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It’s late at night when Dib hears his bedroom window creak open, followed by the distinct clicking of PAK legs. He’s not asleep yet, but must appear that way to the Irken, given his uncharacteristically silent entrance. Zim enters on his PAK legs, carefully suspending himself over the bed. It’s not exactly uncommon for Zim to come by unannounced: since the two had “truced”- which really meant they stopped trying to kill eachother and started hanging out- , the alien seemed remarkably comfortable entering Dib’s territory. He hovers there silently, and Dib gets the impression he’s being stared at.
“I have two windows, you know,” Dib shifts onto his back, opening his eyes to see glowing ruby ones peering back. “You don’t have to use the one right over my bed.”
“You’re awake?” Zim says. “Shouldn’t you be getting your stupid human sleep by now?” Zim sets himself down by the side of the bed, Dib sits up as well.
“I was trying to.” Dib grabs his glasses from the nearby desk and puts them on. “Do you want something, or did you just come to watch me sleep?”
“The sleep thing.”
Dib blinks. “Ooookay, that’s… Creepy.” Would be unnerving, if he didn’t tend to creep on the alien himself.
“I know, right?”
“Why are you watching me sleep?”
“Oh, yeah. I get bored at night. Watching you mutter and toss and turn is mildly more entertaining than waiting for it to be day.”
“Of course you’d think that…” Dib sighs, thoroughly used to Zim’s oddities by now. He glances between Zim and his alarm clock, which reads 1:00 a.m. He doesn’t think he’ll be getting to sleep anytime soon. “Well since you’re so bored, and I’m already awake, do you wanna sleep over?”
“Why would I want to sleep with you, boy-thing?” Zim squints quizzically.
“Oh my god, don’t say it like that-” Dib flusters. “-Uhm, because it’s something normal human teens do… and... stuff?” He appeals, voice becoming unsure. Why does he even care if Zim stays? “And I’ve never had a sleepover before, so…”
Zim hums, folding his arms. “Very well. Zim will partake in this… ‘Sleep-over’,” He makes quotes with his claws, “So that I may become even more normal!”
The ex-invader slips off his boots, promptly climbing onto Dib’s bed. Zim wastes no time making himself comfortable.
“This nest reeks of you, Dib-creature,” Zim complains, flattening the sheets below him.
“Because it’s my bed? And I know you know it’s called a bed.” Dib gets up to go dig through his closet. Zim perks his head up, watching curiously.
“Here.” Dib chucks a shirt at Zim, the alien yelping as it smacks him in the face.
Zim holds the shirt in front of him, antennae bowing forward to inspect it. It’s one of Dib’s older sleep shirts, probably chosen so it would fit the small Irken. “What’s this?”
“Pajamas,” Dib walks back over to his bed, taking a seat next to Zim.
Zim chuffs. “Zim doesn’t need your frivolous sleep clothes.” He turns the garment in his hands nonetheless.
“It’s a sleepover, you gotta wear pajamas. And sleeping in that uniform can’t be comfortable.”
“It’s not made to be comfortable,” Zim sneers, and before Dib processes what’s happening the uniform top is coming off.
“J-jesus, Zim, you can’t just-!” Dib splutters, quickly averting his eyes. It’s not like Zim has anything he needs to cover up, but still!
“Eh?” Zim’s antennae raise confusedly, before he realizes the reason for Dib’s reaction. “You humans and your modesty…” Zim tuts, slipping the sleep shirt on. It’s certainly a lot less clingy than his Invader uniform… The fabric seems smoother against his skin. Hm.
“You’re welcome, by the way,” Dib huffs, and the alien hums in response. He looks over at Zim. He’s almost never seen Zim wear anything but his uniform; the sight of him in Dib’s clothes is kind of cute interesting. Zim rubs the hem of the shirt thoughtfully for a moment, then slips his gloves off, feeling the fabric between his fingers. Suddenly, Dib has a lot of questions about Zim’s hands.
“Woah, you have pads on your hands?” Dib tugs Zim’s wrist closer to him, getting a surprised chirp out of the Irken. He’s never seen Zim take off his gloves before. He pushes Zim’s sleeve up, fascinated to find his limbs are far more buggy than he would’ve thought. Most of his forearm is a black, chitinous material, a more familiar green on his palms and fingertips. “That’s cool, you’re like a space bug! I wonder how many physiological similarities you share with Earth species… Oh man, I’ve gotta update my theory board…” Dib brushes a thumb across his palm, Zim chitters and jolts back.
“Crap, did that hurt you?”
“As if I’d be harmed by something so miniscule,” Zim huffs. “I just wasn’t anticipating the contact, that is all! You were saying how cool Zim was?”
“I was saying, it’s interesting how insectoid you are.” Dib fiddles with Zim’s fingers, bending the segmented joints experimentally. “I always thought you’d be more lizard-y, you kinda sound like one.”
“How dare you compare my beautiful voice to your Urth reptiles!”
“You hiss at me every day, man!”
“So?”
“Oh forget it.” Dib groans, shifting his focus down to the hand in his grasp. He runs his fingers over the soft pads more deliberately, making the Irken twitch. Sensitive, then. “I’m guessing that’s why you always wear gloves?”
“You’d be correct,” Zim breathes, “I can’t imagine what life would be like just- feeling textures all the time.”
“That’s basically how humans live,” Dib says, rubbing circles into Zim’s palm idly. Zim trills, squinting his eyes shut.
“Mm. Iss’at why your digits are so rough?”
“Yeah, I guess. They get calloused the more you use them, so…” He trails off, feelling something tangle with his cowlick. When he looks up, Zim’s face is far closer than it was before. “...Your antennae are in my hair.”
“Hmm…?” Zim cracks an eye open, staring for a moment, before shooting both open and whipping his antennae back, startling Dib. “LIES! YOU’RE FULL OF LIES!” He whisper-shouts, voicing his outrage without invoking the Gaz-sister’s wrath.
“What, is that embarrassing or something?” Dib lets out a bewildered laugh, letting Zim’s wrist slip out of his grip.
“You know nothing stupid stink boy filth smelly!” Zim jabs a claw at the taller boy. “You could only ever dream of receiving such a show of affection from Zim!”
Dib’s brain grips the word affection in a vice. Which it shouldn’t, because he doesn’t even want it. “So I guess they were drooping forward for no reason, huh?” He distracts himself, running a finger along one of them.
“Yes, they were,” Zim hisses, pushing his head into Dib’s hand. “Not because I liked your petting.”
Dib huffs out a laugh. “Uh-huh. And I’m guessing you don’t like this either?” He strokes one of his antennae, rubbing at the base.
"Not in the slightest," He clicks pleasantly, leaning his weight onto Dib. "I should destroy you for even daring to touch me."
"Can it wait until morning?" Dib says, shifting so the both of them are lying down, facing each other. Zim takes the opportunity to bury his face in the crook of Dib's neck, heavy purring starting up. It's soothing.
"I suppose..." the alien sighs, appreciating the weight of Dib's arms around him. He combs his fingers through the human's hair, enjoying the texture. "Yes, it can wait."