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DaveJohn request fic for LYK (Homestuck, m/m)


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A/N: So this one is for LeapYearKisses~ Basically it's a no SBURB/post-SBURB AU where Dave and John are in a long distance relationship. Dave comes to visit John in Washington state during the winter. I'm no expert on either of these guys, so apologies if it's a bit OOC. And I'm sorry it took me so long, but I hope you like it! Also I suck at editing. I hope there aren't any grammar/spelling screwups but if I have to read this one more time I will punch myself in the face.


> Be John

You are now John, although you’re fairly certain you never stopped being John in the first place. As far as you’re concerned, you've always been John. But enough philosophy, a little context is in order.

You are currently roaming one of the many trails of Deception Pass State Park. Breathtaking views, picturesque woods, fun for the whole family… at least, that’s what the brochure said. You have to agree. Despite the chilly air, slushy post-snow ground and gloomy clouds, you couldn't be happier. One gloved hand has taken up residence in your pocket, while the other is joined to that of your boyfriend.

Deception Pass had seemed like a kickass location for a romantic stroll, but you’re starting to get the feeling it wasn’t the best choice for a winter’s day. Beside you, Dave Strider shivers and tucks his chin deeper into the scarf he’s wearing – one of yours, since the Texan isn’t exactly a hoarder of warm clothes. In fact, you’re fairly sure he’s never seen real snow before either. However, Dave doesn’t seem all that impressed. He stares straight ahead, his hand in yours the only real reminder that he’s still there.

“Dave?” you say carefully, trying to read his pale face – paler than usual, you note with a bit of worry. “Are you okay?”

He seems to remember that you’re there at the sound of your voice, his head snapping up suddenly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m cool. Cooler than cool. One might even say I’m –”

“Dave,” you cut him off. “I think we should go somewhere warm. You’re shaking.”

Your boyfriend scoffs weakly. “I am not.” He follows the blatant lie with a sniffle and brings the cuff of his sleeve up to wipe his nose. You notice then just how pink his nose and cheeks are – probably from the cold air. Yes sir, going indoors sounds like a good idea.

“Maybe we should head home. It’s getting dark.” Sure enough, the winter sun has almost been swallowed by the horizon. You yourself are starting to feel the chill, even with your many layers.

“Naw, it’s okay,” he asserts, waving off your idea. “It’s k-kinda nice out.” He can’t quite stop his teeth from chattering, and clenches his jaw once he’s done talking.

Of course, you see right through him. Still, over the last two years of dating Dave Strider you’ve learnt to let him maintain his pride. Most of the time, anyway. “Well, how about we go get some coffee or something? I know a place.”

At the suggestion, Dave brightens just slightly. Apparently you’ve reached a good compromise – you’re not going home yet, and there’s the promise of warmth and caffeine.

You silently congratulate yourself on the walk back to the parking lot. Strider wrangling is easy, at least for an expert like you.


To your ever-growing surprise, Dave falls asleep on the car ride into town. His face is pressed against the window, his breath painting a misty stain on the glass. You realise after a few minutes of silence that he’s snoring – something you’ve never heard him do before. It’s not very loud, just a faint congested rumble. You know it’s probably nothing, and you remind yourself that the two of you had a pretty late night yesterday. You push aside your worry as you find a parking space, and then reach out to give his shoulder a shake.

“Hey, wake up,” you say gently. He lets out a small groan before sitting up and stretching his neck with an unpleasant crack. You smile at the sight of his sleep-rumpled hair and crooked glasses that reveal one tired scarlet eye. Dave looks even more disgruntled than before, giving you a look that says ‘don’t ever wake me up again’. “Wh-where are… uhh… hhk'tkshuh!” The sneeze seems to catch him off-guard, and he barely has time to turn away from you. He takes in a shuddering breath, bringing a hand to his face to catch the next explosion.Uhh'tchsh! Heh… hht'chxiuh!” He sniffles wetly, rubbing his damp palm against the leg of his jeans.

“Bless you. Shit, that sounds bad.” You don’t remember the last time you heard Dave sneeze. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever seen the guy sick. You catch just about every cold that comes your way, but Dave has always seemed, well, invincible. As you watch him scrub at his nose with his sleeve you start to think maybe that isn’t the case.

“You’re not getting sick, are you?” You don’t need to see his eyes to know they’ve rolled skyward.

“I’m fine. It was just a couple sneezes.” You’re not convinced, but your suggestion of going home is soon waved away by Dave, who declares a sudden hankering for Starbucks. Knowing that there’s no getting between your boyfriend and a caffeine hit, you follow him out of the car and into the store.


Any attempt Dave was making at hiding his discomfort is rendered null and void once you’re sitting in the steamy coffee shop. In the light of the store you can see the pallor of his face, the redness of his nose, the dark bags under his eyes. His trembling hands are wrapped around his drink – the ever-pretentious gingerbread latte. He occasionally removes one hand to wipe his nose.

“You’re sick,” you tell him, your tone not inviting a rebuttal. He doesn’t give one, instead offering a weak shrug as he takes a slug of his drink. “It’s okay,” you press on, a note of teasing creeping into your voice as you watch his expression sour. “You know… if you’re getting the sniffles.”

The word makes him scowl, and you smirk triumphantly. “I can handle it,” he grumbles. “‘M not a little kid, you don’t have to baby me.”

You’re about to retort when you hear his breath start to hitch. His face takes on a vaguely humorous slack-jawed look as he sucks in a sharp breath and covers his mouth again. “Hkkshiew! Hhut'chshx! H-huhh… HktxCHUH!!” He removes his hand and sniffs hard, but not hard enough to stop the trickle of clear mucus sliding down the divot of his upper lip.

You cringe and start digging around in the pocket of your jeans, fishing out a slightly crumpled handkerchief. “Here, use this.” In order to preserve what’s left of his ego, you hand it to him under the table. He mutters a barely audible thanks, a slight flush colouring his pale cheeks as he accepts it. Sensing his embarrassment, you feign interest in something out the window while he blows his nose. When he stuffs the snotty cloth into his pocket and you deem it fit to turn back, he finally agrees that going home is a good call. You both down the final dregs of your coffee and head out. His hand finds yours again and you give it a comforting squeeze. “We’ll just get you a big dose of NyQuil, you’ll be fine in the morning.” For once Dave doesn’t complain.

Strider wrangling: it’s super simple stuff.


“I found it!” you say brightly as you enter the bedroom with a bottle of NyQuil and a glass of water. “Open wide for some…” you trail off when your eyes find Dave. Your sickly boyfriend is asleep again, stretched out on top of the bedspread. With a soft sigh, you place the bottle and glass on the nightstand and perch on the edge of your bed, silently reaching out to smooth his hair. He makes a noise somewhere between a whimper and a groan before his eyes flutter open, shades long since abandoned.

“Hey,” you say softly. “I’ll let you sleep soon. Can you take some medicine first?”

He nods and sits up, leaning heavily against the headboard as he downs the syrup and a few mouthfuls of the water. His nose starts to run again afterwards and he reaches for your handkerchief again, giving his nose a rough wipe against the dampening fabric.

“I’ll go hunt down some tissues. That thing’s probably getting kinda gross by now.”

“No,” Dave says, just a little defensively. He looks down at the bedspread. “I kinda like it. It’s soft.” You can tell he’s super embarrassed about all of this, but you find it sort cute. “Well, then at least let me get you some clean ones.” You cross the room to your dresser, finding a few folded handkerchiefs in varying shades of white and blue. You set the small stack on the nightstand with the other goodies before settling on the bed again.

Dave seems to have exhausted the last of his energy and lets you help him change into pyjamas without protest. You tuck him in and he barely stays awake long enough for you to kiss his forehead and bid him goodnight. Deciding you’d have no chance of falling asleep yet, you kill the lights and slip out.

As you close the bedroom door and head to the living room, you can’t help but feel dang proud of yourself. Dave won’t be sick for long on your watch, you’re sure of it. Yup, you know how to handle him.

You’re sure Rose would be proud.

> Be the other guy

You are now the other guy. A bleary glance at the nearby digital clock’s glowing numbers tells you that it’s nearly three in the morning. You almost groan. Still, it could be worse. As much as you hate being woken up in the small hours of the morning, the feeling of John’s warm body beside you is immensely comforting and the pitter-patter of rain outside is quite pleasant, too.

Which, of all the rotten luck, is when you realize what’s woken you up.

An unbearable, scratchy tickle starts in your throat and you can’t quite stop the harsh coughs that rattle out of you. You bury your face into your pillow as you hack to keep it quiet. It wouldn’t be very cool of you to wake John. After letting him baby you, you think you can take care of yourself for a while. However, by the time you’ve caught your breath, that telltale prickling has begun in your nose again.

Oh hell no. You are not going to start sneezing your face off again, especially with your boyfriend sleeping soundly next to you. A trickle of watery discharge edges its way from your nose down to your upper lip, the effort of not sneezing getting to you. You reach under your pillow and pull out the borrowed handkerchief. It’s crumpled and still damp in places, but you’re not really thinking about that as you massage your nose through the fabric. It does little to alleviate the itch.

“Eh… heh…”

Oh god, you really need to. Deciding that it’s okay as long as you stay quiet, you curl up into a ball and bury your face in the cloth.


John murmurs something and bumps his cold feet against yours. You freeze, holding your breath, but he stays asleep. You don’t have much time to exhale before the urge is back.

“Hhh… nngh… eh-hh…” You hazard a soft blow into John’s handkerchief, but the vibrations just worsen the tickle and you can’t do anything but hold the pillow over your face and let the sneezes overcome you.

“Uhh...huhh...hhkshuh! Ehhtchsh! Heh… Nngh… Ahk-shuuh!


Fuck. John shifts around behind you, placing a gentle hand on your back as you snivel. “You okay?”

You scrub your nose clean and sigh. “Y-yeah. ‘M fine.”

“You don’t sound fine to me,” he counters, sitting up and flipping on the lamp. As the bright light collides with your eyes you grumble and try to hide under the comforter, but he stops you.

“Let me take a look at you.” He reaches up and cups your jaw in his hands. “Aw, baby. Your nose is so pink.” You’re not surprised. As it is, it’s taking all your strength to hold back the slew of hot, wet gunk that’s threatening to spill at any moment. To make matters worse, that godawful tickle is back.

“J-Jawn. Ah… godda sdnee-” you twist away to prevent spraying mucus all over your boyfriend.

“Haa-KCHUUH! Uh… Ah… HGK’shuuh!” the upside of having woken John up is you don’t have to sneeze quietly. The downside is that once again you have to endure his babying. While you’re incapacitated, he gently takes the crumpled hanky from your grip and dabs at your dripping nose.

“Aw, someone’s got a serious case of the sniffles.” Tell me something I don’t know, you might have said if you weren’t feeling so gross. He reaches over you and swipes a clean handkerchief from the stack on the bedside table – you recall that earlier he unironically called it the ‘sniffle stash’. He hands it over and you breathe a congested sigh of relief that he doesn’t intend on doing all the work. You raise the mercifully soft, dry cloth to your throbbing nose and blow, relishing in the feeling of emptying your sinuses.

John leans over you again and nabs the small glass bottle on the nightstand. You watch him from behind the handkerchief as he pours a dose of the hot pink syrup into the small plastic measuring cup. “Here, Dave,” he says with a smile, handing it over. “This should help with the coughing, anyway.” It occurs to you that you have pretty much the best boyfriend in the world. He manages to make ‘bless you’ sound like ‘you’re the most important person in the world to me’. Maybe if being sick didn’t make you such a jerk you’d tell him this. Instead, you down the syrup with a grimace and chase it down with a few gulps of water from the glass he offers you.

“Thanks, babe,” you murmur with a sniffle.

“Don’t mention it,” he says as he pushes his fingers through your hair and plants a kiss on your forehead. “Think you can get back to sleep?”

The cough syrup will take a little while to kick in, so you still feel like coughing and your nose is still dripping like the rain outdoors. You’re fairly sure you won’t be falling back to sleep any time soon. At the same time, doing anything other than lying in bed sounds exhausting and completely unpleasant. “I don’t thigk I can sleeb yet,” you say, hating how stuffy and gross you’re starting to sound. You start to feel more than a little guilty, realizing that you’re keeping John awake with your incessant sneezes and sniffles. “I thigk I’ll just go lie on the couch or sobething.”

You’ve almost dragged your lethargic self out of bed when a gentle hand on your arm stops you. “Hey, where do you think you’re going? Stay here where it’s warm.”

You grimace, but you’re too sick to really argue. You settle back against the pillows with an uncool sniffle, which soon turns into that tell-tale hitched breathing. He don’t have time to look for the handkerchief before your eyes are fluttering closed. You vaguely register a bundle of fabric being held over your nose as your nostrils quiver, desperately trying to force out a stuck sneeze. Finally, it comes. “Ah… ahhhgk’SHU! Hhut'chshx! Huhh… ahpT’CHUU!! Ugh…” Your eyes finally open again once the little fit is over, and you see John leaning over you. Sure enough he’s holding the handkerchief to your dripping nose, and you surprise yourself by not really being embarrassed. Even when he tells you to blow, you don’t put up much of a fight. After just a few seconds of whining, you give in and blow your nose with a wet gurgle. John carefully pulls the damp cloth away, pinching it under your nostrils to get the last drips of mucus.

“You’re gonna get sick, y’know,” you tell him. The two of you kiss and share a bed to begin with, but now he’s pretty much doomed to suffer a few days of his own sniffling. As you had already anticipated, John isn’t fazed. “It’s no big deal,” he says pleasantly, lying back down beside you. “Besides, if we’re both sick then we can still kiss.”

You scoff, although it comes out as more of a dry rasp. “Like you were deterred before.”

As if to prove you right, John rolls over and presses his lips to yours. Accepting that he’s definitely caught your germs by now, you kiss back tenderly, finally breaking away when you feel a yawn coming on. “Think I’m ready for bed,” you murmur, pulling the blankets up to your chin. John wriggles down next to you and plants another warm kiss on your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, snifflebear.”

“Don’t ever call me that again.”

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OMG This is amazing! I am brimming over with joy. The whole time I was reading this, I had a really dumb smile on my face and I was *INTERNALLY SCREAMING* really intensely! I love how you wrote them both, especially how you wrote Dave reacting to his cold. And his sneezes. Ugh. It would really embarrass me to tell you in detail how awesome they were, but suffice to say I love them! John's handkerchiefs were also super adorable! Thank you so, so much for writing this! YOU ARE AMAZING.

You have to let me gift you something back! I really want to! What would you like? :D

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*Sobs because of praise* Thank you for the glowing review omg <3 I'm so glad you like it! It was extremely enjoyable to write, I think I could get used to writing these two. Especially if there's copious amounts of mucus involved.

You really don't have to write me anything because I know we're all hella busy people. But I guess if I had to pick something I'd have to go with a little DirkJake. *Shies away into OTP corner.*

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Thank you so much! Gah, maybe I should put a little description of the boys? idk. But thank you!!

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DirkJake it is! Thank you again! I have a feeling I'll be rereading it frequently. XD

EDIT: I can't PM you, so let me know your sneezy preferences on tumblr or something, because I don't want to accidentally write something you hate!

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I need to hurry up and get validated heheh. Um, as for my preferences my tastes are pretty dang eclectic. I like illness and allergies so yeah. I sort of enjoy copious amounts of mucus because I'm friggin gross like that... uh... I have a vulnerability fetish the size of Rhode Island so... like people who don't get sick often getting freaked out, or getting emotional because they feel ew. I'm not too particular about who is sick/allergic, so I guess just do whatever feels right? I know it'll be hella <3

@Akahana, thank you friend :33

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Homestuck is my new problem child/fandom/best friend, and johnDave is my replacement Johnlock cause that's over but this was perfect





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Oh holy macaroni yes, I would love to! And please don't feel any rush, no pressure. I mean it takes me forever to finish request fics heheh.

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Awesomesauce. We shall definitely have to discuss this further when I've completed the fic and have free time, which hey, means I have EXTRA motivation! :D

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Don't forget you guys, my problem child Homestuck is also my main fandom now so um don't hesitate to PM me for roleplay too.

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Dang, I'd love to RP with all of you. For some reason it won't let me PM anyone, though. So, my skype is mage-of-tacos if you wanna reach me that way :)

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  • 3 years later...

Omg! I absolutely adore this! I love this ship and both of these characters, so this was so stunning! I hope you continue! Maybe with John being sick?

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