Chapter Text
Dirk ==> Repair Squarewave.
You sit cross-legged on the floor, your brow furrowed in concentration, the handle of a pair of pliers clenched firmly between your teeth as your fingers gingerly pull and pluck at the wires contained in the metallic skull in front of you. Squarewave has been malfunctioning again, his words slurring most likely due to rusted, worn out wires, and his pistons firing off at a rate more obnoxious than usual, which you intend to fix next. Although you fail to see him, considering how absorbed you are in your work, you know Saw Tooth is looming in the shadows, ever protective of his equally mechanical companion. It was he who brought the issues to your attention in the first place, and you figure you owe it to the pair, seeing as you’ve been neglecting them as of late. You’ve had much more absorbing matters to be concerned with.
The familiar trill of Pesterchum crackles through your desktop speakers, and you look up from your work, wiping the back of your hand across your forehead. You’d answer with your shades, but they now lay on the top of your bedside table. You’ve had enough of your thirteen year old persona bothering you in the form of an artificial intelligence that had dubbed itself Hal. He’s been a prick in your backside since day one, and you fear he may be becoming too smart for his own good. But you shrug the thought away, instead picking yourself up and striding over to your mostly-tidy desk, albeit a few hard drives and spare wires scattered about. You sit down, taking a glance at the chumhandle. Ah, it seems that "absorbing matter" of yours is in the mood for a chat. You’d never admit it, but you smile internally at the screen name, fingers poised to answer.
Dirk ==> Respond to Jake.
-- golgothasTerror [GT] began pestering timeausTestified [TT] at [16:13] –-
GT: Strider!
You chuckle quietly at his familiar greeting. He can be incredibly endearing at times.
GT: Oh don’t tell me youre working on another one of those dang blasted inventions of yours.
GT: This is a *very* important matter!
An eyebrow cocks at that statement, but right as you’re about to respond, another message pops up.
GT: Im bored!
How impressive, English. You roll your eyes, fingers stalling. You glance over your shoulder, the sunlight through your window glinting off of your triangular shades, and an idea comes to mind. You can’t help but be curious; Hal blocks all of his conversations from you. It’s dishonest, but in your mind you have a right to know. You swiftly switch your text color from its usual orange to a bright red.
TT: That doesn’t seem like much of a problem, English.
TT: It seems you’re still unable to entertain yourself.
TT: Have you finally exhausted your seemingly endless supply of tacky movies?
Your nose wrinkles in disgust. You dislike being so obnoxious, but you have to keep up appearances if you want to pass this off.
GT: You again!
GT: Can we *please* avoid the usual infuriating conversation and just forward me to dirk?
TT: No can do, bro.
TT: You’ve been locked into an endless cycle of nothing but cheesy Christmas colors.
TT: Buckle yourself in, cowboy. This is going to be one hell of a bumpy ride.
Oh god, did you really just say that?
-- timeausTestified [TT] began pestering timeausTestified [TT] at [16:20] –-
You groan, irked that you hadn’t shut him off earlier. You quickly flick your color back to orange.
TT: Bronut, I don’t sound like that.
TT: You’d be surprised, but you actually do. You’ll find my impression is spot-on.
TT: At least throw in some sexual innuendos. My calculations indicate that 97.83% of all of the conversations between me and that buck-toothed asshole involve the topic of you two getting it on in some nasty way, shape, or form.
TT: I know; He’s complained about it more than once. I’m not stooping to that level of immaturity.
TT: It seems that although oblivious, there is an 86.53% chance that he’ll suspect something is up if you don’t throw in at least one sexual reference. Get this pistol pony rodeo off its sorry plush rump and into the metaphorical wasteland inside that oblivious prick’s imagination.
TT: He’ll get really flustered if you bring up your visage covered in bright blue paint. He’s got some weird kinks.
TT: Pistol pony rodeo? Really? Way to make us sound like some crappy 1980’s porno.
TT: It’s a talent.
TT: So it seems. Although you may be surprised to find that pathetic attempts at seducing Jake are severely lacking in my game plan.
TT: I just wanted to find out his thoughts on that kiss. He seemed flustered enough, but we’ve avoided that topic since.
TT: I fucking wonder why. Maybe it’s because he had to initiate some sloppy make outs with your bloody, disembodied head. How romantic.
TT: That of which you needlessly pestered him to do, might I add.
TT: I was trying to save your sorry asses.
TT: I had it covered.
Chimes from Jake’s chat window have been going off like crazy, and you finally click back to it. For fuck’s sake, he’s been ranting about your movie comment for the past five minutes. With a sigh, you switch back to red.
TT: Someone’s feeling long-winded today.
TT: I just wanted to ask something.
TT: A particular something, that is.
GT: ...
GT: Fine. Ask ahead.
TT: I’m just curious about what you thought about that kiss you and Dirk had. You know the one. Lips on lips, I’m sure you slipped some tongue in. He up and disappeared right after that; I know you haven’t forgotten.
You still feel guilty about that. You’d managed to rocket board back to Derse to your own time, leaving Roxy and Jane with Jake, for once panic coursing through you.
GT: I already *TOLD* you about that!
TT: Refresh my memory.
GT: Oh for bleeding sake alright.
You lean in slightly, intrigue and anxiety running through your system.
GT: It wasnt how imagined it to go between us thats for certain.
Your breath catches in your chest but you don’t hesitate to reply.
TT: So you thought about it, then. You and Dirk.
GT: Well i...well yes! Its not like im *object* to the idea of...us.
GT: I mean its not like i could just single him out away from everyone you know?
GT: Hes my best mate!
GT: In fact it makes him a more viable option in my opinion!
GT: He *does* know me best after all.
TT: So you like him.
A rare smile tugs at the corner of your lips but you see no real reason in hiding it this time. It’s not as if anyone can see you right now.
GT: I...
GT: I suppose yes.
TT: It seems you’re holding back.
You desperately hope he is; More than you’d like to admit.
GT: ...
GT: Youre such a pesky bugger.
GT: Why do you want to know?
TT: Because I know for a fact he’s raring for some English d. And by d, I mean your strange fleshy, human dick.
Your hands freeze. You didn’t type that.
GT: *HAL*!
GT: Christ cringlefucker i dont think id go as far as *that* just yet!
GT: *tugs at collar*
You shoot a glare at your discarded shades. Of course he’d interject. You’re tempted to try and shut him off without warning, but you know he’ll override your control and block you.
TT: Don’t lie, I know what nasty thoughts go through your head. It seems the image of him coated in a lovely shade of cerulean paint send a shiver right through to those booty shorts you’re so fond of wearing.
GT: !!!
Okay, now he’s gone and done it. You make to get up but Hal swiftly replies, another flash of red catching your attention. He must have his cameras on.
TT: Despite whatever freaktastic fetishes you have, broseph, I’m serious about those questions.
TT: Tell your macabroni and cheese all about those sweet feels you’ve got going on for my main man.
TT: There’s a 98.65% chance your little tsundere brokokoro is totally going Dirky Dirky right about now.
Oh my god.
It’s taking him a bit to reply; You’re starting to think Hal scared him off, so you change back to orange yet again, clicking to the other chat window.
TT: If you fuck this up, I’m snapping you in half.
TT: Relax, micbrowave. I’ve got this.
You settle back into your chair, arms crossed as you scrutinize the screen. In all honesty, you’re more than a little anxious. Your fingers itch to tinker with something or another; a bit of a nervous tick you’d developed as a child, raising yourself alone in a penthouse in the middle of the ocean. Rather than attempting to deal with such emotions, fidding around with Saw Tooth and Squarewave tend to take up most of your time, and you’re tempted to go back to your previous work of repairing the latter. However, another message finally pops up on your screen; A rather long, green one, to be precise.
GT: ...Im more than a tad embarrassed by it now but i dont really see the point in attempting to bluff how i feel so...alright. Its nice to finally tell someone you know? Even if its an alternate intelligence based off my best friend! Its better than nothing. Looking back i suppose those *really* concrete feelings developed after that whole...incident. But its not like i didnt think about it before! It came to mind quite a bit in all honesty. After a while i just sort of quietly accepted it. Im not object to the male gender...i mean its not as if ive never found any bloke to be awful dashing or dreadfully handsome or whatever. I just…it seems a bit *different* with dirk. Hes *always* been there for me and although he built that goshdarned brobot specifically to kick my sorry arse i know he was just trying to prepare me for the game! He cares a whole bleeding hell of a lot and its an incredibly nice feeling to know that. Thinking about it i suppose it isnt unreasonable at all for me to have developed some sort of romantic attraction toward that infamously stoic best bro of mine...although it *does* make me nervous as hell when i realize were about to start the game and whatnot! What will i do when i see him again? He ran off so bleeding fast when he saw me snogging...well you obviously know! Ill...i admit i got a bit more passionate about it then i had intended but you riled me up and i couldnt help but imagine how badass it must have looked! Like a scene from one of my movies!
GT: But knowing how he is he probably didnt think of it like that... Hes always so levelheaded and i dont know how he does it! Perhaps ive just got my head in the clouds again...
You feel a bit light headed when you finally finish reading the lengthy confession for something like the fifth time, and you realize you’d forgotten how to breathe. Oh my god he hit character limit. Writing about his feelings for you.
TT: It seems English isn’t the only one with his head in the clouds.
-- timeausTestified [TT] ceased pestering timeausTestified [TT] at [16:36] –-
You can feel the tips of your ears burn at the snarky comment and you close Hal’s chat window. Jake English, wonderboy extraordinaire, considers you as more than just a bro. Suddenly you’re a hell of a lot more nervous to see his face again. What if you mess up? It’s not as if charisma and romance are exactly your forte. You’ve never been in a romantic situation before, but then again, neither has he. At least you’ll both be bumbling, awkward teenagers, although you suppose you’ll be better mentally equipped for bedroom shenanigans. You pause, furrowing your brow. Will things even progress that far? Shaking your head, you stop yourself; You’re thinking way too far ahead here. You haven’t even attempted wooing the guy and you’re already concerned with getting in his pants.
You realize you’ve been taking far too long when you look up at your screen, Hal having replied for you.
TT: Hold your fucking horses there, broster. I sense a 73.56% chance you’re about to pussy out on this. I’d calculate your chances of Dirk reciprocating those disgustingly endearing emotions of yours, but I already know it’s 1f10%. The “f” was for “fucking,” if your slow human processor couldn’t figure that out.
TT: But seriously, don’t worry about it. Just shoot him that stupid double-pistoled-wink bullshit he’s so fond of, and his kuudere façade will melt and you’ll be left with his true kawaii blushu dandere personality he’s too insecure to show.
Insecure? Oh hell no, Hal has you labeled all wrong.
You're tempted to interject but you restrain yourself; You know he's only saying such things to rile the two of you up, and you have to admit he's awfully good at it. All the same, you continue watching the scene as more heartfelt confessions unflold, your cheeks heating up at the words. If only he knew who was carefully reading each message.