Chapter Text
If there was one thing that had gotten Dinesh into trouble over the course of his thirty-one years, it was wanting to be liked. To be more precise, wanting to be liked and letting somebody find out. That was a sure recipe for embarrassment. He tried his best to bury all desire for affection, platonic or otherwise. Whatever crumbs the universe saw fit to spill at Dinesh's feet were all he was getting.
When he met Gilfoyle, he was forced to adjust his perspective. Because Gilfoyle knew; he always knew. It had shamed and alarmed Dinesh at first to realize the full extent of Gilfoyle's surveillance superpowers. Eyes tracked his eyes morning and evening, every time a girl passed them on the street, ears perking up whenever Dinesh, in conversation with a woman for once, gave himself away, that great big nose sniffing out the secrets of Dinesh's heart like a judgmental Doberman.
But eventually, Dinesh had gotten used to it. It was okay if Gilfoyle caught him from time to time. Being caught felt a little bit good, to be honest. Saved him some running, anyway.
They had arrived at the Hacker Hostel within a few weeks of each other some years ago. At six or seven on a Friday night, just after Gilfoyle had moved in, Dinesh had been sitting in the living room with Richard, Bighead, and Erlich, trying to be a part of the conversation.
"Yeah," Erlich was saying, "I was a three sport athlete in high school. Until I hurt my knee, of course."
"Wow," said Bighead. "I just played soccer. It was fun though."
"It's important for kids growing up to learn discipline," said Erlich.
"Yeah," said Dinesh. "I had to practice the piano an hour a day for ten years growing up."
Erlich scoffed at him. "Did you really just compare playing the piano to an actual sport?"
"Oh ... no, of course not," said Dinesh.
Gilfoyle had entered the room, looked the other four up and down, and shot Dinesh a look that made him feel naked.
"Hey Oxford, you play chess?"
"Sure, I love chess," Dinesh had said, because he didn't really know Gilfoyle yet.
"I've got a set in my room," Gilfoyle said.
Dinesh won the first game easily. Gilfoyle didn't seem to know what he was doing at all. He didn't even move his queen, just left it sitting there next to the king for the whole game.
"So, how are you finding the house?" Dinesh asked politely.
Gilfoyle shrugged.
"You're from Canada, right?" Dinesh continued. "Is it nice there?"
"Look, fuck pleasantries," said Gilfoyle. "You and I are going to be friends. You don't need to be all sweet to me to convince me. You're lonely; I'm lonely; we live together now; we're friends. Done."
Dinesh frowned. "What makes you think I'm -"
"I have eyes," said Gilfoyle.
Dinesh smiled nervously. "Well, you're not wrong. I appreciate the offer, but ... can you just decide that?"
"Sure can," said Gilfoyle.
"And what if I say no?" asked Dinesh. "You're just going to keep being nice to me anyway?"
"I never said I was going to be nice to you," said Gilfoyle. "I said we were going to be friends."
"And to you that means ..." Dinesh prompted him.
Gilfoyle smirked. "You'll see."
The next game of chess, Dinesh realized he'd been hustled.
"Did you lose on purpose last game?"
"What can I say?" said Gilfoyle. "I'm a very inconsistent player."
"Why though?" said Dinesh. "We didn't even bet money on the game."
"I wanted to see how you moved when you felt confident," said Gilfoyle.
"So you can beat me more easily in the future?" asked Dinesh.
Gilfoyle grinned. "I didn't mean the chess pieces."
Time passed. With Gilfoyle in the house, Dinesh carried a new feeling in his heart, a feeling of belonging, a confidence in the acceptability of his own existence, a place to stand when he entered a room.
A couple months later, he tried to casually ask Gilfoyle if he had any plans for Valentine's Day.
"Why?" asked Gilfoyle. "Are you planning to celebrate the time honored Valentine's Day tradition of watching horror movies ironically with friends to distract yourself from your inescapable romantic loneliness and sexual frustration?"
"More or less," said Dinesh.
"Well," said Gilfoyle, "count me out. I have a date."
"You're seeing someone?" Dinesh asked.
"Sort of," said Gilfoyle. "Very independent girl. Lot of fun."
"Oh," said Dinesh. "Well ... have fun."
"Everybody else has plans, too," said Gilfoyle. "I think even Richard is going on a double date with Bighead and his girlfriend."
"Okay," said Dinesh. "Well, no big deal. I'll just ... drown myself."
Gilfoyle patted him on the shoulder. "You do that."
But when Valentine's Day rolled around, Gilfoyle had changed his tune.
"You still want to watch horror movies?" Gilfoyle asked Dinesh.
"Why?" said Dinesh. "Did you get dumped?"
"No, because Callyn and I were never exclusive and the idea of dumping is so flagrantly Victorian in its sexual politics that both she and I abhor the idea," said Gilfoyle.
"So that's a yes," said Dinesh. "All right, let's head to Family Video and get some movies."
Gilfoyle snorted. "Family Video? So ... let me get this straight ... you, a professional software developer in your twenties living in the year 2013, want to get in a car, drive to an actual store, browse around a bunch of outdated titles, which is going to be totally picked over by the poor people who can't afford Netflix, because it's one of the biggest movie watching nights of the year, and pay money to rent a hard copy of a film, only to come home and discover that it's too scratched to play?"
"No," said Dinesh. "I want to walk. Erlich took the van."
Gilfoyle laughed. "Have you never heard of The Pirate Bay?"
"It's about the experience," said Dinesh. "There's a ceremony to making a trip to a video rental store. It's ... well, you wouldn't get it. You're right: let's just download something."
"No," said Gilfoyle, "I'm kind of interested in your idea of an experience now. Let's do the video store thing."
So they made the two mile walk to Family Video, chatting pleasantly about tabletop stuff. It felt kind of nice having Gilfoyle to himself, with no computer or video games or other roommates to distract them. When they arrived, one of the clerks waved.
"Hey, Dinesh," he said. "Here for some romantic comedies?"
"No, of course not," said Dinesh. "We're looking for horror movies."
"Ah, the ironic film night. Unlucky in love?"
"Yeah, my friend Gilfoyle here just got dumped today," said Dinesh.
"At least I had a girl," Gilfoyle snapped.
"Harsh!" said the clerk. "Hope you didn't get her anything expensive you can't return."
Gilfoyle's face flushed. "So my friend here tells me he comes here for the atmosphere. I suppose you're a wise but quirky movie savant who can provide us with a movie we never could have found on our own."
"Well," said the clerk, "We do have some locally made films in the back. Real found footage stuff. I'll show you."
On the way back, Gilfoyle picked up a copy of Monster Squad. "Heh, forgot about this one," he said.
The clerk grinned. "Yeah, that movie really holds up."
"I've never seen it," said Dinesh.
Gilfoyle grinned. "Then we're definitely getting it."
In the back, the clerk showed them a bunch of hand labeled DVD's in jewel cases.
"Vamps in the Valley ... that ought to be worth a laugh," said Gilfoyle.
"It's not bad," said the clerk. "Now, this one is unintentional hilarity at its finest." He indicated a film called 'Bedford Avenue'. "Guy thinks he's a genius or something. Could be the next The Room."
"We'll take both," said Gilfoyle.
"And some popcorn and Sno Caps," said Dinesh. "Nothing like junk food to soothe the soul."
The clerk rang them up and they headed home. They watched Monster Squad first, Gilfoyle laughing uproariously at every joke.
"This is so goofy," said Dinesh.
"The eighties were a different time," said Gilfoyle.
Next, they watched Bedford Avenue, and this time both of them were laughing.
"I am over you ... und I am in you ... und I am inside you!" roared the vaguely Germanic monster on the screen.
"Oh god, it's like every awful film at the Toronto Film Festival melded together," said Gilfoyle.
"You go to film festivals?" Dinesh asked.
"Once in awhile," said Gilfoyle. "We should go next year."
Finally, they put on Vamps in the Valley. It was a slow burn, but by the end of it, Dinesh was curled up into his seat, rocking back and forth.
Gilfoyle smiled. "What's wrong? Did the nasty little movie scare you?"
Dinesh purposefully walked over and turned on the lights. "No!" he said. "I mean ... please don't tell anyone."
"It's all right," said Gilfoyle. "I won't. You worry too much about that stuff, though. It's okay to let people get to know you."
Dinesh smiled softly. "Maybe just one at a time."