[The drive is silent. John's fingers drum on the steering wheel and Dave messes with the music but John says nothing as they drive through the city back toward campus. He parks the car near the music building and he turns it off shortly after, giving Dave a glance out of the corner of his eye.]
Even if it isn't, I could get us in one way or another.
[ the seatbelt is off in a flicker and dave opens the door to slide out, and all the red he's wearing isn't really meant for stealth but that won't stop him being too quiet and automatically trying to blend for the evening. ]
[He follows and Dave opens his own door and John slips his hands into his pockets before he follows after him. The building is, in fact, unlocked as they enter. The lights are mostly off but John seems to know how to navigate. It's not too terribly late but he leads Dave down a few halls toward some of the practice rooms and toward his favorite piano.]
I believe that. But it should be easy and not bullshit.
[ he's not sure what he means to ask but whenever they reach the door he'll pull out a hairpin and slide down to his knees to get a look at what he's doing. it shouldn't take all that long? ]
It is your birthday...I thought maybe everything would be open still. [It's a pretty easy lock to open and shouldn't take very long to pick and open the door.] My sense of time is not as great as yours.
No it's okay. I wanted you to enjoy your party before this. [The door opens and John follows and he turns on the lowbeam overheads. It's a low source of light and he heads for the piano, settling on the bench before he turns to face Dave again.]
[ there's a not insignificant pause. it's not like this "present" isn't obviously going to be music and it isn't like that isn't dave's thing but he's hesitating for some reason he'd refuse to name to anyone but himself, a splinter of his timeline from the past or future.
but there is no dave strider come back in time to warn him about whatever he's afraid of, so after a few minutes he does start walking over to the bench, hands in his pockets as he debates what he wants to do or say or think. ]
[It just makes him all the more unsure if this really will be something well-received and he thinks about what he'd said to Eren before. With something like this you can't take it back once it's been given, and Dave likes music and everything but this is something different. He thinks, perhaps, they are both aware of it.]
If you want to, yes. It's your present, you are allowed to do whatever you want with it. I just want to know when you start that so that I do not start before you are ready.
[ look, either dave can walk away and pretend he's not as much of a hopeless disaster as he is, or he can just accept that he's going to be stuck down a gaping hell pit with no handholds back up. which is not the metaphor he wants, maybe, but.
he already decided fuck it and accepted what he figures is coming, so when dave perches on the end of the piano bench with one leg drawn up underneath himself it's with something like resignation or grace.
it is not the sort of beatdown he has historically signed on for, but it is, he thinks, maybe another variety of attack for which he has never had any defense.
he cycles his video camera out of his sylladex because he can't decide between an actual camera or not and figures the flipped out view screen will be another layer between them when he's well aware that's doing fuck all at the moment but whatever. flips it on, fiddles with the settings... ]
[The camera doesn't help. He's a little worried about what will happen from this and about Dave slamming up walls again because John can't keep himself in-check. He's not sure if this is acceptable anymore or if this is just him being a total idiot, but he nods and shits his hands on the keys.]
Okay. Happy birthday, dude. I think by now you have figured out I wrote you something...I hope you like it.
[ and yeah, the music is absolutely everything dave was afraid it was going to be. he can recognize it immediately as john's music, even if dave were to shut his eyes which he absolutely does not. it's like an accent in piano that he can pick out without thinking about it. and he has never heard this song before in any form and dave knows that means it isn't a cover, and it isn't one of those remembered or half-remembered songs from a past life they tossed back and forth, and he is completely terrified of trying to parse out any meaning from the notes because that would mean believing in things that simply aren't true.
people keep giving him vague advice based on vague statements dave sometimes makes as asides, not really meaning to ask for help but sometimes sliding somewhere near to it or just feeling like talking. the best advice was probably talking to him, frankly, about your concerns but he'd found the tangent of alternatively concocting an elaborate subterfuge in which you have someone else conduct reconnaissance for you so much more entertaining than the idea of honestly asking what the fuck was going on.
it is still entertaining, but also still completely unhelpful and even more importantly not a thing he'd actually ever do.
so he's perfectly quiet and still throughout the piece, camera trained on john, and dave isn't sure exactly how he's meant to react or how he wants to react (a lie, but he lets himself get away with it on the grounds he has to) and he wonders what john got rose because he's pretty sure it was not this holy shit. ]
[To his credit, he manages to pull the song off fairly accurately given he's only been practicing the full thing for maybe a week at this speed and further to his credit his hands are steady as he plays and they rest on the keys when he hits the final note.
What is he doing? What are they doing? He thinks about Eleanor's incredulity when he told her he was writing Dave a song, hidden with a bit of amusement, and he thinks of what Eren said about being lucky enough to create his own gifts. This doesn't feel like luck.
He isn't sure how he wants Dave to react either, but there's silence for a bit before he turns just slightly to grin.]
[ i hope the meta text isn't asking dave that question because dave hasn't known what the fuck he's doing since john egbert walked into his dorm room back in september. so. what the fuck.
john actually speaking startles dave enough that he remember words are, like, a thing.
and he should use those words. to say other words? ]
...what's the title? [ a stall while he tries to deal with Feelings is good, too. ]
[Cool, good to know nobody knows what's going on. So he's actually a little startled himself when Dave asks that question and his eyes avert again back to the keys.
The title? The title is something he thought of in his head but nothing he's said out loud.]
It does not really have a solid title. I just wanted to get it right in time.
dave had been holding the camera steady but he lets his left hand, holding it, slide to his lap, getting a great shot of the bench. his right hands scrubs up under his shades like he has a sudden headache. he still can't figure out a reaction beyond oh to the song but there's an immediate identifiable emotion to what john just said and it is "annoyed frustration" mingled with "sheer relief". ]
Oh my god. I hate you? I hate you a little bit. [ goddamnit. ] You're so - so -
[ he's still recording this because he hasn't bothered to shut it off so that's happening ig ]
This is why you've been ditching me and pushing me away off and on?
[There's a soft laugh but to his credit he does at least look a little guilty.]
I'm really sorry. I probably should have maybe said I was just working on your present but I wanted to surprise you which now seems pretty stupid but um. Yeah. The first song I wrote was finished around the end of October but then I decided it was not good enough so I worked on this one.
I thought you were gettin' a little tired of me. [ it's an honest statement born entirely out of confused surprise. which. john kept up their regular appointments, but even so. it's hard for dave to tell or believe if john wants anything in the same way or to the same degree dave does, and he's always half uncertain when he reaches out to initiate any sort of contact because while they've established the sleep thing should maybe stay the rest is all...
What? Don't be crazy, I could never get tired of you. [And honestly he looks a little alarmed by the notion. The unfortunate thing is he likes Dave too much.
Idly, even as he's talking, his fingers begin playing a slow different song. It sounds like it is missing elements but he's going along with it anyway.]
There are totally signs for it. [ says the kid who...can't...see the potentially glaring signs for the opposite because he's so fucking convinced it's impossible, but. is this really what he is going to do on the night of his eighteenth birthday. he's going to argue with john about whether or not john, who is playing him music on a piano in a room they broke into, is sick of him or not.
apparently. apparently this is what he's doing with his life. ]
Were. Are? [ he doesn't properly raise the camera again still but his gaze shifts to john's hands instead of his face. ]
...This isn't what I want to do right now. I mean, it isn't what I mean to do -
[ upset john. upset himself? argue about stupid things that are or aren't true, but. ]
I can't tell. If you do or don't like it when I touch you, outside of the context of the whole...thing we don't talk about. [ flaps his right hand, the one without the camera, vaguely. ]
[ what if he just kind of laughs to himself because he still cAN'T TELL is that just tolerating it and thinking it's kind of nice or actually wanting to hold hands and whatever or what?????
jfc he's not going to ask it was already ridiculous enough to say the first time. ]
So...you wrote a song. [ just. moving on and way the fuck away from that half-admitted insecurity because what is actually addressing your issues. kit had good advice but dave still can't bring himself to take it.
what if you just talk to him?
what if instead dave suppresses everything and pretends it's fine ]
[Dave is too insecure and nervous to ask and John's too blindsided to know what to say so he nods to himself. He swallows down a weird lump in his throat and he lets his hands slide into an aimless little tune.]
...it's fine if you don't like it. I am not going to be offended or anything. [Is that what this is?] But I wrote a song and I just...[There's a pause.] When I thought about you, this is what I wrote, and when I wrote it, I thought of you. There is no in between here.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
12/3 post-party
...like I said, the building should be unlocked.
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[ the seatbelt is off in a flicker and dave opens the door to slide out, and all the red he's wearing isn't really meant for stealth but that won't stop him being too quiet and automatically trying to blend for the evening. ]
By bullshit if nothing else?
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I believe that. But it should be easy and not bullshit.
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[ he's not sure what he means to ask but whenever they reach the door he'll pull out a hairpin and slide down to his knees to get a look at what he's doing. it shouldn't take all that long? ]
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[ even though he already has, standing back up and opening the door up to slip inside. ]
There is more than one way to break into a room, pretty much always.
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...come here?
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but there is no dave strider come back in time to warn him about whatever he's afraid of, so after a few minutes he does start walking over to the bench, hands in his pockets as he debates what he wants to do or say or think. ]
Do I get to record you?
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If you want to, yes. It's your present, you are allowed to do whatever you want with it. I just want to know when you start that so that I do not start before you are ready.
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he already decided fuck it and accepted what he figures is coming, so when dave perches on the end of the piano bench with one leg drawn up underneath himself it's with something like resignation or grace.
it is not the sort of beatdown he has historically signed on for, but it is, he thinks, maybe another variety of attack for which he has never had any defense.
he cycles his video camera out of his sylladex because he can't decide between an actual camera or not and figures the flipped out view screen will be another layer between them when he's well aware that's doing fuck all at the moment but whatever. flips it on, fiddles with the settings... ]
Whenever you wanna go, maestro.
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Okay. Happy birthday, dude. I think by now you have figured out I wrote you something...I hope you like it.
[And he looks at the keys before he begins to play.]
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people keep giving him vague advice based on vague statements dave sometimes makes as asides, not really meaning to ask for help but sometimes sliding somewhere near to it or just feeling like talking. the best advice was probably talking to him, frankly, about your concerns but he'd found the tangent of alternatively concocting an elaborate subterfuge in which you have someone else conduct reconnaissance for you so much more entertaining than the idea of honestly asking what the fuck was going on.
it is still entertaining, but also still completely unhelpful and even more importantly not a thing he'd actually ever do.
so he's perfectly quiet and still throughout the piece, camera trained on john, and dave isn't sure exactly how he's meant to react or how he wants to react (a lie, but he lets himself get away with it on the grounds he has to) and he wonders what john got rose because he's pretty sure it was not this holy shit. ]
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What is he doing? What are they doing? He thinks about Eleanor's incredulity when he told her he was writing Dave a song, hidden with a bit of amusement, and he thinks of what Eren said about being lucky enough to create his own gifts. This doesn't feel like luck.
He isn't sure how he wants Dave to react either, but there's silence for a bit before he turns just slightly to grin.]
...sorry it was sort of long.
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john actually speaking startles dave enough that he remember words are, like, a thing.
and he should use those words. to say other words? ]
...what's the title? [ a stall while he tries to deal with Feelings is good, too. ]
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The title? The title is something he thought of in his head but nothing he's said out loud.]
It does not really have a solid title. I just wanted to get it right in time.
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dave had been holding the camera steady but he lets his left hand, holding it, slide to his lap, getting a great shot of the bench. his right hands scrubs up under his shades like he has a sudden headache. he still can't figure out a reaction beyond oh to the song but there's an immediate identifiable emotion to what john just said and it is "annoyed frustration" mingled with "sheer relief". ]
Oh my god. I hate you? I hate you a little bit. [ goddamnit. ] You're so - so -
[ he's still recording this because he hasn't bothered to shut it off so that's happening ig ]
This is why you've been ditching me and pushing me away off and on?
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I'm really sorry. I probably should have maybe said I was just working on your present but I wanted to surprise you which now seems pretty stupid but um. Yeah. The first song I wrote was finished around the end of October but then I decided it was not good enough so I worked on this one.
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dave being an idiot? ]
An IOU would have worked. You didn't...
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Idly, even as he's talking, his fingers begin playing a slow different song. It sounds like it is missing elements but he's going along with it anyway.]
...I wanted to. Write you something, I mean.
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apparently. apparently this is what he's doing with his life. ]
Were. Are? [ he doesn't properly raise the camera again still but his gaze shifts to john's hands instead of his face. ]
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What signs, Dave? What are you actually talking about right now?
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[ upset john. upset himself? argue about stupid things that are or aren't true, but. ]
I can't tell. If you do or don't like it when I touch you, outside of the context of the whole...thing we don't talk about. [ flaps his right hand, the one without the camera, vaguely. ]
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...I do not mind it. It's a nice reminder that you exist.
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jfc he's not going to ask it was already ridiculous enough to say the first time. ]
So...you wrote a song. [ just. moving on and way the fuck away from that half-admitted insecurity because what is actually addressing your issues. kit had good advice but dave still can't bring himself to take it.
what if you just talk to him?
what if instead dave suppresses everything and pretends it's fine ]
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...it's fine if you don't like it. I am not going to be offended or anything. [Is that what this is?] But I wrote a song and I just...[There's a pause.] When I thought about you, this is what I wrote, and when I wrote it, I thought of you. There is no in between here.
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