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[This almost has all the charm of being in a natural museum, staring on at artifacts of the distant past, like a civilization that's been long gone, and holy shit, are cowboys cavemen in that analogy? From their current perspective, this was all, what... 500? 600 years ago?]

What, what?

[The place actually looked a lot more like Destinyland than a hootin' nanny type of square dance hall, so he's not even really sold on the whole thing. Ryuji loves roller coasters though, and as much as theme parks were typical hot spots for dates, there's nothing like the thrill of being dropped from a really high place and spun around upside down a few times. His friends didn't really agree with that so much. Or, at least, their stomachs didn't.]

Man. I never learned how to drive. Sure, like, Joker was in charge of the catbus and everything, but I was just sittin' shotgun the entire time.

[What's wrong with cow pies????]

They sound effin' delicious. An entire pie made outta beef. That's like. The best of both worlds. Dessert and dinner all rolled up into--- [...] Dave, what the fuck is a cow pie?

[this is one of those moments where Dave's mostly impeccable ability to keep a straight face is a blessing.]

[because he genuinely had no idea Ryuji didn't know what a cow pie was, and this revelation has been delivered to him bundled up in extra layers of "what?" and "oh god, oops, ran into a language barrier" and "holy shit lmfao."]

Okay, hang on to the word catbus for a few more minutes, 'cause I've got questions.

But a cow pie is just shit. I didn't even think about that not — translating correctly? Is that what happened there. I think that's what happened.

[sorry ... the dinner Ryuji's thinking of is just a plain old meat pie. but hey, he knows where to get those, too.]

[Catbus.]

[Catbus. Okay, held. Maybe he'll try to draw a picture of the Mona bus one day for Dave.]

[Okay, so you date a hot American guy and some things are bound to come up a little wonky in the differences department from time to time. And sometimes you might think that eating cow shit is a delicacy without knowing it's actually made out of cow shit to begin with, so Ryuji's just standing there, staring at a picture of Houston and.]

FORREAL?

[He feels like he's a kid again, mistaking the difference between the creature that moos and the word delicious, and as he ducks out from under Dave's arm, he turns to him and proceeds to blow his lid.]

THAT'S SO GODDAMNED DISGUSTING.

[And immediately, he brings his hand up to his mouth, wincing. For the record, no, no he doesn't eat shit!!! Not that that was ever really brought into question, but he points down to his skateboard with a tablecloth drawn over it, not far from the towels spread out.]

Dude.

DUDE.

I made us a picnic and everything. It's got, like, 4 types of toast. D'you know how effin' long it took to try and tell a replicator about different types of bread!?

[in all fairness, Dave pretty much just texted it and blazed on ahead without offering any context clues on what the hell a cow pie actually is. he's suddenly struck with the urge to come clean about the hootin' nannies, too, as he turns his gaze to the picnic skatetable, and.]

[................]

That's. [that's really fucking sweet. it's more than Dave thinks he deserves, cow shit aside. but. surely the replicators wouldn't have ... actually...]

[....................]

[it seems Dave and Ryuji have found themselves in another shituation.]

[and he's kind of having a hard time reading it, to be honest. he's not quite sure if Ryuji is mad at the toast or at him. both would probably be fair?]

Wouldn't the machine have just made whatever you were figuring it was, and not an actual. [you know.]

An actual steaming turd pile wrapped up in a pie plate?

[It's okay, Ryuji will go right for it. Man, of course this would happen to him. Either way, he's effectively considering all the ways to send his skateboard out into space to join its brother out there in the hall of shame vis-a-vis bad food replicator mistakes.]

I dunno and I'm way too goddamned scared to even look.

[So... not everything is exactly perfect, which is pretty unrealistic to think that he could work the finer details out to allow it to be that way, but as he moves his hands upwards across his face, he rubs his eyes and drags downward again.

And starts laughing. At himself. Them. Cow pies, whatever.]

Guess we're gonna have to stick to... just desserts...

[Dave's sort of on the same wavelength, there, because he'll probably later suggest they give the cow pies the usual treatment. except this time it'll allegedly be ... literal shit ... going down the toilet.]

[this is, at least, completely in line with everything else they've done the past few months.]

It's cool, dude. I mean, I'm pretty sure you were giving me a rundown on a whole list of Japanese slang at the same time, and I didn't even throw you a bone on half the shit I was talking about.

Kinda makes me wonder about the other phrases out there that're like that. And I might be wondering about the desserts, too.

I think it's the sorta thing where you don't know until you hit 'em?

[Yeah, this is completely an extension of their uszh. There's a ton of stuff he could try to teach Dave about when it comes to his home, but nothing comes to mind so apparently strong that it strikes him in any direction.

And it gets him to thinking about how different culturally they really are? Ryuji's only really ever known other Japanese people, but standing in a hall filled with pictures of America, those sort of differences are a little more apparent than usual. Not that any of that actually mattered here, up in space, after all. It's not like either of them are shining beacons of the refinements of their respective home environments.]

Aight.

Can I ask my hot American boyfriend to teach me more about his slang, then? [Ryuji smiles, albeit a little sheepishly. Comes up pretty much every time he mentions the b word to begin with, but he's getting better at it for sure.]

Oh, yeah. Dessert. Man, I kinda wish I still had some twizzlers to share with ya, but. Spoiler alert, it's a cupcake. I tried to ask it to, like... draw a heart on it?

[Oh, boy. Biting down on his bottom lip, he shrugs, and bends down to the portable picnic basket he's got going on. Underneath the cloth is what looks like some sort of baked goods pie, but he sure as shit (...) ain't touching that, instead opting for a cupcake in a small container that has a flat, cylindrical displacement of icing.

He pops it open to show Dave, and lo and behold, it... sure is a cupcake. With an anatomically correct looking heart on top of it, scanned in some way like it was 3D printed on.]

...Yeah

Yeah, of course — only if I get to ask to the same of my Japanese boyfriend.

[and he's tinged very slightly pink when he goes ahead and responds in kind. it's for a lot of different reasons, but not being coy with the b word is probably the most blatant one. the instinct to obfuscate his intentions, the urge to hide what he's actually thinking, is always there, but the desire not to right now is overriding it. and it's a word he thinks Ryuji deserves to hear.]

[repeatedly, even. that was just a warmup pitch.]

[but then he's presented with a cupcake with a human heart printed right on it, not unlike one he probably had in a jar on his shelf at some point before he traded up for something even more questionable, and how was Dave Strider not on a government list somewhere?? and, well, he does seem pretty damn fascinated with the replicator's accuracy. Ryuji may or may not think he's struck out with how weirdly the cupcake turned out, but honestly, it's also just about the right level of weird for Dave.]

You ... really put a lot of thought into this, huh? [he doesn't mean it incredulously. if anything, it's surprise in his voice, swirled with the occasional pleased note. birthday dinners on a meteor or birthday gifts in the mail are one thing — having someone think of him enough to put together a space date among photographs of your hometown for no reasons he can surmise other than Ryuji was just thinking of him is ... well.]

[well, one of the other reasons why he's still flushing is probably pretty obvious now.]

[Generally speaking, there's a recipe for getting Ryuji to follow anyone around indefinitely or catch his heart in a box, and it's pretty simple. Something like, one part affection, one part of making him laugh, and one part assuring and validating him. Mix until combined and let sit until room temp. Caution: melts in hands really easily. Anyway, Dave just did all of that in one sweep, again, and he's left standing there, shoulders slumped, posture still abhorrently shitty, and he smiles. Can practically see three music notes jutting the hell right out of his head.

Because, really, the more it happens, the easier it is to just fall into it comfortably and wrap himself right up in it. The easier it is to stop being so hard on himself over the little things, too, like thinking he's going to come up just short of the mark.

Ryuji looks at the heart in his hands, and wow, okay, that's a wild fucking thing to have to think about, and then drives his vision up towards Dave.]

It was just a sentence or two, the replicator's the dumbass that---

[...]

Oh.

[If he's being honest about it, which is pretty much always, then... yeah. He thought about it a good deal; pretty much ever since he found the picture book to begin with. The other details just started filling as time went by, and he found himself building up to an actual date. And maybe Dave's thinking about something along the same lines, but Ryuji just goes right out and says it, unashamed of it as anything he's ever felt or said before.]

Yeah. I think about you, like. All the goddamn time.

[Ryuji'd probably earn himself a longwinded and weird as fuck pep talk that Dave's known for, if he tried to beat himself up over missing a mark, especially right now. he's kind of figuring the cow pies will be even funnier once the moment's passed, when they're done trying really hard to have a moment.]

[and honestly, if something didn't wind up a little, or completely, off tilt at some point during this date, then Dave would probably just as weirded out as the concept of poo pastries themselves will wind up eventually being. maybe when he was younger he was all about playing up how perfect he was at basically everything, using hubris like a buffing to his coolkid armor, but perfect is pretty much the last adjective anyone should use to describe him, or what he actually wants. and the two of them have had enough of those soul-searching sort of talks with each other that he'd most likely find himself having a hard time trying to put that particular wall back up around Ryuji.]

[so, completely weird and actually pretty damn vulgar, but 100% sincere all the same. doesn't get much Stridamoto than that.]

[anyway, Ryuji's not really doing much to help alleviate the flushing.]

I don't meant this in a like, self-centered douchebag of me kinda way, but it shows? I mean ... I know you'll stop me if I start really going off like a fucking moron here, but I've never had someone think of me enough to put together a picture book space date for me. And I'm just hoping I can figure out how I can properly convey, you know. Thanks.

[not entirely true. he's figuring there's at least one thing, but he's still building up the bravery for that.]

And, uh. I think about you a lot, too. Haven't been lucky enough to find any ramen bowls or music shops, though.

[Dave tilts his head slightly, in the direction of the towels.] You wanna sit?

[Oh man, there's a lot in there to unwind when Dave speaks, and a whole lot of things Ryuji wants to say to that in pieces and chunks, but stringing them together would feel like picking them apart. As much as they both are self-admittedly horrible at conveying how they feel, they both find their own groove to do it in front of each other quite a lot.

He's caught dead in his tracks.

Because, it's really fucking weird to be slightly tilt over that string of words. It's not just the boyfriend thing, or the affection, or the way he could pull out a compass and it'd probably point straight to Dave as far as Ryuji's concerned. Think of me enough is what sticks, and a thank you for that is just. It's not even needed. He knows Dave is trying weed through himself when he admits to admitting it's hard to figure out what he wants to say. In a way, that crushing feeling in his chest just grows. If no one's ever thought about him enough to want to do something for him... then that's just really fucking sad. Because he knows that:]

You deserve it. And you don't gotta thank me for anything, either. I wanted to do it... [Because that's how he feels about Dave - and those words are probably hidden in between the lines and the soft expression on his face.] Just, uh. Y'know. Seeing the look on your face is pretty good enough for me.

[Although he absolutely wouldn't turn down a ramen bowl or a trip to the record store. He's not going to let that image in his head go either- an overly optimistic thought that the two of them could one day see Tokyo together, as crazily impossible as that is at this point.]

Yeah.

[He leads the both of them to the towels he set out when first coming here to begin with.]

Wait, so are we like- is this supposed to be the park we're imagining? Swingsets and all that shit. Gotta set a good vibe, y'know? [Ryuji's joking here, but man, that good vibe is already right fucking there.]

[even if, realistically, seeing a hometown by way of photos taped to the windows is the closest they might get to actually visiting, it is kinda nice to keep the idea of tearing up Tokyo together somewhere in the realm of "maybe a possibility." like a little what if to think about when he can't sleep, or if the station's putting them through the wringer and he needs something good to focus on.]

[he wouldn't really blame his friends for how things turned out, though. you put the weight of universal construct on a bunch of barely teenagers a bit lacking in the tools to be emotionally supportive or upfront with each other, and they're bound to find ways to ... you know. struggle with the emotionally supportive and upfront with each other thing. hell, Rose had been several hours late to her own date, and she hadn't even told the other girl she intended it to be a date.]

[and, you don't know what you're missing from spontaneous acts like this one if you've never really had them — and now that he does know, Dave might be leaning toward selfishly eating this up a bit, despite himself. he even manages to bite back the urge to try to say thanks again — because if doing something like this for him makes Ryuji happy, then ... it's pretty much a win-win on all angles, isn't it?]

[so ... eating up the attention it is. he'll share the cupcake, though.]

Yeah, that's fine. [he goes ahead and flops down on one of the towels.]

I can tell you more about the park itself, if you want. I guess I better say more about the hootin' nannies, too.

[Ryuji's not that far behind Dave on the floppage as he settles down in the adjacent towel next to him. There have been so many times when he's sat down here on the observation deck, and although Ryuji isn't a very observational person, it's almost always that he's with someone. It's like standing at an overpass in Shibuya or meeting up with people at the top of the school roof. So many firsts have happened here. A sleepover during the first few weeks with Hajime and Ezra. Coming up here after the first time he's ever had alcohol. Waiting for a zombie virus to finish him off. And now, a first real date.

Pretty cool.

He reclines, flat on his back with both hands behind his head and one foot planted on the ground. The angle gives a good view of the park they're totally in right now, and as he sighs, he figures his misgivings about the hootin' nannies was another thing he probably... misunderstood.]

Awww man... [He teases a little, in that familiar sort of self-deprecating way.] You're like, throwing rocks at all my windows tonight, dude. [The tone of his voice betrays that he's awfully serious about it, but he does look over at Dave. Jerks his head a little bit to call him down here.]

Tell me about the park.

I mean, I'm not intending to cast doubt on the existence of grandmas that hoot like owls as a hobby or whatever. I don't got any right to give little old ladies shit for what they do for fun. That's like. Their own private nan business.

[and that's not what Ryuji asked you, Dave. but he takes the hint and settles down next to him, not quite close enough to use Ryuji's arm as a pillow, but he still doesn't leave a whole lot of distance between them.]

The park, though? It was quiet — not a lot of shade aside from that one line of oak trees, so there weren't a lot of people out there in the middle of the summer. I used to listen to music there a lot. Or just chill. There was a store right across the street, too, so I'd usually go get some apple juice or something if I had cash.

[he folds his hands across his front, swiping through his mental photo feed of those moments. as peaceful as that sounds, he's also never really been one for quiet.]

Don't really know how obvious it is from the photos, but summers can be pretty brutal there. Does it get really hot in Japan?

[If he thinks hard enough, he can almost recall Yoyogi in crystal clear image, albeit a bit blurred from the way that he never spent time just sitting still there when there was jogging to do. The hues of ginko trees in the autumn were always somehow stuck in his recollection of the place, more than the cherry blossoms that exploded into bright pinks during the death of winter.

But Dave's talking about trees, and that's where his mind is at.]

When I used to run back in Yoyogi, I'd always make sure to pass by these trees that had, like, the most goddamn beautiful gold leaves in fall. It was... it was something else, man. Maybe I was so into competing back then that the color reminded me of winning. I never really wanted to go back home after I saw 'em.

[There's a lightness to his voice when he says it, and talking about this is like the time when he was sitting with Dave, listening to music through split earbuds.

That's why you remix songs, right? Getting too attached to something that was supposed to be comforting and looking back at it, years later, to realize that those memories served a self-fulfilling role that had soured the experience. He wishes he could take Dave to see those trees. Top tier skrillex shuffle- breathe life into something he loved and give it a new context. Whether he knew it or not, Dave and him were constantly composing over the notes that had always been there for Ryuji, creating and destroying simultaneously.

And even though Dave had closed a lot of distance between them, Ryuji's thinking that it's not enough as he extends his hand from behind his head to flatten out, encroaching more of their shared space to invite him to go right ahead and use him as a pillow.]

Ohh... yeah. Kinda. There's a thing in Tokyo we call the rainy season. Tsuyu. [He stops for a second, wondering how Dave interpreted the sound of the word he just said. It has a translation, but the connotation isn't the same.] You, uh, you heard that right, right? Tsuyu... it means plum rain. 'Cause that's when plums are the most ripe. That ain't important, though, it's just. It's pretty hot, but the humidity's the worst. From June to July you're practically swimming in your own sweat. Your balls get permanently glued to your leg.

[He's... so eloquent...]

[there's something that's a little bit like wish fulfillment for him here, too — the sort of thoughts he had sitting against one of those big oak trees, catching a hint of a cool breeze in the unforgiving August sun. the ones where he thought about what he'd show his friends if they ever inexplicably wound up in Houston. the places he'd take them, the food they'd probably be interested in trying, if he'd saved up the money.]

[and maybe it doesn't get more inexplicable than lying on a towel on an observation deck, just existing among pictures of Houston instead of actually being there. he goes ahead and accepts that invitation, though, scooting closer and resting his head on Ryuji's arm, right up at his shoulder, leaving exactly zero space between the sides of their bodies.]

Yeah, I get you. Houston's called Texas' scrotum for a reason.

But, it doesn't really have anything like tsuyu. [Dave repeats the word back slowly, sounding it out like he did the occasional troll words back home. moirail. mwah rail... something like that.]

There wasn't like. The usual spread of seasons like the shit you'd see in the movies or anything. It was mostly just shooting fireballs out of your asshole hot, or shooting fireballs out of your asshole hot while raining, or slightly less hot during the last few months of the year.

[and there's something to be said about the connection between remixing and talking about his home, too. like looking at the memories he enjoyed the most, and arranging them so they were the melody, the pieces of him that he wanted Ryuji to hear the most. that's not to say that the things he liked less weren't there — and dissonance has its uses in music, too.]

I never really thought much about the oak trees, though, aside from all the goddamn acorns and the shade. I guess they changed colors, too, but it never was enough for me to notice.

[That's a lot of talk about scrotums and assholes and it's taking a lot for Ryuji to keep a straight face through it all. But he's practicing temperance and... y'know, maybe not being a middle schooler all the fucking time about things, and try as he might to keep those things at bay, he still cracks a smile.]

Y'know. I saw a map of the states in that book and I don't really recall Texas looking like a dude's dick. But that one all the way in the southeast? Total man meat, just like, chillin' out there for the world to see.

[Whelp, it was good while it lasted, all of three seconds. It's better off this way anyway, more authentic of the experience, and Ryuji finds his fingers curling around Dave's side in an inexplicably comfortable sort of way. And as the Japanese word comes tumbling out his mouth, Ryuji's heart swells like a typhoon off the coast of his home city. And it's pretty much here, like this, that he really, earnestly feels it. More than just a calmness, but a genuine sort of simple happiness. Like, of course he's felt content before, but this is just different. It's just. It's whatever it's supposed to be, right here, for the both of them.

Tsuyu. Yeah.

Bravery wells up inside him.]

Uhm. Dave?

That's Floridick.

[................]

Florida.

[there aren't really a lot of comforts out here. not really. but sometimes, Dave has to pause and sort of be completely surprised with how easy he seems to find some around Ryuji anyway. it's the comfort of knowing that while the rest of the station is in a horrifying murder mode, while his own nightmares and secrets are being flung around haphazardly in an alternate universe version of the station, he has somewhere warm and safe to retreat to. someone who watched him upend a briefcase of major issues all over the floor in one single motion, and despite that, still refused to give up on him.]

[they've had that discussion before. it still surprises him sometimes.]

[and, if it didn't come with the risk of accidentally dozing off and cutting a date in Houston short, he'd roll over on his side and wrap an arm around Ryuji, really bask in how natural lazing around as a mess of limbs has gotten for him. maybe he'll do that once more time has passed, and they've talked a bit longer.]

[maybe once Ryuji's done asking his question here. Dave turns his head slightly to look at him, answering him by breathing out a small, questioning sort of noise. sup?]

[Floriduh, that's a giant landmass of cock just waiting to be scoped out from a bird's eye view. But that's neither here nor there, because Ryuji's set his mind on something and while he has the courage inside himself to do it, he figures he shouldn't squander it.

Octopod limbs strewn about in every which way or not, he wouldn't disagree to that either; letting Dave just fall asleep on him like he's a big old pillow, and forgetting about hearty cupcake that they still have left. Shit, it'd probably make himself tired right along with him, or at least fend off that urge for a little while longer to just be present to it happening. Is it creepy to want to watch someone fall asleep? Maybe. Probably. But... then again, there's Ryuji's floating finger in a jar and nothing can really top that.

Ryuji bolsters himself mentally. Every second that passes between the thought of the thing he wanted to do and actually going through with it puts it all the more in danger of not happening, so with a small, lopsided smile, he catches an inward breath.]

Is it alright if, uh. What I mean to ask, is like.

[Oh god, it's starting to crumble.]

Can I kiss you?

[This was so much more suave in his own head. Seriously.]

[wait, what’s weird about keeping your boyfriend’s severed finger in a jar on your desk?]

[don’t answer that.]

[but there go four simple monosyllabic words, sucking the wind right out of him, swapping it out for a wildly out of control jackhammer instead, as a scenario he’s run through in his head who knows how many times at this point is suddenly not just a thought he’d been having, but very real, and laid out in what little space is left between them.]

[and it isn’t panic, it’s more like a carousel of reactions, kicking off with the thought of god, finally, sweeping back to the first time he really thought about kissing Ryuji in earnest — you know. here on the observation deck, right before Dave had gone and blurted out a similar string of three simple words — and then cruising through all the ways he’s thought about initiating this, then trying to grab on to all the ways he’d imagined he would act cool about it.]

[and fuck if all those ideas on being cool about it just got flung off the ride and out of Dave’s memory. instinct steps in to assume control of this Destinyland metaphor.]

Yeah. [hell yeah, even. there’s no room on this merry-go-round to worry about sounding too excited. he kind of ... doesn’t move for a second, mapping out the movements he figures one might need to be kissed. then, one tiny preplotted thought nudges its way back in and he lifts a hand, sliding his shades up and off his face, resting them on the top of his head. then, he scoots himself upward a bit, so they’re even more at eye level, and turns his head, officially reducing the space between them to basically nothing.]

[he’s right there. their noses could practically be touching. here’s Ryuji’s time to shine.]

[Nothing at all, apparently.

And it's not like Ryuji hasn't thought about this a ton, either. It's one of those things that he keeps telling himself he should just go for it, and then when the opportunity comes and he's thinking it's a pretty darn good time to steal that first kiss, he ends up being a complete chicken shit about it. Or, even when his courage isn't being called into question, they're busy going through a lot of other things at the same time and he doesn't know how to get that started. But he wanted to; when he thought he was going to die and couldn't touch Dave. When he came back to life after that weird nap of sorts and his body was returned to normal. When his best friend disappeared and Dave brought peace to him by the very merit of being someone he could hold onto and fall asleep with. And the moments that are way more subtle than those, too. Playing a video game and losing. Or winning, as an apology. While he's eating toast at the mess hall. Or times when he's trying to fall asleep and Dave's not there, too. Those thoughts go farther than kissing, though, and fuck, if he was ever asked about that he'd have to bring himself to straight up lie.

In the face of all those other opportunities, though, it was probably just as easy to ask and do it. The "yeah" was more than enough for Ryuji to want to make it happen, never mind the enthusiasm behind it or the way he shifts his body for it, and holy shit, he gets an idea that maybe Dave wanted this as much as he did. Which is. That's heavy, at least, for Ryuji. But the type of weight that's good, that conditions biceps, or something like that- because he can't deny how much he likes when he can't move by merit of his boyfriend just sprawling around or over him.

Cool, he's about to have his first kiss in the midst of cow pie, cowboy, and acorn heaven, as his heart stirs rapidly in his chest and his hand reaches upward to find Dave's hair mingled between fingers. It's happening. It's really fucking happening. He can feel breathing against his own lips, and just as he's about to press upward, of course.

OF COURSE.

The lights in the entire station go out. Christa forgot to pay the electric bill.]

The fu...

[here, Dave will complete that thought for him:]

What the fuck.

[what the fuck, Catherine!! can't two dudes enjoying a space date and learning the ropes on doing right by each other share a nice moment without the station fucking itself up or turning itself sideways!]

[no?]

[Dave's got half a mind to reach over in the pitch dark, awkwardly take hold of Ryuji's face to make sure his aim is true and plant one on him anyway. and maybe he starts to, judging by the way he shifts to his side and just lies there for a moment, his forehead pressed against Ryuji's.]

[but he can feel that familiar measure of cheesed off at the station for trying to fuck up everything again rising in his chest, and raging hormones or not, anger is not an emotion that's invited to their first kiss soiree. Dave cares way too much about Ryuji to have that attached to something they've been building toward for two and a half months, and he doesn't really get the concept of blackrom fury snogging to begin with, so he wants to at least try for the good vibes, here.]

[Dave pulls back and sits up, the back of his head still tingling from Ryuji's touch, the heat of the moment giving way to why he's feeling angry about the whole blackout to begin with. it isn't just because the space station's third wheeled the hell out of them.]

Wait. Is that just the lights, or is everything off? [like. the air filtration. is Cecilia trying to murder them again?]

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