fuckmeimadj:

“Nah dude, don’t even worry about it. I’m used to it; Dave was pretty sensitive to anything with gluten up until he was like eight or nine. So I know how to do the food label reading thing. You’re fine.” Dirk was totally cool with it, he really just liked having John around. He was more than happy to be accommodating. 

“Fuck yeah it does, man.” He smiled, watching John order and waiting until he was all set to get his French toast and hash browns and sausages, along with a glass of Mountain Dew instead of a milkshake. Fucking incredible. 

John’s excitement was really cute. It was always really cute when people got so excited about stuff. “No, no, man,” he said, waving his hand a little so he’d stop. “I got you, don’t worry about it. You look really hungry, I couldn’t just like eat in front of you. Besides, you did the dishes and put my laundry in, the least I can do is treat you on our date.”

Nodding in understanding, he played with the little paper ring that had previously held his silverware together around a napkin. “Mm. Okay. I don’t want to inconvenience you at all ever. So if I get annoying please let me know.” That was a serious thing. John was constantly worried he was overbearing because he… was. Overbearing. A lot.

John nearly choked on the sip of water he’d taken. Wh… at. What. Did he just. “I must be hard of hearing,” he laughed, “because I know I didn’t just hear you call it a…” His cheeks flushed a little. “…a date.” Shit, that sounded like he was upset about it - backpedal! “I mean, i-if it is, that’s okay, I mean… Oh god I’m so underdressed and my hair looks stupid and I’m getting a pile of food smothered in cheese who does that on a date and-” Breathe, John. He took in a breath, imploring Dirk with a look. “I.. why?” Him of all people. John Egbert, master of failure and everything leading up to it. He smiled weakly, and added in a quieter voice: “I’m a wreck.”