"Holy crap", the guy says, sprawled on Dave’s bed with arms akimbo. Dave swallows a smirk, and pushes his hand off so he can lay down beside him, side by side. No contact though, they’re both too warm and sweaty.
The guy must not have gotten the memo because his hand flops right back down against Dave’s ribs in the next second, knuckles first.
He turns his head on Dave’s pillows to stare at him through the dim of the bedroom. His bangs are glued to his forehead. He is still oddly hot, something feral lurking behind the dork.
Dave hums an interrogative.
"That was. Wow."
The guy’s a talker. That or he’s still nervous. It’s fucking adorable. Argh. Why is he still adorable, they’ve banged already.
"Experiment successful?"
"Hell yes." A flicker of hesitation. "Uh. I mean--"
"You’re aware bisexual people exist, right? You’re lying right next to one as we speak, and your magnificent dong hasn’t made me forsake boobies yet. Please don’t have a crisis of sexuality in my bed."
The guy pouts at him for a second, and then relaxes into a smile full of ‘I like you’. "You say ‘yet’, does that mean the next round might--"
Dave never gets to find out what the next round might have done, because at this point his window opens, and they’re kind of on the seventh floor.
And there is no fire escape there.
Also it was locked but at this point who cares.
"Augh!" the blond guy yells as he sits up in a leap and yanks all the sheets to him to hug in a ball to his chest.
The older dude crouching on Dave's windowsill has gray hair in an emo cut and an eyepatch. Dave sits up casually, a pillow across his lap, and a hand on the sword he’s got hidden between the head of the mattress and the board.
“What the hell are you doing here, teach, you asshole!”
"I take it you guys know each other," Dave says as a second and third person slide from the wall onto the windowsill. One of them is a chick with hair dyed Barbie pink and another a seriously pretty dude with, no, okay, this is emo hair. Pink chick is cringing and averting her eyes.
"Less in-depth than he knows you, I assure you," the grey-haired dude says.
“Teach!" the girl and the blond chorus.
"Oh my god, that’s, no, why did you say that, why did you even says that, what the hell are you doing here I didn’t tell you to stalk me what if we were bu -- bus -- auuugh!"
Dave takes his hand off his pillow to pat the dude’s manly shoulder offhandedly.
"You didn’t come home, Naruto,” the chick growls. Pretty boy is glaring at the both of them indiscriminately. Dave stretches out and picks up his shades. Ain’t no hiding his chest tattoo or his scars and be smooth, but they haven’t done a thing to deserve seeing his eyes, so.
'Naruto' sounds pretty Asian a name for a blond dude. Then again he does have vaguely Asian eyes, though the blue-and-blond thing really messes with Dave's perception of the shape.
"Your girlfriend’s hot," he says casually, and watches the two of them explode in angry, flustery denials.
"She’s not my girlfriend!" Naruto yells at him at point blank range, a hand gripping his shoulder like he’s afraid Dave will leave without believing him first.
"No? Pity, I was thinking threesome."
Prettyboy’s eye twitches meanly. Dave arches a suave eyebrow his way and regrets that he doesn’t smoke, it’d be the perfect time to light one up.
"Foursome?"
"Since the idiot is fine, I’m going back," Prettyboy growls to the older dude, and jumps from the window.
From the lack of alarm, Dave concludes he shouldn’t be expecting a splat.
This is getting hella fascinating.
"Sasuke has the right of it, I believe! We’ll be leaving the two of you alone now. Remember, Naruto, next time you have a booty call please call us first.”
He pulls the protesting girl off the window and drops into the night. The window stays open, swinging faintly in the nice, cool breeze.
Dave turns to look at Naruto. “So...”
"Um." The guy has the awkward look of someone expecting a long drawn-out conversation about things he doesn’t know how to explain.
Like the scars made by things like claws, and the way he can match Dave’s speed on the dance floor without even seeming to notice he shouldn’t, and the way his friends seem to think they’re Spiderman. The baby fangs and the tattoo, maybe, even, they ping Dave weird.
"Play any weirdass games recently?"
Welp. From the way Naruto blinks at him, it looks like the awkward explanations will have to be two-sided.