"Hey There Delilah" got stuck in my head... All that hopefully needs to be said about that. And I also wanted to hopefully write out the funk I'm in, and, well, FLUFFFFFF!

Also, a shoutout to flameleaf, who, if it wasn't for her, I would probably still be sitting here trying to write things that should NEVER BE WRITTEN. EVER. NO. Thank her that I got this out of my head texting her instead of something involving Bro and smuppets. BE SO VERY FREAKIN' THANKFUL. -cries forever-

Disclaimer: Andrew Hussie, the mega awesome super-troll genius, owns Homestuck and whatever label Plain White T's signed to owns "Hey There Delilah", and the Plain White T's souls. That's what record deals do- they steal your souls.

What You Do To Me

He played with the stray string hanging from his jacket sleeve, eyes on the floor and bottom lip worried between his teeth, feeling the small metal brackets from his braces and the heated glare from his best friend. "You're going where?"

"New York City," John said, quietly. "I've got a scholarship for video game design, and they say some of the best colleges and universities are in New York…"

His best friend gave a heavy sigh, leaning against the lockers with his shoulder, eyes still calculating the fragile black haired boy. "When are you leaving?"

"After high school… I'll be here a few months after graduation, and then my dad's gonna help me pack and we're going to drive to New York and get me settled in…" His blue eyes looked up from behind his frames. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner… I didn't want you to be mad at me…"

The shades-wearing blonde scoffed, leaning his back completely against the metal and shook his head. "I'm not mad at you, John."

"Then why won't you look at me?"

Blue met shades and John sniffled a little, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and trying not to completely break down. "You're my best friend, Dave… I don't want to leave…" He whimpered out, swallowing and feeling that burn at the back of his throat, tears running down his face. "I promise I'll visit when I can. After I get a job and I'm out for the summer, I'll get a plane and visit. I'll call, text, pester you over pesterChum…"

"You don't have to cry… I'm not really that worth the tears… And look, just because you're leaving to go to some college in New York doesn't mean we still can't be best bros, okay?" Dave told him, smirking a little bit. "I'll be sure to answer those calls, those texts, those pesterChum messages. And I'll even try to visit sometime. New York can't be all that bad."

John smiled at Dave, and then looked at his phone. "I have to get going. Dad's outside waiting on me." He turned to walk away, but stopped, before turning back to the shaded blonde he called his very best friend. With one final gaze at him, leaning against the lockers like he owned the school, he turned back and continued onward, leaving his best friend standing there like he'd never see him again.

(Two Years Later)

The door opened and he tossed the keys onto the kitchen counter, putting a hand over his stomach to quiet the growling before beginning the tedious task of removing his winter coat and scarf, still brushing snow off himself. Hanging each article on their separate hook, he flipped the lights on and made his way to the fridge, fishing out something to eat. His day had definetly been a bit of a rushed mess- the café he worked at was absolutely packed today because of the blizzard outside, and they nearly ran out of hot chocolate mix and coffee. School was, thankfully, shut down because of the icy weather, so he didn't have to worry about any work due until the snowstorm passed over. John Egbert collapsed on the couch as his food heated in the microwave. Sometimes he wondered if staying back in Texas was the better decision, what with the lackluster amount of food he had considering his job sucked ass and he didn't want to bother his dad for money after he paid for his apartment. He even wondered if this was really worth it- there were plenty of schools in Texas he could have gone to- and then his thoughts would travel to high school and how much he missed it, and the one person he missed the most more than Dad and Jade.

His phone started ringing, the cheerful little tune his friend had picked out for him, and he picked it up, knowing who'd it be, and not bothering to look at the caller ID. "Hey."

"Yo. How's New York city's weather?"

John smiled at the comment- just like Dave to call to ask him about the weather. "Cold and blizzard-y. It's been snowing all week without stop. I'm pretty sure anymore and it'll get to my window on the third floor."

"Yeah, I heard about that blizzard. It hasn't snowed down here yet. It's like fucking bullshit," Dave cursed, the sound of the phone moving around and rustling following soon after.

"What are you doing, bro?"

"Oh, nothin'. I learned how to play guitar a while back and I'm just trying to see if I can't play and talk to you at the same time," he answered, chuckling.

John snorted, smiling. "That's kinda cheesy, you know. I don't think that you're at that level of irony."

"Oh, no, I climbed up that ladder since you've left, bro. Two years and I've gained five levels of irony, all thanks to college and work. I'm at the same level of guitar playing while talking on the phone," Dave's voice portrayed a smirk. "It's fucking awesome, like you don't even know. Even Bro nods in my direction when he sees me."

A nod to was the equivalence to winning the lottery for a Strider, from what John knew. So if Bro was nodding in Dave's direction, it had to be a huge thing. "Two years ago all he did was kick your ass and shove smuppets in your face. Glad to see you two are getting along a little better." He heard the strumming in the background, obvious that Dave was playing guitar and talking on the phone. Impressive.

"Oh, no, he still kicks my ass, don't get me wrong. There's just some mutual respect going around now."

John couldn't hold in his laughter and he chuckled, looking at the kitchen when the microwave dinged. "Oh. My dinner's done. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Alright. Later, bro."

"Later."

John got up and went to retrieve dinner, worrying his lower lip between his teeth, two years later and still wearing braces. He missed Dave more than he could admit, and maybe even after all this time, he finally realized maybe he felt feelings toward Dave that were more than just friends. It was too weird saying he was falling for Dave, and saying he was already in love with him was way too weird. John sighed, took a bite out of his spaghetti and let his thoughts wander. This was way too difficult.

The snowstorm passed after a few days of non-stop blizzard, New York City going back to it's normal routine that was barely interrupted. Dave hadn't called since the other day, something that made John wonder what he did wrong. Dave said, two years ago that he'd be sure to answer those calls and texts and pesterChum messages, but he hadn't done any of that in two days. As much as he wanted to worry about his best friend, he had work and school he needed to worry about before anything else. It was pushed to the back of his mind.

But after nearly a week and nothing, John honestly couldn't focus on anything else. He dropped a tray of coffee on his way to the kitchen at work, he almost walked out into the street during rush hour, and even managed to get every answer on a quiz wrong. His head wasn't in the right place at the moment, and the only one he figured could put it back was Dave.

And Dave was nowhere to be found.

John sulked down the street, scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and hands stuffed into his pockets, trying not to pout if he could- twenty year olds don't pout. But what else could he do? His best friend of nearly seven years wasn't talking to him and he couldn't do anything about it as far as he knew. With on sorrowful sigh that vaporized as a puff of air, he gave up. If Dave wanted to talk to him, he'd call.

He rounded the corner to the street his apartment was on, and heard a low strumming from down the way, a gentle acoustic guitar sound. Curious, he kept walking, past his apartments and right to a crowd of people gathered around a teen about his age playing a guitar. He had his face tilted down, a hat over his head and his fingers strumming the strings of his guitar. Then, he opened his mouth and starting singing.

"Hey there Delilah, what's it like in New York City? I'm a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight you look so pretty, yes you do. Times Square can't shine as bright as you, I swear it's true."

John smiled. That was such a sweet song- he wondered if this guy was here to find his girlfriend.

"Hey there Delilah, don't you worry about the distance. I'm right there if you get lonely, give this song another listen, close your eyes. Listen to my voice, it's my disguise, I'm by your side."

The singer looked up, and John gasped a little. Those shades…

"Oh, it's what you do to me… Oh it's what you do to me… Oh, it's what you do to me… Oh, it's what you do to me… What you do to me…"

John's eyes widened. Suddenly, that voice sounded so familiar…

"Hey there Delilah, I know times are getting hard, but just believe me girl, someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar. We'll have it good. We'll have the life we knew we would, my word is good."

The crowd started to thin out, and John was left in the open, right in view of the guitar played. His heart started thumping in his chest.

"Hey there Delilah, I've got so much left to say. If every simple song I wrote to you would take your breath away, I'd write it all. Even more in love with me you'd fall, we'd have it all."

He looked up, meeting John's eyes, and then there was that signature smirk. That Strider smirk he recognized so well.

"Oh, it's what you to do me… Oh, it's what you do to me… Oh, it's what you do to me… Oh, it's what you do to me… What you do to me…"

The crowd's eyes looked at John, but John was too busy blinking to hold back the tears. This couldn't be Dave, could it?

"A thousand miles seems pretty far, but they've got planes and trains and cars. I'd walk to you if I had no other way. Our friends would all make fun of us and we'll just laugh along because we know that none of them have felt this way."

John could imagine Jade laughing at this sight- Dave playing guitar on a New York City corner in the middle of winter, mushy and sappy, because what kind of a cool kid breaks down and serenades a derp like John in public?

Obviously this cool kid.

"Delilah, I can promise you, that by the time we get through, the world will never ever be the same, and you're to blame…"

A smile that wasn't anything less than derpy crossed John's face, the tears finally rolling down his face, and for once he didn't care if those braces were showing or if his freckles were noticeable- Dave was serenading him.

"Hey there Delilah, you be good and don't you miss me- two more years and you'll be done with school and I'll be making history like I do. You'll know it's all because of you… We can do whatever we want to…"

The singer stood, still strumming and smirking at John. The black haired teen could have sworn his heart jumped.

"Hey there Delilah, here's to you… This one's for you…"

He stopped the strumming and the crowd clapped, finally leaving and going about their way, as John just gaped with the biggest smile on his face. "Dave?"

"Hey there Egbert," Dave said, smirking and swinging his guitar around to rest on his back. "I didn't expect New York to be so cold, you know. You could have at least told me the temperature was below freezing."

John laughed, busying himself by wiping away the tears, unable to really look at Dave. "Oh gosh. Sorry. That was… That was sweet, you know…"

"I picked up a guitar and taught myself the day you left after graduation. I really wanted to tell you before you left, but… I didn't get a chance. I thought this was ironic enough, though."

The black haired teen smiled, and then threw his arms around Dave's middle, careful to not hit the guitar. "I missed you."

Dave returned the embrace, and low in John's ear said, "I missed you, too, Egbert. Tell Bro and I'll kill you."

John laughed again, right before Dave's mouth met his, and he squeaked before relaxing into his touch. Two years and this is what he gets… Maybe waiting is worth it sometimes.