8. ,,Kiss me, stupid''
Even sillier goofier davesport oneshots book
This was (somewhat of) a request !! As seen below
(no I don't know how to downsize the image it's just ganna be in ya'lls faces)
No smut bcs I'm not mentally unstable enough for that anymore (Yay! Progress!)
Sidenote: I mixed up the dsaf 1 and 2 layout a little here- Just roll with it and don't ask. Also it's winter-ish. Idk the timeline here I just wanted them to be a little silly billy:3
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The crowd of screeching toddlers had significantly thinned out, and as a result the two secondary colored men had shed their springlock suits. They'd convinced their boss the children would entertain themselves with the trashpile for the time being, and with an agitated ring he'd let them off the hook for a fifteen minute break. Now smoking a cigarette out the back of the restaurant, Dave kicked rocks from under the canopy. It'd been getting colder lately, their breath instantly condensating in the air and their hands buried in the sleeves of their jackets. No snow had fallen yet, but Jack presumed that it couldn't go much longer without.
"Old sport, what d'ya say we cause some mayhem? This place is borin' as shit in the winter!"
Dave concluded, flicking ash from his cigarette as he turned his head towards Jack. Admittedly, he was right; the joint was quite unamusing whenever they weren't busying themselves with excessive amounts of toddler slaughtering. Although that may have been courtesy of a minimum wage dayjob, it was unusual in regards to Dave's thrill seeking nature. Jack gave it a thought, contemplating whether or not he wanted to be chased by his phone-headed boss today. Taking a drag of his cigarette, he briefly relished in the relieving feeling brought to him by the nicotine.
"You got anything in mind, aubergine?"
He pressed the butt of his sweet cancer stick to the brick wall, watching Dave's grin widen. Clearly, he had already garnered an idea prior to the occurrence of their brief conversation.
"I say we raid the prize corner, get the goods! You distract that creepy fuckin' virgin, old sport, I'll ensure the treasure~"
"Oh c'mon, why do I hav'ta be stuck with Matt?"
Jack protested playfully, without much genuine care in regards to his role in this scheme. With an expression changed to a rather serious one in comparison; Dave leaned forward and held his hands out before Jack, almost as if they were being watched. With a complimentary low voice, he spoke:
"He creeps me out old sport- Something 'bout that smile..."
He couldn't suppress his laughter at Dave's earnest tone of voice, giving his shoulder a light shove. It was miraculous how easily Dave, someone with possibly over a hundred deaths to his name, was freaked out by a virgin who sold illegal fireworks to children for a living. Despite the ridiculousness, Jack agreed to the procedure and patiently waited for the other to finish his cigarette. Upon departure back inside, they parted ways near immediately. While Dave hid out of sight somewhere, Jack approached Matt with a compatible smile.
"Matty, my boy!"
"Oh. Hello, orange man."
What an enthusiastic monotone response, Jack briefly thought to himself as he leaned against the glass counter that displayed an arrangement of prizes. Tapping his foot, he patiently awaited for his boss to disappear out of sight. A hand on Matt's shoulder made him jump, that persistent smile nearly faltering for a flash. He raised an eyebrow at Jack, who began to converse about how he was in high demand for Matt's help with a broken arcade machine. With the necessary amount of suspicion, he followed and Jack had successfully emptied the prize corner of any witnesses.
"Yup, this is definitely the one-"
He reassured as a hesitant question emerged. Matt's head was propped into one of the many broken machines in their arcade, absolutely and utterly lost in the mess of wires. From across the dining area, he could see Dave stumble over the counter, falling into the actual corner with an audible thud and screech. He began to stuff his pockets with a variety of objects, several of which likely classified as illegal goods, in a hurry. At some point a kid ran by, pointing and screaming towards the purple man at a loud volume. He worried that it would alert Matt, but the tang came to an immediate end as Dave shoved the biggest plushie that occupied the prize corner in its hands. He chuckled and smiled to himself as he watched the child run off; no wonder kids took a liking towards Dave despite his terrifying appearance.
"I don't see anything wrong in h-"
While he was dreamily staring at Dave robbing the prize corner, Jack had failed to notice Matt raising his head out from the machinery. Despite his grin, a clear expression of distress displayed itself on his face. He turned his head towards Jack, very obviously aware of him being in on this from the laugh he was continuously suppressing:
"Traitor."
He spoke in that same monotone voice, before bolting towards his usual place of occupation. Jack yelled for Dave to scurry from across the dining area, a few exhausted parents shooting him a look. Dropping whatever he held in his hands, Dave clumsily stumbled out from the counter. He ran towards the saferoom before Matt managed to make his way to the prize corner, where he stood with his legs far apart, as if to guide his base. Jack, a tad enerved by the agitated smile on the virgin's face, quickly followed behind Dave, picking up some of the cigarette packs he had dropped along the way.
Just as he was about to shut the door to the saferoom, he peered over his shoulder and watched Matt approach with a rapid pace. Yelping, he closed the door and beconned for Dave to help push against it. Wordlessly, in their universal language of panic, he did as instructed and stood besides Jack. To their mutual surprise, Matt never attempted to reopen it, or even so much as touched the doorknob. Instead, they could hear the rattling of metal and a lock clicking into place, before footsteps slowly vanished. Near immediately, Dave tried to pull on it, to no avail as the door gave no more than a few centimeters where light poked through. Chains rattled on the other end, and he pried his fingers through the narrow crack it allowed.
"Fuck old sport, he padlocked us in 'ere!"
"Are you serious?!"
Jack yelled in disbelief, roughly pulling on the door the moment Dave had retreated his hand. A metal chain pulled tight, clanking together as it easily withheld the applied force. Angrily, but with no real hope of breaking free, he kicked against the heavy door. He supposed he ought to have known that Freddy's had a variety of padlocks in possession, considering they only recently used one to lock up that spindly-legged puppet in its music box.
"He can't just do that!"
He exclaimed, watching Dave in misfaith as if he expected more of an extreme reaction from him. Instead, he seemed rather mediated as he emptied the contents of his pockets on the cold floor. It consisted primarily of cigarettes -considering they were most expensive- along with illegal fireworks, liquorice, several slices of cold pizza, and a fucking taser. Remind me again, why exactly did a children's franchise sell tasers...? As he looked at the pile of loot, which all miraculously fit in Dave's jeans, he became thoughtful of what exactly wasn't allowed.
"Phoney'll bust us out eventually, fucker's like a hawk when it comes to his employees... Til' then, we got plenty of time to entertain ourselves old sport!"
Seemingly enthusiastic, Dave sunk against the wall with a slice of pepperoni pizza in his hand. He didn't seem to mind the situation in the same quantity Jack did, easily accepting of his unchangeable fate as if it was self-evident. Instead of breaking out in a fuzz over the limitations, he began picking at a firecracker as he chewed on the rubbery pizza. With a sigh and sulking shoulders, he let himself fall to the floor beside Dave. What was he to do aside from have the fun that presented itself, if he couldn't bring any more possible change to his circumstances.
The floor and walls were freezing, the cold easily seeping through his clothing in order to bring goosebumps to his skin. Freddy's was too much of a cheapskate to have invested in a heating or a cooling system outside of the main dining areas, and when temperatures would jet the saferoom was the first to abide by them. Dave wasn't bothered, continuing to pick and pry at the firecrackers to create the equivalent of a smoke bomb. It was astounding what he could do with some stolen trash, Jack thought to himself as he mindlessly chewed on a piece of salty liquorice. Maybe sharing his inescapable situation with someone as entertaining as Dave wasn't so bad, he considered. At the very least, he would have someone who would understand the misery that would ensue; alas, they'd been trapped by the same individual.
"It's freezing in here, man-"
Jack grumbled, rubbing his hands over his arms in an attempt to create friction that would warm him. Dave tightened a knot between two wicks before setting his forsaken creation aside, flinging an arm over Jack's shoulder without so much of a contemplation. At any other time he would've jolted and stepped away, but with the temperature slowly creeping into the very fundament of his body, he wordlessly leaned against Dave's side. In a place where only the freezing cold presented itself, the acquainted warmth of another person was a boulder that floated amidst an endless sea. If he breathed a deep sigh, he could see the warmth of his breath condensate before him.
"Damn right it is old sport, I doubt they'll get aircon-"
His breath hitched, words catching in the back of his throat, as Jack sprawled an arm across his chest towards his shoulder. Afraid to move; he awaited the other's initiation, who lay his head against his collarbone with a sigh. He offered heat, comfort, in a plight where just that seemed near entirely absent. As Jack settled into place, he gently lowered his arm to lay on Jack's back, trailing circles with his thumb. Although -in its fundament- it was Jack's discomfort that drove him halfway up Dave's chest; he savored the moment with gratitude regardless. Maybe he hadn't consciously intended for the arm around his shoulders to be an invitation, but he wouldn't want otherwise.
"What're you making?"
Asked Jack, barely able to see the abomination from where he leaned against Dave. The man seemed confused for a brief second, before acknowledging him with a soft hum and picking up the mangled mess. With a prideful expression, he held it before Jack's eyes with his free hand, as if that would make it any more comprehensible.
"An explosive, old sport! I'll use the tasers mechanism as an ignition, so that it'll go off upon impact. And then we can throw it into the prize corner, once we get out'a here!"
The look on Jack's face was mortified, impressed, but utterly mortified. Admittedly, in moments like these, Dave managed to terrify him more than he wished to admit. The man was a damned genius at that, and had his ways when it came to getting revenge. He noticed Jack's expression, and reassured with a slick look on his voice:
"Don't worry, it just consists of alot'a smoke! All bark no bite old sport, just puttin' a scare into that virgin! I just hav'ta-"
He scanned the remaining junk sprawled out on the floor in front of him, computing the next step in his supposed masterplan. Jack watched as he made an attempt to dissect the taser with one hand, the other persistently trailing delayed circles on his back. Quickly coming to realize he was causing a hindrance, Jack spoke up just as he wanted to shift place:
"Do you want me to move-?"
Dave muttered a soft agreement, but rather than letting Jack return to his original spot beside him, he pulled him further into his lap. Surprised, though unprotesting, he allowed himself to be seated in between Dave's legs, his back pressed against the other's chest providing him with the heat he so desperately desired to begin with. Jack let it happen, because if anything, Dave's cordial warmth offered comfort that he wouldn't find elsewhere within these restrictive walls.
"Here, hold this for me old sport-"
He said, handing Jack the abomination that consisted of an ungodly amount of firecrackers. Reaching his hands around the other, he began to pry open the taser in front of him. With his horrendously contorted neck, he was easily able to peer over Jack's shoulder and watch his own actions. Despite the explosive he held in hand, he easily relaxed against the aubergine; content, despite the situation they initially found themselves in.
It was a resemblance, a miniature of their very being. In a place that radiated a freezing discomfort, they'd found each other and clung together. Perhaps it was simply because Dave was a boulder of warmth, or perhaps there was an underlying emotion that he ought to address sooner or later. They were locked in by the same person, forever trapped by fate with only the other to truly relate. To find love in mutual despair was simultaneously one of the worst things that could happen to a person, yet one of the most beautiful flowers that was able to grow amidst a battlefield. As he sat there while Dave tinkered, the emotion became so overwhelming that he wasn't sure whether he wanted to bawl his eyes out or make the equivalent of a confession towards Dave. Who they were within the world would never change, but they could suffer through it in each other's company.
"Okay, keep that real still now-"
He dragged out the word real to emphasize the gravity of his statement, laying one hand over Jack's to guide him into the desired direction. With a concentrated expression -that is to say, the tip of his tongue being squeezed through his lips with narrowed eyes- Dave lay his chin on Jack's shoulder, carefully attaching a piece of metal to the invention. He could feel his tensed and heavy breath trickle along the nape of his neck, making the hairs on his arms stand upright. In comparison to the rest of his body; Dave's hand was cold, even to him. His fingers stretched longer than Jack's, pressing a wire into a firecracker's wick with his pointer while he continued to prod in the hot mess.
Absent-mindedly, Jack's thoughts began to ponder on things that were probably unfit to occupy someone holding a borderline explosive in hands. Could he, if initiated correctly, hold his hands in between his own and return the same warmth Dave had provided. The difference in temperature had made him droopy, a lopsided smile on his face as he asked himself what it'd be like to hold that hand; intertwine fingers and stay that way. When presented with someone so similar in situation yet so comfortably different from yourself, it was difficult to prevent yourself from wondering. What would it be, to have those grubby nails of his delicately run along his skin? To have them hold him, to rock his body onto those fingers, to-
The thought was filthy. Upon realizing this, Jack was immediately brought out of his daze. No matter how deceptive the similarities between their current situation were; they weren't the same. Dave contributed to destroying his family, he had been a cause for his current state. And yet, he couldn't resist that mischievous grin when it offered him a diabolical opportunity. He couldn't bring himself to hate Dave, whenever he tried it only made his appreciation for the man increase.
Appreciation. That was certainly a description to assign his feelings. Those slender purple hands, raking his body; searching his skin, touching, feeling, experiencing. It was inherently wrong, but the idea of it simply seemed so right. Orange against purple, pressed into silk sheets that held them in confinement, together; safe from all that would come to haunt them. What a thought it was. Now, the question became what exactly he was to do with it.
To the contrary, Dave had not a notion that didn't regard his invention. He enjoyed tinkering a whole damn lot, and could fully submerge himself in working with his hands. Those same hands that had Jack into an obsessive spiral of thought. Pressing a mechanism that initially belonged to the taser into the hot mess of fireworks and metal; he finished up the creation. Putting it beside him, he released his grasp over Jack's hand, much to his disappointment.
"That'll teach him a lesson fer' lockin' us up, amIrite old sport?"
Dave held his hands in the air, replicating an explosion with a comedic sound that vaguely resembled a bang. Rather than turning around and looking over, Jack stayed seated and took one of his hands amidst the gesture. He could not find a plausible explanation as to why the man's hands were so persistently cold, intertwining his fingers with Dave's. Almost automatically, without any real thought, he brought it to his face. The flesh of his cheek was warm in comparison where it met the back of his hand, gently trailing it along his cheekbone.
"Sportsy-?"
Dave breathed, his voice giddy and soft but with a lace of nervosity. Jack nearly dropped the hand still intertwined with his, turning his head and deadpanning Dave directly in the eye. Something about those soulless eyes made his expression incredibly hard to read, but the vaguely reddened tint across his cheeks made for somewhat of an indication.
"Are your hands always freezing?"
The tone of his question did not resemble the affectionate manner in which he brought Dave's hand to his chest, letting rest atop his heart. With Jack still resting against his chest, between his legs, they couldn't look each other in the eye. This might have been for the better, considering the both felt an undeniable heat rise up to their faces.
"I couldn't tell ya! Prett'ay sure I lost sensation in them a while ago-"
He mumbled, not entirely certain in his statement. Truth was; any and all touch he had been able to feel had decreased over the years. Something about being an undead corpse, he supposed. It prevented him from feeling the majority of pain, convenient when it came to springlock accidents, but not ideal when he wouldn't notice his clothing being on fire whenever working in the kitchen.
"That's- Unsettling."
Jack concluded, now also reaching for Dave's remaining hand. He allowed for it to be raised in front of them, watching as Jack pressed his palm to it. His pinkie was missing a little less than an inch of its fingertip, noted the tangerine, presuming it to be a workplace incident. That being said; it was still longer than Jack's finger. Dave's hands were massive in comparison, easily stretching beyond his own. He was certain that, if he wished to, he could take both of his wrist in one of them. Bruised knuckles, little insignificant scars, holding him down. The cold would be sensational against his flushed skin, he thought to himself as he cupped Dave's hand in his own. Conjoining the both of them against his chest, he blew hot puffs of air into their cradled hands.
"Old sport, you don't hav'ta-"
Jack raised one of his hands, running his thumb over it before pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. Blushing furiously; Dave squeezed his hands in return.
"I want to."
And that, amidst all the lies and fake names, was truthful. He did, and denying that would be of no use. With Dave's constant and outright flirtatious comments as of late; he had no fear to return the volition in such a way. To say he wouldn't be surprised if Dave reciprocated his feelings would be an understatement; he'd expected him to, by this point. Before Jack could redirect his hand to its designated spot against his chest, Dave retracted it from his grasp. It came to lay under his chin, gently insinuating for them to face each other.
Dave could feel Jack's heart begin to beat faster under the hand that still rested against his chest. His breath was warm, shaky, where it clashed against his lips. Right there, staring into each other's void eyes, they forgot all about the cold room they were inescapably locked into. When together, it all seemed just a little less horrid. Maybe it really was just a distraction, and escape from an unchangeable fate, but it was plausible that way.
"Go ahead-"
Breathed Jack, and with that, the distance between them became equal to zero. Dave was gentle, more so than he expected, his lips warm. The hand that held his chin shifted to his jaw, and Jack lay one of his own on the man's neck. He wanted to be closer, the point of contact between them was so comfortably warm that he could only want more. He wished to drown in the taste of Dave's lips, to stay within this embrace forever, to forget about anything but the lips that so delicately kissed him.
He titled his, allowing his mouth to fall open against Dave, who answered with a whimper. It was a precious point of contact where he trailed his tongue along Jack's lower lips; where his hand ran along the man's side, pulling their bodies flush together. Saliva, the taste of closeness, so beautifully conveyed between their tongues carefully surveying each other. Dave's hand on his waist, fingers clasped in his shirt with desperation.
Jack was the first to distance himself, a gasp for breath with his mouth remaining agape. The look Dave gave him was so full of love that it both terrified and enticed him, a bead of saliva persisting between them. How could something that was so fundamentally wrong feel so right?
"Sportsy- You alright?"
He must have assumed Jack's silence for hesitation, because his voice was gentle and caring.
"Kiss me- Kiss me stupid, until my lips are bruised, until I-"
He wasn't given further of an opportunity to speak as Dave reconnected them, much less delicately this time. To seek within each other for such feeble comfort, confirmation of the existence of love, so delicately constructed in a heated kiss. Raising to his knees, he further sunk against Dave, nails running along his scalp. Gently sucking his lower lip, he did exactly as promised; kissed him until his lips went numb. They connected, sloppy, but rooted in passion, a mutual desire for affection, for love.
It was tragic, really, to fall in love this way. To find someone equally as miserable as yourself, just when you'd thought you were alone. It then became hard to distinguish the congeniality from love, blurred lines constantly morphing with every thought and word. And yet, with Dave's tongue trailing his palate, with his heaving chest; he concluded this had to be more. He desired this, everytime Dave teased him by holding a cigarette just out of his reach, everytime he snuck a glance towards his chapped lips. This was more than mutual misery, this was-
"Employees..."
The phone's ring was utterly horrified. Somehow, through sloppy noises, they had failed to hear the chains being removed from the door. Jack was first to react, hurriedly sitting himself down besides Dave. A decent amount of orange foundation still stuck to the other's face, attempting to deny their previous activities would be like searching for a needle in a pile of hay, except there was no actual needle, and the stack was so big that even a blind person could see it.
"Matt locked us in!"
Dave exclaimed, wiping a trail of spit from his chin with the back of his hand. Despite having no eyes, Jack could see a tear dwell in his boss' eyes. Subtly enough, Jack hid Dave's makeshift bomb behind his back. His taste persisted, remnant in his mouth, lingering on his tongue. God, he wanted to taste him again, hold his hand, feel his body against-
"Your shifts ended half an hour ago. Get out."
And, on that note, he slammed the door shut on them. The two looked at each other, Jack raising the abomination up between them with a mischievous grin. Because if there was one thing he enjoyed more than vigorously making out with his co-worker, it would be terrorizing Matt.
Dave had not lied. His creation went off upon impact, shooting one phenomenal flame into the prize corner before bursting out in an immersive cloud of smoke. It hadn't been enough to set anything seriously aflame, but sufficed in alarming the remaining employees. As they ran out the door, they could hear both Matt and Ronaldo screeching, occasionally interrupted by their boss trying to make due amidst the panic. They lit one last cigarette together, courtesy of their earlier obtained loot, before addressing the different directions they were headed.
"Guess I'll see ya tomorrow, old sport?"
"Yeah- Yeah. I guess I'll see you then."
Because no matter how similar they were in their miserably irreversible situation: they weren't identical, and both had their separate ways to take upon departure. Jack to his house, and Dave to wherever it was he would spend the night; alone again, even if the other's company was all they really desired.
(Get it get it it's all one big metaphor for them both being fucked by Henry and Freddy's but they're both miserable so it's like a sense of comfort but the good ending but but but they're so in loveeee (I am losing sanity))
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[4374 words]
I CAN'T WRITING KISSING LIKE I USED TO ANYMORE EURGHHHH
The ending is a bit rushed but I have a swimming exam in less than two hours and my Cambridge (advanced level English) exam tomorrow so I had to squeeze in the practice (wish me luck pls !!)
Requests are (still) greatly appreciated <3