Dave x John Zombiestuck RP - Pt. 9

John leaned into Dave's touch, comforted by the gesture and smiled softly at the tiny spark of life in Dave's voice. It would take a while, but Dave would heal. They would be okay.

John nodded, standing up after only a few more seconds of extended contact on his cheek from Dave's hand and took his fingers into his own instead.

"That sounds amazing.... and basing on the size of the house, it should be pretty magnificent, huh?" John laughed a soft laugh, almost not daring to because of the mood. It still felt good though.




Dave managed a smile that was as small as the first one John had seen from him. He stood up slowly, still not trying to stress himself.

"Yeah. We can use the one in the guest bedroom. Doesn't feel right using Mom's or Rose's. Did you pack other clothes from the store when we left?"

A shower wouldn't be so bad. His last wash was probably when he and John fell in the river. Before that, it had been a few months.

Tonight was going to be okay. They weren't going to be bothered by any undead. They were going to have a shower, they were going to eat, maybe even watch a movie, and they were going to sleep side by side without worry of death.

Tonight was going to be okay.




John shook his head apologetically. "I'm afraid not, clothes weren't my first thought while packing, I guess..." he said, moving slowly with Dave as they started to walk towards the guestroom. He didn't know which one it was, so he was really just following Dave's lead.

"I did pack a whole lot of medical stuff though... We'll need to change your bandages once we get out and if you're up for it, we might want to wash the wound itself. I put peroxide on it, but that might not be enough for long lasting decontamination." He paused. "If you're not up for it, we could do that later. It might be best just to have a relaxing shower for right now..."




"It's fine. You can clean it after. You might as well maybe... sew some of it up." He shrugged and led John into the guest bedroom, turning the light on. "There's probably some spare clothes around here anyway. Bro and I stayed one summer, and he probably left shit behind."

The bathroom was magnificent as predicted, the shower wide with several showerheads added. Dave froze when he looked in the big mirror over the sinks though. It was the first time he had seen himself in several years. His hair was long and his face was dirty and... he didn't really recognize himself. The missing arm just topped it all off.

He didn't ask for help when trying to get his sweatshirt off, wincing once or twice from his wound. He got his shirt off too, then stared at himself again. He was so skinny. He touched his ribs and his face, then ran his fingers across some of his scars.

"Wow..."




John was having the same feelings of wonderment that Dave was, looking at the boy in the mirror that shared his eyes and wondering just how things had gotten to this point. When he noticed that Dave was doing the same thing, he wrapped his arms around Dave's waist and kissed his neck softly.

To him, this was normal Dave. He loved him, no matter what he looked like and neither of them had anything to be ashamed of. Harsh conditions of living did this to you.

John moved his hand up to card through Dave's hair, moving his lips to plant a soft kiss on Dave's, and held it there, relishing the contact as if it was the last he would ever get.
For all he knew, it could be. So he cherished every second.




He stopped staring at his abused body when he felt John's arms around him, along with his warm lips on his neck. He closed his eyes when their mouths met, pressing into like a blissful fit while his hand rested on John's hip, pulling their bodies together closer.

He held onto this kiss the same way John was. He parted his lips and broke the kiss for only a second, then pressed back in, kissing in a way that showed he needed it. That he needed John. His hand ran up the smooth skin of his side, and his tongue ran out across the other's bottom lip where he could barely taste his earlier dried tears.




John was the one to finally part them, a thick blush covering his cheeks as he remembered exactly why they were in the bathroom in the first place.

"We should... we need to get the shower running, huh?" John asked breathlessly. He had yet to take off his lower clothing and was slightly thankful for the coverage of jeans and the uncomfortable pressure they brought.

He walked over to the shower, taking only a moment to figure out how it worked before letting the water pour down from the showerhead and warm up for them.

He came back over to Dave, deciding to help him with his pants. Getting jeans off with only one hand would be difficult for him, John was sure. He hooked his fingers under the button and popped it open quickly, undoing the zipper straight after. The blush was still in place on his face, rising up to the tips of his ears and painting down his neck.




Dave found it a little easier to smile now. John's whole face was red, almost matching those bruises around his neck. He was cute when flustered, but Dave didn't say anything to tease him, because he knew that John was already embarrassed enough. It wasn't like it was well hidden.

"Thanks," he said quietly when his jeans were off. He didn't have any shame or embarrassment about his body, and he easily kicked his boxers away before sticking his hand in the shower to feel the hot water. God, that was nice.

He looked back at John with a little smirk, going through some cabinets to lay a few towels on the floor, also finding the shampoo and body wash, setting them on a shelf in the shower.

"You should feel lucky you're seeing this for free. Most have to pay to get a view like this," Dave finally teased with a wink at John, adding on a stupid pose with his hand on his hip.




John laughed, snorting in between giggles, embarrassment starting to ebb a bit.

"I'm so sure, Dave, I bet you make all the undead girls swoon~!" he said, putting his hand on his forehead and leaning back dramatically before swatting Dave's good arm and moving to remove his own pants and boxers.

He was the first to get in, leaving enough room for Dave to stand comfortably and get a lot of the spraying hot water. Dave probably needed it more than he did right now. John forced himself not to be subconscious and instead focused on the feeling of hot water on his skin after such a long time, a soft moan slipping from between his lips as he closed his eyes and relished the long forgotten feeling.

"Oh God, Dave, hurry and get in, this is heaven!" he groaned, smiling blissfully.




He laughed a bit with John as he stepped into the shower after him, using another showerhead.

The hot water stung a bit at first, hitting old blisters on his shoulders from when he was always wearing that backpack. His arm was a little sore from the heat, but otherwise John was right. It was heaven. His eyes closed as he tipped his head back, letting his mouth fill with the freshness, his hand running back through his hair after. When he looked at the bottom of the shower, he saw dirty water rushing away down the drain, and also blood that had been stained all over his wounded arm.

"Who needs utopia death, we've got a fucking shower," Dave said. He let out a hum of contentedness and happiness, eyes falling closed again. "You think you can help me with the shampoo?"




John nodded, reaching his hand out of the spray for a moment to grab the bottle labeled shampoo and squirting a liberal amount into his palm. He massaged the soap in his hands, getting it to lather and warming it up before running his hands through Dave's hair for the first time.

"Wow," he said, massaging the scalp under waves of hair. "We really do need hair cuts, jeez!" The hair under his fingers went most of the way down Dave's neck when wet, it's length accentuated.

He kept lathering until he felt it was clean enough (and maybe a little longer, Dave's hair felt nice) and then spoke softly. "I need you wash it all out now, tip you head back, would you?"




Dave was a sucker for hairplay. His brother used to do it to help him sleep. So his eyes simply closed again, lulled by the fingers practically massaging his scalp, body almost swaying with the way John moved them.

His hand found its way to John's hip again, just sitting there while his thumb rubbed little circles. He tipped his head back when he was told to, and it was as if all the dirtiness from the past years came rushing off of him.

"I don't think a guy with one hand should give you a haircut, though. That's your job," he muttered with a little scoffing laugh. "But God, this is nice... We should just live in the shower, John."




John giggled, a little sound erupting in his chest. "Good point, I'll do my own hair and yours. I'm pretty good with my hands~!" he said, taking one hand away from Dave's scalp to wiggle his fingers mysteriously. He was referring to piano, any way that this sounded dirty went right over his head.

Another laugh came at Dave's comment. "If we could seriously live in the shower, I would be perfectly okay with that, but I think we'd shrivel into raisins that way, Dave," he chuckled, done with Dave's hair and turning to do his own.




Dave snorted at John's little dirty comment, but decided not to point it out. "All right, all right." He ran a hand back through his newly cleaned hair, shocked from the cleanliness.

While John was busy with his own hair, Dave stepped closer to examine the bruises, making sure they weren't too bad. His hand brushed along them, and he couldn't help it as he leaned in and pressed soft kisses along the discolored skin, as if it might heal them. Maybe the steam was getting to his head, but he felt so good right now.

"You're really beautiful," he murmured breathlessly, pressing more kisses up his neck to under his ear.




John couldn't tell how much of the flush on his cheeks was from the steam and how much was from Dave suddenly kissing his neck. He kept washing his hair, trying to act nonchalant about everything.

"Th-thanks, Mr. Strider..." he said, smiling a soft smile and hoping the red in his cheeks wasn't too conspicuous. "You're not too bad yourself..."

He gave Dave a little warning so he knew he was going to, and then tipped his head back to rinse out the suds.




When John's head tipped back, Dave leaned in and kissed down his throat before finally backing away and giving John a break. His face was getting pretty red again.

He gave him a soft smirk, able to wash his body with the bar of soap in one hand. He almost dropped it a few times, but quickly caught it before it hit the ground. He watched even more dirt go down the drain, stains of grim on his body disappearing and showing only his normal scars from life.

"I can wash you if you want," Dave teased when he was done.




John's eyes widened a fraction and he laughed, blush intensifying.

"Sure, that sounds fair," he said, not being sarcastic at all, he was more teasing than anything. "Not gonna give me a chance to drop the soap, such a gentleman!"

John did one last rinse of his hair, marveling at the cleanliness he suddenly felt under his fingers. He noticed also that the blood from Dave's arm was mostly off of his hands by now too. That made him smile gratefully. Thank God for showers.




Dave's bandages were getting loose from being wet, but he ignored it and stepped back into John's area of the shower. He had been originally joking, not sure if John knew he was joking or not, or if he was okay with that, but... seemed like it.

He thought it'd be kind of sexy or whatever, lathering John up in soap himself, but one hand made things difficult and he ended up dropping it within the first ten seconds. He sighed a bit dramatically and dropped his forehead on John's shoulder.

"Missing limbs ruin sex appeal," he muttered like a whiny child.




John giggled, leaning down to pick up the bar of soap gently. He put it back into Dave's hand with care, putting the soap back onto the skin of his chest before placing his own hand over Dave's and intertwining their fingers so there were two hands holding the slippery bar.

"Here, this should help, huh?" he asked, smiling up at Dave and carding his other hand through recently washed blonde hair. The steam must've started to get to him, he was feeling pleasantly lightheaded, cheeks crimson as he grinned.



"Shit, now I'm the nervous one," he chuckled. "How'd that happen?"

He looked down at their hands, letting out a slow breath before rubbing the soap along John's body, getting rid of all the dirt that tried to stay clung to his body. There was something actually nice about it. Just cleaning the other and standing there in that sweet heat.

When he got John's body cleaned, the soap was kind of forgotten, and he was back to the other's neck. Nuzzling and then running his tongue along his skin.




John scratched along Dave's scalp, grabbing conditioner absentmindedly and putting some into Dave's hair. He remembered once when he was younger that Jade had put some in his hair and it had made it extremely soft.

John hummed contentedly when Dave went back to his neck, the mix of pressure and heat on his neck's bruises now feeling nice, since he was expecting it.

"What is it with you and my neck?" he laughed. It wasn't like he could really talk, he'd been playing with Dave's hair for practically the entire time. "Not that I'm complaining..."



"I dunno, 'guess we just found out my fetish," he chuckled against his skin. He stopped though, because John was playing with his hair again, and he loved that. He nuzzled John's neck again affectionately, his hand rubbing John's side.

"We should watch a movie tonight... and cuddle. And get our hair cut." He mumbled a few other things, but his voice became incoherent.

Then his arm wrapped around John's middle, pressing their bodies into each other, bare skin and all, causing Dave to let out a hot and slow breath against John's ear.



John felt a shiver go up his spine at the contact and breath on his ear and he nodded happily. "We'll do all that stuff... We've got all the time in the world," he said wrapping his own arms around Dave's torso and pulling him closer still, no longer embarrassed about contact with him.

"Let me rinse out the conditioner from your hair, and then we can get out and get started on that list," John said, pulling away reluctantly and reaching to start cleaning off Dave's long blonde locks again.

If they stayed in too long they really would turn into complete raisins, and he wasn't even sure if the hot water would stick around forever. They should save some for later showers.




He hummed pleasantly at the sensation, and could already tell how soft his hair had become. But getting out also meant having to screw around with his wound, and he wasn't looking forward to that.

When John was done with his hair, he just kept holding him. Just for a few more minutes he wanted to stand in the heat of the water, with John pressed against him, forgetting about the scariness of the outside world.

"Mm... Okay, we can get out now," he finally mumbled, standing up straight and reaching for the handle to turn the water off.




John prepared himself mentally for what was sure to be a blast of cold as soon as they turned the water off. As soon as the water stopped, he stepped out, shivering visibly and going to grab a towel for himself and for Dave as fast as he could.

Throwing the larger one he found to Dave, he began to dry himself off, tying the towel around his waist when he was finished and then moving to help Dave if he needed it.

"We should sit you up on the bed in here..." he said, gesturing to the guestroom bed. "I'll start getting stuff out and ready." He needed to change his ankle brace too; water couldn't be good for it, but he couldn't bring himself to face the pain of standing in the shower without it.




"All right." While John got their supplies and things for cleaning his wound and for their other plans, Dave didn't worry about looking cool while rolling on the floor to get his pants up with one hand.

He felt really accomplished when he finally got them up. There were tears in his eyes too, his arm throbbing in pain at the moment. He didn't put his shirt on so that it wouldn't get in the way when John sewed and bandaged his wound, going into the other room and sitting on the bed. It even had a TV. God, this would probably be the most relaxing night he's ever had.

"John," he called out to wherever he was. "We're watching a classic Disney movie today, and you're not stopping me. It's better than Cage's face, I promise!"




John had ended up just grabbing his entire bag and headed back to the bedroom. It would be easier to carry it all than to rummage through and go back only to realize he'd forgotten something. He hefted the bag onto the bed and scooted up next to Dave's injured side, beginning to carefully unwrap the bandage.

"Hey! Nothing is better than Nic Cage's face!" he laughed, getting the top layer of wrapping off. "But sure, I'd be up for Disney. We'll have to see what Rose has tucked away; we didn't pick up any at Wal-Mart."

John got the whole pile of bandaging off not except for the gauze. "This might hurt a bit more... You don't have to watch if you don't want to," he warned before pulling the gauze from the open wound.

It came off stickily, covered in red with no white showing anymore. John made sure to dispose of it quickly in a trashcan nearby and got to work with the needle and thread that he'd treated with peroxide.




"I'm sure Rose has good movies," Dave scoffed.

He glanced over, watching the gauze come off, even if John said he didn't have to. Shit. He breath caught at the sight of it for a bit. That was his muscle. And cut skin. And his blood, and wow, was that his bone?

He looked away for a bit. Took a deep breath. Closed his eyes. He knew he was going to be in pain for a while.

"Phew... Okay, remember when you sang in the van a while back? Could you sing again while you sew it please?" He needed something to distract him. Especially when he was about to have a needle going in his skin over and over again.




John nodded, thinking quickly of a song, hopefully something soothing. He found one, remembering the lyrics before singing. This time it was a lullaby his dad had always sung to him, peaceful melody having calmed him down many a time.

Ocean blue, you'll find a way. Far from view, you are my hideaway. For no reason but the truth, I'll stay here where the sun trickles through, ocean blue...

As he started the song, he slipped the needle into Dave's flesh, trying to be as gentle as possible and focus on his work while letting notes spill forth.

What's that you say? I'm a fool, because I run away. For no reason but the truth, I'll stay here, where the sun trickles through, ocean blue...

It didn't take him long to finish—there wasn't much to be done with such a gaping wound. But he did what he could and covered the rest in gauze that wasn't covered in peroxide this time. They would be cleaning it tomorrow anyway, he could put more permanent bandaging on then.

He finished wrapping Dave's arm, making sure it was secure, and went down to look in a cabinet under the TV for movies. Luckily, he found it to be full of DVDs. John smiled and started digging around. He found a few romances, and some horror ones, and after a minute of digging through, he found two Disney movies.

"Okay, we've got the Lion King and Beauty and the Beast so far..." he said, hoping to distract Dave from the pain in his arm. "I haven't seen either of these, so pick either one."
Dad had never been one for Disney movies, but John had liked the ones he'd seen so far.




Dave bit his lips together, occasional groans coming free when the needle went though a sensitive spot. The pain was nonstop sore with throbs now, but he knew it was for the greater good of healing it, so he tried not to complain.

When it was all over, he only wiped his tears when John wasn't looking. Then he calmed himself and replied, "Lion King, for the win. Always Lion King. It's one of the classics of all classics. How can your resist Simba's cute little face? It's literally beckoning to—"

He stopped when he heard a scratch on the door. His heart leapt into his throat for a few seconds. There shouldn't have been zombies out here. Mom was dead. Rose was dead. It was just them in the house.

He picked up his katana and headed towards the door quickly. He wasn't in the mood for zombies today, and wasn't afraid to get a little bloody again.

He was in for a different surprise when he opened the door though.

"... Jaspers?"




John followed Dave to the door, still holding the movie of choice in his hand along with his hammer, fearing the worst.

But when Dave opened the door there was only a cat.

"A cat?" he asked, wanting to facepalm afterwards. Of course it was a cat, captain obvious strikes again. He took a moment to let go of a breath he'd been holding.

"What's it doing here? Is it Rose's?"




"Yeah. Don't know how the little guy is still alive. Probably eating mice outside or something." He picked up the skinny cat, smiling at how it was immediately nuzzling under his chin. "Awwwww. Come on, John. Got a thing against cats? Isn't he the cutest?"

Holding Jaspers by the scarf of his neck, he held him out in front of John's face. He raised his voice a few pitches speaking, "Hi, Johnny! I'm Jaspers! Loooove me!"




John was hesitant to get near the cat; after living years with Jade and Bec he'd become more of a dog person, but at Dave's horrible puppeteering he had to laugh.

"Alright, alright, hey, Jaspers, nice to meet y—ow!" John had reached out a hand after stowing away his hammer to pet Jaspers only for the cat to hiss and slice his tiny claws out into John's hand.

"I think your impersonation of him was wrong, Dave," he said, turning to suck on his sliced hand. "More like 'Hi, John, I wanna claw your freakin’ face off!'"




"Naaah, he just doesn't know you yet. He must recognize me though. Huh, buddy?" He made some baby talk noises at the cat before letting the guy hop to the floor. Jaspers usually didn't make himself known, always hiding and doing his own thing, but perhaps he had gotten a bit lonely.

He was already hiding under the bed. It had been nice seeing other animal life for the first time in years though.

Dave sat on the floor instead of sitting on the bed, patting the spot beside him. "Come. You're going to cut my hair while the movie plays. Then we're going to snuggle real manly-like and stuff. Chop-chop, Jonathan."




John watched the place where Jaspers had disappeared under the bed warily, not trusting him not to come out and slice up his back while he was sitting on the floor.
He sat down slowly, throwing one last suspicious glare to the space between the bed and the floor before popping the movie in and grabbing some scissors that he'd nabbed back in the store.

"Hold still," John said, probably not needing to. Dave's eyes were already glued to the screen, even though it was still on commercials for Disney dot com and other movies that would be 'coming soon to own on video and DVD'. He gave Dave the remote so he could hit play at the right time, and began to cut through lock after lock of blonde hair.

He remembered Dad not letting him watch this movie specifically, even though he'd asked about it. Now was a good time to find out, he supposed, trying to focus on both the commercials on screen and not completely fucking up Dave's hair.




Dave stared at the upcoming movies that had come out almost decades ago, but he loved the memories they brought. Memories of his apartment back in Texas, growing up with his brother.

He smiled, wiggling his fingers and watching Jaspers' paws shoot out from under the bed a few times, trying to nab at them. As soon as he tried to pet the animal, he darted back for cover though.

When the movie actually began, Dave loudly sang along with the opening "Circle of Life." He knew no language from Africa, so he made up random words and belted them out as if he were on stage with an audience. The only lyrics he knew was the whole "circle of life" part.




John had to hold back loud belt of laughter, instead they came out sounding like repressed snorts behind his hand as he giggled away at Dave's carefree attitude and attempt at singing in another language.

He watched Dave's hair falling to the ground, glancing up at the screen every few seconds and catching small glimpses of a tiny lion cub who he assumed was 'Simba' as Dave had called him. He had to admit, he was cute. Little paws... big eyes...

That didn't make him like Jaspers any more though. This was a cartoon lion, not an actual cat who seemed to like the sight of his blood.




Dave's head literally felt lighter as his hair continued falling to the floor. He was completely engrossed in the movie and the memories, forgetting all about the pain in his arm. Like he earlier thought, this was going to be a good night.

"I never liked Zazu," Dave said. "Such a stuck up. Mufasa is such a beast though, like damn. What a badass. Wouldn't wanna fuck with that lion."

Was he really talking about how sweet a cartoon lion was? Yes. Yes he was, and it felt great. He had never felt so relaxed and unworried about life.

"How you doing back there?"




"Would you really want to fuck with any lion?" John asked with a laugh.

"Almost done; I've just got the back here to do. It's gonna be a bit choppy, but it'll grow out quickly. I'm not a hair stylist, and who is going to care anyway?" he said, moving his scissors back into the last patch of hair that he needed to fix.

A brown lion with a scar, who was coincidentally named Scar—"Oh wow Dave, what an original name! I wonder if he got the scar just to get revenge for his parents naming him that."—came onto the screen and tried to eat Zazu and John found himself laughing at the kiddish humor like he was eight years old.

Finally, he finished with Dave's hair and sat down, deciding to cut his own hair when he wasn't distracted and hopefully had a mirror or two to help guide him.




"Dude, he had a different name before. He tired to go kill a giant buffalo to prove he was stronger than his brother, and got slashed on the eye, then everyone called him Scar to ridicule him. Don't even. I did my wiki researched back in the day, all right?" He added a little wrist flick in there to make a point.

He shut up soon after, because he was readying himself for the big musical number. Simba couldn't wait to be king, and Dave was going to sing it out like he was a Broadway star. There was no stopping him tonight.





John couldn't hide the fact that he was amused and a bit impressed with Dave's knowledge of Disney movies. It showed him a bit of what kind of kid he'd been, he supposed.

John was kind of jealous... Get anything with Nic Cage and he would know everything about it, but Disney was another thing entirely.

Another few chords for a song started after Simba and Nala—"The Love interest, right?"—decided to go and check out an elephant graveyard but were stopped by Zazu. And of course, Dave was preparing to sing. John stifled another laugh, seeing Dave practically bouncing where he sat, ready to belt it out. There was an aura of anticipation around him that you could practically cut with a knife.




Dave turned dramatically with the first lines, holding John's face in his hands. "IIIIII'm GONNA be a mighty king! So enemies beware!"

This was the most fun he had had in a long time, even more fun than playing Grand Theft Auto with the van so long ago. He sang the whole song, dancing included, and purposely tried to mess up John's process of cutting his own hair a few times. He might have also scared Jaspers out of the room, but he didn't mind.

When the song was finished he plopped down across John's lap exhausted, grinning up at him. "Looking good, hot stuff."




John grinned down at Dave, annoyance for messing up a bit of his hair cut gone away by not and changed into laughter. He decided to work on his hair later; it wasn't safe for either of them for him to keep going if Dave was going to dance around unexpectedly. And there was no way he was stopping Dave from having his fun.

"Thanks, Dave, not lookin’ too shabby yourself. Smiling fits you, matches your eyes," he said, giggling and leaning down to plant a small kiss on Dave's lips. It wouldn't be long before their attentions were both back on the screen though; Simba and Nala had gotten away from Zazu and were entering the elephant grave yard.

"Don't go in there, god, Simba! Don't be stupid, your dad told you not to, why didn't you listen to him—" he stopped mid shout, realizing that he couldn't really talk when it came to that and sobered immediately. He was probably empathizing with this movie a little too much.

John found himself letting out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding when Mufasa came to save the cubs from hyenas, and an even bigger one when they all got away safely.

He winced though when Mufasa was lecturing Simba, growling 'You deliberately disobeyed me!' Dad had done that a couple times. He knew it was only because he cared, but still, it brought on a surge of empathy. John clasped his arm around Dave's, squeezing it tightly as a channel for his negative energy.




Dave was happy to see John getting into the movie, even if some of the parts might have had a reflection on his own past. He ushered John with him up onto the bed, sitting back against the pillows and headboard. It was all so soft and warm, and he pulled John in against his side, settling back comfortably.

It was more of a heart whelming scene now, and Dave rested his cheek on John's head, arm around his shoulders. His fingers made little designs in John's shoulder as the movie continued to play. Jaspers stopped being a turd later and curled up on the bottom of the bed.

Then there was of course the stampede scene. Dave decided not to act like a dumbbutt at this part. Intenseness deserved silence.




John had seen it coming before it happened; Mufasa had had to save Simba, and in turn (because of scar or course) he had died. Mufasa had died protecting his son.

He tried not to cry, burying his face in Dave's shoulder as he restrained hiccups and sobs that so desperately tried to be ripped from his throat. His eyes stung as the dust cleared somewhat and Simba was trying to find his dad.

"Dad?" he heard Simba saying and made a choked sound in his throat. "Dad, come on... you gotta get up...!" Simba's voice was wavering just the tiniest bit. He knew already. He knew what had happened but wouldn't believe it yet, trying to wake up his dad just like he did in the morning. "Dad...we gotta go home..."

John looked up at the screen, no longer able to hide, let alone repress his tears as he hugged Dave more tightly. Simba was calling for help. It was too late, the little lion cub knew it, but that wouldn't stop him. Eventually he crawled under his dad's paw and nuzzled up.

John lost it completely at that moment, shaking with loud sobs. He imagined Dave must have been able to empathize with this too; they'd both lost so much, quite like Simba had... but at least he'd seen this movie before! He had seen this coming since the very beginning, known that Mufasa would die...

John buried his face in the blanket before him, trying to quell his tears as Scar stepped back onto the screen, telling Simba that this mess was his entire fault.

John found himself wanting to hurt a cartoon lion more than he'd ever wanted to hurt anything else in a split second.




Dave felt stupid. He should have remembered this. Should have watched fucking Beauty and the Beast. He held John tightly while he cried, massaging his fingers in the other's hair and giving his forehead little kisses. He decided to say nothing. It was John's own pain along with movie emotions. He would be all right.

Then the sobs broke out. Dave shushed him, his hand rubbing comfortingly at John's arm and then wrapping around his waist while Dave left kisses against the back of John's neck and his bare shoulder. "It's okay..." The rest of the movie would make up for the sadness. But that didn't excuse the pain it could cause right now.

At least there was the comic relief of Timon and Pumba. He pulled John back into him, hand massaging one of his shoulders. Hakuna Matata could cheer anyone up.




Simba was running away now, going out into the desert and getting as far away as possible from the 'accident' that had been 'his fault' and John felt himself calming down, if only a bit.

His sobbing stopped, reduced to sniffles as a meerkat and warthog came on screen and saved Simba from buzzards.

"This movie is pretty dark for little kids..." John said, sniffling still but letting out a small laugh. It was just a movie, he had to remind himself. His heart hurt, but in a way, he supposed, that made it better. He could connect with the characters.

Never once in his life had he thought he would think that he connected well with a cartoon lion. He never thought he was gay before he met Dave either, but, hey! Here they were.




"Movies need to be dark sometimes for kids. Teaches them about the real world." Dave's eyes were falling closed. As much as he loved the movie, that shower had really been nice, and the pain his arm was making him drowsy again.

He settled down farther in the blankets so that his head laid on John's arm. He yawned, unsure if he was going to make it to the lovely ending of the movie or not. Before a good musical number started, and before he passed out, Dave mumbled a tired, "John... was Rose actually peaceful...? Or... Shit, I shoulda done it... I didn't even face her... fuck..."




John's attention was snapped from the movie so quickly he nearly got whiplash, and he toyed with the covers in front of him.

"Yeah... she was. Trust me. I told her that you were here... that we were here to put her out of her misery, and she looked… grateful. She closed her eyes, and I shot. She didn't feel a thing, and if she did, I'm sure it was loads better than what she'd been living with..." his voice was calm, only a slight tremor to it.

"I don't think she would have wanted you to kill her, Dave... I didn't know her, but I'm pretty sure she would have wanted her last memory of you to be something happy... not the barrel of a gun to her forehead. Even if it was peaceful, even gracious in her circumstances… that can't be a good image." John reached up, running his hand through Dave's hair again. That was becoming a nervous habit.




John's words put him at peace again, and he pressed half of his face into John's arm, letting out a deep sigh. The hand in his hair felt nice, and the blankets were warm, and he felt so clean. Everyone else was in a better place.

This was not a night for sadness either. He was going to have the most amazing sleep that night. His pained arm only became a dull throb as he breathed softly in and out. He passed out into an early sleep somewhere around Hakuna Matata.




John tried staying awake, he wanted to see the rest of the movie, see that Scar got what was coming to him.

But Dave's soft breathing and arm wrapped around him were quickly lulling him into sleep. John felt his eyes slipping shut just as Nala had found Simba and was trying to take him back to Pride Rock.

John felt Jaspers crawling up onto him, and for a moment he wondered if he was going to scratch him, but instead the cat simply curled up in a ball on the covers where his and Dave's legs were intertwined.

He smiled, mumbling something about confusing cats before he was out like a light, the light from the movie screen dancing over his and Dave's features as they slept, undisturbed for the rest of the night.