calls you 'kid' or 'kiddo'. “Oh, I'll have apple juice then.”
“No, that’s off limits,” he says flatly, “me and Dave only.”
“Fine,” you say, stroking one of the furry pillows that has somehow found its way into your lap, “I’ll have nothing then.”
“Fine, whatever, you can have apple juice,” Bro grumbles and within about thirty seconds he’s by your side again with a rather small, half-filled glass of juice, "I suppose you should get some privileges now that you're living in Casa del Strider."
Bro sits next to you on the sofa, grabbing the remote and turning on the TV, flicking through channels until he finds Spongebob, he grins at you. You smile back and he quickly turns back to the screen, his poker face back in place.
You hope Dave will be home soon because sitting alone with Bro is starting to make you feel a little uncomfortable. You are sure you can feel his eyes on you, but every time you peek at him from the corner of your eye all you see is his shades. Damn, you need to get a pair of them.
You watch Spongebob with Bro for about an hour before you start to get impatient. You don't even really like Spongebob.
“Hey Bro?” You say, turning to face him. His head turns towards you so you know he’s listening. “How long is Dave going to be?”
“I dunno, kid,” he says, a slight smile on his face, “why?”
You swallow and shrug, turning away from his gaze, “I haven’t seen him in, like, three years.”
Bro stares at you for a while longer before turning back to the TV, you feel like a massive weight has been lifted off you. You don’t know why you feel so nervous around Bro – you’d stayed here before and not had any trouble with him. Now that you think about it, you and Bro had always gotten along well, even after your crush on him started. You realize the reason you suddenly feel so weird around Bro is because you are old enough to act on it.
You peek at Bro from behind your glasses, but he’s still looking at the TV. You figure it’s safe to stare so you just sit there and admire him, what you would do for a body like that. You must spend a little too long with your eyes in his direction because when you move your gaze to his face he’s staring right at you. Shit. You quickly look away and pretend you were just looking idly around the room – you don’t think he fell for it. You quickly look back at him and his eyes are still on you, or at least his face is facing you, you can’t really tell for the shades. He has that small smile again, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking, and he finds it amusing. Oh wow, this is not how you wanted this to go.
You stumble for some sort of escape from your embarrassment, but you just end up stuttering out a few 'um's and 'uh's before coming out with a real sentence, “I’m just going to go unpack my stuff, Dave’s room, right?”
Bro nods, “Yup, unless you wanted to sleep in my room," he grins, but you ignore his comment, despite how fast it's making your heart beat, and scurry off to unpack your bags. .
You’re surprised how big Dave’s bedroom is, it can easily fit Dave’s bed and your mattress on the floor, and Dave still has enough room for all his stuff. You take as long as possible setting up and folding all your clothes to avoid having to sit with Bro again. You make the mistake of leaving the door open.
You finish folding your clothes and when you turn around Bro is leaning in the doorway observing you. You jump, your eyes widening and your heart almost escaping your chest. "Jesus Christ, Bro. You scared the shit out of me."
Bro smirks, “You look cute when you're scared,” he slouches in the doorway all cool and casual.
You take that comment in for a second, “Uh, thanks, I guess?” You say, not sure where he's going with this. Wait... is he flirting with you? You tell yourself that he definitely isn't. He's just messing with you like heterosexual males do, right? But neither of you are heterosexual, so-
Bro snaps you out of that train of thought and takes the words right out of your head. "Hey, chill out, kid, I'm just messing with ya," he says, leaning against the door frame with that smirk on his face and his hands in the pockets of his black sweatpants like some kind of model from a hot-dude calendar. There’s a gap between the waist-band of his pants and his white t-shirt which just adds to your frustration. He rocks back on his heels a for bit and doesn’t seem to be thinking about leaving, and you don’t move either.
You break the silence, “Um... so... yeah." You aren’t usually lost for words but Bro seems to be your weak point when it comes to conversing. You try again, “Well, that’s me done, took quicker than I expected, haha, hell yeah!” Oh God, you sound like a complete moron.
On your way to the door you knock over a few things on Dave's shelf, which you pick up, trying to look as cool and composed as you possibly can while feeling like you're being baked in an oven. When you reach the door, with your face feeling like it might explode from being so hot, you find that Bro doesn't make any move whatsoever to let you through. You figure you could duck under his arm, but you’re not sure you’d fit through and it would be pretty embarrassing if you didn't. You meet his eyes through his shades, which makes small goosebumps prickle at your skin. He’s wearing a crooked smile that makes your heart skip a beat or two. He leans down towards you and your faces are only an inch away from each other; so close that you can feel his warm breath brush your chin and your eyes flutter shut expectantly. Nothing happens.
You open your eyes, confused, and Bro moves his face away from yours, “Hah! You thought!” He says, with a smug smile on his face. He moves his arm to let you through and you groan and push past him. Wow, do you feel like an idiot.