Work Text:
Your name is Jake English, and you just cannot figure out what the devil is wrong with you lately. You’ve been feeling a little off of your regular kilter, and it’s been driving you up the wall that you’ve yet to pinpoint just what is the cause. Well rather, you could pinpoint a couple of things, but you can’t bring yourself to believe that those things could be causing all this muck in your system. One of them simply being that you’ve had more time on your hands than you know what to do with. But normally that doesn’t cause issues with your moods. You’ve simply exhausted all your typical options and are in need of something new to do, right? Work has been slow, so you can’t just up and fill your time with extra shifts or anything.
Another thing that you’ve considered is that you’ve been avoiding your friends, but in reality you’re probably heckling them a lot more than usual. It’s simply that they are all busy and you aren’t as much. Rather, the girls have been quite busy. You still aren’t speaking with Dirk. It’s been nearly three months.
Which leads you to the third thing you came up with, that you refuse to believe is the actual issue. Dirk has not been speaking to you after you broke things off with him. You completely understand him needing time to get over things and sort them out for himself, and so you can’t find a single reason why you’d be bothered by this. It’d be rather rude of you to expect him to drop feelings so fast, not to mention you sort of don’t mind the space considering it is what you asked for in the first place. You’d be some sort of hypocrite or fool if you came to be upset with getting what you wanted.
Nevertheless you’ve been in a mood, and you feel as though you’ve ran through every single idea that you could possibly come up with. All except the suggestion that you’ve been avoiding, considering it can lead down a dangerous path that you’ve already seen one friend recover from. You really never wanted to make a habit of drowning your problems; however if you can’t find the problem, is it really drowning it? You could always write it off as a bit of fun or an experiment to see how you’d act when really out of sorts. It’d only be one night, if this didn’t work then you’d just have to try something else. Another distraction, another quest to find whatever it is that you’re missing that’s making you feel the way you are.
So that was how you found yourself seated at the bar of some local lively nightclub, alone on a Friday night. A couple of young ladies had already come up to speak with you, most of them already wasted or easily distracted by another fellow who was more willing to sit under the eager attention. You weren’t here for that sort of thing tonight. You were here to get pleasantly shitfaced and see how it felt. If it got somehow better or worse.
You’d already texted Roxy and let her know that you may need rescuing later in the evening. Bless her soul, she just agreed without asking too many questions and let you have your, no doubt problematic, evening. Despite knowing this was probably a bad idea, you weren’t going to be so daft as to not have some sort of backup plan or getaway car. Jane would normally have your head for something like this, so you never ran it by her and didn’t dare consider asking her to drive you. You knew that Roxy would probably understand or at least be less lecturing in the moment and save it for the morning after.
Sitting at the bar, two shots of whiskey and something called a Bloody Hell into the evening, you got the idea to start scrolling through your phone on social medias. Not a common pastime for you, but you weren’t really in the mood to start chatting with strangers or making new friends. You laughed a little too loud at a particularly amusing animal video and looked up to realize quite a number of eyes were on you. Feeling a little more self-conscious after that, you asked for two more shots, downed them, and headed towards the dance floor.
Even if you weren’t planning on talking to anyone or taking them home that night, you could at least let yourself get lost in a throng of people moving to a nice tempo. Despite what many of your friends may think, you aren’t a terrible dancer. You just aren’t an expert either and would never dare claim to be. It doesn’t take training or lessons to learn how to sway back and forth or jump around however, so places like this were certainly less intimidating in that respect.
The more the alcohol started to sink into your system, the better the music seemed to sound, and the more into the motions you got. Before you knew it you were lost in the crowd, a sea of people, never ending from all sides. It was rather packed, but thankfully no one had taken to grinding on you or attempting to get your immediate attention. The thought passed through your mind that everyone seemed especially ignorant of your presence today, and your whole mood started to crash. You tried to push the intruding thought out of your mind, but it seemed to linger in the background.
You started to wonder if maybe you’d lost some of your charm over the months that you’d been with Dirk. He certainly seemed to think you a charming fellow and made a point of saying so from time to time. Could it be possible that he was wrong? He wasn’t wrong often, so it would be a bit of a shock. Your brain urged you to text him and ask for confirmation in your charming abilities. That’s when it struck you.
Dirk…
Just like that your train of thought took a swan dive off the tracks it had been on and landed in a new path entirely. Destination unknown for a moment.
You couldn’t text him. Dirk was upset with you, and he had every right to be. He was respecting your desire for space and leaving you completely alone.
And despite being in the midst of a sea of people, you felt completely alone. Painfully so.
You stopped moving entirely, the music a dull hum now, a lifeless backdrop to the thoughts hammering your brain and the ache in your chest.
You were reminded of one of the times you and him went out to a place like this. How he cut you off when you started getting a little too drunk. How he’d danced close with you all night and fended off anyone who dared get near. How cute you’d thought it was then that he was being so protective.
He wasn’t here to protect you this time, and you started to feel rather sick of being around so many people. You needed outside ASAP. “You need another drink,” your brain whispered to you. But that was just as bad an idea as texting Dirk at a time like this. Or was it? Knowing the best course of action was becoming increasingly difficult.
Nevertheless you made your way back to the bar and asked for some water. After attempting to chug the glass and having some kind stranger remind you to slow down before you hurl, you sat down and ran a hand through your hair. You didn’t want to think about this. Didn’t want to draw the lines to connect the dots. Didn’t want to come to the conclusion that you were bound to come to. At least not right now.
You laid your head down on the counter with a soft thump that didn’t appear to bother anyone around you. That was good at least. You could remain invisible for a while whilst your thinker turned through some things, as unwilling as you were to listen to it. You tried to zone out. Focus on any small detail in the background and latch onto it. Your breathing. The bass of the music, but not really the notes. The conversations of people around you.
That’s when a familiar chuckle picks it’s way out of the crowd, and you really think you must be hearing things now. Given your situation and how little you know about being intoxicated, you almost think that’s a probability. Then you hear it again and sneak a peek under your arm like a middle schooler trying to cheat at Heads-up, Seven-up.
You can’t see anyone’s face from this vantage point, but you’d know that body anywhere. As the thought echoes in your head, you cringe at just how well you’re accustomed to him that you would even know such a thing. But sure enough, that has to be one painstakingly bewitching Dirk Strider a few paces down the bar, laughing and making light with another fellow.
The first thought you have is to ignore them and try to find another conversation to listen in on, if only so that you don’t ..….. Don’t what? Don’t get jealous? Why on earth would you be jealous? You left him. You asked for space. Three months ago, no less. So what reason could you have to find even an ounce of jealousy?
The second thought you have doesn’t care for its predecessor and tells you that you should, in fact, listen in to the conversation transpiring between your ex-boyfriend and a stranger whom you already dislike. Since this thought seems much more agreeable, you do just that. You order yourself another Bloody Hell and ask for a straw. The bartender eyes you oddly before just complying.
Once you have the drink in front of you, you continue to slouch and sip at it. You’re staring into the cup in a mixed expression of it being very interesting and of you trying to find you’re raison d’etre in the liquid before you. It does it’s job to make you seem unapproachable for the time being. Your ears are of course still trained on the conversation between Dirk and this guy.
“So you’re into computers then?” The stranger asks.
“You could say that, yeah.” Dirk responds, measured as always. You hate that you can mentally picture exactly what expression he’s making just by his tone. That coy little smile hinting that he’s being purposely modest for the sake of wanting to keep conversation flowing.
“I’ve heard that’s a pretty quick moving field in progress. Working on anything major or just business as usual?”
“I’d …. rather not talk about work right now. I’m here to have a nice night and get away from that sort of thing.” Dirk gives his response, and you’re trying to work out why that doesn’t settle right with you.
“Fair enough. Want to tell me more about yourself then? What do you like to do outside of work?” This guy seems too pushy, you think.
“Stuff like this. Talking to people. Dancing.” You presume that Dirk shrugged before an answer like that. You don’t dare risk a glance.
“Well in that case, might I tempt to you to become more acquainted with me on the dancefloor?” You roll your eyes at that, thinking that a line like that could never work on someone like Dirk. It’s too forward, and they hardly know one another. There’s no way-
“You may.” The tone Dirk uses for his response is the thing that has you the most shocked. He sounds pleased as punch, perfectly fucking amused.
Something inside you snaps. You look over to where their voices were coming from, but all you see is an empty stool and a head of blond hair disappearing into the crowd following a darker haired fellow whose appearance immediately sours your mood further. Your emotions flit from confused to sad to angry so fast that you’re surprised your head isn’t spinning.
But you still aren’t jealous. Definitely not. Dirk has every right to move on after you left him like that. You should be happy for him.
Should be.
You can’t find it in yourself to be happy for him. You don’t like that fellow that he’s with. Don’t trust him to treat Dirk well. Your mind goes so far as to presume that he’s just interested in a one night stand and nothing more. Dirk is a fine looking young man, and it wouldn’t be the first time his looks had been all that people were interested in. He’d told you plenty of stories from his past.
You ask for another shot of whiskey. The bartender tells you it’ll be your last for a bit and that you look a little rough. You nod in understanding and take the shot anyway. It shocks you that when you move to stand up, you stumble a bit before regaining balance. You never thought yourself to be a lightweight, but then again, you also had never dabbled in getting intoxicated beyond a casual drink at parties when appropriate.
Regardless, you manage to make your way back onto the dancefloor. How you planned to find Dirk and what you intended to do when you did were not things you’d yet considered. Nevertheless you plow your way through and try your best to make it look casual and not clumsy.
As packed as the dancefloor typically is, tonight it’s especially so, and you soon find yourself at a roadblock. There’s a pack of friends, ten or twelve young ladies, gyrating in a very over the top manner and taking up the entirety of your path. When you try to glance around and find another way past them, they encircle you and all begin to try and dance with you. You keep your hands to yourself and try to stand as still as possible, but with them bumping into you from all sides and being tipsy, that’s a challenge in and of itself. No amount of attempting to converse with them and turning them down was going to work, being as close to the speakers as you were.
You continue to look for a way out and when you turn to your left, you spot them finally. Those ridiculous sunglasses would be unmistakable in any crowd, even atop his head in his hair as they are. The view before you seems to unravel in slow motion and you can hear your pulse throbbing in your head as you watch.
The stranger has his hands on Dirk’s hips from behind and is very clearly grinding against him. Their bodies swaying together. Dirk has his head turned toward the guy and is genuinely smiling. That look was one you hadn’t seen in a while. It makes your stomach twist. His one arm is reached up and back, probably wrapped near the guy’s neck, while the other is laying over the hand on his waist. The blond appears to be enjoying himself. They get closer as you continue to watch, nearly nose to nose.
You can’t just stand here and accept this. Watch this. Everything in your being screams for you to go break them apart. Screams that it should be you and only you to hold Dirk like that. Screams that you fucked up.
Anger encompasses your body. Or rather, jealousy and some likely misplaced possessiveness. You glance around again for a way out of the circle of women and when no path reveals itself to you, you have to come up with a plan fast. You lead one of the ladies towards you and spin her around. Then while she’s turned, you slip out through the space she’d left in the circle.
Just like that you’re free.
Spotting Dirk once more, a mere teasing breath from kissing that absolute stranger, you muster all your courage. The first step feels difficult, but the ones after that, the ones that bring you closer to him, only felt more right as the distance closed. At first neither of them notice your presence as you stand before them. So you clear your throat and send a silent prayer to the powers that be. Don’t let him hate me for this.
“Dirk?” You shout over the thrum of the music. He still seems to not notice, so you try again louder. “Excuse me, Strider?”
He jumps and looks like an absolute deer in the headlights before his gaze locks onto you. “Jake? What the hell are you doing here?”
“Not important. Mind telling me what the blazes is going on here?” you ask, moving closer so you don’t have to yell as much.
“This guy giving you problems?” The stranger cuts in, and your expression sours as you hear his voice again. You promptly roll your eyes. Dirk ignores him.
“Also not important. Or at the very least, none of your concern. You made that perfectly clear,” he snaps. It stings a little. You’re painfully aware of your mistake now.
“Would you mind stepping out to speak with me privately?” you inquire, trying to remain as polite as possible.
“I think I’m all set, thanks. Enjoy your space though, feel free to roam about the cabin,” he says, and it sends you back to a comment you’d made about him being the same level of commanding as an airline attendant. It bites, and you regret saying that as well now.
“Dirk please. Just a quick word.” You try again. Dirk turns back to face his ‘date’ or whoever this man is and ignores you.
“He said no, just fuck off man.” The stranger steps in, wrapping an arm around Dirk possessively.
“Excuse me?” you exclaim, not sure where the need for expletives came from. You’re trying not to let the anger rise in you.
Dirk squirms out of the grip and manages to step aside, turning to watch both you and this man get closer.
“I said leave the guy the fuck alone or I’ll make you sorry you bothered him.” Bold words from a man who hardly knows who he’s dancing with and clearly doesn’t know you.
“I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve been in a proper tussle.” You crack your neck and then your knuckles. “I’d be pleased as punch if you took a hit. Give me your best shot.” You then spread your arms wide open, giving the man full range to hit you if he was serious.
“Guys, this really isn’t necessary.” Dirk tries to chime in, and a second later your head is jostled to the right and you hear a crack. It doesn’t take a whole lot to figure out that he actually swung at you, what’s shocking more than anything is that his fist connected squarely with your jaw. Normally your reflexes were better than that. All things considered, it might not even bruise with how little force he put on it.
You turn your face back to look at him with a wide smile. “That’s really it?”
“Take it outside at least, jesus christ.” Dirk says, sounding exasperated as ever and clearly embarrassed. The man takes another swing at you and you dodge that one, reaching out and catching his arm by the elbow.
“Think again, fellow.” You grin and wink, being as cheeky as ever. How you’re managing this as drunk as you likely are, you aren’t sure. But you’re glad that your reflexes are still seemingly as sharp as ever.
“Jake, let him go.” Dirk says sternly. You glance over at him with a raised eyebrow. “Now.”
“I’d love to, pet, but he did start this, and I intend to at least get an equal hit in. An eye for an eye.”
“-makes the whole world blind. English if you want to explain this mess to the cops later, be my guest. But if you do want to talk to me and you want my advice? You’d best walk this one off. He’s not worth it,” Dirk says. You hate it when he makes sense like this.
“You’re worth it though.” You counter, your grip never lessening on the man’s elbow, thumb finding the pressure point you’d been searching for subconsciously.
“Hey man, let me go,” the guy whines, sounding like he’s lost already.
“Jacob Theo-” He refrains from rattling off your full name and bites his lip a second. “Don’t do what you’re about to. Let him run off like a scared bitch and walk away,” Dirk says, placing a gentle hand on your free arm. He sure seemed convincing when he was pissed. Also beautiful, but that’s nothing new.
You looked around yourself to find that a small crowd had gathered and been watching the chaos unfold. You sigh and let the man go after another second. He drops to the floor and gasps for air, acting as if you’d held him in a chokehold or something ridiculous. You’d only had him about halfway to passing out via pressure point; it’s not as serious as he was making it out to be, really.
Dirk drops to the floor beside the guy, and for a second you’re furious. Then you overhear, “Get out before he seriously does some damage to your ass and never fucking contact me again.”
You’re positively beaming.
The guy nods and makes an ok sign with his one hand.
Dirk then grabs your arm and drags you back past the bar, out the front door, and back to an alley between the club and the building next door.
“Finally,” you exclaim, mind still fuzzy but eager to speak with Dirk.
“Nope. Stop. Don’t wanna hear it just yet. I get to talk first. Are you out of your fucking mind, English? Do you realize what kind of shit you could have just gotten into?”
“A fight for your honor?” You try sheepishly. He is not amused.
“You could have gotten kicked out or arrested if you’d hit back or knocked him out, Jake. What the hell were you thinking?” He looks you right in the eye, and you can’t even try to come up with an excuse.
So you shrug and give a noncommittal sound that vaguely resembles an “I dunno.”
He squints at you, steps closer, and for a second you think he’s going to kiss you, and you are so very ready for that to be a reality once more. He sniffs and steps away, and you frown.
“Are you fucking drunk right now?”
“I’m not sure that’s quite the word I would use.”
“So yes. You are. I’ve never seen you like this, and you reek of whiskey. Nice try though.”
You open your mouth to speak, and he cuts you off.
“Next question. Why the fuck did you decide to come here of all places on tonight of all nights? Are you stalking me? Following me? Did Roxy tell you to come here?” he asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
“Roxy? She knows I’m here but mentioned no tells of you being here tonight. I’m not stalking or following you Dirk. I was here for …. erm … well personal reasons that do not concern you.” You try, not wanting to admit anything that you’d been thinking about tonight or the few weeks prior,
“Mhm. Ok. Personal reasons. That don’t concern me. Which is why you approached me and promptly started a fight?” He asks, throwing a hand up in the air in a rather sassy manner. You’d always appreciated the way he spoke with his hands.
“He started it, what with his cursing and swinging first. Honestly I didn’t even hit him,” you explain, stepping forward a little and away from the wall you’d been leaning against.
“But you would have. If I didn’t step in. I could see it in your eyes.” He steps closer as well, poking your chest and looking up into your eyes, only maybe half a head shorter than you.
The silence between you two stretches for a second, and you search his exposed eyes for something. Anything. A hope that he might still care for you. His hands drop back by his sides.
“And what do my eyes say now?” you ask, looking over his face carefully. Silence. “Do you really think me so reckless as to start a fight for no good reason?” you ask.
"Jake. I-” He sighs. “We can’t talk about this tonight. You’re absolutely wasted, and I’ve had a few drinks. We’ve got all this adrenaline and shit. Let’s just call a cab.”
“Roxy promised to pick me up. We can call her instead.”
“That’s fine. I’m going to light a smoke in the meantime, unless you need help using your phone,” he says, pulling out a box of cigarettes.
“I’ve got it,” you say, watching him wander a little further down the alley so the smoke wouldn’t be right in your face. As much as you used to hate it when he smoked around you, you wish he’d stay closer to you.
One sloppy phone call and four minutes later, Roxy pulls up outside the place and honks the obnoxious cat-sounding car horn to let everyone know of her arrival. A couple people standing outside just laugh, and Dirk facepalms as he walks to the passenger door.
“Nah uh, prince charming. Back seat with Boozy McBuff over here. I don’t want him passing out or throwing up in the Royce. Gotta protect my baby,” Roxy chirps, slapping the dash.
Dirk doesn’t seem the happiest about it, but he gets in back with you anyway. He winds up having to help you with your seatbelt because your coordination has gotten all out of sorts somehow, and you can’t get the blasted clip in the buckle.
“How in the hell did you get here so fast anyway?” Dirk asks her as she starts to pull away from the place.
“Chillin at the diner down the street waiting for the Jakes here to call me up. Don’t worry. I’m not a speed demon, Dirky.” She turns over her shoulder and blows a kiss at him that he dodges, as always.
“Fair point. Eyes on the road, Lalonde.”
“What? Don’t want me to see y’all making out in my backseat or something?” She giggles, and you blush like mad.
“Erm, Rox, that’s not really uh-” You start.
“Not on the table,” Dirk says briskly.
“Ah, so it’s still like that then?” she muses more as a statement than a real question.
“Can we talk about literally anything else? Please? Or hell, turn on the radio.” You can tell that Dirk is getting more and more exasperated with the events of the night, and you sort of feel guilty for that.
“Sure thing Mr. Crankypants,” Roxy mumbles as she hits the button for the radio and it blares out some hip-hop something or another that you don’t recognize. The genre was always more Roxy and Dirk’s style than something you personally listened to. Then again your music taste is essentially nothing but cinema film scores, so you really can’t judge.
You sort of spend the rest of the car ride zoned out, staring out the window and doing your damnedest to not irritate Dirk. It appears though, that no matter what you do, he’s going to be irritated anyway. Your head still feels a little cloudy if you’re being completely honest, but you try the best you can to rectify it and think logically anyway. The end result is that you start to get a headache, and you want nothing more than to just pass the hell out because of it.
By the time you arrive, Dirk is practically blowing steam out of his ears. His body language seems like a cat with it’s fur standing straight up, ready to attack or defend if need be. It makes you uneasy and a little sad, if not completely full of guilt.
You didn’t realize it at first, but Roxy didn’t actually drop the two of you off at your own homes. Instead she brought you back to her apartment for the night.
“Are you joking?” Dirk asks as he reaches the doorway.
“I don’t want to hear any complaints. Neither of you are sober enough to drive your own butts home, so I make the decisions, and you deal with it until morning,” Roxy chides. You half-flinch, knowing that the tension between them is also probably your fault.
“Whatever,” Dirk mumbles under his breath, walking through the door that Roxy is holding open for the both of you.
“Is the guest room finally furnished?” Dirk calls back, already slipping off his shoes in the living room.
“Nope,” Roxy chirps, seeming a little too happy about the fact. ”You both can share the couch, or you can sleep on the floor.”
Dirk just grunts in response, and you sheepishly walk through the entryway, nodding at Roxy as you pass.
Roxy tries to offer the two of you some food, but you both decline. She then lobs a water bottle straight at your head and tosses Dirk his, which he catches with ease. You’d been facing away from her, plopped rightly on the couch with Dirk stranding across the room.
“Was that really necessary?” you whine, rubbing the back of your skull.
“Definitely. Now you two can do whatever the fuck you want. Door’s locked. Car’s locked. Fridge is free game. Dirky you still have the wifi password, I assume. I’m going the hell to sleep, and I’m gonna have my headphones on. If you make a mess, just clean it up. Thanks boys. Night.” And without giving either of you a chance to respond, she skips down the hall and to her room.
As soon as her door clicks shut, an awkward silence settles over the room.
You break it first, naturally. “What the blazes does she even think we’re going to get up to? As if we’d ever…… do that, in her home of all places.”
“Oh my fucking god.” Dirk groans. “Is that really what you chose to fucking remark on?”
“What? Is there something else I was supposed to say?” You tilt your head at him.
“Well starting with an apology wouldn’t be a bad fucking idea,” he snaps.
“I’m sorry, Dirk. I really am. I didn’t mean to ruin your night or to start a tussle. I just-”
“You just what, Jake? What excuse do you have this time?” He’s glaring at you from behind his shades, and it pains you that you can feel it even if you can’t see it.
“I couldn’t stand the sight.”
“The sight? What? Of me being happy? Or me having a decent time without you? You left me. You asked for space, and I gave it. You don’t get the right to be jealous because you caused this in the first place. And I can’t just keep hanging around for you all my life, waiting for the times that you care about me and sitting on a shelf when you don’t or when you get tired of me. I won’t fucking do that, Jake.”
“I-I know. I don’t expect you to. I …. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Suddenly your hands seem very interesting, and you turn them over in your lap, unable to meet Dirk’s gaze.
“You weren’t. That’s the issue.” His words sting, but you know you deserve them.
“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. You must know that, right?”
“I don’t know,” he said it so quickly that you wondered if he was doubting himself.
“Dirk. I honestly never meant you any harm. I just … I’ve been an absolute fool. I thought I’d only needed time to sort things out I suppose.” You sigh and crack open your water bottle out of nerves and take a swig, trying to regain a little more clarity.
“Well, you got that. What now?” He throws his hands up and you crack the tiniest smile at the gesture. He really is quite endearing.
“What do you mean?” you ask. He sighs, and you just know he’s about to break things down for you.
“What now? What conclusion did you come to? What was it that you had to figure out that I was blinding you from or distracting you from?”
“You weren’t at fault, love.”
“Please don’t call me that right now.” He both looks and sounds like he’s in pain, and that tears you up just a little more inside.
“Alright. I’ll do my best.” You take a deep breath. “What I was saying though, is that none of it was your fault. You weren’t blinding me or any of that nonsense.”
“Then what was it? What was so hard to figure out that you needed to ask for space?”
“Now that’s not fair. I don’t have an easy answer for that, Dirk. What are you looking to get out of this conversation?”
“Answers.”
“It’s complicated. I can’t just, … put it to words. Or rather, I can’t find the words.”
“Well that’s typical.”
“Excuse me, I’ve only just barely come to terms with things over the course of tonight. Heaven forbid I don’t have everything immediately sorted out. It’s not an epiphany, Dirk.” You huff, drinking more of your water. He hasn’t even touched his.
“You mean this could all be some drunken stupor of a mess? Or an irrational fit of loneliness that brought you to ruin my fucking night?”
“No! I may not have the words for it, but I know it’s much more serious than that.” You really aren’t liking his accusatory tone, but there’s still that little voice in the back of your head reminding you that you probably deserve it for the way that you left things.
“Why can’t you just come out and say that you fucking miss me? Why does everything have to be nuanced and secretive and fucking obvious to everyone in the room except you? You’re a smart guy, Jake. I’m not implying you’re not. But damn if you aren’t dense as hell when it comes to certain things.” This time he turns away from you and runs his hands through his hair. You can tell he’s really stressed about this.
“I’m sorry. I do miss you, you’re right. But I think it’s more than that,.” you begin. He keeps his back turned to you but slides his shades into his hair. You assume it’s alright to continue talking to him. “Listen. You want the whole truth of it? I’ll tell you. Maybe you can make more sense of it than I can.” You take another deep breath and think here goes nothing.
“These past few months … I’ve been going out of my mind. Completely. And maybe you’re right, I may be a bit dense when it comes to myself, because I honestly couldn’t figure out what was wrong. I tried everything I could think of. I figured I was just bored maybe. I tried new activities. I probably prattled Roxy and Jane both to death with my near constant company and messages. And well, that’s how I wound up at the bar, I suppose. One of the things I hadn’t tried to distract myself from the weird, bored, empty feeling.”
“You were drinking your problems away?” Dirk asks, turning around quickly, his eyes shining brightly in the dim lighting of the living room.
“Well that’s not how I would word it, per se.” You know your face looks guilty. You try your best to meet his eyes anyway and steel your expression.
“Jacob Theodore English. Fucking Christ. Is your pride really that large that you couldn’t just….”
“I didn’t realize the problem was what it was,” you defend.
“I know. Still, that wasn’t the brightest idea you’ve had by a long shot.”
“I wasn’t planning on making a habit of it. It was going to be a one and done. Try it, see if it works, know it probably won’t, and move on.” The more words that came out of your mouth, the more you started to see the flaws in your logic.
Dirk just pinched the bridge of his nose and took a few deep breaths.
“I know. I’m a real dunce. But you’re missing the point.”
“No. I get it. I’m just avoiding it,” Dirk mumbled.
“Why’s that?” you ask softly.
He takes a step towards you and hesitates again. “It’s gonna be hard to just forgive you and let it all go after a mess like this.”
“I can’t fault you for that. I wouldn’t be surprised if you decided against it, in fact. I hardly deserve the kindness,” you admit.
“Will you stop that?” His voice sounds pained again.
“Stop what?” You’re genuinely confused.
“The kicked puppy thing. You know I can’t stay mad at you long when you do that shit,” he grumbles.
“I wasn’t. I didn’t mean to.” You smile a bit despite the topic. The exchange was one you used to have often. He’d say you were pulling this same sort of act and you’d have no idea you’d even done it.
A moment of silence stretches out where the two of you are just looking at one another, as if trying to communicate via telepathy. Then Dirk takes a few steps towards you, and for just a moment you think he’s going to sit next to you on the couch. He plops into an armchair nearby instead. Another maybe five or ten minutes pass, and you think you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t speak up again soon.
“What’s on your mind?” You keep yourself from adding the word “pet” to the end of the question like you’d very much like to. He seems to notice the effort if the quick glance up at you is any indication. One brief glance up at you through those blond lashes, and suddenly you can’t find the willpower to look anywhere in the room except towards him.
“I know that you want me to forgive you,” he says simply.
“That would be ideal, yes. But I don’t expect that to come so easy,” you admit.
“Jake do you understand why that isn’t easy? I can’t gauge how close you are to sobriety at the moment, and I want to make sure this part is really sinking in for you.” He leans forward, placing his elbows on his knees and folding his hands under his chin.
You let that question sink in a little and end up thinking about your sobriety more than his words. “I think I’m about half clear up top by now?” you muse quietly.
“So about a 50/50 shot then. I’ll go ahead and explain it in simple terms for you,” Dirk says, sounding more like he’s confirming statistics with himself than actually speaking to you. “You hurt me, Jake.”
You wince reflexively upon hearing that. “I know-”
“I’m not finished.” He stops you mid apology. “I’m going to need you to listen and then you can speak after, ok?” You nod and swallow dryly, knowing you’re about to get to the thick of it. He takes another deep breath.
“You hurt me more this time than any previous argument or dispute. The way you left was just plain fucking rude, English. Out of the blue. No chance of redemption or working on it. Flat out, walked away from me. Do you have any idea how that felt? Did you even think about how that would seem to me? One day everything’s perfectly fine, and the next you’re asking to not see me anymore and saying that you need space. To clarify that it’s breakup space even, as if you think me incapable of understanding the look on your face or the weight of your words. It was like something out of a nightmare to see you look so thoroughly unaffected by walking away from me.” A sniffle comes from his direction, and that’s when you realize that you’d been staring down at your lap again and that he was now crying and trying to hide it.
“Oh, Plum, please don’t.” You mumble, your heart feeling like it was shattering to see him like this. You really did a number on him much worse than you’d imagined.
“Don’t call me that. You haven’t earned that back yet. Don’t act as though I’m already yours again. Like I’m just going to fucking cave that easy,” he snaps. “I don’t know if I can trust you again like I did before, Jake. I want to, believe me, I do. I want it to be that easy.”
“Why….” Your question hangs unfinished because even you aren’t sure what exactly you’re asking.
“I can’t just pretend like this never happened. We can’t just flip a switch on and off on our relationship. And you can’t just expect me to wait around for you whenever you get moody. If you want me to be less full on or want to do shit on our own every now and again, that’s fine. But don’t just fucking walk out on me like that.”
“Does that mean you’ll give me another chance?” you ask hesitantly, hopefully.
“I don’t know. I don’t have an answer for that right now,” he says, wiping a stray tear away from his own cheek. You wish you could do that for him, but somewhere in your brain you’re reminded that it wouldn’t be all that welcome right now.
“Are we- can we talk about it more tomorrow too?” You’re pushing your luck probably, but also you’re getting pretty tired.
“You mean later today? Probably, yea. Might be best if we weren’t in Roxy’s living room when we have the full, serious conversation.” His voice cracked a bit, and it just kills you to see how badly you really did hurt him. Somehow you know this is a fraction of how bad he’d been previously, and that rips you up even more inside.
You nod and force out a small smile before standing and going to the bathroom. When you come back he is curled up in the chair, making like he’s going to sleep there. You decide that just won’t fly.
“Take the couch, Dirk.” Your voice comes out a little more exhaustedly stern than intend, but you can’t exactly take it back once it’s out.
“You need it so you don’t get sick all over yourself if you wake up in the middle of the night,” he replies flatly.
“I’ll be just fine. I’m claiming the floor, so if you don’t take the couch it’ll go to waste.” You try again.
He just gets up from the chair wordlessly and stretches himself out on the couch. That’s better than another argument, you figure. You push the coffee table out a little more so that if he gets up in the night he won’t immediately step on your body. Then you grab some of the throw pillows from the loveseat and armchair and lay yourself down on the carpet.
It feels odd to just let things end off as they are presently, so you chirp a little, “Goodnight, Dirk,” before closing your eyes.
He mumbles back something you can hardly make out but assume is “goodnight” as well. Good enough for you, for now.
When you wake up you aren’t sure what time it is. All you know is that it’s too early for the sun to be up and that there’s a warm body against your back now and an arm around your waist. It doesn’t take a lot of brainpower to figure out that Dirk ditched the couch in favor of spooning you. For some reason your sleep-addled brain finds this humorous and you snort a little before rolling over and wrapping an arm around him to pull him in to your chest. You’re always the big spoon.
As you do so, he mumbles something in his sleep that you only recognize because it’s your name. You’d know those syllables on his lips no matter how mumbled or clear. You press your nose into his hair and place a soft kiss on the crown of his head, closing your eyes and just reveling in the moment. You aren’t sure when you’ll be like this with him again, and you almost feel guilty for letting it happen. But he was the one who left the couch and cuddled you first, it wasn’t like you were manipulating him or anything.
You let the heavy thoughts tuck themselves away and decided to focus on Dirk’s even breathing and the way he smells. You hadn’t realized just how much you’d missed those things in particular. Dipping back into dreamland isn’t hard after that.
The second time you awaken, it’s to significantly less pleasant circumstances. You and Dirk are both startled awake by a loud clattering noise. You wince and roll away from it and away from Dirk. He jumps up, ready to fucking attack whatever the hell is causing the racket. Roxy cackles and the noise ceases.
“Are you FUCKING kidding me?” Dirk all but screams. “Was that really necessary?” You try to crack your eyes open but the sunlight assaults them from the window, so you roll back to face Dirk’s feet now. You can’t be bothered to glance upwards to view the rest of him at the moment.
“It’s 2pm and it was either this or getting doused in cold water. I didn’t feel like cleaning the carpet.” Roxy’s voice comes from the kitchen area nonchalantly.
“So banging pans together was your solution?” Dirk asks, shoving a hand towards her in irritance. You manage to look up at him to catch the motion just in time and find it very amusing. Having your eyes open in this direction is much less painful and you’re still quite cozy on the floor.
“Oh come on Dirky, it’s not that bad. You know I could have chosen something worse like taking pictures of you two cuddled up all sweet with the camera flash on. That would have been somethin huh?” You can’t see her due to the couch being in the way, but you assume that she winked at the end of her question.
“I swear to christ Roxy. I know you and your sneaky word choices. You fucking took pictures without the flash, didn’t you?” Dirk snaps, though he sounds more irritated than mad really.
“Maaaybe. What’s it to you, mister grumpy pants?” Her singsong voice makes you laugh just a bit, and Dirk turns to pin you with a glare.
“What? You expected any less from her when we’re staying in her home?” You ask, looking rather sheepish.
“You could back me up here, she took pictures of us while we were sleeping, Jake. I don’t want that shit winding up on social media when she wishes one of us a happy birthday next and tries to embarrass us simultaneously.”
“There’s no proof of her doing that, and even so it’s not as if we were indisposed last night.” You shrug. You have little shame about photographs of you cuddling Dirk while fully clothed.
“Of course you’d be fine with it,” he mumbles before plopping back onto the couch. You can tell his words here hold no venom, so you don’t prod at them too much.
Instead you choose to finally sit up, and when you do your head screams at you to lay back down. You remember a good deal of last night, but there’s still some bits and pieces that aren’t so clear. The wince you let out is more than enough to clue Dirk and Roxy in on your current state.
“Need some ibuprofen, Indiana?” Roxy offers, voice sounding closer now. When you glance up she’s leaning on the back of the couch, perched just near Dirk’s left shoulder.
“That’d be too kind, I think. I might just deserve this bit after all the trouble I’ve caused.” You chuckle, and Dirk rolls his eyes.
“Go ahead and grab him two, Rox,” ye says and you give him a weak yet thankful smile.
“Not gonna let me get my cosmic retribution?” You jest.
“Not in the slightest,” Dirk says, but he’s smiling at you today and that makes things a hell of a lot better.
You take the pain meds and let Roxy and Dirk dote on you for another hour before you finally get the hell out of there. Roxy offers to give you and Dirk rides back home but you politely decline, preferring a walk and wanting the fresh air. Dirk joins you, and the two of you wind up at a cafe a couple blocks over instead.
What starts as simply getting coffee turns into a soiree relatively fast, and from there it only snowballs past coffee date and into a flat out date. You weren’t intending things to go the way they were, but you also certainly weren’t going to complain either. You liked this. Liked how easy it was to slip back into things with Dirk and have them feel normal and not strained.
He hadn’t even appeared to remember that he was supposed to still be upset with you, which was always a plus. Don’t get you wrong, you love everything about Dirk, but you especially loved the times when he could just live in the moment and not overthink everything. The times that he really let go and just relaxed.
Somehow the two of you wandered from the coffee shop and ended up downtown. From there things got really wild. The guy you’d almost beat up the night previous just happened to be walking down the street towards the two of you, which was clearly bad news. You hadn’t recognized him, but Dirk definitely had. He flipped his hood up and whipped the both of you around to walk in the other direction while filling you in. You tried to glance back, but Dirk stopped you, not wanting to provoke him.
“How well do you know the fellow anyway?” You ask just out of curiosity.
“Enough to know his name and that he has an anger problem that’s way out of his control,” Dirk all but whispers back.
“So the fight wasn’t actually my fault then,” you chirp happily.
“I didn’t say that. A man provoked will react regardless of their emotional control level, especially when intoxicated.” You hated when he was right and calculated like that.
“Ok so what do you propose we do then? We can’t reasonably just keep walking and hope he doesn’t spot me.”
Dirk looks around for a moment and then spits out a “Follow me” before darting a few paces up and turning down a tight alley between two buildings. You follow as directed but aren’t sure where he’s going with this. It’s still daylight out, and anyone who looked down could clearly see the two of you just standing there like shady teens.
“What now?” you ask before Dirk slaps a hand over your mouth. When he pulls it away you try again in a whisper this time. “Dirk, anyone can see us, what excuse do we have to be hiding back here?”
“This,” he says before fisting your shirt and pulling you to him, connecting your lips for what felt like the first time in a very long time, much longer than the reality of it. You just barely manage to catch yourself, an arm on each side of his head, boxing him in and basically pressing him to the wall. After a moment you realize that you’re still in shock and aren’t actually kissing him back. He pulls away and looks up at you, and you can see the panic in his eyes, like he thinks he’s fucked up.
“Warn a fellow, won’t you?” you whisper breathlessly against his lips before cupping his chin and kissing him for real this time.
From your memory, Dirk typically lets you take the reins and lead him, but today is different in that he seems more determined to keep the playing field level. Each time you nip at his lips he returns the action in kind, and he’s fisted the hair at the back of your neck, tugging at it every now and then to get your breath to hitch. You feel like it’s almost not fair because he knows just as many of your weak points as you do his, and his are less accessible at the moment and/or ones you’d rather not break the kiss for just yet.
Just as that thought passes through your mind he pulls back from you, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before kissing his way down to your neck. You’re vaguely aware that he’s also pressing you back against the other wall behind you now.
“Christ, Dirk.” You breathe out, but he promptly shuts you up by reeling back and pinning you with a sharp glare.
“No talking.” He bites out, somehow still keeping his volume to a whisper. You’ve never seen that kind of angry passion in his eyes before. It sort of terrifies you. You just nod at him and bite your own lip to show that you’ll give it your best.
That seems to be good enough for him, because he dives back down to your neck with pronounced speed, and you tilt your head back to let him. When his teeth latch onto your skin just above your collarbone, you have to reach up and bite into your knuckle to keep yourself from making any kind of noise. It burns in such a way that you want both to pull away from and lean into his teeth for more. He sucks a nice bruise into your skin as he unlatches, then he moves slightly lower and towards your shoulder, repeating the action and tugging sharply at your hair in between bites.
You feel a bit like you’re being teetered back and forth between two delicious pains and as much as you want to feel like it’s something you deserve, it’s too good to be intentionally painful. It’s too tender, too sweet, despite the paroxysm of anger threaded into his actions as well. You know a part of this is to get back at you for what you put him through.
Dirk makes maybe three or four more marks on you, your shirt now pulled to the side and off your shoulder a good deal. You’re just a tad weak in the knees, but that’s something you can live with since you’ve got your arms draped around Dirk’s shoulders. You chance a gander to the side, down the alleyway, and your brain briefly registers the colors of the sun setting and filling the space with a warm orange glow. Not a moment later you’re drawn back by Dirk grabbing your chin and turning you back to face him.
He clicks his tongue, seemingly in disappointment, and you refrain from chuckling because you know that he picked that up from you.
“Hm?” you muse aloud, mind very much up in the clouds. He slides his shades off his face and tucks them neatly into his back pocket, which you don’t think is very smart but you can’t think of a better spot for them at the moment. It doesn’t matter though because the look of his eyes in the afternoon sunset glow is ethereal, and you don’t think you could look anywhere else if you tried.
He says something to you, and you know this because his lips are moving. Honestly you’re too captivated to process his words though, everything going in one ear and out the other.
“Hm?” you ask again, letting out a huff of a chuckle at your own inattention. It’s a little funny to you that you get so distracted by him.
“God you weren’t even listening were you?” He rolls his eyes at you and just wow, watching that gold roll around in his skull is really a sight you’ve sorely missed.
“Not,” Your breath stutters, “at all. Sorry Pumpkin.” You try your luck with a grin, and he shakes his head at you.
“I said, I think the coast is clear now if you wanted to take this back to the apartment and hang out or pick up what we started….. If you want of course.” Seeing his eyes gives away just how meek and eager he is for the latter part of his suggestion.
“Do you want to?” you ask, just to be sure.
“Jake, look me in the eyes right now. If I didn’t want to, do you think I’d even offer?”
You absolutely already were looking him in the eyes.
“I suppose not.”
“So are you down, or are we done here?” He seems so very serious, and you hadn’t considered that make up sex would be something Dirk wanted. Clearly he did though, and you’d be a bastard if you lied and said you weren’t very much in the mood for that right now.
“I’m in.” You nod, and he fucking grins at you.
You may not be a smart man but you know a small handful of things now for sure.
The first? You absolutely love Dirk Strider’s eyes and being able to see them.
The second? That you absolutely are in love with Dirk Strider, and you need to work on communication when things get stifling because you can’t stand to lose him again.
The last? Well it’s more of a thing you were predicting, but, you’re going to devour this man as soon as the two of you step foot in that apartment once more. You couldn’t think of a single better homecoming than that.