Yeah, I suppose that's fair. I'm pretty sure after a while Nanna was not that fond of Vic either. Parents. [But whatever, he's following Dave through the house and they disappear and reappear into what's definitely a shared bedroom.
It's bewildering in a way because John's always been an only child (in this lifetime, anyway) so seeing the results of two siblings in one shared space is still something different. He doesn't know much about Dirk beyond what he remembers and what Dave's told him so he enters the room and settles for glancing around.
Two dudes with drastically different interests. The MLP poster gets a slight smile because yeah, he knows where that came from, and his immediate attention goes to the photos. The dead jars don't surprise him either because he's aware his boyfriend's a fucking weirdo that way but here we are.
And music equipment and stuff. It's so...much.
But he turns his head when Dave locks the door and gives him an equally small grin.]
[ the workbench is more organized chaos than some of the rest; there's also. preservation supplies for more weird dead shit at dave's desk i'm sorry.
the photos are weird landscape and architecture shots; food and dead shit and his family. jade and chiyo and anya and yuri. people he knows and has known, up through his graduation.
he drops john's hand and cracks his knuckles and drifts towards the turntables he doesn't have room for elsewhere. ]
I promised you a lullaby at some point? [ over his shoulder. ] My style, live.
It's not like it's perfect. [ he sounds more amused than he doesn't. ] ...But it's also a bit more freestyle than your shit. You can sit on the bed or one of the chairs or just stand around - well, wait, no, just come over here.
[ he headphones are already being lifted, and the other set - the one dirk used to wear when they worked together is held out to john. ]
I don't care about perfection in cases like this. [It's almost too-eager how he steps forward to be close to him, immediately picking up the second set of headphones and looping them around his neck. They'll go on when Dave's ready.] Are you ready?
[ like. he's more than a little nervous, but there's something almost familiar about the anxious frisson of energy under his skin. ] For music with you? Yeah, always.
[ so he slides on his headphones and waits for john to do the same, starting to switch things on and pull up what he needs. ]
[He follows immediately, headphones on and watching Dave's hands because he's not used to turntables still, and he patiently waits. He doesn't exactly pick up on Dave's mood but he's curious.
Usually he's the one writing music. The reverse is bound to leave him wondering.]
[ dave's always got too much going on forever, because keeping busy means he doesn't have to think. he has too many hobbies and swings between them wildly, and he's written shit before but he knows it's not the same as how john works. dave just kind of does whatever. a lot of the time he'll remix recorded shit other people do.
sometimes he'll remix his own bullshit, though.
this is bits and pieces of his own shit threaded into something he's terming "lullaby" even though dave's a bit too fond of heavy beats to probably make it the most soothing.
watching his hands isn't a bad move. he stops fucking with the fader and goes to the record, cuing up the start of the beat. mixing usually means layering, and he's...
apparently, he's layering multiple takes on the same composition together. this fading in and out with a more video game option. he's doing it mostly by ear and instinct, kind of adding effects on a whim, and it's rough-cut and could use some polish.
but he kind of felt like he should do something, maybe, when they're not going to fucking see one another for the rest of the month, minimum. ]
[It's the same song. He recognizes that on instinct and if Dave catches the movement out of the corner of his eye he'll notice that John's fingers flex almost like he wants to play the matching notes. His hands still and he listens, eyes darting back and forth between the knobs and buttons and Dave's stupid (perfect) hands. Instead of playing notes, his fingers wrap around the cord of his borrowed headphones and he's contemplating and yet...he's pleased.
Part of him wants to move to actually touch things and decides that's probably not a great idea either and maybe it's greedy but he mostly wants to see what Dave does on his own.
But he's quiet the whole time until Dave's finished, memorizing what he's hearing anyway.]
[ eventually he'll fade the song out entirely and drag his headphones off to rest around his neck, finally looking over at john fully. he'd noticed the fingers flexing, and that's...probably a good sign?
there's a tentative smile, unforced and not his usual wry amusement, as he tries to figure it out. ]
[It's a definite good sign. John slowly removes his headphones but he pulls on the cord of Dave's to draw him a little closer.]
I like it. A lot. If you count the instruments and the beats you had at least six separate layers going and the blending...it's really cool. [He sounds calm but his expression is almost a little manic because it was a sound he wants to kind of wrap himself up in permanently.]
[Look, there's only like one thing John has a bigger boner for than Dave and it's music, so Dave + Music is pretty much a recipe for self-combusting? He's trying not to be too excited but it's not really working given that he has this big-ass dorky grin suddenly and he immediately loops his arms around Dave's shoulders, headphones or not.]
Yeah? Sweet. [There's also a brief, fleeting kiss to his cheek.] Thanks...[His eyes go back toward the turntables again though.] We're going to have to move this to the new house whenever that is. If I am getting a piano it's only fair.
[ glad john knows what he likes?? and honestly he hadn't really thought too much about the turntables (he wanted them but he'd give them up in a second if the space didn't work out, because music is important but john is maybe more important). dave loops his own arms around john's waist, automatic. ]
Yeah, why not? If we get a place with two bedrooms anyway then we'd have enough space for a music room. Storage and music and cat room. I think it makes sense. [Cool, this is pretty much his favorite position so thanks Dave.] I'm still working on new pieces, too. So it would be cool to do remixes and stuff. Like a thing we do together?
[...] We used to back then, so...it sounds really fun.
I mean, yes, please? Always. I don't exactly have to worry about what I worried about back on my birthday, so yeah, I want to do shit together with you. Musically. Like the non-ridiculous version of a teen pop musical duet, lifestyle wise.
[ a shrug. ] I knew as soon as you took me to the music room that there was absolutely no way in fuckin' hell I wouldn't be stuck with a crush on you forever if I let you play me anything.
[ or stuck with worse? ]
I mean, I wasn't wrong, either. [ it just happened to work out so that's okay then. ]
Yeah, I've since been informed that playing your best bro a song you wrote for his birthday, especially that kind of song is pretty gay so I suppose a crush would have been a step in the right direction. [Thanks John. His hands squeeze a little tighter to hold onto him.]
I mean, I knew I wouldn't be able to just. Ignore it anymore. [ but he considers the aside like he does any tangental question posed to him ever. ] And I assume because of how it feels? Like your heart is being squeezed into last year's little black dress dress, before you gained all the holiday weight from eating too much dessert.
First of all, some of us don't gain holiday weight. [Like John for instance. Or even Dave, much to John's chagrin.] But I get it. One of those things that presses in on you without warning.
I'm glad you didn't ignore it when it was out in the open, for the record. But I am sorry I ever made you really worry about how much I liked you. [He's going to continue being sorry apparently.]
[ dave...rolls his eyes. ] Dude, that's not really your fault? I just. Thought it seemed a little too good to be true, because I wanted you a little too much. Want you. Whatever. [ tenses! ] ...And since, like, March. I've had a little bit of trouble conceptualizing that it's...okay. To do that.
I'm still not sure what "too much" is when the want thing is pretty mutual at this point. But yeah. I know. It's been a while for you.
[He pulls back a little then (still keeping his arms around Dave) and makes the most serious face possible.] Dave Strider. It is definitely okay for you to want me. I completely understand. [...okay. Maybe there's a grin tacked on anyway.]
At all. [ dave clarifies, like that clarifies anything what so fucking ever. and maybe someday it'll make sense to john if dave ever actually talks to his fucking boyfriend about the things that make him tick, but he doesn't even consider it right this second. he just snorts, because john's ridiculous, and god he really doesn't want to go back to magatus tomorrow. ] ...Anyway, I couldn't stop myself if I tried at this point. I could hide it, maybe, but that's about it.
[There's another perplexed look. Hm. Yeah, maybe please talk to your boyfriend, Dave. Someday. But yeah he doesn't feel like going back either so instead it's just back to teasing Dave.]
You were sleeping in my bed. I am not sure how much hiding we were doing at the end anyway now that I think about it. But I get it. I was pretty sure it was too good to be possible, too. On top of everything else. [A sexuality crisis, other-life crisis, etc.]
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It's bewildering in a way because John's always been an only child (in this lifetime, anyway) so seeing the results of two siblings in one shared space is still something different. He doesn't know much about Dirk beyond what he remembers and what Dave's told him so he enters the room and settles for glancing around.
Two dudes with drastically different interests. The MLP poster gets a slight smile because yeah, he knows where that came from, and his immediate attention goes to the photos. The dead jars don't surprise him either because he's aware his boyfriend's a fucking weirdo that way but here we are.
And music equipment and stuff. It's so...much.
But he turns his head when Dave locks the door and gives him an equally small grin.]
Sooo...childhood bedroom.
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the photos are weird landscape and architecture shots; food and dead shit and his family. jade and chiyo and anya and yuri. people he knows and has known, up through his graduation.
he drops john's hand and cracks his knuckles and drifts towards the turntables he doesn't have room for elsewhere. ]
I promised you a lullaby at some point? [ over his shoulder. ] My style, live.
[ he's not the piano guy. ]
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...yeah, you did. I didn't know you had something already.
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[ he headphones are already being lifted, and the other set - the one dirk used to wear when they worked together is held out to john. ]
So we can try not to bug anyone else too much.
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[ so he slides on his headphones and waits for john to do the same, starting to switch things on and pull up what he needs. ]
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Usually he's the one writing music. The reverse is bound to leave him wondering.]
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sometimes he'll remix his own bullshit, though.
this is bits and pieces of his own shit threaded into something he's terming "lullaby" even though dave's a bit too fond of heavy beats to probably make it the most soothing.
watching his hands isn't a bad move. he stops fucking with the fader and goes to the record, cuing up the start of the beat. mixing usually means layering, and he's...
apparently, he's layering multiple takes on the same composition together. this fading in and out with a more video game option. he's doing it mostly by ear and instinct, kind of adding effects on a whim, and it's rough-cut and could use some polish.
but he kind of felt like he should do something, maybe, when they're not going to fucking see one another for the rest of the month, minimum. ]
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Part of him wants to move to actually touch things and decides that's probably not a great idea either and maybe it's greedy but he mostly wants to see what Dave does on his own.
But he's quiet the whole time until Dave's finished, memorizing what he's hearing anyway.]
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there's a tentative smile, unforced and not his usual wry amusement, as he tries to figure it out. ]
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I like it. A lot. If you count the instruments and the beats you had at least six separate layers going and the blending...it's really cool. [He sounds calm but his expression is almost a little manic because it was a sound he wants to kind of wrap himself up in permanently.]
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it'd suck if not because dave was really hit hard by john's fucking piano music on his birthday. he lets himself be tugged closer without complaint. ]
S'yours, then.
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Yeah? Sweet. [There's also a brief, fleeting kiss to his cheek.] Thanks...[His eyes go back toward the turntables again though.] We're going to have to move this to the new house whenever that is. If I am getting a piano it's only fair.
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And play together?
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[...] We used to back then, so...it sounds really fun.
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[ or stuck with worse? ]
I mean, I wasn't wrong, either. [ it just happened to work out so that's okay then. ]
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Why do you think they call it a crush anyway?
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I'm glad you didn't ignore it when it was out in the open, for the record. But I am sorry I ever made you really worry about how much I liked you. [He's going to continue being sorry apparently.]
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[He pulls back a little then (still keeping his arms around Dave) and makes the most serious face possible.] Dave Strider. It is definitely okay for you to want me. I completely understand. [...okay. Maybe there's a grin tacked on anyway.]
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You were sleeping in my bed. I am not sure how much hiding we were doing at the end anyway now that I think about it. But I get it. I was pretty sure it was too good to be possible, too. On top of everything else. [A sexuality crisis, other-life crisis, etc.]
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