Dammit, Egbert

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(Language warning in this book for people who follow me/read this but don't like swearing!)

Your name is Dave Strider. You are currently hanging out with your best bro, John Egbert, in his house watching shitty movies. Or, that is, you were before he fell asleep on you half an hour ago. And when you say he fell asleep on you, you're being literal. His head is lying on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your waist. His face is squished against you and his glasses are pressed uncomfortably into his face. The only sound aside from the low volume of the awful movie John picked out is his soft snores.

It's adorable as fuck.

You don't even know how you got into this situation. All you know is that one minute you and John were hanging out, and the next he's asleep on your shoulder. He did say that he was getting tired, and it was late, but it's his house. Couldn't he have just gone upstairs to his room?

You're trying to keep your cool, but John is making it very hard when he's being this cute. You gingerly wrap your arm around your sleeping friend, trying and failing to pay attention to the movie. He smiles softly in his sleep and cuddles closer to you. God dammit, Egbert.

Ignoring the blush slowly creeping its way onto your face, you attempt once again to stay attentive to the film. Like before, you fail miserably. You look over at John, which isn't that hard since he's so close to you. All you really have to do is turn your head slightly. Looking at him this close, he's even cuter, which you honestly didn't think was even possible.

You smile gently, leaning your head down to lay on top of his.

However, this was apparently a bad move, as he starts stirring. Fuck. He's waking up.

John opens his eyes slightly, and you immediately lift your head from his and act as if you were watching the movie the entire time. You try to move your arm, but it's too late. "Dave?" You glance at him in what you hope is a nonchalant way. He blinks a couple of times before seemingly realizes the position the two of you are in and jumps away to the other side of the couch. You pretend not to miss the warmth.

"Shit, Dave, I'm so sorry!" he says, nearly yelling. "I don't know what I was thinking, I just-" he rambles like this for at least a good 5 minutes. You watch silently, not really listening to what he's saying. He's kind of cute when he's flustered.

"Dave? Dave!" You snap back to reality to John waving his hand frantically in front of your face. "Did you hear what I said?"

You blink a few times, and mentally facepalm for not listening. "Uh, no," you tell him, trying not to stare into his eyes for too long, "sorry," He smiles and shakes his head.

"I asked why you didn't wake me up," John replies. He's still smiling, and you really want to say that you aren't in love, but holy shit.

Unfortunately for you, it's really late, you're tired as hell, John is cute as hell, and your mouth has a mind of its own. "You were cute, and I didn't want to wake you," you say. John's eyes widen, and his mouth opens in surprise. "Uh, fuck, I mean-"

"Dave," he says, quietly. Fuck. You close your eyes tightly and brace yourself for the inevitable Egbert I Am Not A Homosexual™ speech. "You're cute too," You open your eyes to see John smiling again, his cheeks a light pink.

You blink a couple of times just to make sure that this is real, that this is happening, that John actually just said that. But he's still sitting there with that smile, that goddamned smile, that makes you melt every time you see it. "Yeah, but, uh, you're cuter," you stutter, your face growing warmer with each word.

John's smile grows, and he scoots closer to you to hug you. You hug back almost immediately, burying your face into his shoulder, smiling softly. Your cool kid Strider facade is lost, but you honestly couldn't care less at the moment. You don't even mind your shades digging into your face as John holds you tighter. All that matters now is John.

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