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“Why are ya walkin’ funny?”
Dave freezes with his arm up in the air and the cabinet door halfway open. He thought he had been hiding it well. But it’s just like ‘Mama Bear’ Bro to notice.
“Ah, sprained my ankle a bit in a strife with Dirk. No biggie. Just walking it off like a little yappy dog that’s been cooped up all day in a house by the street where he can see everyone but can’t say hi so he’s peeing on the carpets instead because that’ll show them how much he loves him.”
“Ya better not pee on my carpets. C’mon over here and lemme have a look.”
“It’s cool. It’s nearly better already. I don’t need you mother henning over it. You might just peck at my toes thinking that they are worms.” Dave finishes getting a bag of chips from the cabinet and pops them open, leaning back against the counter with his weight on his good foot. It’s still sore from where Dirk had smacked the crap out of it on his sword a couple days ago. The linear bruise across the ankle bone would give it away. Plus Dave’s being avoiding getting within Bro’s arm reach because that’s when clothes tend to disappear and that cut on his chest hasn’t fully healed yet.
“Now why do I get a bad feelin’ that you’re bein’ cagey with me.”
“Why would you say that?”
“‘Cause I can see those horns holdin’ up your halo, brat.”
“Seriously, just a bit of a bruise and some twinging. It’ll be right as rain in the morning, clean slate, all that dust graffiti washed away and down the drain.”
“If ya say so,” Bro waves off much to Dave’s surprise. Dave doesn’t look back as he walks stiffly back to his room without further incident or comment.
Bro pulls out his phone as soon as Dave’s door is closed.
TT: Somethin’s up with little you.
TG: really what
TT: Don’t know. Somethin bout a strife with Dirk.
TT: Ankle is bothering him but won’t let Doc Bro take a look at it.
TG: didnt know you were into doctor nurse rp bro
TT: I’ma interrogate the eviler twin when he comes home.
TT: Maybe ya can help when ya get home tonight.
TG: ... actually that sounds like fun
TG: if by interrogate you mean fuck pile on the couch
TG: with movies
TG: and ice cream
TG: mmmmmmm ice cream
TG: rocky road drizzled with chocolate syrup until it floats and then topped with the entire can of whipped cream and the entire jar of cherries and yes bro you can have my cherry ;)
TG: and omg dont forget the sprinkles
TG: fucking love sprinkles
TG: motherfucking rainbow sprinkles all over this shit
TT: D. Have ya eaten today? You’re doin the food thing.
TG: uhhhh
TT: Go fuckin eat and then get your ass back here for movie night.
Bro doesn’t get the chance to figure out Dave’s thing before Dirk and D crash through the door together with heavy plastic bags laden with Thai food and ice cream with all of the sundae toppings. The bright noise and banter between the brothers draws Dave out of of his room. Bro watches as he skirts around Bro’s reach to stay on the far side of Dirk and D. Like that would help him in the end.
“So what do we have on the docket to watch while we gorge ourselves?”
“I’m thinking superhero binge night.”
“Marvel or DC?”
“Let’s go with Marvel. Maybe the X-men bunch. Even the bad spin offs.”
They manage to arrange themselves across the futon with only a couple elbowings to the ribs where everyone can hold their food, watch the screen, and lean on the nearest Strider. The guardians get the middle of the couch with Dirk next to Bro and Dave flanking D.
The food doesn’t make it through the introduction and as soon as the styrofoam containers are removed, there is a bit more shuffling to get into prime snuggle pile position. It’s halfway through the movie when D remembers the bit about a fuck pile. And ice cream, but ice cream can come afterwards he supposes.
He starts nosing the top of Dave’s head and running his fingers up and down Dave’s side enjoying the shivers and slight squirms that he gets. At one point Dave goes to shift himself, leveraging up off his foot tucked against the coffee table but winces when he puts a little bit of pressure on it. D frowns at that and helps Dave shift farther up against him so he doesn’t have to use his bum foot. The new position causes D’s hand to skate across the front of Dave’s chest and he feels something slick under the shirt’s fabric. Confused but intrigued, D runs his thumb over the spot again, this time pressing a little harder and getting a hit of pain.
“Da-”
“Oh shit, I just remembered!” Dave leaps up from D’s lap. “Needed to text Jade something and damn my phones in the other room, isn’t it? I’ll be right back. Don’t stop the movie for me.” He would sprint to his room if it weren’t for the limp.
Bro and D exchange glances, Bro eyebrows explaining that his was the weird behavior he was talking about earlier and D’s eyebrows agreeing with his assessment and offering to go check it out himself which Bro’s eyebrows believe would be a good idea.
“I’ll go see what’s up with Dave,” Dirk offers, getting up from the couch with a little more subtly than his brother but Bro just reaches out and wraps an arm around him to drag him back down to the couch.
“Nice try, mini me. I have a feelin’ ya know what’s goin’ on and you’re gonna tell me.”
“What? Nothing’s going on. Why do you think something is going on?”
“Mostly because of that.”
“I’ll go check on Dave,” D declares as he unfolds himself from the futon. He gets to the twins door just as he hears, “Now tell me ‘bout the strife,” and a surprised squeak from Dirk. D rolls his eyes and opens the twins’ door without knocking.
It isn’t the weirdest thing D’s ever walked in on, (the orgy on the futon that first time actually only ranks second,) but Dave with his shirt hiked up under his armpits picking at a series of bandages across and down his chest still isn’t a great sight to walk in on. He sees a little bit of blood on the loose bandages on the desk. Whatever the injury was from, apparently it started bleeding again from the roughhousing on the couch.
“Bro said you were being weird and it had to do with a strife.” Dave’s face snaps up at the sound and his eyes go wide. “And holy shit, that’s a great deer in the headlights look. No wonder Bro always goes on about it. Makes me want to get your camera out so I can share this wonder with you. Though you’ve probably already seen it on Dirk’s face and that’s close enough for government work. Anyways. Blood. Injury. Strife. What the fuck. You wouldn’t normally be so hesitant if this were a normal accidental from a strife. I still remember how proud you were of your first hundred scars. So what are you trying to hide?”
“It was just a strife and well I kinda tripped on... on air like you’ve seen before. Gotta watch out for those ghost chairs. It’s the benches that get you the worst though and I think this was a full out table or something. But it was hella embarrassing to twist my ankle like that and then Dirk couldn’t stop the sword because who the fuck knows where those fucking ghosts knocked mine to and it was honestly just me being a klutz and I asked him not to tell you guys because it’s healing up all on its own you know?” The rambling sob story plus the big round eyes pleading D to believe him almost worked. If D hadn’t seen this combination before at ages five, seven, ten, eleven, twelve, etc two fold on twin faces.
“Oh so that’s the same story Dirk is telling Bro right now?” D pauses long enough to let the strained sounds from the other room float through the open door. Dave’s mouth flops open as he tries to come up with another track. “Because I know you guys have a freaky twin thing but I doubt you can both bullshit this up on the fly.”
D watches Dave practically collapse on himself and he looks so damn pitiful that D steps in to help him with replacing his bandages. This close he can actually see some concealer makeup under one eye. He wonders how Bro missed that detail.
“D... I don’t,” Dave’s voice is small, “I don’t want you guys to be upset with him.” He nervously runs a finger over one of the new bandages. “It worked out and he didn’t mean it to go like that. He was already so upset with himself, he’s been beating himself up and I’m fine.” D raises an eyebrow up at him as he rips off another old bandage. “Or I will be. It’s not a big deal. Just a flesh wound.”
“You didn’t trip.” D doesn’t make it a question.
Dave shakes his head, “He... he got my ankle. Nothing broken. Just bruised the bone a bit. Hurts like a bitch if I don’t watch what I am doing. Who knew that I used that ankle that much for shit other than walking. You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.”
“Ouch. But the slash on the chest-”
“Legit shot. I screwed up even without the foot thing. I don’t know if I want it to scar or not. Need to ask Jade if she likes scars. Because if she does, then this will be one sexy scar.”
“Okay, Soul. But it ended the fight right?”
“Yes!” Dave says emphatically. D is glad of the taste of sincerity at the declaration. He’s still pissed that it took two serious injuries to end the the strife. Plus whatever happened with the black eye.
“What was the fight about?”
“Uh... well...” Dave fidgets and D can almost read the boy’s thoughts. He doesn’t want to rat out his brother but he doesn’t want to lie to D. Well anymore than he has.
“YOU WHAT?” Bro roars from the other room.
“Shit,” Dave curses under their breath.
“Come on.” D grabs Dave as Dave attempts to grab his shirt to cover up his injury. “Nope, Bro needs to see.”
“No, D, please, I’m okay. I’m fine now. Please.”
“He’s going to find out one way or another. Better to get it all out now. I’ll make sure Bro doesn’t take his head off.” Dave is still fretting and fearful, but he can’t get out of D’s grip without hurting his ankle further. D wraps his arm around Dave’s waist and helps him hobble back into the other room.
Bro’s eyes immediately go to the white on Dave’s chest.
“You nearly gutted your brother because you got angry over Jake?” Bro growls out. The two standing Striders can’t see Dirk but from Bro’s arm, he appears to be pinned against the futon. “That’s not an accident. That was a fucking kill blow. You nearly killed your brother because you were angry over a spat with your boyfriend.” Bro’s voice is cold. “You are a fucking idiot.”
“Bro? I’m okay. He didn-”
“Does not matter what he meant. He still did it.”
D walks forward and puts a hand on Bro’s shoulder gently pulling him back off of Dirk. As soon as the younger is free he’s scooting back to the edge of the futon. He curls up into a tight ball, wrapping his arms around his knees and keeping his head tucked down.
“Stand down, Bro. Dave’s okay. They’re both okay.” He can feel Bro trembling under his hand. “You don’t actually want to murder one of them. That defeats the purpose of being so angry about them being hurt.”
Bro takes a deep breath. “You are grounded. No electronics for a month.”
Dirk nods but D cuts in with, “A week. Bro, he’s already beat himself up for what happened.”
“A week then. No computer. No games. No television. No phone. If you need to call someone you come to me. Otherwise Dave will call for you if you happen to be out of the apartment. No Hal either. He can hang with Roxy for the week. I want you bored enough to run laps on the stairs.”
“Yes sir.”
“Bro? What about my punishment?” Dave steps forward.
“Why would I punish you? You ain’t the dumb shit that has anger issues.”
“But he tried to hide the fact,” D offers, understanding of Dave’s position. He wants to be punished in solidarity with his brother. But their offenses aren’t the same. “You’ll be subjected by thorough examination of your injuries and extensive cuddles with Bro while watching a season of MLP with him.
“What? But that’s not-”
“Come sit your ass down, kid. If ya try to get up for the next three days, I’m sewin’ ya to the futon by your favorite shirt and jeans,” Bro growls out, his accent drifting back as his anger wanes.
D helps Dave around the futon to where Bro can grab him and tuck him into his lap. His hand immediately pull off the sock of his wounded foot. His scowl returns at the sight of the straight line of bruise across the delicate skin.
“Ya want some real punishment, Davey?” His voice is playful enough that D doesn’t even need to see the inappropriate eyebrow waggle before smacking him on the back of the head. “Hey, I wasn’t goin’ there.”
“Sure you weren’t. And my eyes are blue like the hot summer day where all of the clouds have fucked off for cooler temperatures because eggs are frying on the sidewalks and rubber soles are melting straight off your fee-”
“I was gonna say that Dave’s not allowed to strife for a week. No running or using the stairs -elevator of doom for ya only, kiddo- and no rough sex ‘til your fully healed. And if ya fuckin’ break any of these rules, I’ll fucking hot glue crutches under your armpits.”
“No sex? That’s cruel and unusual punishment, Bro. The worst sentence ever. I’m going to expire before the week is out because the only D I can get is snuggles with the tall skinny nerd-”
“Hey!”
“Only the softest and most lubed up of fuckin’ for ya, Davey.”
“Oh gods, sedate sex. I’ll be like a nun, the horrors of my life,” he pulls an agonized face. “Not missionary position anything but that.” His grimace is ruined by a small smile when he hears a soft chuckle from the far end of the couch as his twin laughs at him.
Bro just pokes at Dave’s ankle getting a hiss of pain. “Dirk, go get the pansy an ice bag for the ankle.”
“And some more arnica for the black eye,” D offers as Dirk gets to his feet.
“Black eye?” Bro’s tone is flat again as he grabs Dave’s face and turns it towards him. His thumb brushes against the top of Dave’s cheek. “He ain’t got a black eye.”
“Other side, Bro. Jesus, no wonder they get away with everything in this household. Fucking each other for two years without you noticing must have been a serene walk in the queen’s garden complete with lacy gloves to hold their parasols over their heads as they frolicked and made out with each other.”
While D rambles, Bro brushes at the other cheek, smearing away some of the concealer and revealing the greenish healing skin underneath.
“Hey! It took ages to put all that on,” Dave complains as he tries to pull away from Bro.
“Yeah, yeah, ya primadonna. Christ, you’re a fuckin’ mess.”
“Excuse you, I’m fabulous,” Dave pouts. “Unless it means I get ice cream.”
“You’re eighteen. Why is ice cream still the end all be all in bribery?”
“Bro, you are thirty-f-
“THIRTY!”
“-and it still works on you too,” D interjects.
“Whatever. Yeah, ya can get ice cream. Ya only get it if ya sit still.” Dirk comes back with the arnica, the extra bandages for Dave’s chest, and a bag of ice wrapped in a dish towel and Bro goes to work on fixing Dave up as he does his best not to squirm. D and Dirk retreat to the kitchen to make four bowls of heaping ice cream with all of the toppings that each Strider likes.
Dirk tries to limit how much he puts into his bowl, slipping the extra scoop into Dave’s bowl instead but when he turns back, he catches D adding another scoop anyways.
“The electronics and self flagellation are enough. Ice cream deprivation goes too far,” D whispers quietly to him, ignoring the lip quiver Dirk gives as he thinks about it.
Dirk serves Bro and Dave theirs as D carries his and Dirk’s. Dirk frets a moment at the edge of the futon, unsure if he should rejoin them, especially with the movie still paused in the background. But then D bumps into him, moving him towards the open spot next to Dave.
“We’re finishing move night because I say so. Punishment begins in the morning.”
Dirk lets out a sigh and agrees, tucking himself up next to Dave as D fills in the spot on the other side. D passes him his ice cream bowl and then restarts the movie.
“I’m sorry,” Dirk whispers softly to Dave under the cover of the noises of an explosion on the screen.
“I know. I forgave you already, dork, stop fretting.”
“Sor-”
“Say it again and I’ll dump your ice cream in your lap.”
“Okay.” Dirk shuts up and snuggle down between his brothers.