Chapter Text
"And like- so like, if the start of the trail gets broken off or they like... uh. They like, make the circle trail more prominent or whatever then like... they get confused because their stupid little pea brains can't comprehend stepping away from the bullshit for half a second to... to get an outside perspective and so they just keep walking in a circle until they like. starve or like... dehydrate? I dunno. Hold on a sec-"
Dave lifted the bong again, placing his lips in the mouthpiece and fumbling around underneath himself for the lighter. His brows furrowed for a second, and he tilted the bong slightly, glass never leaving his lips as he shuffled his legs around on the stained fabric car seat, confused. He glanced over towards the driver's seat, gaze finally locking onto the bright green little fucker, sitting plain as day on John's thigh.
Dave leaned over with his unoccupied right hand at first, before snorting and switching the bong over so he could use his left instead of getting all up in John's grill unnecessarily. He flicked the lighter to life, lowering the flame to the half-smoked bowl and taking a gentle, steady breath in, watching smoke gradually fill the chamber. Once the amount of smoke was sufficiently excessive, he tucked the lighter between his thighs and pulled the bowl, taking all of the smoke in in one even breath.
"You think you could like... manufacture an ant spiral? Like, lure them into looping back onto their own trail?" He started, pulling away from the bong. "Honestly you could probably just put a bunch of ants in one contained area and it'd eventually h-ch-" Dave's face screwed up in displeasure as his lungs began to tingle with a familiar pre-burn sensation. Guess he should've breathed out before talking again.
His eyes began to water as the burning grew worse, and he let out a small, strained "aw, fuck" before exploding into a coughing fit, smoke tumbling out of his mouth as he tried to resist the spasming of his lungs.
—
At this point, John couldn't quite tell whether his own high made whatever Dave was talking about- ant spirals? Huh?- make little to no sense, or if the half bowl his best bro had smoked made his usual tangents exponentially more confusing. Either way John was still pretty sure he was at least somewhat following his train of thought, even if he didn’t remember how they got onto talking about ants in the first place. Does it matter? Probably not. If he thought about it too hard he'd absolutely lose any semblance of understanding he had of this conversation. The beginning of which was now lost to time and not worth thinking about anymore, he decided.
John watched Dave from the driver's seat as he managed to interrupt himself twice in a row, once looking for the lighter that John didn't even realize he still had, to snorting out a laugh as he watched him choke on his own hit mid-sentence.
"Heheh jeez man, don't die. How lame would it be if your last words were some bullshit about- uh, manufacturing ant spirals?" John said in between laughs, only struggling a little bit to find the right words and/or remember what Dave was just talking about before he fell into his coughing fit. Funny how fleeting memory is for trying to put together sentences as you're saying them.
He reached over and gave his friend a few helpful back slaps - the kind that probably never actually help but at least feel helpful in some way - as more smoke clouds were expelled from him, only adding to the haze that had been lingering in his car for, uh... however long it’d been. John had only done, what, maybe three hits? But that combined with his level of inexperience and the half bowl's worth of smoke trapped in his car with him had gotten him more than fairly high.
"Hey, tell you what- if you can manage to not die and pass that to me I'll make you the ant spiral of your dreams, dude." He added with a goofy grin he couldn’t manage or bother to shake.
—
Eyes watering and lungs burning, Dave lifted a hand to flip John off as aggressively as possible (which, given his current state being high off his ass, probably wasn't very threatening), wincing when his bro clapped his meaty ass hand on his back a little too firmly. He took in a ragged breath, trying in vain not to make it sound like he was choking on air in the lamest way possible. A couple of small chest spasms and a drawn out, dry throat clearing later, he replied, voice still noticeably hoarse.
"If I don't see you change your major to entomology like, tomorrow, I'm gonna be real hurt dude." He squinted at John suspiciously (an expression probably lost behind his shades now that he thought about it) before handing the bong over, jerking it back for a moment at first in a display of mock distrust. He decided to aim the lighter at John's lap for funsies, tossing it into the air with a calculated precision,
... only for it to hit the door behind his friend and fall unceremoniously into the little pocket of the pull handle. Damn it.
"Nice going dude." He announced after a moment of hesitation, deciding that pinning the blame on his stationary target was a whole lot less embarrassing than waiting for John to start teasing him about it. "Anyways-"
Wait... Anyways... Uh. Where the fuck was he? Bugs? Ants? Ants. His brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what the hell he had been saying before the hit he'd taken had started to fight back.
"Anyways... I dunno. Fuck ants." Sure. That was as good a sentence as any. Or at least passable considering how fuzzy his head felt at the moment.
—
John snorted back at Daves pitiful hand gesture, not really feeling the effect that he might have been trying to give off at all, really. If it weren't for Dave's ability to still try and save his dignity in some sense, John might've actually been a little worried at how much choking was going on in the seat next to him.
"Yeah dude, let me just get on that- just for you and all of your Ant Spiral Aspirations." He halfheartedly mocked, excessively furrowing his brow at Dave playing keep away with his bong. He snatched it out of Dave's grasp in the same attitude he was presented, water audibly jostled in the container. He half hoped he didn't spill any, not that the state of his car seats could get much worse. Honestly though, the THC-enhanced idea of saying "fuck it" to med school to go off and study bugs for a living was starting to sound nicer by the second. How much homework could a bug scientist really have compared to what he had to deal with, anyway?
Bug school related thoughts aside, John snapped back to the moment when something clattered behind where he sat angled toward Dave, not realizing until far too late that he was maybe probably supposed to catch whatever was thrown at him. Not even processing Dave's jab, he blinked, reaction time catching up to him as he turned awkwardly to root around in his door for- ah- the lighter. Of course.
He got himself situated once more, bong raised to his mouth. He didn't waste any time before he lit the bowl, eyebrow raised expectantly as Dave started speaking, trailed off, and started speaking again. He couldn't help the way the corners of his mouth contorted around the edge of the bong as he loaded the hit and subsequently inhaled a substantial amount, though leaving what he imagined could be enough for a couple last rounds for each of them. Watching Dave try and fail to maintain a single conversation was pretty funny. Not that he could do much better himself at the moment, though.
"I think they'd like. Kick you out if you fucked ants though," John exhaled with a thick cloud that quickly dissipated among the haze that hovered around the two of them, toeing the line with a familiar burn he was lucky enough to avoid the full consequences of, unlike Dave earlier. His head and jaw tingled at the added effects creeping their way over him as he half-assedly offered the bong back to Dave.
—
"I dunno dude, I think there are probably plenty of people in the field that like. Watched "Antz" wrong. Princess Bala can kind of get it not gonna lie." Dave drawled, hand closing around the neck of the bong. He fiddled with the bowl for a second, readjusting it so he could light it properly after the left-handed asshole sitting next to him went and made that shit all wonky.
"D'you know like... have you seen those hentai videos of like. Bug girls? Or like... huge-ass bugs sticking their bug cocks into big titty anime women?" Damn. His speech was usually plagued by some level of stream of consciousness, but he was starting to get to the point where he was speaking before he was thinking rather than at least at the same time. Honestly the fact that he was even noticing that was a sign that he wasn't high enough. Time to fix that.
"People are into that shit." He added as he put his lips to the bong, lit the bowl, and started to inhale, moving the flame of the lighter around in a tiny circle to light up the last bit of green left in the mostly blackened ground flower. As he pulled the bowl, he inhaled deeply, trying to will his lungs not to spasm as he felt the smoke start to irritate his airway. He held it for just a moment, exhaling before the burning got too unbearable, actually kind of surprised by the size of the cloud that was expelled, watching it swell, curling in on itself at the edges before dissipating into the rest of the haze that clung to the stuffy air of the car.
He made to hand the bong back to John, only realizing once his bro had taken it that he probably used up the last of the truly smokeable flower in the bowl. Aw, shit.
—
John stared with an incredulous half grin at Dave, not knowing how to handle the combined influx of how much that last hit was creeping its way over him, and dealing with the psychic damage that is listening to Dave try to describe the horrors of his browser history at the same time. He was simultaneously too high for any of this, and not nearly high enough at all.
"Ah-..." he faltered with a laugh, blinking a couple times. "No, Dave. I can't say I've had the pleasure of... of seeing whatever those bugs were doing to those anime girls..." He trailed off, unfortunately plagued by various haunting concepts that his friend had now thrust upon him in his affected state.
Blegh. Maybe some things are worse left to the imagination.
He watched Dave take another conveniently massive hit after leaving that statement hanging rather cryptically. Or maybe not cryptically, but that's what John decided it was in the moment. He leaned closer to Dave, eyeing him in a theatrical mock suspicion, lowering his head with a raised eyebrow.
"And by "people," does that include you?" He asked, hardly holding back an amused grin that somehow kept coming back, as Dave exhaled a huge cloud that made the solid haze around them that much denser, nearly completely obscuring their view of the dimly lit parking lot that John's car was parked in for the night.
"The longer I know you the more scared I get of what your search history must be like dude." He jabbed, absently taking the bong back from Dave, hardly even aware of the physical exchange taking place as he was putting every fiber of his being into forming coherent sentences.
Not even looking to see how much flower was left, John held the bong back up to his own mouth, lighting the bowl in some twisted weed fueled autopilot that somehow makes you keep going back for more the higher you get.
Mouth on the opening, fully prepped to take the last hit of the night, he circled the small flame around the inside of the dark, ashy bowl that extinguished as fast as it would light, and circled... and circled... until his mush of a brain caught up to why the hell wasn't this working?
"Dude, you took like- the last of the weed, you bogart." He accused lamely, as he finally gave up trying to light the long since dead ash in the bowl, no bite whatsoever to his words. "What the hell."
—
"Dude, you're missing out is all I'm sayin'." Dave replied rather cryptically. He watched John attempt to light the bowl, half amused, half apprehensive as he waited (a surprising amount of time) for him to realize why it wasn't working. He did his best not to look sheepish as John looked up at him, instead giving his best deadpan shrug.
"Ya snooze, ya lose, man." Yeah, okay, he kind of felt like a huge asshole, especially considering John was the one who'd bought the weed in the first place. And the bong was his. And this was his car. Not to mention he'd been the one to drive to the dispensary... yeesh. Suddenly Dave was finding the darkened scenery of the empty parking lot they were in a whole lot more interesting than it had been a minute ago.
"In my defense, I'm just excited to finally have weed that isn't cut with coke or somethin'. I've only ever been used to the shitty kind you pay for with back-alley blowies, so pardon me for being excited about the novel concept of walking into a store in broad daylight, leaving with like... an entire ounce of weed, and not having to worry about going to prison forever." Alright, so he was embellishing the prison time a little, but still. He glanced back over at John and the sad, burnt up bud in the bowl of his bong.
He didn't know why 'I'm sorry' was so damn hard for him to say. Whatever. Probably shouldn't dwell on it while high. "I'll... I can pay you back though. Or buy you more. I feel like I did like... smoke most of that." That was as good an apology as any he guessed. John didn't seem to be upset much at least.
—
John fell back pathetically in his seat, playing up like he'd been shot at Dave's cruel jab, clutching his now useless bong tightly with a pained expression/sound combo of defeat and mourning of what could've been. Damnit. He did snooze, and he lost. He hoped Dave was happy knowing he killed him by thieving that last sweet hit from him.
He stayed dead a little longer than necessary, not that he could really tell what qualified as necessary enough for dramatic effect. That was until Dave continued speaking, offering a defense which, to be fair, was hard to argue with. Whether forgetting to stay dead because of his criminally shortened attention span or otherwise, he miraculously revived back to attention- if you could call it that in his current state- as if nothing happened at all.
He hummed pensively at Dave's explanation, trying to hang onto the words fighting to instantly fall out of his head as fast as they came in. Maybe he didn't need that last hit anyway...
"Mm, you make a solid point..." He nodded passively, even the slight physical motion highlighting the waterlogged sensation in his skull that somehow kept intensifying by the minute. "I guess I won't blame you then. But I gotta say dude, that weed was like... 40 bucks. I think that back-alley blowie might be more in your budget if it's gonna go that fast." He teased with a similarly diffusive look and shrug to the one Dave had given him just seconds ago, an amused expression effortlessly taking over at the same time as he looked back at Dave. Even if he wasn't truly upset at him, no way was he just gonna sit there and not give him shit for it when the opportunity clearly presents itself. He would be a terrible friend if he didn’t, duh.
—
Dave's brow wrinkled, face contorting in mock offense. He punctuated his next sentence with a gentle punch to his bro's (pretty fucking solid, whoah, shit) bicep. "Dude. I am not that broke."
He was that broke. And they both knew it. He was just counting on John's innate sense of discretion keeping him from pushing the issue. Guy was ridiculously polite. When he knew to be, at least.
"'Sides, you smoked like... probably a good third of it, and that's being generous. So that takes my total owed down to... what...?" He paused for what was probably an embarrassingly long amount of time to do some simple division in his brain. Whatever. He wasn't a math major. "like... twenty... twenty six, twenty seven bucks? Definitely not enough to cover a blowie, 'specially not from a skilled tradesman like myself. Not gonna lie dude, I know my worth, you'd probably end up owing me." He glanced over, giving John a quick once over as if assessing him. "'Spose I could make an exception though. Friends and family discount." He added, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at the implication, hoping it would gross his tame-ass friend out at least a little.
Jokes aside, he probably wouldn't be opposed to that form of repayment. He was broke as shit, and also... while maybe not in the best state of mind to decide this, that stupid little lingering childhood crush was still egging him on in the back of his brain, unsquashable even after all the years trying to remind himself that his friend was like. Super straight. Whatever. It was just his inebriated, uninhibited intrusive thoughts trying to convince him that there was a nonzero possibility of anything happening.
—
A barely stifled snort of a laugh escaped from John at Dave's blatant lie, his friend's first connecting to his arm, not really jostling him at the halfhearted gesture. He didn't really want to rub salt in the wound more than he already had by making implications about the sad state of Dave's bank account, so he didn't press further. Only because he was just that nice and surely not because the chokehold his current level of inebriation had on him was severely limiting his ability for any worthwhile retorts.
John watched as Dave started attempting mental math, now of all times, with a mixture of concern and amusement at how long it was taking him. The gaps of silence in between guesstimations highlighting how quiet everything else around them was, drawing John's perception even closer to the buzz in his skull and how dry his mouth was by this point. He silently kicked himself for not bringing a drink out here with him, before his attention was pulled back by his friend's even voice breaking the silence again.
John rolled his eyes at Dave's remark with an incredulous scoff. Skilled tradesman his ass. Dave's last generous offer did, however, do something to the effect of conversational whiplash to John, dealing him psychic damage immediately.
"W- Eugh!!" His face scrunched up in half amused disgust as he recoiled in his seat at the thought, ending with a shocked laugh at the horrible combining of that statement with the theoretical offer at hand. "Dave I would hope you don't give that discount to family- I'd be really concerned." He laughed, continuing through the intermittent weed fueled chuckles that really did not want to stop once they started. "I dunno if I really wanna take you up on that discount dude, if your clientele is that... uh.. Varied." He shot back a skeptical look at Dave, saying whatever his mushy brain could conjure at this point to try to regain any sensical footing after he was thoroughly rocked by Dave's supreme ability to get a reaction out of him by any means necessary.
Not that he would take him up on that offer anyway... Even if Dave hadn’t had to go and mention a family discount, it was mostly just something to say that was only slightly permeating his brain with a mental image that he elected to ignore entirely, blaming any weird thoughts on just how fucking high he was and maybe the fact that it had been kind of an ungodly length of time since he'd had anything like that from anyone in general. He wasn't going to lie and say that the thought of a blowjob didn't sound kind of amazing in his current altered state, paying no mind to any potential person on the theoretical other end of that situation at all before his weed brain took him anywhere even weirder.
—
Dave waved him off flippantly. "Nah dude, I'm just joshin' you. Family's gotta pay full price." He was honestly kind of impressing himself with how successful he was at not breaking, what with how damn hard it was not to smile while this high. Usually by this point he was a giggly son of a bitch. Not that John would know. They'd gotten high together on a number of previous occasions, sure, but he didn't think he'd ever been this high in front of him before. Ugh. His dry mouth was awful.
"Suit yourself then man. You're really missing out though, not gonna lie." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could really think better of them. John had just seemed kind of skeptical about his skillset, and Dave wasn't about to let him walk away thinking he didn't know how to suck cock. Not that that was a particularly incredible accomplishment by any means, especially by a dude, but still. Couldn't just let his good name be tarnished.
Dave picked at a piece of fuzz that had embedded itself into his sweater, vision going wonky as his THC-addled brain struggled to make his sense of depth perception work properly. He hadn't sucked dick in, like, forever. At least since he left Houston like. What was it, three years ago now? More? He probably could've hooked up with someone if he'd wanted to, he just... sort of hadn't had the time with school on top of the retail jobs he'd been cycling through to at least be able to pay his half of rent and utilities after he'd gotten too antsy to accept any more of John's dad's support. He hadn't really felt the urge much either, which he guessed was sort of understandable given his past relationship with sex as a whole which... yeah, wasn't really the best. He'd just needed a break.
He'd honestly had so many meaningless sexual encounters that he really just couldn't be bothered to seek out any more for the time being. Plus, any time he'd briefly entertained the idea, he'd been too weirded out by the idea of John knowing what he was up to. Like 'hey dude who I still have a mad crush on and who is clearly weirded out by the idea of gay sex, might want to put on headphones or something because some random guy who probably bears a weird amount of resemblance to you is going to come over and fuck my brains out tonight and you'll hear me making embarrassing sex noises through the wall if you don't otherwise occupy yourself.' Yeah, no, not fucking happening. But he guessed all things considered he was maybe sort of pent up? Like, he kind of missed sucking dick specifically. It had been the one thing he'd actually enjoyed in the past, when the person on the receiving end was someone he'd actually opted into having sex with. He would opt into sucking John off in a heartbeat.
He really shouldn't have gotten this high. The fact that they were still talking about this was dangerous as fuck with how uninhibited he was right now.
—
John couldn't help the snicker/snort/laugh thing that came out of him at Dave's retort, part of him wanting to smack him for how unreasonably gross and witty he could still manage to be while they were both this fucked up. John just didn't have the tools at the moment to be able to handle it in a way that wasn’t physical. He probably would have if his closer hand wasn't still occupied holding his bong, potentially spilling gross old bong water all over his friend if he hadn't stopped himself from doing so. Dave surely had to have been higher than John, and yet somehow maintained his composure that usually beat anything John could throw back at him in a heartbeat. This was usually the point that John had to resort to dumb dismissals or comments on how ridiculous the things Dave says are.
Luckily- or maybe unluckily for John, Dave kept speaking so he didn't have to think too hard about all these Family Price comments. Only for what Dave said next to thoroughly corner John's few working braincells into thinking about the topic of their joking exchange a little harder than he'd really meant to. Especially considering that the conversation seemingly halted at that moment, the quiet secludedness of John's car in this dead little parking lot somehow amplified, if only due to his warped perceptions making it feel like the combined moment dragged on for way longer than it actually was.
He knew what Dave meant, obviously. But that didn't stop his mind from wandering away from this weird theoretical joke to thinking that he kind of was missing out. Not from Dave, duh. Just like… in general, he supposed. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd actually gotten head from anyone it had been so long. Some vague memory of a girl he hung out with for a bit in a biology class he had a while ago tugged fuzzily at his brain. Not enough to remember anything specific about her, but definitely enough to highlight the memory of certain feelings during and the pretty good source of stress relief it was around finals then. Ugh. He could not let himself think about all of his fucking tests coming up while he was this high. And he had not had his ideal solution for not thinking about tests in a long ass time.
He rubbed his free hand on his face in some instinctual move to scrub away any further thoughts about school from his brain, speaking with a raspy groan before he was fully aware of it himself.
"Don't try to tempt me dude, you don't even wanna know how much I'm actively missing out- that could be dangerous." He threatened emptily with a half-assed laugh. His own words weren't quite sinking in with himself as he spoke, both from the effects of the weed on his whole consciousness, carrying his previous recollecting into subtly lowering his own inhibitions entirely unbeknownst to him, and the effect that Dave typically tended to have on him that kind of just made him say any stupid thing that comes out of his brain before he could think better of it. He figured that's just what happens when you're friends with someone for this long, you just get a little too comfortable and say stupid shit that you hope doesn't get dunked on. Comfortable enough to take up on a dubiously joking sexual offer that was starting to toe an increasingly thinner line? He wasn't really sure at this point.
—
It took a moment for John's words to sink in, and when they finally did, Dave felt an uneasy feeling curl around his gut. He was no stranger to anxiety at this point, but this time the familiar emotion was tinged with an entirely unfamiliar sensation of... exhilaration? Excitement? The feeling that either something very good or very bad was about to go down, depending on how he handled this.
The safest option would be to just leave it alone. To nod and hum and maybe clap John on the back in a slightly condescending display of sympathy. No risk. No reward, either, but Dave wasn't about to dangle his longest most cherished friendship off of the most precarious cliff to ever exist just because of some shit that was probably definitely never going to actually happen.
...
But John had kind of sounded half serious, though, hadn't he? Surely he would've just laughed it off and dropped the subject if he wasn't entertaining the thought at least a little bit. Dave was thankful as fuck that he still wore his Stiller shades everywhere, even when it was dark as balls out, because there was no way that John could've caught the way his gaze flickered down to his friend's dick zone for a moment before he yanked it back up to focus on the dusty ass car dashboard. No. Bad idea.
Dave nodded. He hummed, sympathetically. Then,
"Well..."
Oh fuck.
He cleared his throat, dry mouth accentuated by his nerves. He pretended to ignore the way his chest was tightening. "I mean. I wouldn't want a bro to be missing out that bad." He swallowed, the movement laborious due to the lack of saliva in his mouth. He didn't dare say anything more. Up to John to decide how seriously he was or wasn't going to take the statement.
—
When the inevitable dunking on his weird lapse of oversharing that John had expected to come down on him didn't happen, another surge of effects washed over him at what Dave actually said, the feeling amplifying the way the words hung with uncertain meaning. He didn't know his mouth could get drier.
What was he implying? The thought made the dull burn in his jaw sink somewhere lower in his body.
Something about the way the now heavier atmosphere was subtly shifting around them made John feel suddenly compelled to keep his gaze anywhere but Dave. That, combined with their altered states in this very empty and liminal space together had John seriously considering this scenario, and he still wasn't totally sure where the line between joking and serious offers ended more than he ever thought he would’ve. But the thought of looking at said friend still threatened to make the current situation a little more real than John was prepared to deal with. So he didn't.
Eyes unable to focus on much in the dim lighting, he absently traced the worn seams in his side door, putting every half-working braincell he had left to use trying to maintain some sense of composure and to not say anything dumber than he already has. However, any conscious efforts on his end were not immune to his long since deprived needs that were quickly taking over any critical thought, ignoring the fact that this is Dave, his best friend, and this could make for an incredibly weird situation in a very short amount of time.
Funny how things like that stop mattering when you have the perfect combination of young adult hormones combined with severely lowered inhibitions at the thought of having someone's mouth on your dick. Beggars can't be choosers, right?
"Uh. You wouldn't?"
Idiot.
—
Uhhhhhhhh. Well, fuck. Dave really couldn't tell how serious John was. Then again, he wasn't really one to talk since it wasn't like he'd clued his friend in on how serious he was being either. He really wasn't sure how serious he was himself, and honestly he didn't want to think about it too hard. He was already this far. Couldn't get all chickenshit now.
"Dude, you're breakin' my heart. What kind of friend would I be if I just let my best bro suffer when... when I could do somethin' about it?" Fuck, he was already so high but he wished he had more weed to smoke, if only to have something to do with himself besides just fucking sit there and panic.
He regrettably acknowledged that was kind of what he was doing at this point, as much as he was resisting showing it. His fingertips pressed hard into his thigh, which was probably the only thing keeping them from visibly shaking. It was a downright miracle that his voice had only wavered once during that stupid shit that he'd just spewed.
He risked another glance over at John and instantly regretted it, feeling his stomach flip turnways. Ugh, this was so stupid. Sure, this was John "haha gay shit weird" Egbert he was talking to, but it was also... just John. It didn't need to be a whole thing. Even if he was weirded out by the proposition they'd just move past it and pretend it never happened. And if he wasn't weirded out by it then... well. Then...
Dave was really really thankful for the dim lighting, otherwise the burning redness of his face would be so much more obvious. Hopefully it wasn't. Jesus, what the fuck was he doing?
—
If there was any doubt left in John's mind about the seriousness of the direction this sudden offer had taken, it was squashed pretty damn definitively by now. Dave was, absolutely, offering to ‘do something about it,’ the words taking up every square inch of his brain like a neon fucking sign, already taking the thought and running with it against his better judgement.
He pretended not to notice the way his pants had gotten marginally tighter at the statement, hormonal desperation clearly getting the better of him. It'd been a fucking while, okay?
The current process of any functional thoughts leaving John's brain for - other biological priorities - did not help him try to maintain a level of coherence as he tried to muster some semblance of a response, since he supposed Dave did ask him a question. He swallowed thickly, almost choking on the dryness making his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth because he managed to forget to swallow for who knows how long.
"-Uh.." John's voice came out a little raspier than he meant it to. "well- probably a pretty bad one. When you put it like that." He forced a small laugh at the ridiculousness of this whole situation, coming out more like an awkward and sharp breath than a laugh.
Feeling the atmosphere shift past a conceptual point-of-no-return at the insinuation of his answer, all he could really do by now was avoid thinking about the reality of the situation and any weird implications this might cause for him later. Hanging onto the emphasis Dave placed on the word ‘friend’ in his offer, John used that as a figurative set of blinders to anything else that could make this situation very weird. Justifying it like that - just a friend helping another friend out - nothing weird about that, right? Given that Dave was like. A dude, and John was obviously not gay but still somehow finding himself agreeing rather easily at the prospect of having said Best Friend's mouth on his dick. Even still, it's not like Dave was just some guy, so it made it somewhat easier to just… not think about.
He forced his attention away from the hole his eyes were burning into his dashboard over to Dave, trying to see anything decipherable from his friend at all. He wasn't sure what he was expecting though, Dave’s shades still doing a stupidly excellent job at rendering his expression almost entirely unreadable. Not that the current dim lighting leaking in mostly from his side of the car helped the situation either.
He couldn't help the way his eyes trailed down to linger on Dave's mouth, initially in an attempt to decipher any sort of expression or something, only to be unable to stop the intrusion of thoughts that came flooding over him, focusing maybe a lot too hard on the shape of his friend's mouth, dim streetlights highlighting the subtle curves, thinking about the way his lips might feel around his-
Fuck.
His head buzzed as he forced himself to look away after what was probably too long. Definitely long enough for him to feel heat pool lower at the mental images and the growing discomfort at the fabric pressing tighter at his groin causing him to shift slightly in his seat, clearing his throat slightly as a distraction.
—
Dave's head spun at John's reply, the dizzy sensation reminding him that oh, yeah, breathing was sort of a thing he needed to do to live. How long had he been holding his breath for? A queasy feeling rose up in his throat for a moment, in sharp contrast to the way heat pooled in his gut at the raspy tone of his friend's voice. That had sounded like an okay. A green light to go ahead and just...
Oh, what the actual fuck?
Careful to not actually move his head and betray his intentions, Dave glanced over to John's face, feeling his muscles stiffen when he realized he was looking right back at him. John tore his gaze away after another moment, but not before Dave registered the uncertainty in his expression (and refused to register the meaning behind the way his gaze was pulled lower for a few lingering seconds, the way his pupils dilated, the guilty way he held himself as he looked away).
"Yeah." Far fewer words than Dave was used to using, but one got the point across in this instance. He shifted in his seat, pulse pounding in his head, and he would've been worried about actually passing out had he not been trained how to resist the feeling since the age he could hold his own in a fight. Fuck if it wasn't a lot harder when he was high as balls though. He took as steady of a breath as he could manage, and reached over tentatively, slow enough that he could stop if John shifted even slightly. Like a stray cat you're trying to coax over to you without spooking. Only the stray cat was his best bro's penis. Or something.
When he received no slapping of his hand away or exclamation of disgust, Dave just sort of sat there for a second, motionless, leaning slightly over the center console with his hand hovering over the fabric of John's pants. He swallowed, before questioning, barely above a whisper:
"Are... Are you... sure?"
—
That one word was all John needed to feel the complete shift in atmosphere, how high he was only enhancing the hyper awareness of the way Dave's voice caught on it. The sudden shift in fabric in the otherwise silent car seemed impossibly loud, punctuating the reality of the current situation that was currently unfolding in front of him.
Movement catching his attention again, John watched in slow motion as Dave's hand reached closer toward him. Unable to look away, he felt his breath become shallow and his whole body burn as his friend's hand hovered above his hips. John couldn't quite tell in this light whether Dave's hand was slightly shaking or if it was his own buzzed vision messing with him.
Oh fuck, this was really happening.
The sight of how close his hand was already sent a growing ache straight to John's cock. He fought the urge to shift upward into his hand, threatening to give away how much his sense of self control was wavering this early.
He hadn't even realized he had instinctively pulled his arm slightly back and out of the way, subconsciously welcoming the slow and tentative invasion of space. Even at the slight shift in proximity, the way Dave was leaned in toward him had John zeroing in on the heat emanating between them, his high making any current temperature shift feel that much more intense.
If Dave wasn't this close already, John thought he might’ve otherwise missed the barely audible question. The sound of his voice, soft and tentative, only served to add fuel to the fire. John looked at him again before he could think better of it. He was closer than John realized, face cast downward making the warm dim light from outside catch on the edges of his features and reflected off his shades. Despite the dark lenses obscuring his friend's eyes, John could see from this distance the nearly imperceptible nervous way Dave held the rest of his face when he was actively trying not to look nervous, mouth pulled a little tight like he was concentrating on something, along with - something else - he couldn't quite read.
"Uh-" he breathed, averting his gaze again, apparently unable to look anywhere in Dave's general direction while speaking. His eyes settled on the only other place of interest again. The loose fabric of his sweats didn't do much in the way of obscuring the way his cock was now somewhat visibly tenting against the fabric.
"I. I think so," Was all he could manage at the question he barely hung onto. Was he sure? He didn't actually know, considering everything he actively wasn't considering at the moment, clouded entirely by temptation that threw better judgement to the wind. He was far past that by now. He didn't need to be sure, but he did need this.
He swallowed dryly, voice coming out more to himself than anything.
"Yeah."
—
Dave's gaze naturally followed John's, coming to rest on the crotch of his sweatpants, and the bulge forming within them. It was dark as fuck in here, and still he could almost make out the shape of John's dick against the thin fabric. These goddamn things did not leave much to the imagination. His hand wavered for a moment at John's reply, not certain if he should wait for a more definitive response, eyes locked onto his proverbial target. Fuck, he wanted to touch him already.
As soon as that 'yeah' left his bro's lips, he willed himself into action, not wanting to wait another second in case John's certainty wavered again. Like ripping off a bandaid, he thought, except like... a pleasant bandaid? Hopefully? That wasn't really an excellent metaphor for what he was currently doing. Which was, in fact, settling his hand into John's lap, tentatively cupping it against his growing erection, and squeezing ever so slightly.
His vision swam again and he took another breath, again having underestimated how hard it was to remember to perform basic bodily functions when his attention was entirely glued to the task at hand. Speaking of hands, John's dick throbbed in his, and he shakily ran the pad of his thumb up the length, watching with rapt intensity as the tent he was pitching filled out more, the loose fabric of his sweats stretching outwards and upwards. Whoah.
Dave found his hand already tugging at the waistband of John's pants (and thank fuck he didn't tie the drawstrings on these things because he would not have been able to suavely untie them in his current state), and he worried his lip between his teeth as his friend's dick came into partial view, springing upwards now that the restraining fabric had shifted in that slightly awkward way penises move when they're hard. Then, he stilled for a moment, brain short circuiting.
...
Oh fuck, his cock was nice. Like, really nice. Dave wasn't sure what he'd really expected, but it just wasn't fucking fair that this dorky asshole just happened to be gifted with one of the most objectively pretty dicks he'd ever seen. And he'd seen a lot of dicks. Granted, a lot of them had belonged to skeevy, germy perverts, but even the nicer ones he'd come into contact with weren't this... nice looking.
He'd probably been staring for too long. Hand shaking, he shifted the waistband of John's sweatpants down, shifting closer so he could hold the fabric in place with his off hand as he moved to... to...
His fingers, slightly cool due to the unheated air around them, brushed lightly against the soft skin of John's shaft, lava hot in contrast. He curled his fingers loosely around it, chest tightening as it throbbed again. He squeezed, not tightly, but enough to feel the organ stiffen more in response. A small bead of precum had formed at the tip of his cock, and Dave instinctively moved his thumb to swipe it up, pressing slickly against the underside of his glans on the way back down. He glanced tentatively up at John's face, aware that he was moments away from doing something which could arguably be considered Fucking Up Big Time.
Oh fuck. Who gave him the right to look like that. Holy shit. Dave was fucked.
—
John froze as Dave moved, closing the distance between the two of them. Feeling the contact of Dave's hand against his cock through his pants finally giving some sense of relief and gratification at finally feeling something, but the light touch only served to make his cock throb harder into it. His whole brain turned to static as he felt Dave ever so gently drag his thumb at the underside of his dick. He couldn't help the small shudder and shaky breath that small gesture pulled from him, growing desperate for more as soon as humanly possible.
He wasn't sure if his lightheadedness was due to how shallow his breathing had become, or the fact that there was likely more THC filled smoke than clean oxygen in his car.
The weed stink was never going to come out of this thing...
It was as if John's entire brain functioning had turned off at this point. Leaving him useless for anything beside sitting witness to the sight in front of him, watching Dave's hands, surprisingly delicate in the darkness already work their way under his waistband, feeling just the tips of his fingers graze his hips as they freed his dick from its fabric confines. The sudden rush of cool air hitting his skin forced a quiet hiss through his teeth at the change in temperature.
Everything seemed to still in that moment, watching Dave's hand falter just inches away from his now exposed dick, clearly anticipating the contact as much as John was internally. His pulse pounded against his chest in the silence until- Oh, shit.
The feeling of Dave's fingers gently curling around his erection was enough to send another shiver across John's body at the surprisingly cool, but not unpleasant temperature of his hand. His cock throbbed in response as John couldn't help the shaky exhalation that was forced out of him.
He fought against the urge to shift upward into Dave's hand as he felt the gentle squeeze of his fingers around him, desperation for more giving itself away by the precum already leaking out of the tip, eyebrows furrowing and feeling himself flush intensely as he watched Dave smear a fingertip at the liquid.
He stifled a quiet noise that fought against the back of his throat. Christ... this was bad.
He tried his best to justify to himself that it was just the weed making him this eager for the simplest touch, anything to save face for how embarrassingly responsive he was to all this when nothing had even really happened so far.
He couldn't quite tell in the light, but the way it looked like he caught Dave glancing back up at him through the angle of his glasses sent a surge of warmth pooling at his groin and did something intoxicating to his brain just at the implication alone. The way he looked in this light was almost-
Fuck. He had, quite honestly, never needed his dick sucked so bad in his entire life up until now.
—
Dave couldn't help the way his grip tightened around John's hardon, eyes tracing the furrow of his brow, the way his lips were parted slightly, his downcast gaze, eyelids hooded slightly due to the weed. Or maybe due to the fact that his cock was being fondled, duh. Dave shifted closer yet, angling his head until he was certain that John couldn't see his eyes with the way his hair was falling around his face. Right now, he just could not cope with the idea of making even accidental eye contact while this was happening. He needed to forcibly ignore anything about this situation that could make him freak out any more than he already was.
He tugged downwards gently, pulling the skin of John's cock taut with his hand, breath ghosting shakily over soft skin for a few tentative moments before his lips finally made contact. He took just the tip into his mouth for a moment, blood rushing to his face with a renewed vigor at the way his salivary glands suddenly started into overdrive, prompted by the slightly sweet taste of precum on his tongue. He swallowed slightly around it, before pulling away with a gentle popping sound. He let out another shaky breath. Okay. He could do this. Dave Strider, Dick Sucker Extraordinaire, at your motherfucking service.
Invigorated with an odd sense of confidence now that the final hurdle had been leapt over, Dave leaned down slightly to tongue at the underside of John's cock. The angle was kind of awkward so he had to sort of wrap his tongue around the side of the shaft to do so, but it wasn't wholly uncomfortable. He breathed in through his nose, taking in the slightly musky smell of sweat mixed with the scent of whatever laundry detergent John used, though the combination wasn't super noticeable over the absolute reek of weed in the air. Bummer.
—
The close heat of Dave's breath ghosting over the tip of John's cock was electrifying, tumbling over himself in savoring the couple of gentle and hot little exhales over the sensitive skin there. Something about the way Dave had John at his mercy made the progression of time feel… incredibly wonky to say the least, everything moving so slow and faster than he could keep up with at the same time.
The sudden feeling of Dave’s lips (that were so much softer than John ever could've expected, holy shit) had John releasing a full body sigh, wavering a little at the end as he practically melted into the soft, wet and so fucking hot sensation of Dave's lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, and the way he spread the slick precum he had built up over the head before lifting himself away just as fast as he took him into his mouth.
There wasn't even enough time to react to the sudden rush of cold air accosting the flesh where Dave's lips just were, before he was back on him, the wet heat of his tongue gliding at the underside of John's cock. He couldn't have possibly helped the low breathy moan that emanated from him as Dave's tongue ran over a particularly sensitive spot where the head of his dick met the shaft. The feeling forced his eyes shut at the intensity of it, head falling back against the headrest. He chased the feeling as his best friend continued to work his tongue and mouth over his erection, everything feeling so incredibly hot and wet and so much all at once, and not nearly enough at the same time.
Eyes closed, his head felt like it was swimming with the combination of pleasure mixed with how fucking high he was, intensifying every little thing he felt and heard coming from Dave's mouth. He shuddered again into the heat.
—
Dave's tongue drew a final line across John's dick from base to tip, running gently under the ridge of his head as his mouth closed around it again, taking the entirety of the glans this time. Careful to keep his teeth out of the way, he swirled his tongue around, sucking gently whenever it completed a full circle.
Once enough saliva had collected in his mouth, he opened it slightly, allowing some to drip downwards as his hand moved up to catch it, smearing it over his digits and stroking lightly to lubricate the length of John's shaft. Shit, it was thick. His fingers couldn't even close around it entirely. He sank lower onto it, alternating between sucking and simply running his tongue along it, working his hand on the bottom half while he adjusted to the size of the member in his mouth. Fucking hell, he'd missed sucking dick.
He pulled upwards for a minute, sighing softly as John's cock throbbed again, precum slick on his tongue. His hand moved from John's cock down lower, brushing against his balls and cupping them gently. At this point he felt the need to actually look up, double checking that nothing he was doing was weird. Some dudes hated their nuts messed with, and Dave wasn't about to ruin this for himself by doing anything even slightly out of line. He needed this to be an awesome blowie, both for the sake of his pride, and because this was probably the only time anything like this was ever going to happen. Shit needed to be life changing. His tongue worked against the underside of John's glans, dipping slightly into the slit at the top as he tried to burn as much of this moment into his memory as he could. Which probably wasn't going to be much considering how absolutely zooted out of his mind he still was.
—
In the terms of an opportunistic blowie mid-hotboxing session, a significant part of this equation was something that John hadn't really considered to be relevant up until now. He kind of just conceded to ignoring the glaring fact that said blowjob was coming from a guy, thinking that if he closed his eyes it's not like he'd know the difference anyway. At the end of the day, a mouth is a mouth, right?
This, though, this was- fuck.
This was nothing like he could've expected. Slack jawed and head swimming at the pleasure, John opened his eyes again, vision slightly hazy as he struggled to refocus his eyes in the dark, smoky car interior. His heavily lidded eyes grazed over Dave's figure, highlighted only by the dim streetlights peeking in through the fogged up windows. The presence of any prominently masculine features that John would’ve expected to ick him out once he opened his eyes again just. Weren't... there. Instead, he couldn't help the way his eyes followed the silhouette of Dave's body curled around the center console. Grazing past the soft dip of his waist and settling on the curve of his ass, noting how... how fucking hot he looked like this, the visual only aiding the pleasure as he felt his cock throb against Dave's tongue.
He'd never in his life could've anticipated seeing Dave - his best friend for the good majority of his life now - in a position like this, accentuating certain angles that made him look... look like...
Uh.
Something weird twinged in his gut before he could think any more of that thought, before he was pulled away from any sense of coherency entirely by a hand gently cupping lower at his balls, breath catching in his chest at the suddenly intense vulnerability of the feeling. The way Dave raised his face back toward him just briefly enough, silently checking, let John release that shaky breath he was holding, sinking into the now holy shit intensified pleasure of Dave's tongue working against him combined with the warm touch even lower on his groin. The intensity of everything had him groaning as Dave took him deeper into his mouth, enveloping him with burning heat and pleasure.
Fuck, this was going to be over way sooner than he wanted it to be at this rate. This was dangerous.
—
Dave's head spun as he fought to hold back a noise of his own at the sound John had just made. As ashamed as he was to admit it, he'd had brief intrusive thoughts about what the guy sounded like in bed before (he was literally injecting testosterone into himself weekly, okay, fuck off, being hypersexual as a result was absolutely normal and nothing to judge his self worth or integrity by) but actually hearing the groan that escaped him, low as its volume had been, had Dave feeling almost lightheaded. Holy shit.
The simple fact of knowing that John Egbert liked his balls touched, that his voice got all raspy when he groaned, that he got this slightly strained expression on his face when his cock was being sucked that was fucking really hot threatened to overwhelm him. This was just... happening. He felt like he was experiencing emotional whiplash with how quickly he'd gone from anxiety to confidence right back to anxiety again, this time heaped together with a metric ton of faggot ass shit he'd refused to think about for years because nothing could ever happen. Well. Now something was fucking happening. And now here he was, growing increasingly worried about whether the fact that he was probably too invested in this supposed favor between bros was obvious or not. John had an excuse. He had his dick in someone's mouth, kind of hard not to be pretty jazzed about that kind of thing. And Dave was coming up empty trying to find any reason why he should be visibly enjoying it to the extent that he actually was inside. But his high was making it ridiculously hard to concentrate on keeping his cool and giving good head at the same time. He was going to have to be a lot more careful about this than he'd initially thought.
His touch became bolder, still careful to remain consciously gentle as his thumb caressed the soft skin of John's scrotum, kneading his balls ever so gingerly as his mouth bobbed slowly on his dick.
Shame he wasn't nearly at the right angle to take his cock any deeper. But it was probably a good thing he had an actual physical barrier holding him back from trying because he was absolutely certain he would not be able to focus on not making any noise while having to devote all of his inhibited attention to trying to deepthroat without dying or barfing. But it would've been impressive though.
Dave's fingers traced lightly over John's skin as his hand moved to wrap around the base of his cock again, giving it a firm squeeze. He pulled off for a breath, the inhale too audible in the near perfect silence, along with the wet noise of his lips leaving spit slick skin. Fuck. He felt his thighs squeeze together slightly, breath hitching as he resumed sucking off his best bro, twisting his head ever so slightly in tandem with his hand as he moved up and down in a steady rhythm. Fucking shit, he was so going to guiltily spank it to the memory of this later.
—
If John wasn't as high as he was, he'd probably have been a little more apprehensive about his balls being fondled like this. He'd really only been with girls who didn't have much experience of their own either. Not like he could blame a girl for not knowing what to do with something she doesn't have, but still. It takes some trust okay? This was Dave though. And fuck, did this feel really fucking intense in somehow the gentlest manner possible. Evidently trustworthy with how easily he just let himself be handled like that. And probably the weed.
So maybe that was one plus to this whole thing, at least a guy would know how to handle... well. Fuck- no, yeah. Nevermind.
He was way too stoned out of his mind and frankly preoccupied with having his entire life essence sucked out of his dick to try thinking anymore about anything complicated having to do with the ways in which his best friend was a guy but also actively making him feel a little wrong but incredibly turned on for the way he was.
John fought the instinctual desire to let his eyes fall closed again. As much as he could so easily sink back into his seat and focus solely on the feeling and letting go entirely, a much more significant part of him couldn't help but watch, drinking in everything Dave was doing so unabashedly and uninhibited. So... like nothing he'd ever imagined given his bro’s penchant for playing everything so icily cool all the time. The stark contrast in reality made John's vision struggle to focus at the sight, blurring around the edges and threatening to send him into a blowjob induced sort of tunnel vision. He still struggled with the fact that this was even happening at all. Here. With Dave. Looking... and sounding like this. Which would probably definitely give John some Very weird and Very conflicting thoughts later.
Fucking hell. Dave's enthusiasm combined with his sheer amount of skill that John had severely underestimated was threatening every sense of his composure he had left right now. The way he clearly knew what he was doing and doing it well was going to have John falling apart for him dangerously fast. He knew he wouldn't be able to last much longer and there was simply nothing to be done about that.
The wet warmth of Dave’s mouth combined with the breathy sound of him coming up for air, spit string and everything between his mouth and the tip of John's cock catching the light made his head spin, and the way Dave looked, part of him wishing the angle was better just to see more.
Fuck.
With sharper and shallower breaths, John's face scrunched more at the new rhythm Dave set as he returned. Before he could think better of it to stop himself, John's free hand found itself moving away from the side of his seat it had been gripping, right toward Dave's head. The feeling of his hair brushing at his fingertips suddenly made him freeze with apprehension. Was that okay?
Oh crap.
—
Dave tried not to think about the clenching sensation in his groin as he listened to the tempo of John's breathing increase. He was concentrating so hard on ignoring any of the arousal in his own body, in fact, that the feeling of John's fingers ghosting against the loose strands of his hair caught him off guard. He shuddered involuntarily, tingles creeping down his spine.
Fuck, yes please. He shifted his head upwards, leaning into John's touch before he could think better of it. His breath came out in a rush, nostrils flaring. His ribs pressed uncomfortably against the center console. Ugh. This was not working.
Dave shifted until he was in a slightly better position, kneeling on the seat underneath him so his ribcage was clearing the uncomfortable obstacle course between himself and John. This also gave his mouth a better angle, coincidentally. Bonus. He took a moment to take as much of his dick as possible into his mouth, being careful not to trip his gag reflex. It had been a few years since he'd done this and he didn't want to get too overconfident. He couldn't help the soft hum that escaped him as he held the position for a moment, about a half octave higher than his normal register. God his cock was big. Shit was not making it easy. He hollowed his cheeks as he came back up, speeding up the tempo of his strokes and squeezing his hand tighter as he worked his tongue against John's frenulum. He looked over and up again, taking in the way John looked. Fuck. He wanted, needed to watch him come.
—
The immediate reciprocation of Dave leaning into the unsure touch had John sighing that breath he held with another sound he didn't mean to make, initially unsure whether he'd messed up big time or not. Given the unspoken go-ahead at the way Dave fucking shuddered into it, he didn't hesitate to sink his hand the rest of the way into his hair, fluffy and soft, wavy bits catching just slightly against his fingers as they ventured further, letting the whole weight of his palm rest against Dave's head.
The feeling of Dave pressing himself into his hand along with the sound of his breathing change made something turn in John's stomach. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had just taken this event somewhere further than he meant it to but couldn't for the life of him even think to backtrack. Not after seeing how positively Dave was reacting to the touch.
It took John an awfully long moment to catch up to what was going on, when Dave was suddenly shifting in his seat. He almost thought for a second to pull his hand back, if maybe it was getting a little too weird for their current situation. As if it could get any weirder. Any thoughts about retreating his hand were instantly buried when he felt Dave suddenly take his cock so much deeper into his mouth than he had before.
John choked out a rough moan as he reflexively tensed his fist in Dave's hair, unable to keep himself from grasping tightly at his waves, practically holding on for dear life as he heard and felt Dave hum around his cock, intensifying every sensation as he was trying and failing to keep himself together. Fuck if that sound wasn't going to be burned into his brain after this.
This time John really couldn't help the way his eyes screwed shut as Dave changed rhythm again.
"H- oh shit" he gasped, sinking into his seat just riding out every movement, hand still firmly nestled in Dave's hair, unable to help the way his gasp tightened with every pull of his mouth or drag of his tongue across his cock. He was doing everything in his power to minimize the way his body fought to thrust into Dave's mouth, losing himself and coming undone so fucking fast.
The way Dave's hand tightened around the base of his cock as he focused on the underside of the head was going to be the end of him, heat building in his groin as he bit at his lower lip through another groan.
Dangerously close to the peak, John suddenly realized through his fucked out weed affected haze of stupidity that he should maybe give Dave a little warning so he didn't get a mouthful of his jizz, the thought making him falter, breathing shallow through the conflicting desire to keep going and the thought to have some kind of decency for his friend.
"Ah- shit wait, D-" he gasped, Dave's name nearly spilling out in his scrambling before he managed to stop himself from making that mistake, "I'm-"
He tightened his fist in Dave's hair, trying to get across the end of that sentence as he tugged upward - a little fruitlessly in his current condition - before it was too late.
—
Dave's brain all but shut off at the way John's hand fisted into his hair, stinging pain needling over his scalp. It was a rougher touch than he'd imagined, one that would probably be unwelcome if it was anyone else but instead caused a pleasant warm fuzziness to settle in his brain. Ugh, fuck. This was so unfair and he wouldn't have done this shit at all if he'd known it was going to be this difficult to hold it together. He was just used to casual sex with dudes he either didn't give a fuck about or was actively grossed out by. Not that this wasn't casual sex. Because it certainly was. Just that... John was really hot. And not in an eye candy way, though that was also a factor. More in a stomach-doing-backflips-holy-shit-i-want-to-give-you-everything kind of way. Which was definitely a first for Dave and was kind of overwhelming as fuck so he really didn't want to think about it right now.
John was surprisingly vocal for a dude. Or maybe it was the weed? He guessed he didn't have a point of reference for that. But Dave for sure didn't mind. His breathing sounded so shallow at this point it was unmistakable how close he was. Dave shifted, feeling the surprisingly slick skin of his crotch slide together. Fuck. For the first time in his life he thanked god he wasn't cis. It made it a lot easier to hide the boner he definitely wasn't supposed to be popping right now.
He gasped, stilling for a moment on instinct as John's grip tightened, head following the tug to lessen the intensity of the feeling. Had he been about to say...
Jesus fuck.
If Dave had had any previous doubts about whether to pull off John's cock as he finished, they dissipated in an instant. This was probably a really bad idea. But it was also a really hot idea, and right now that part of his brain was kind of on autopilot. He opened his mouth, drool dripping downwards and relubricating his hand, which increased its speed yet again. His tongue flattened against the head of John's dick, breath hot against it as he panted, exhales coming out with just the barest hint of vocalization. Fuck yes.
—
John's shallow and labored breaths stuttered even more at the soft sound Dave made around his cock in response to the grasp he had in his hair. A part of him felt a pang of guilt at pulling so hard, but not enough for the breathy sound he'd never heard come from his friend to not go straight toward his groin, pushing him that much closer to the edge.
He felt his whole body tensing on its own accord, breath catching rougher as a feeling of almost panic set in at the same time because he was so fucking close and why wasn't Dave moving away?
"Wh, ah-" His eyes just managed to flutter open in time to catch the blurred image of Dave, open mouth fucking drooling and panting with his tongue just waiting on his cock as he started stroking him faster and jesus christ the sounds coming from him were all too much for John to handle.
The sight in front of him was the final nail in John's proverbial coffin, the way Dave's hair was a mess because of John's grasp, the flushing of his skin he could just make out in the light, the puffy wet mess of his mouth at his cock, saliva mixed with precum stringing between them had John choking out a moan that he was really trying to contain because holy fucking shit was this unreal levels of insane. Dave looking like this in front of him was going to be seared into his memory forever, weed be damned.
His head fell back into his seat as his cock throbbed almost painfully past the brink at the intensity, orgasm forcing it way through him as he rode into Dave's hand stroking him just exactly how he wanted, needed it, feeling himself tighten and release right into the heat of Dave's mouth where his tongue pressed against him. Completely overwhelmed by sensations that being this high only magnified, he couldn't care anymore about any horrible repercussions that might result from cumming in his best friend's mouth, when he could only sit back, helpless and pliable under Dave's grasp, cock pulsing against his tongue as his head buzzed and everything turned so blindingly hot, body shuddering involuntarily. The originally panic-inducing thought quickly warping and intensifying just how fucking hot this was made his breaths come out that much harsher, unable to help any sounds that happened to accompany as he let go, letting himself be overwhelmed by every little sensation. His tightly fisted hand in Dave's hair weakened, grip going slightly numb from the way his high made it that much harder to not lose himself to this entirely.
—
As soon as Dave felt the first spurt of cum hit his tongue, he slowed the movement of his hand, working John's cock slowly through his orgasm. A soft, pleasantly surprised noise sounded in the back of his throat (one that he certainly hoped John didn't hear because it was accidentally kind of higher pitched, ew), and he was pretty sure he looked like a fucking mess right now. Thank fuck for his shades obscuring at least part of the desire that was probably written all over his face. John was definitely too preoccupied at the moment to notice at least. Fuck he was so hot like this. God damn it, how was Dave supposed to cope with knowing what this was like yet never having it again? Better to have blown and lost than never to have blown at all maybe? He didn't know, this would probably fuck him up really bad later down the line. So much for stomping down his bro crush.
But right now, in this moment, John's hand was fisted tightly in his hair, his cum hot and salty and surprisingly okay tasting on his tongue for how bad he knew this guy's dietary choices were on the daily. He was flushed in the face, cock sliding against Dave's tongue as his hips bucked up into his mouth, barely controlled with how overwhelmed he clearly was. He made a pretty goddamn obscene noise when Dave closed his mouth around him again, allowing some of his cum to pool downwards for just a moment before he collected it again and swallowed thickly, feeling the viscous liquid slide down his throat.
When he was sure John was finished, he pulled away, swallowing again and licking his lips lightly. He worked to catch his breath for a moment, steadily regaining his composure while he listened to the sound of John's voice slowly quiet, watched him practically melt into the car seat. Dave wished he had one of his cameras on him.
Holy shit? Where had that thought come from. Anyways. Dave cleared his throat gently, hand retracting from John's softening dick to wipe at his mouth as he pulled back into a sitting position, clearing his face of the mixture of drool and cum that was probably going to ruin the sleeve of his sweater now that he thought about it. Fucking damn it. He waited a moment until the silence started to get unbearable. He had to say something now or he knew the next several minutes were going to be filled with awkward throat clearing and tense quiet. He looked over to where John was still recovering, brain clearly still foggy with post-orgasm hormones.
"Damn. That good, huh?"
—
As if the feeling of jizzing into Dave's mouth wasn't enough to send John to an early grave, the second dose of overstimulating pleasure was going to pulverize him where he sat as Dave closed his mouth around him again and-
And fucking swallowed, making him practically see stars with a choked sound that was way more than a little embarrassing. His face flushed immediately as he shuddered with the knowledge of what Dave had done, still hardly recovering from his release while trying to process that.
Once the aftershocks and remaining sensitive pulses of John's cock settled, he was able to take a minute to catch his breath when Dave finally pulled away, suddenly reminding John that he was still somehow tightly holding onto the bong in his other hand, numb from its awkward position. He moved it closer to set it down in the console before nearly missing Dave's head with it as he sat up. About as soon as he did though that only made space for. Well. Everything that just happened to come seeping into John's still hazy brain as it slowly started to come back online.
Oh man.
Dave's awkward silence breaking jab had a scrunched up expression come over John in response, immediately flustering him with something of a sinking feeling joining the mix because- yeah. It was that fucking good. He didn't even know how long that was with the way weed makes time feel messed up but it was probably embarrassingly fast and he really didn't want to think about the way Dave had him like that now that it was over.
His free hand moving to scrub at his face under his glasses and to conveniently hide under his palm with a groan.
"Auuuughh... don't even-" He was about to reply with some kind of defensive remark, pausing before coming up entirely empty. The unmistakable feeling of guilt became added to the mix of post-nut clarity he was brewing because he couldn't stop himself from thinking about the fact that Dave fucking swallowed, when he REALLY didn't need to do that. He suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to apologize instead, for some reason.
"Fuck- uh. Sorry for- um. You. You didn't have to- I could've grabbed like. Napkins or something." He scrambled lamely, avoiding Dave's question entirely and skirting around saying anything direct about what just happened. He avoided looking directly at Dave still, not prepared for what anything at the current moment might do to him.
—
Dave's eyebrows lifted in surprise, cresting the top of his shades. No fucking way was this dickhead apologizing right now. And no way was he letting himself be albeit unintentionally trapped into talking about this in any sort of serious way. He shrugged.
"Nah, 's cool." His voice came out with a weird quality that he would've almost described as husky if he'd wanted to sound like a sexually repressed middle aged romance novelist. Man, he really had to get a grip. "Less messy." He explained simply, refusing to outwardly acknowledge any other reason he could have had for pulling that move. What was he supposed to say, 'I wanted to'? Yeah fucking right.
"Don't say I never did anything for you though." He added for good measure, hoping the second offhanded jab would stick and actually do its job of diffusing some of the tension in here, which hung thick like the haze of smoke that still clung to the air around them. He was acutely aware of the swampy wetness going on in his crotchal region that was making the cotton of his underwear stick to his skin in the grossest fucking way, and he really hoped the redness of his face and the mussed state of his hair weren't detracting from the inscrutable expression he was consciously maintaining.
—
The looming sense of guilt John was beginning to harbor was somewhat placated at the very nonchalant and very Dave-like response, somehow managing to be stupidly casual about having not spit out his bro's jizz like a normal person. He deflated a little at the reassurance, still pretty darn high but at least coming back from the hormonally afflicted brain-deadness he had on top of it. He opened his eyes finally, blinking as his fuzzy vision struggled to adjust to the dark and hazy car interior again. John tried to ignore the way Dave's voice sounded, slightly rougher than usual in a way that clung to John's brain.
Realizing about halfway through Dave speaking that his dick was still exposed when it certainly didn't need to be anymore, he tucked himself away, body still somewhat shaky in motion from how spent he was, right arm slowly spreading with pins and needles from the way he had been holding it for so long, completely forgotten about in the moment. He did feel remarkably relaxed though, which was pretty fucking nice, not feeling the heavy weight of consistent shitty schoolwork on top of him for the first time in a while. John almost would've thought to thank him if that wasn’t probably the weirdest thing to do in this situation, and if he hadn’t immediately started ragging on him like some kind of big asshole.
He shot Dave a squinty glare at his douchebaggery, finally catching the sight of the other side to this whole... aftermath. Dave, sitting further on the other side now, looked so unreadably like himself again you wouldn't have been able to guess that he just gave John the best blowjob of his fucking life, if it werent for the way pieces of his hair were sticking up messily, or the slight puffy flush to his mouth and face that was hardly visible. But the contrast was unmistakable to John, only reminding him of the visual of him stuffing his cock into his mouth which was going to plague him for probably forever now.
"You make me want to punch you in the head is what you do for me." He shot back with hardly any bite due to the current state of forced relaxation his body was trapped in. The tired rasp settling into his voice did not help his case in the slightest.
—
Dave's face wrinkled in genuine disgust at the actual atrocity that was John's attempt at a clever comeback. "John, shut the fuck up." He responded, more judgement in his voice than his friend had bothered to put into his words. He swore, this chucklefuck couldn't manage a single sentence that wasn't unendurably retarded.
It was kind of crazy how easy it was to slide back into normalcy after the shit that had just happened. Almost made Dave forget how easy it had also been to lose himself in the moment earlier, working towards the singular goal of getting John to nut. He was like Jekyll and Hyde with this shit. Rose would probably soil herself in glee and pop one of her weird psychological ladyboners if she had the opportunity to dissect this particular facet of his personality. Eurgh, christ, he could practically hear her now trying to weasel her way under his skin, asking the most unreasonably intrusive series of questions known to mankind, clipboard and pencil at the ready so she could file away more seriously embarrassing garbage about him in her Sherlock Holmes ass mind palace, only to dig it out later just to haunt him with it and have an incestuous powerplay bean flicking sesh or whatever the hell sick sense of pleasure she derived from mentally tormenting him on the reg. His skin physically crawled at the thought, and he resolved never to fucking mention any of this shit to his dear sweet insidious sister.
God, his legs hurt from fucking sitting here for so long.
He sighed loudly, a clear announcement of his desire to gtfo the car. Not that dragging his hella reefed ass home sounded all that great either, but whatever. Dude, he was mad hungry all of a sudden.
"Dude, I'm mad hungry all of a sudden." He drawled out. "And it's cold as balls out here. We should like. Ugh. We should walk back."
—
John laughed at Dave's verbal abuse, voice lazy and a little gravely as any previous tension dissipated. Eyelids falling shut of their own accord again as he did so, too heavy against the effort it was taking to keep them open and focused. He relaxed into the feeling of returning to their comfortable insult-laden dynamic again, wherein John never ceases to get his kicks out of pissing Dave off with his increasingly unsatisfying comebacks. The ease of transition almost made it feel as if they hadn't just crossed a kind of really huge line in their friendship.
Luckily he was too much of just the right amount of stoned to dwell on it, practically about to sink right into his seat and go into some kind of post-nut weed coma. That sounded pretty sweet right now if he wasn't lying.
His impending coma was interrupted by a very pointed sigh coming from Dave, who sounded weirdly far away before he was brought back into focus, cracking an eye to look at Dave as he raised an eyebrow in question.
He hummed pensively at Dave's rather genius idea of food. Now that he thought about it, John could totally fuck up a late night quesadilla right now. But the thought of having to move from where he was perfectly comfortable sounded like the worst form of torture he could think of. It wasn't even that cold. It was kind of nice, actually, after how warm he had gotten just a minute ago. It wasn't his fault Dave didn't have any insulation to protect his ass from the elements.
"Uuuuuugggghh..." he groaned in protest. "It's so far though..." he dreaded the full block away of distance he was fated with parking away from their place. But if he didn't start moving now he risked the very real probability of him just melting back into his seat for the night and freezing over by morning.
He forced himself to sit up, every greened-out fiber of his being putting up a fight as the change in position made his equilibrium topple a bit as he took a minute to adjust to the fact that he was going to have be being up and moving for real in a minute while savoring the sweet sanctity of his car before venturing out into the dark unknown (the street he walked down every day since he'd started school).
—
"Dude you walk like... ten times that distance or some shit over campus on the daily." Dave pointed out, pulling the door handle and swinging the door out slightly, only to pull it back in and peer out the window, double checking there wasn't a car coming or anything. Which was probably a dumbass thing to do right now considering not one person had driven through the lot since they'd gotten out here, but made sense to his easily paranoid weed brain. Once he'd confirmed he wasn't going to be instantaneously flattened upon leaving the safety of John's car, he swung his legs out, heaving himself to his feet. Holy shit, he hadn't realized how dense the smoke had been in there until the crisp outside air filled his lungs.
He turned and planted both hands on top of the frigid car to steady himself, leaning down to poke his head back in so he could look at John. Dude looked beat. He guessed he couldn't blame him, he was high and just got his shit rocked with a frankly stellar blowie.
"Come on bro. You can hold my hand if you get scared." He offered, the milder Strider equivalent of a shit eating grin cracking across his face. "Long as I don't get frostbite that is. Don't want my fingers breaking off and like... powderizing in your hand or whatever. Kind of need those. So better get your ass into gear before I start losing digits and need you to spoon feed me and wipe my asshole for the rest of my sorry, disfigured life."
He stepped backwards, swinging the door shut with a satisfying clunk, and walked around the back of the car. He forgot that the curb was totally a thing that existed until the toe of his sneaker caught it and he had to take a couple of awkward overcompensating steps to catch himself before coming to a standstill, waiting for John to drag himself out of the car so they could make the unfairly long trek back to the apartment.
—
John had almost argued back at Dave's point, hardly getting the chance to as he watched him start to crawl out of the vehicle, a rush of cool air hitting John from the opened door as the exchange pushed some of the smoke out of the opening. Sure, he did technically walk a lot more than just the few minutes between his car and home constantly at school. But not while this high out of his fucking mind. Just the thought of willing his legs to work felt impossible. He was half sure he was going to collapse or something on the way back. Ugh. He really did not want to move.
He propelled his body forward in his seat, slightly more upright as the gravity pulling him weighed heavier against his head in the multiple step process of catching up to Dave, who was now already out of the car, leaning forward and somehow continuing to taunt him. Bastard had no clue how difficult this whole ordeal was for John, who squinted at him with unfocused vision from his hunched position. The way his lankier form eclipsed the old yellow streetlights behind him cast kind of a pretty glow around him in the otherwise darkened street, he thought, light catching on the remaining trails of smoke floating around. Not that he thought Dave was pretty. The picture would just kind of be mesmerizing for any high person, really.
The punctuation of the car door shutting after Dave's insistence did in fact prompt John to 'get his ass into gear,' but not without groaning yet again in protest to no one in particular. He pulled his body more upright in an attempt to gain some forward momentum, opening the car door. John put practically his entire body weight dangerously on the handle as he used it to propel himself unsteadily upward, the old plastic framing creaking under the pressure.
Only once he was fully out and standing did the crisp nighttime air finally hit him, shocking him like jumping into a cold shower. He blinked widely a couple times as his head adjusted, his high state warping rapidly due to the shift in environment, effectively taking him out of the sleepier daze he was just in.
"I think I would sooner put you in a home. For like. Wherever people put disfigured people they don't want before I have to go anywhere near your asshole." he shot back as he started toward Dave, not before giving the hood of his car a couple pats in a sweet parting farewell. He tried very hard to remember what it was like to have functioning legs that knew how to walk properly.
—
"Dude, after all I've done for you?" Dave questioned incredulously, starting to traipse down the sidewalk. "You're seriously just gonna dump my ass like a shitty dog you abandon on the side of the road? I know I piss in your laundry and eat your underwear sometimes dude but come on, I don't deserve that shit. I'll be all whimpering and sniveling and piteous in the cold, forbidding emptiness of a concrete cell in the pound, looking up hopefully all wagging my tail and shit when someone walks by. But that shit'll be in vain man, ain't nobody gonna want me with how forlorn and pining I'll be looking all the damn time. I'd be the perfect candidate for one of them SPCA commercials, you know, the ones where they show the black and white footage of the most watery eyed, depressed looking puppies and kittens to try to coerce as much money out of your deeply empathetic grandmama's pockets as possible. Is that really the life you want for me dude?"
He didn't give much pause for a response before continuing. "Because that shit'll be your emotional burden to bear. You'll have to live with the knowledge that you could've been a better person but chose not to be. I get it man, you got a new puppy and didn't have time for me anymore. Just know that when judgement day rolls around, this shit is gonna count against you like, severely. What's worse, wiping a bro's asshole or an eternity of suffering and torture? Your choice man." His high was making him mix metaphors like fucking crazy. Not that it really mattered all that much he guessed. His mind was in at least three places at the moment what with talking, thinking about how fucking awesome a grilled cheese sounded right now, and trying not to think about how sensitive his dick felt with his packer squashing up against it while he walked.
—
Oh man, here we go...
The loaded question triggered John's rather impeccable sense for the impending Dave Strider nonsense monologue. It was a finely honed skill after this long of being friends with the guy.
He was not at all equipped to handle this, however. It was bad enough trying to follow when he hadn't spent the past hour in a car full of recycled weed smoke, rendering his brain a pile of goo. The chilly air could only do so much at restoring his listening skills against the tangents and mixed metaphors that Dave had a penchant for at John's expense.
John gave up on any attempt at comprehension around the time Dave got started on talking about sad animal tv commercials, the cold settling deep into his brain as they settled into their journey home. Between lapses in focus of Dave's shit laden guilt trip rant John could feel the familiar sinking feeling return in his gut. Walking home in the middle of the night after smoking this much weed was not going to do John any favors in the post-nut clarity department, the only clarity in his state being artificially manufactured by the temperature, which also didn't help.
Shit. Maybe tuning into whatever Dave was saying would actually be better than anything else John could be dwelling on for once in his life. He was pretty sure he missed a sizable chunk of what had been said. Maybe not in the terms of hearing that words had been spoken, but there was no way in hell he could piece together a single coherent sentence of what was said. He really only caught enough of the end to know that he was at least being posed with a choice between something about touching Dave's asshole or going to Hell forever.
"... I really hope you weren't expecting me to pay attention to all of that, dude. I dunno what the question was but I think I'd still probably take the forever pain and torture."
God was John tired of walking already.
—
John took a lengthy moment to respond, long enough that Dave had to glance over to make sure he was even aware he'd been asked a question in the first place. When he finally replied, Dave gave a responding shrug.
"Fair enough. I'm kind of offended to hear you're not hanging on my every word though, man. You're missing some primo material here." He gave up on really saying anything else as they walked the last minute or two back to their front door. Ugh, fuck both of them for landing an upstairs unit. Sure it wasn't as grueling as the climb up to his old apartment in the Houston heat had been whenever the elevator had gone out (which had actually been ridiculously frequently, rent was cheap as hell for a reason), but it still sucked because he was high as hell. And he'd definitely softened up quite a bit since absconding to Washington and not having to worry about daily rooftop throwdowns.
He fumbled with his key in the lock for a second, accidentally twisting the wrong way at first and scowling at the object like it was its fault he was an uncoordinated dumbass. When he finally got the damn door open, he practically ran inside, the warmth and comfortable yellowy glow of the indoors providing an escape from the frigid autumn night. Thank fuck it didn't get as hot as Texas and all, but christ was he not used to it being this cold this early in the year. He beelined for the kitchen, letting John deal with locking up as he opened the fridge and stared into it blankly for a solid 10 seconds. Oh, right.
"You want a grilled cheese?" He asked, looking over to John, who whipped his head around, eyes wide for a moment as his brain registered the question. He nodded probably as enthusiastically as he could in his high, post nut state, offering a hopeful "I would take a grilled cheese." in response. Fuck yeah.
When he finally delivered the plate of cheesy heaven to John, he had such a look of gratitude in those big ol' blue peepers that Dave thought he might puke over how adorable the guy managed to make himself all while sprawled unflatteringly out on his half of the couch. He raised a hand as John opened his mouth, plopping down on the other end. "Don't thank me, just doin' my wifely duties, man." Dude was so obviously exhausted. Dave guessed it was kind of his fault, what with the whole bomb ass beej sesh and all. He shifted in his seat, feeling that familiar clenching sensation in his crotch that signified that he really needed to jack off, like, as soon as possible.