Chapter Text
Brad was standing in front of David’s condo. Well, David’s ex-wife’s condo. That is exactly why Brad was here. He was here to help him move . When David had originally pitched the idea of having him help move over the weekend it had taken a lot of restraint for Brad to not laugh right in his face. There was no way that he was actually going to help David move out, chatting and laughing over pizza and beer after a long day of hauling boxes around.
Yet here Brad is, standing in front of David’s condo with a six pack of some stupid IPA. A stupid IPA that he had spent way too long trying to decide on only a half hour ago at Whole Foods. Brad didn’t drink beer, favoring martinis or wine instead. But David liked beer, and Brad thinks he remembers one time that he mentioned something about enjoying Hazy IPA’s but he only thinks he remembers that. Because what if David said he hated IPA’s and now Brad was going to show up to his condo with a six pack of his least favorite beer in the world? To help David move.
Brad was helping David move.
Okay so that reality was finally hitting him. The realization that he actually cared about what he brought was also hitting him, as well as the fact that Brad even brought something in the first place.
Since when did Brad give a shit about what David Brittlesbee thought about his choices? David wasn’t Brad’s friend, he was another tool that he would use to climb the ladder towards his success. They were co-workers that shared an office and bickered with each other more often than not. However, Brad couldn’t help but find himself still thinking of David when he retired back to his home after a long day at MQ. At first it was really just him ruminating on how pathetic the other man was, more wet blanket than a man in Brad’s eyes. But there was something about him that fascinated him. David was always so kind to others back at the offices. Ninety percent of the time he was a blubbering mess, but the rest of it he was friendly. He would greet everyone as he walked into the office, hold open doors for people, and offer to grab coffee while he was stopping by the kitchenette.
Brad was not as kind as David was. At one point in his life he had been, but that was when he was young and foolish. In some ways it had been easier to be naive and kind, it made it easier to connect with others. But as the years went on, everything with Zach and Kate , time hardened Brad. There was no use in being soft and weak, that would end up getting him nowhere.
Then there was David, seemingly disproving this theory. The living embodiment of a door mat had somehow landed the job of executive producer of Mythic Quest. Sure, from what Brad could see David had his own challenges being a prominent figurehead of one of the most popular MMORPGs in the world, but he was still in that position. Jesus Christ, some people even respected him .
So maybe Brad had David on his mind more than he would care to admit, and maybe that’s the reason why he’s standing in front of his condo right now with a six pack of some bullshit hipster beer, dressed in jeans and a goddamn t-shirt to help him move. Brad sighs, eyes closing for a few seconds as he questions his actions. When they open he raises his hand and knocks firmly on the front door.
After a few moments David answers the door, cheery as ever, smile stretched across his face. “Brad! You made it!”
“Of course I made it. I texted you when I was on my way over.” Brad answers, narrowing his eyes in David’s direction. He moves forward then, thrusting the pack of beer into the others hands, stepping into the condo. The space was pretty unremarkable which didn't surprise him much. He's thankful to see that everything in the condo is already packed into boxes labeled with the corresponding room that the items came from.
“You brought beer.” David says behind him, mostly to himself, and Brad can feel his eyes focused on the back of his head and for some reason it makes him feel sick.
Yes, he had brought beer. Yes he had remembered that David had said something about pizza and beer. Yes he had actually agreed to help him move. Instead of a verbal response Brad just raises a hand, waving it around a bit as he turns on his heels to face David once more.
“You picked a good one, too. I really like this one.” David adds casually, setting the six pack down on top of one of the boxes marked kitchen .
There’s this feeling that starts in Brad’s chest when David confirms that he did in fact like that specific beer that he spent nearly thirty minutes choosing. It’s something warm and it travels up his neck, to his cheeks. Jesus Fucking Christ, was he blushing? Now Brad doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just stands there for a moment, smile on his face that he’s really trying to make look intimidating or unsettling, but he fears that if anything it just makes him look happy. Happy to be here helping David move and happy that he picked the correct beer.
He would need to reflect on this further.
“Alright Dave,” Brad says, voice a little too loud, hands raising to clap together. “We should probably get a move on here because I really don’t have all day to help you lug around boxes.”
The smile that was on David’s face falters a little bit, but he seems determined enough to keep a cheery appearance. Typical David , Brad thinks.
The rest of the morning goes surprisingly well. Brad was expecting David to be an unorganized mess with this whole thing but he was shockingly prepared. Loading up the UHAUL and Brad’s car (because yes, Brad had offered to let David use the car to have a little extra space) didn’t take very long, and before they knew it they were en route to Cerritos. It’s nearing one pm when Brad climbs into his BMW and follows behind David in the truck. It’s about an hour drive which isn’t that terrible of a commute, but it’s terrible for Brad because that means he’s stuck in a car alone for an hour with his thoughts that keep drifting to David .
Obviously Brad had agreed to help David move for a specific reason, he wasn’t that emotionally inept to not realize that. What he’s having a difficult time with is figuring out exactly what the reason is. To describe it how Ian would: Brad doesn’t “do” friendship. He doesn’t “do” feelings. However, here he is helping David move so he can be closer to that widow from Yorba Linda. That’s approaching friendship territory.
He thinks back to the conversation they had back at MQ about David moving, and how Jo had reacted to the situation. How she had jokingly suggested that Brad and David move in together and then laughed right in their faces when David had agreed that it was a good idea. Brad had lived alone for a long time and it was easier that way. Back when he was in college he had never done well with having roommates. He doesn’t like people encroaching on his space, constantly trying to talk to him about something stupid, eating his protein bars and stealing his coffee without asking. Living alone is easier, he has more control over his environment then. But there was one thing that Brad didn’t like about living alone, even if he did have a long list of complaints about sharing a space with another person.
It was lonely.
So maybe that’s the reason why Brad keeps thinking about David and his stupid mustache and the way that the corners of his eyes crinkle when he smiles. The way that time spent with David really isn’t that terrible. How David even gets Brad to laugh sometimes, smile. Maybe their time spent together sharing an office had Stockholm Syndromed Brad into thinking that time spent with David was nice. That helping David meant more of those stupid smiles of his.
Thankfully the drive went by quickly since he was so distracted with his thoughts. Brad pulled into the apartment complex’s parking lot and put his car in park, ultimately feeling more frustrated that he wasn’t able to come to a conclusion about how he felt about David and why he was here in the first place. That was fine, he could work with this, he just had to get through the next few hours and he could head home.
They hadn’t talked much as they unloaded the truck and Brad’s car, both focused on the task at hand. It was hotter than hell outside so the quicker they could get out of the heat the better. It only took about an hour before Brad and David were settled on the couch they had put smack dab in the middle of the living room. David had the foresight to put the beers in the fridge when they had first arrived which meant that they were now sipping on ice cold shitty hipster beer.
Okay … the beer honestly wasn’t that bad. Brad can’t help but cringe internally as that thought passes through his mind.
“To a successful moving day!” David says cheerily, extending his bottle of beer towards Brad who just stares at it for a few seconds. Brad moves his own beer bottle forward, clinking them together and flashing David a smile.
“Thanks again,” David adds, “for helping me move.”
“No problem, D-Train.” Brad pauses then, and before he can properly think through what to say next he continues on. “It honestly wasn’t that bad.”
That statement seems to do something to David because he sits up straighter on the couch and he flashes Brad that stupid smile and that causes Brad to have a realization.
He actually likes David . There are feelings involved.
Shit .
The thought alone makes him feel like he has to vomit so he tries to wash it down with some of the IPA which turns out to be a mistake, only making him feel more nauseous. The fact that he actually enjoyed spending time with David Brittlesbee was not on his bingo card for the year, but ultimately it did make sense. He had agreed to help David set up a new dating profile which in turn is the reason why he had moved to this apartment in Cerritos in the first place.
Oh. Now he feels even more sick as his thoughts continue to spiral on. The idea that David had moved out here to be closer to someone that he was dating made Brad feel … uneasy . Even though Brad often met David with less than kind words and often sarcastic remarks, Brad enjoyed his company enough. Getting close to people was never his strong suit. When you get close to someone, there’s always the possibility that they could end up betraying you in the end. Brad had learned this lesson at a young age with his brother, Zach. After everything with Kate things had only gotten worse between him and his brother. Brad could never be tough enough or strong enough to ensure that people weren’t taking advantage of him. Instead of rolling over and exposing his belly to others he made a decision to harden himself, to build up the walls around his heart to make sure that no one made it inside.
David, somehow, had made it inside.
“Brad?” David’s voice pulls Brad out of his thoughts, causing him to blink a few times. Shit, had he really been spacing out? “You good?”
“What? Yeah.” Brad’s words don’t sound as sure as he wants them to, so he sips his beer for some liquid courage and tries again. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired from moving your shit around all day.”
That gets a laugh from David which unfortunately causes Brad to crack a smile.
“Oh! I said we’d order pizza.” David says after he takes a sip from his beer. He places the bottle on the ground, back leaning against the couch as he lifts his hips up, grabbing his phone out of his back pocket. Brad was going to take another sip of his beer but he pauses, bottle resting against his lips as he watches David maneuver on the couch. He recognizes his gaze is lingering and he hates himself a little for it, but he doesn’t tear his gaze away. Thankfully he finishes his task of sipping his beer before David notices his staring.
Brad glances down at his watch while David taps away on his phone and he debates commenting about how it’s getting late and how he should really be getting back to his own home. It was already almost four pm which means that Brad has willingly spent most of his Saturday with David Brittlesbee. For some reason the idea of him going back to his big empty house isn’t appealing.
“Get something with mushrooms on it.” Brad says instead of making some excuse about needing to leave.
David smiles.
Forty minutes pass before the pizza arrives and they’ve both finished their three respective beers. David had grabbed some shitty light beers that he from before the move and brought them into the living room. Brad was enjoying the conversation that they were having and he was fully blaming it on the fact that he was four beers deep at this point. He’s laughing and enjoying himself, David is making him laugh. He had convinced David to unpack some of his kitchen items so he could have a plate, fork, and knife to eat his pizza. The plate is balanced in his lap as he carefully cuts up his slice of veggie pizza and David chuckles next to him.
“Something you wanna say?” Brad asks, a bit of a bite to his tone but this time it’s playful.
“You would eat pizza with a fork.” David says with a shrug of his shoulders, a smile on his face as he picks up his slice of pizza and takes a bite.
“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Brad challenges back with a raised brow, turning his head so he can look David in the eyes.
“Oh, I’m not … I don’t think it’s bad or anything.” David stumbles over his words a bit, and it’s painfully obvious that he’s worried he has offended him. He pauses, clearing his throat. “It’s cute.”
Brad’s hands still at that, freezing in place on David’s couch. Cute? David just called him cute. David, who moved into this apartment to be closer to the woman he was dating, just called him cute.
“Cute?” Brad pauses then, letting out a scoff. “I’m not cute.” He’s not cute. He wasn’t supposed to be someone that was described as cute. He should be described as intimidating, a force to be reckoned with, and if someone is commenting on his appearance they should use the word handsome , not cute .
Brad’s still looking at David and he sees him open his mouth to say something, but he closes it instead. His shoulders raise into a shrug and he mumbles a “whatever” before he takes another drink of his beer.
Brad should really just let this go, brush it off as David trying to be nice but getting his words all jumbled up because he’s tipsy or close to drunk or something , but he can’t let it go. So he sets the fork and knife down on the plate and discards the plate entirely on the floor. His body turns, fully facing David now, and raises his hand as he points his index finger in his direction.
“Hold on,” He says, watching carefully as David’s brows knit together and a small frown begins to tug at the corners of his lips. Passively Brad can’t help but think that David right now looks cute . Clearly he’s flustered, nervous that he has offended Brad in some way or crossed a line. And this should be a crossed line, this should be something terrible, but Brad finds himself continuing to speak regardless of consequence. “You genuinely think I’m cute?”
David’s mouth hangs open a little bit as he tries to think of what to say, and Brad’s eyes are fixed on him. He’s studying every small twitch on his face, the way his brows furrowed together even more as he thinks, mouth closing and lips pursing together. “I said that it was cute that you ate your pizza with a fork. Not … I-I wasn’t … that’s not what I meant, Brad.”
Maybe David is just trying to cover for himself here. Maybe he realizes that this is getting into some dangerous territory. Regardless of the others motivation, there’s this heavy weight that begins to settle on Brad’s chest. For some stupid, stupid reason he wants approval from David.
He really was getting weak, wasn’t he?
A pussy .
Brad shakes his head a little bit, mostly to just shake those thoughts out of his head, but also in response to David’s statement. He goes back to his beer, taking a long drink from it because he sure as shit is too sober to be having conversations like this with David .
“Relax, I’m just fucking with you.” Brad adds half-heartedly, because he needs this conversation to move forward fast. He picks back up the plate of pizza, stabbing (a little more forcefully than he had planned) a piece he had cut earlier with his fork, taking a bite.
David visibly relaxes, letting out a breathy laugh beside him. “Shit, Brad.” He says between laughter, “You really had me there.”
Brad forces out a laugh, an expertly crafted fake smile appearing on his face. They sit in silence then, finishing their slices of pizza and discarding the plates in the sink. They settle back onto the couch, sitting a bit closer together this time. Earlier they each took a spot on either end of the couch, now David is sitting on the left and Brad is in the middle. The two crack open their fresh cans of beer and their eyes meet. There’s still some tension in the air, Brad can feel it and he assumes David can too because David’s clearing his throat and opening his mouth to speak.
“So, Cerritos.” David says, drawing out the “s” a bit, leaning back into the couch. He sips on his beer, letting out a sigh. “Can’t believe I live here now.”
“Yeah, pretty crazy.” Brad says, because it is pretty crazy. David had been kicked out of his ex-wife’s condo and instead of finding a place close to work, he moved an hour away to be closer to a woman he started dating only a few months prior. That’s one thing Brad will never understand, relationships. He wonders if David had even consulted with Jane before the move.
Brad hates that he remembers her name.
He’s not sure why he hates it so much.
“I just really think this will be a great new chapter.” David says, almost a dopey smile on his face. Brad doesn’t understand how he can be so fucking optimistic all the time.
“So things are getting pretty serious with the widow then?”
“Jane, her name’s Jane.” David interjects, giving a tisk before he continues. “And yes, I think things are getting pretty serious. She uh … she keeps taking down more and more pictures of him. And! And I’ve been staying over more.”
“Why didn’t you two move in together then?” Brad asks with a raised brow, shifting his position on the couch a little bit so he can look at David.
That question makes David pause, lips pursing together. He takes a sip from his beer and Brad thinks he’s just doing it so he can think of a proper answer. Interesting .
“I don’t think we’re at that point yet.” He finally settles on saying, doing that stupid thing with his voice where it’s higher in pitch but his words are slow, trying to convince everyone that he’s not worried about something.
Brad also hates that he can see through it.
"At least you will be closer to her now." Brad says but there's this emptiness to his words because he really doesn't care that David is closer to Jane. No, that's not correct. He does care and that only makes him angrier. In some selfish way, Brad wishes that David had stayed closer to Mythic Quest Headquarters. If he's learned anything today it's that he has some sort of feelings for David Brittlesbee, and they're making him feel a bit sour about this whole moving situation.
He thinks back to when he had originally decided to set David up with someone. David had been this unsellable loot crate that Brad thought he could conquer, a challenge for him to overcome. But as he reflects on the last few hours, and the last few years that he has known David, maybe he had been trying to push him away. Those feelings that had smacked him in the face today didn’t just appear out of nowhere, they had been building for a long time. Brad had tried to push them down for as long as possible because he couldn’t go soft for David, that wouldn’t work. It couldn’t work.
Brad is able to pull himself out of his thoughts this time due to the fact that David still hasn’t said anything. There’s a hint of a smirk dancing at the corners of his lips, brow raising as he looks at David, head canting to the side. “What? Nothing to say to that? I thought that was the whole point of you moving out here.”
“No, I mean … yeah . Yeah no I …” David trails off, free hand moving to rub at the nape of his neck. His face is flushed thanks to the alcohol and he lets out a long sigh. “It is why I moved out here, and I’m happy I did it. I’m excited for this, but it’s scary at the same time, y’know?”
Jesus Christ, was David searching for more relationship advice? Brad just blinks at him, hand raising and waving a bit, urging him to continue on.
David sighs again, pushing his back away from the arm of the couch, leaning in towards Brad. “It’s like, this is a big deal right? Me moving. And I like Jane a lot, and I’m happy to be a bit closer to her … half way between her and MQ. It’s just that I hope that she’s excited about me being closer.”
“So you haven’t told her that you moved?” Brad asks and he leans a bit closer to David, gaze skeptical.
“No, no I have not.”
“Jesus Christ man.” Brad says with a laugh, shaking his head from side to side as he takes another drink.
“Hey!” David squeaks, offense lacing his tone, reaching a hand forward and giving Brad’s knee a gentle shove.
David’s hand feels warm against his knee but it makes him shiver. Every part of him is screaming at him to pull away, to slink further down the couch, but he stays. Instead of retreating he reaches a hand out, swatting David’s away.
“You moved an hour away from MQ headquarters to be closer to a woman that you’ve been dating for several months, didn’t even tell her about it, sitting here talking about how you’re not sure that she’s going to be excited that you’re closer to her. And you called me cute earlier.” Brad states the facts, pausing for a moment to sip his beer and drink in the shocked and slightly annoyed expression that David is giving him right now. “I also can’t help but notice that you asked me to help you move, and I don’t see Jane here helping you move.” He clicks his tongue, smirk growing. “You are a mess.”
“First of all, I didn’t call you cute.” David insists, leaning in closer, hand reaching out to point in Brad’s face. “I said that you eating pizza with a fork is cute.”
“Well, do you think that I’m cute David?” Brad finds himself asking against his better judgment. He’s going to blame it on the beers, and not that he really wants to know David’s answer.
David is silent. It’s like Brad can see the wheels turning in his head, debating on if he really should answer this question honestly or not. David raises his can of beer to his lips, clearing his throat, mumbling into the can.
“I … I’ve always thought you were an attractive man.”
Brad freezes for the second time this evening and is left sitting on the couch staring at David with a dumbfounded expression that he’d never let anyone else see. David sips his beer and his face turns a shade of red that Brad’s never seen before, eyes focusing on the can of beer in his hands rather than Brad.
“Always?” Brad asks skeptically, leaning in a little bit closer, voice just as quiet as David’s was.
David hums and shrugs in response, finally meeting Brad’s gaze. He sits still for a moment before slowly nodding his head. Brad just stares at at him, head tilted to the side, studying the other mans face. It’s a quick confession, something that shouldn’t mean much, but it’s hit him like a ton of bricks.
David thinks he’s cute, and Brad has finally come to terms with the fact that he likes David.
Brad does something incredibly stupid before he can think twice about it.
There’s not much room between the two of them anymore, so he leans forward, closing the gap between them and pressing their lips together. In the back of his head, Brad expects David to shove him backwards. His hand even reaches out, moving to rest against Brad’s chest. Instead of pushing him back, he’s gripping his t-shirt, pulling him in closer.
The kiss isn’t pretty, if anything it’s needy. Lips and teeth and three or so years of pent up frustration that neither of them had expressed until this very moment. Brad feels like he’s floating for a few seconds, like his soul isn’t in his body. David’s lips are softer than he had thought they would be. He notices that his stupid mustache is a little bit wet from the beer, he also notices that David’s breath is quickening and he’s leaning further into him. He briefly wonders why he hadn’t done this sooner, why this hadn’t been the offered solution to David trying to ‘get back out there’ , because kissing David isn’t like any of the other kisses he had shared before.
He needs more.
Brad shifts, trying to lean forward more, but he’s forgotten that he’s holding an open beer can. Beer sloshes as his hand moves, spilling over his hand and onto the floor. He pulls back, glancing at the spilt beer and then back to David. He repeats this once, twice, brain finally catching up to what he had just done. He had spilled beer onto David’s floor, his new apartment’s floor, his new apartment that he moved into in order to be closer to his girlfriend .
Brad sets the can of beer onto the floor, standing up abruptly, running his dry hand through his hair. His chest is still heaving as he looks down at David, back straightening, jaw clenching. “I …” He has no idea what to say, so instead of saying anything more he takes off towards the front door.
“Brad, wait! C’mon …” David’s voice is more desperate than Brad has ever heard it. He reaches the door, hand on the door knob, and David’s desperation is enough to make him pause. He draws in a deep breath, collecting himself.
“Respectfully, David,” He turns his head, looking at the other, “I need to go, and you need to figure some shit out. Fuck, I have to figure some shit out.”
Before David can respond Brad is out the door, practically running down the stairs and out of David’s apartment complex. As he walks he wipes the beer off of his hand and onto his pant leg. He reaches his car and unlocks it, throwing open the drivers side door with a bit more force than he probably should have used. He also slams the door closed, locking it once he’s inside, and tilts his head back so it’s resting against the headrest.
What the fuck had just happened now? One second he had been criticizing David’s love life and the next he was making out with him. Instead of ruminating on his thoughts he turns on the radio, not paying attention to what station he was on. He just cranks the music and peels out of the parking lot.
This was not good.