Work Text:
The Burger King sits looming in front of your beat up truck as it sits parked in the parking lot. Your calloused hands rest on the steering wheel, resisting the urge to grip the black leather with white knuckles. Your flat ass staying firmly planted in the unbearably hot seat in the unbearably hot car due to one specific reason.
A certain cherub, his cheeks permanently red with venom, is practically bouncing up and down in the passenger seat as he attempts to wrangle the car door open, despite it not yet being unlocked.
CALIBORN: THE HELL ARE YOu WAITING FOR? YOu SAYED. YOU WILL BuY ALL THE BuRGER I. DESIRE.
Yes. You had promised that. The reason doesn’t really matter to you at this current moment, but you had promised to buy Caliborn all the Burger King burgers he wanted.
And it was a mistake, he’s going to ransack the place.
DIRK: I’m not saying I won't.
DIRK: But just try to not make my wallet empty. I’m already almost bankrupt as it is, thanks to all the fines I have to pay for you.
CALIBORN: WHAT THE FuCK. NO. THAT WASN’T PART OF THE RuLES. YOu SAID. YOu WILL BuY IT ALL. NO BuTS.
DIRK: ...You’re right.
DIRK: I’m just suggesting it, it’s not a “rule”. You can go ham wild, but I might look at you like a kicked puppy afterward.
CALIBORN: I HAVE NOT ONCE SEEN YOu LOOK “SAD”.
You lower the corner of your lips into a small frown, along with your eyebrows. You even take off your shades for emphasis as you turn to face Caliborn fully.
Caliborn expression changes into one you can’t exactly pinpoint, which is any that isn’t maniacal glee or frustration, and you know you’ve done it right. He averts his eyes as you put your shades back on.
CALIBORN: MAYBE.
CALIBORN: BuT NO PROMISES. STRIDER.
DIRK: Fair enough.
You unlock the car doors, and the moment Caliborn hears the locks click open he grasps the car handle, claws scraping the already scratched vinyl. He takes a few moments to actually wrangle the door open, and you can hear the hinges creak as he slams his whole body against the metal door to open it all the way.
Half the reason your car is so worn down is because of Caliborn, you note, and not because of the gradual progression of Time. You think about that as you watch the cherub tumble out of the now-open door and onto the asphalt of the parking lot.
CALIBORN: GuH.
DIRK: You really should start getting out normally, it’d save you a lot of trouble.
You move your hand to your side to open your seatbelt, watching the passenger door as Caliborn quickly stands up and flips you off with both hands. All you do is chuckle a little and grab your keys from the ignition, and when you clip it back to a keyring you sew into your front pocket it times up with when Caliborn slams the door hard enough to shake the truck a little.
You open the door and step out, the heels of your boots clicking against the asphalt as you walk to the other side of the truck. Caliborn meets you halfway, though, bumping into you as he speeds to the glass doors of the Burger King building.
You turn and run after him, catching up and almost bumping into him as he stops at the counter to stare down the menu. Stumbling to a stop, you put a hand on his shoulder for leverage which he promptly swats away once you’re not practically fallen over already.
DIRK: So. Uh.
You lean over a bit, close to him to find out what he’s looking at.
DIRK: What’re you eyeing?
He leans closer to you as well, and the sides of your heads bump into each other. He whispers, and you can almost smell the overwhelming scent of candy on his breath.
CALIBORN: (HOW MANY BOONBuCKS DO YOu HAVE?)
That’s... a good question actually. You dig through your back pocket first, and promptly realize you forgot to grab your wallet on your way out. You dig through your other pockets and you’re only able to conjure about 4 bucks in spare change.
That isn’t even enough for a singular burger (despite it being enough for 4 in the last ‘eat burger’ fanfic, fuck multiversal inflation), and Caliborn notices. He looks at the change in your palm, grimaces, and puts another 1.50 (purely in dimes) in your hand. That’s enough for one.
DIRK: Sorry Cal’. Guess you’re only getting one today.
Caliborn looks like he wants to bite you, or bite anyone really. He glares at you and crosses his arms, snarling a bit and revealing his fangs to the air.
DIRK: I’ll buy you all you want tomorrow, I forgot my walle-
CALIBORN: NO. WE WILL SHARE.
DIRK: ...Huh.
You move your hand to put the change back in your pocket, but Caliborn pushes your hand back to where it was before.
CALIBORN: WE WILL SHARE. THE BuRGER, DIRK.
CALIBORN: IT’S MY BIG DAY. DIRK. DON’T DENY THE BIRTHDAY BOY.
DIRK: It’s not your-
You sigh, no reason to deny him. You can just cut it in half or something.
DIRK: ...Fine. Go sit down, I'll order it.
Caliborn marches over to a table as far away from everyone else as possible, and you order your one burger and go to sit down next to him.
Caliborn grabs the burger from your hands and tears off the wrapping with his fangs. He holds up the burger in between you two. You tilt your head.
DIRK: What are you asking me to do here?
CALIBORN: HAVE YOu SEEN THAT MOVIE. WITH THE DOGS. AND THE SPAGETITHI?
DIRK: Lady and the Tramp?
CALIBORN: SHUt the FuCK uP. THE MOVIE. WITH THE DOGS.
CALIBORN: THE BuRGER WILL BE OuR SPAGETHTI, DIRK.
CALIBORN: AND WE ARE THE HOuNDS.
DIRK: Dude, no.
Caliborn holds the burger closer to your face, so you scoot away so you're out of his reach.
DIRK: How would that even work, first of all.
CALIBORN: WE MAKE IT WORK, STRIDER.
DIRK: Second, no.
CALIBORN: YES. EAT THE BuRGER WITH ME.
Caliborn gets up out of his seat a bit so he can push the burger to you, the sauce almost gets into your eyes so you lightly push his hand away.
CALIBORN: WE ARE THE CANINES.
DIRK: Dude.
CALIBORN: I WILL NOT REPEAT.
CALIBORN: EAT THE BuRGER.
CALIBORN: LIKE THE DOGS. WITH THE SPAGHEHTIT.
You huff, giving in.
DIRK: Fine.
CALIBORN: A-HAA HAA! HEE HEE HOO HOO!
CALIBORN: YESSSSS.
Caliborn starts eating the burger, you just take little nibbles whenever he looks at you. Unlike the previous installation, I am not writing out the details partially due to the reason I am typing this in the middle of biology.
Eventually, Caliborn eats pretty much all of the burger, and he stands up and cheers.
CALIBORN: I WIN! I WIN! I WIN!
CALIBORN: YOu LOST THE RACE, DIRK. I’M SUPERIOR.
DIRK: Okay then.
DIRK: You do know the dogs kiss at the end of the spaghetti scene, right?
CALIBORN: EW.
CALIBORN: NO. FuCK OFF.