Work Text:
Your name is Dirk Strider, and you know today is the day. The day that you’ll finally tell the boy of your dreams that you actually like him more than you let on for the first few years of your friendship, and hope like mad that he doesn’t mind the fact that you have a major-league crush on him. The thought doesn’t even pass your mind that maybe, just maybe, he somewhat likes you too – that would involve actually him liking guys in the first place, and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t. You’ve prided yourself on your amazing gaydar, and it never really occurred to you that the lonely island boy had a possible fondness for his own gender. Besides, you’re the Prince of Heart, not the Prince of Hope; Jake English is the boy who’s got the Hope title already, and you’re pretty sure there aren’t any sorts of switches when it comes to session titles.
Of course, your ultimatum makes it hard for you to sleep that night. All you can do is think about how you’ll be telling him tomorrow, and how you so desperately want English to be okay with it, in the very least. There is no reason he wouldn’t; he seemed to be all right about his homosexuality, though you’re not entirely sure if he’s completely aware, even though your auto-responder flirts with him often, and he is supposed to match your pattern of speaking 96% or something similar to that. Jake can be pretty oblivious, and that’s what you’re hoping against. It’ll make everything easier.
You decide that you can’t go to sleep, and you don’t even really want to try anymore. You climb out of bed, propping Lil Cal up against your bedroom wall, and walk over to your computer, starting to boot it up. Everything has been so quiet ever since your brother died, and you sometimes don’t even know how you can take it; you have to take care of everything for yourself, and you just feel so damn lonely sometimes. When you were younger, you used to cry about it, but you’ve learned better.
You watch as your computer boots up, automatically launching that familiar program that he would sometimes stare at for hours on end, waiting for one specific name to log on. Of course, that was the only name that was logged on at this point – golgothasTerror was currently signed in. You glance at the clock, which reads one in the morning. So it was late for the young Jake English to be on, even factoring in the time difference.
You decide to investigate.
timaeusTestified [TT] pestered golgothasTerror [GT] at 1:24
TT: Isn’t late for you over there, English?
TT: What are you doing up still?
GT: Oh hello strider!
GT: Ive been having a speck of trouble with sleeping.
TT: Tell me of this trouble, if that’s the case.
GT: Oh i couldnt!
GT: Its a pesky botherance nothing for you to need to get involved in.
TT: I’m having a bit of trouble getting to sleep too.
TT: It’ll help me find this mystical land of sheep and fences.
GT: Oh all right.
GT: Ive been having nightmares quite frequently strider.
GT: They only started after my dream self died however!
TT: Oh, you’re probably starting to get into the world of dream bubbles and that shit.
TT: It’ll calm down eventually, and you’ll be seeing a lot of people, though many of them will be dead or asleep.
GT: Is this a bad thing?
TT: Not even in the slightest.
GT: All right if you insist strider.
TT: I do, in fact.
GT: And how about you? What are you still doing awake at this time of the nightmorning eh strider?
TT: I was just having some troubles getting to sleep is all.
TT: Nothin’ of much importance, yo.
GT: Oh all right.
GT: Ill let you go on your way with that shit answer i suppose.
GT: But i do know that theres something more to it and i will find out what it is if its the last thing i do!
TT: I appreciate the concern, English, but it’s really nothing interesting.
GT: Oh hush already.
You aren’t sure where to go from there. You sit there, staring at the screen for a few more moments, trying to figure out if he’s going to reply, or, if he doesn’t, what a possible choice could be for the next topic of conversation.
TT: Does it ever get lonely on your island?
GT: What?
TT: You have no one else there with you. Does it ever get lonely?
GT: Yeah i suppose. Ive also got various animals wandering around that can keep me company though.
TT: But they don’t really match up with human interaction.
GT: Yeah pretty much.
TT: And if I told you I knew a way to get me over there?
You had came up with this idea not too long ago, and you were merely waiting for the right time to bring it out.
GT: Then id welcome you into my humble abode.
GT: Simple as that.
GT: Why have you figured out a way to shift across this enormous distance between us?
TT: I might have.
TT: Just get ready for if I end up arriving over there.
TT: I’ll message you if it doesn’t work.
timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering golgothasTerror [GT]
This is it. This is the moment you’ve been waiting for. You quickly tinker with a few of your machines, and then off you go, teleporting all the way over to where Jake is.
You’ve seen pictures of Jake English, but he’s even more gorgeous in person. Especially with the fact that he was clad in only his pajamas, which consisted of a pair of long fleece pajama bottoms with skulls all over it. You vaguely recall giving those to him for his birthday a year ago; the fact that he still wears is makes you incredibly happy.
“Welcome to my humble abode, Mr. Strider!” Jake said, standing up from his bed and taking off the helmet that he was messaging you with, walking over and hugging you tightly. Much tighter than you expected, but you still reciprocate the hug with a tight one of your own. “I apologize for the mess, I wasn’t entirely expecting any company, as I’m sure you’re aware.”
“Yeah, it’s all right,” you reply. “My place is much messier than this on a regular basis, so this is fine.” You can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you speak – this is the moment that you’ve been waiting for since you met Jake in the first place, and it’s starting off boringly.
You smile at him, stretching. How hard could it be? Just say those three simple words. And yet, you can’t bring yourself to open your mouth in order to say the words. As a result, there is a few moments of awkward silence. Jake appears to be searching in his head for a possible topic of conversation, but nothing is coming up.
“Did you want to wrestle?” you ask – and you wonder why you even said it in the first place. You fight back a blush, while Jake grins widely at you.
“That would be spectacular!” he replies, slipping his jacket off and throwing it onto his bed. “I’ve been wrestling with your robot, but that’s not enough sometimes – I think it’d be cooler if it was with a real person.” He also slipped off his shirt, tossing it on top of the bed. Somehow, you’re able to keep your blush from showing, though you hesitate in taking off your own shirt. Jake blinks, tilting his head at you. “You okay there, Dirk? You’re not embarrassed of your body, right?”
“Fuck no,” you reply, stripping off your shirt and tossing it to the side. “I was merely distracted in planning out the steps I’ll be taking to beat you.” You give a grin at the love of your life, and he replies with a like-minded grin – before lunging towards you. The match has begun.
And yet, before long, you find yourself under Jake, with him completely and utterly dominating you. You don’t understand what happened; you must have gotten distracted by his muscular body pressing against your own, by those grunts of exertion that could have been mistaken for something else. Whatever it was, it’s resulted in your loss, and he’s on top of you now, looking down at you with a smug look.
And then you realize that you’re hard.
You probably only have moments before he realizes. And you had such a wonderous way to go about this. But now you have to abandon everything and wing it.
You lean up and kiss him.
It takes a moment for it to register on his face; he probably doesn’t even know what the hell happened until he makes a face, probably mirroring his inward feelings.
His face shows incredulity – and maybe a tiny hint of disgust. He quickly jumps off of you, grabbing his shirt and beginning to tug it on. His perfect, chiseled cheeks have a faint dusting of pink on them, and you realize that you’ve caught him off guard.
“What…why…Dirk?” he finally says after a few moments, barely even looking at you. His voice sounds confused; he wants you to explain it to him. And he doesn’t want it to be the answer that he thinks it is. But there’s no way to save yourself here.
“I’m sorry, Jake,” you murmur, getting up off the floor. “I…I love you.” You’re quiet, but he can still hear you. You can see him start to steel himself to turn you down, and you shake your head to cut him off. “No, let me finish.” He closes his mouth once more.
Now where do you go? You just didn’t want him to say those words, the ones that you’ve been dreading all this time. I’m not gay, Dirk. I can never love you like you love me. But now that you’ve stopped him…what else will you say?
“I know. I know what you’re going to say,” you mumble, grabbing your shirt. “I know you’re going to say that you don’t have the same feelings for me, that you can’t because you’re not a fucking homosexual, or some shit like that.” You don’t mean to be angry, but you can’t help the curses from filtering out. “Don’t. Please, just don’t. I’ll never try anything again. Let’s please, just forget this happened. I can’t say I’ll do my best to pretend I don’t have feelings for you, because I do. I love you, and that’s the fact. But you can’t love me the same way, so please, just let us be friends. I’m fine with just remaining the best fucking bros anyone could ever have. You might be able to forget, too. Who the fuck knows? But don’t look at me any differently than you did today, please. I beg of you. Because I won’t be able to stand being distanced from you like that, where I can’t even be friends with you anymore because of a pesky little thing called love.” You tug your shirt on finally. “Just don’t fucking do this to me. If you never do anything else, please, just…let me be friends with you.”
It was tense. Jake didn’t respond immediately, and you didn’t know what to do. Did you wait for him to make an answer, or did you push on and just leave? Maybe he’d message you tomorrow or something, with an answer. Probably with a no, but it’d be an answer.
“Yes.”
You look up and meet Jake’s eyes. Jake bites his lip before continuing. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Strider. I really goshdarn don’t. I can never promise you that I’ll be able to reciprocate your emotions, but by golly, I…don’t know. Everything’s confusing in my head, and I don’t know what I want. I don’t know if I ever will. But what I do knowsay is that I would hate to not be your friend, Strider. You’re my best bro.” And with that, Jake gave you that smile – the smile you’d remember for the rest of your life.
The smile that gave you hope.
—-
Your name is Dirk Strider, and you’re not a hero.
That’s the one thing that you know for a fact about yourself. You’re not a hero, and you never will be. So when you were upgraded to god tier, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to be killed any time soon; you wouldn’t be doing anything heroic, and you wouldn’t need to be punished for any wrongdoings. The universe would never be rid of you.
And neither would Jake, by proxy. Your friendship has evolved since that one fateful day, and you two have grown closer. But it hasn’t changed; you’re only friends, even if you’re some of the best friends in the entire fucking universe.
And you’re okay with that. Jake never looked at you any differently after that day, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he actually forgot about that day. So much had happened since that day, you never expected him to remember it. In fact, you were hoping against him remembering, to be frank.
What else do bros do, other than back each other up in battles? So that’s what you and Jake are doing right now, with him taking care of enemies far away, and you getting rid of all of the ones that he didn’t get with your trusty katana. It was a perfect battle strategy, with you in your Prince of Love outfit (which somehow made you feel even more gay than you actually were – and you thought you looked awesome) and him in some ridiculous outfit he prototyped a while ago.
But everything has a flaw.
You see it before he does, and even you saw it too late. One of the minions has made it past both of you, and is sneaking up on Jake in order to kill him. You have to think fast – so what else would you do than shove him out of the way. The minion stabs you almost simultaneously as you slicing off its head. It falls to the floor, head rolling about off the side, while the body slowly crumples to the ground.
Jake sees the dead minion first. “Oh, brilliant work, Strider!” he exclaims, patting you on the shoulder. He opens his mouth to compliment you more – and then he sees the knife jutting out of you in your stomach. “Dirk…!” His concerned voice is the thing that knocks your legs out from under you, and you try to keep yourself on your knees. But it’s so hard, and everything just hurts. But you’re not allowed to give up; the god tier powers will kick in any moment now.
But they don’t. You numbly realize that you sacrificed yourself in order to protect Jake – thus fulfilling the “heroic death” requirement. You’re ready to die.
Jake isn’t ready for you to die. As you start to fall backwards, he goes on his knees and catches you, pulling the knife out of your stomach quickly and tossing it to the side. “Dirk devilfucking Strider, you will get up now,” Jake says, applying pressure to the bleeding wound. “You’re not allowed to die. I forbid it.”
“I’m sorry, Jake,” you say, but it comes out a bit gargled. He shakes his head, and you notice that he’s beginning to cry. You reach up and wipe away the tears from his cheek. “Don’t you cry over me, I’m not worth you sacrificing your beauty for.” You decide to fuck it, you’ll flirt with him all you want now. It’s your last few moments, you’re allowed to flirt if you really want. But he doesn’t seem bothered by the flirting; he’s still crying, and he grips you tighter.
“Don’t you dare leave me, Dirk Strider,” Jake hisses at you. “I’ll kill you if you leave me, Strider. Don’t you dare die.” He let out a small sob, and he shook his head. “I love you, Dirk Strider. If you just live, I swear to you, I’ll be your boyfriend, and I’ll kiss you, and I’ll make you happy, just please, don’t die.”
Smack. Jake looks up in shock as you slap him, with a large element of confusion also mixed in. “Shut up, Jake,” you reply. “You and I both know you don’t really love me. You just don’t want me to die, and this is the way you think up.”
Jake shakes his head vigorously and leans in to kiss you deeply, passionately. Smack. Once again, you slap him, and now he’s more angry than upset.
“I won’t let you do this to yourself, Jake,” you reply. “You don’t love me like that. You love being friends with me. You don’t love me.” By this point, he’s crying, tears practically washing you – one final ablution. What a good send off. You lean up and kiss him on the cheek gently. “Thank you, Jake. For some amazing fucking years.”
Your name is Dirk Strider, and you have died a hero.