A swarm of students gathered 'round the spectacle that was the two outcasts of the entire skool readying themselves for combat. Psycho . At the moment, neither looked as if they were even close to throwing fists, but that's how their fights always looked.
Don't blink, or you'll miss the first punch. In case you did, Zim was the first to go.
As Dib shouted his verbal blasphemy, Zim lunged, thrusting his still tiny body towards the lanky Dib who couldn't do a thing before Zim met his abdomen. Both toppled to the linoleum and began to roll about, grabbing fistful of hair and mouthfuls of flesh, shouting, punching, kicking and gripping.
That was elementary,my dear reader.
Bad pun, I know.
They didn't fight nearly as much as they did back then. They were beyond that now. It was only insults and loud accusations these days, hi-skool days.
Hi-skool daze.
They'd shove past each other, contort their faces in offensive ways, protrude their tongues, belch insults. Et cetera, et cetera. But there was something beneath it all. It was just like a greasy coating on the hot stove where mysterious things happen, things we can't see. We just see the coils heating, cooking the metaphorical food that is our interest,and that's all we care to see. We don't think anything of it. There are tinkers, however, who are curious. Tinkers, who know what happens beneath the range, whether they want to, or not. They have no choice, the knowledge is there.
After skool, when everybody is heading home, to watch T.V., surf the web,eat food,do chores, Zim and Dib disappear. The only thing people see is the ecstatic Zim running for his little, little life, away from the crazed and anxious Dib itching for a hand ful of that odd green skin. Running home to tussle and injure, destroy and decay their already horrendous relationship.
That's what they see.
That's not what she saw.
It was Friday, is it almost always is in fandom-land, and people were far to excited to care about what it was the two most irritating students after school, not that they cared much in the first place.
Gretchen, taller, her hair grown and worn down, her braces long discarded now that her teeth were admirably aligned, took her sweet time to fix her bag before slinging it over her shoulder. There was nothing to race to in the next class. Why would there be? She finished jamming her binder, filled with doodles and observations, into her worn backpack and exited the classroom without so much as a goodbye to . He was already logging into DandD online, he wouldn't notice. Gretchen shuffled down the hall without a thought. She walked, numb and indifferent. Skool was the same, and it always would be. Wake up. Get ready for skool. Cram a bagel down the throat. Drive to skoo. Attend classes. Stare at Dib until he notices. Look away casually, like it didn't happen, like it was just coincidence for the hundredth time that week. Watch Dib walk to and from class, skinny, thoughtful, sexy. Daydream fruitlessly about Dib. Think about approaching him and actually talking to him, but then cower at the last moment, veer away totally inconspicuous.
Skool was the same. Nothing will ever happen.
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"Stupid machine. Take the fucking dollar!" Gretchen hissed as she tried to cram the bill into the slot which only folded and crinkled defiantly. She sighed and slumped against the machine.
"Are you going to purchase your glutton or not?" came a familiar voice. Not to us though. It's been a handful of years since we've last heard him speak. Now, his voice was just lower in pitch enough to be considered lower, and it sounded gravily, like he had something in his throat, like mucus.
Gretchen turned and allowed Zim to step up to the machine and insert his own bill into the machine which gladly slurped it up and beeped satisfied. Gretchen didn't know it, but she was watching him press the buttons, F6, and watching him watch his Honey-bun fall with a slimy slap to the bottom of the bin. He reached in a seized it, then stood to leave almost running into Gretchen.
"Do I amuse you?" he asked, raising his brow line.
"Uh, no. Geez. I was just waiting in line." she replied, trying not to sound annoyed.
"Then go. You're in my way."
"Ever hear of 'around'?"
Zim made a rather unappealing face at her then shoved passed creating a small titter of laughter from the surrounding students. She ignored them,since, after all, they were all going to grow up and live dead-end lives with dead-end jobs with, if they were lucky, a dead-end marriage and bear witless offspring destined to fulfill their lives minimum expectations.
With that jolly thought in mind, she moved onto the next machine, this time her dollar was gladly accepted in exchange for a crunchy granola bar.
What a prick, Gretchen thought as she wandered to her next class. I know he has a hard time, but god, he doesn't have to be such a butt-plug.
Her next class was close to beginning, but she didn't care, she was rarely late. As for Dib, it was like he teleported to his classes, for he was always the first one there. As she walked in, quite out of habit, she looked over to Dibs seat, and much to her discontentment, he was looking right at her, like he knew.
Did he?, she wondered as she brushed her hair behind her ear and took her seat. She didn't dare look again, not so soon. He might see her again.
She waited for a few minutes to pass, about fifteen, that ought to be long enough, until she looked again. Her skin prickled and her chest tightened, but he wasn't looking. He was bent over his desk, writing something. The tip of his one-jagged bang swept over the desks surface like the end of Ravens feather. From where she sat, she could see the marvelous contours of his skinny face and his brown eyes following his scribing, concentrating. For a second, she fantasized it was a note to her revealing his true, romantic feelings for her. This she tucked away for later, like a good novel she could mull over later, now she wanted to take in every bit of Dib she could before her attention was raped from this brilliant, misunderstood apple of her eye.
As he bent over, his jacket pulled taught across his back and the tall collar flopped lazily like a tired picked fence ready to collapse. His slender hand worked quickly and steadily, the tendons visible as he worked to perfect whatever he may have been writing. The bridge of one worn boot rocked on the wire basked below his seat in uneven patterns, the other, the right, itched his left calf. He looked up, his earrings jingled together, and he stared thoughtfully at the white board before him. He looked back down and began to write again, slender eyebrows creasing, arched at their far ends.
"Gretchen? What do you think about Romeos and Juliette's issue?"
She looked up at her teacher, balding Mr. Spalding. "Uhm..well, to be honest, I really don't think Romeo loves Juliette as much as he says. I mean, he felt the same about Roseline, and then as soon as Juliet exists, he's tripping all over himself again. And all you ever hear him say is how pretty Juliette is."
Mr. Spalding looked at her as if she'd just listed a dozen flaws in the Mona Lisa, then turned away. "Okay. Dib? You look like you're really into this, "he teased, "what do you think?"
Dib sat up and sighed and casually slid his hand over his paper, "Sounds like love to me. If he's willing to sneak into enemy territory to proclaim his affection for her."
"Good, good." Mr. Spalding praised before rambling on about the beauty of the famous love story.
Gretchen half expected Dib to shoot her a condescending look, but he didn't. He only continued to write feverishly.
When the bell rang, Dib was the first out the door, and Gretchen made an effort to make it out in time to see where it was he was going in such a hurry, especially with that note, and yet, not appear suspicious.
She made good time for Dib was still visible through the herd of students making his way towards the locker hall. Quickly, but casually, Gretchen followed making sure to never look directly at Dib, which was ever so difficult. How could one not look?
He continued to duck and weave finally reaching his destination, which was nowhere near Gretchen's locker. Now she was so much more curious.
He slowed to a nonchalant shuffle and stopped before a row of lockers near the back of the hall. A a few glances, he dug the note out from his pocket, then slid it through the slot in the lockers door. Before the note was fully inserted, he took off, obviously uncaring of who might see him rushing away. Gretchen waited until he was out of sight before inching closer to the locker hoping that it was still caught between the slots, but no such luck. She bit her lower lip then back up against the wall to lean and blend. Every time anybody neared the back lockers, her heart began to race, especially when the girls strode by, but none of them approached the one locker to retrieve the skull grippingly mysterious note.
The flow began to peeter down, and hope was beginning to drain from her when somebody emerged from the cloud of bodies and nearly sprinted to their locker. The locker.
Gretchen watched forcing her jaw shut so it wouldn't drop open, possibly to the floor, or so it felt, as the locker was opened and the note fluttered to the students feet.
He bend over and picked it up, smiling like a child finding their lucky marble or such-what, and began to unfold it ecstatically.
No! No! Not him! Gretchen's heart pleaded. It can't be a love note then! I has to be a threat! Or a challenge! To a fight!
Gretchen watched, waiting for Zims reaction.
He smiled, his plum colored eyes scanning the paper and his green skin deepening. He clutched it to his chest like a stuffie and tried in vein to suppress his smile. He looked it over one last time before refolding it and shoving it deep into his pocket. He slammed his locker shut and ran off to his next class. As he passed, time slowed, his eyes met Gretchen's and for a moment, he was surprised, then angry, then satisfied. He looked ahead and skidded around the corner.
The bell rang. And she was late.
____________________________________________________________
For the rest of the day, that's all she thought about. It was all she could think about. Especially Zims expression.
Did he know? She wondered. He knows I like Dib, I'm sure. But...but...that note..he wrote it to Zim....a love note.
Dib wrote a love note to Zim.
Dib.
Is.
Gay.
Before she could run to the bathroom, tears began to slide downher face. Hot, burning tears that singed her skin as they rolled down her cheeks and drip onto the desk before her. Nobody even noticed. Even if they did, nobody cared. Nobody ever had.
Why? Why do I have to fall in love with Dib, who's gay for Zim? Zim, who's only argued with him since elementary skool, caused him pain, embarrassment and frustration?
Why was he gay, period?
Then the bell rang. The students hustled out past her eager to get home. Home to their lack wit parents, their rotting home, moldy foods and mind melting television programs.
Gretchen wasn't so eager. She had only chores and her empty home. Her foster parents worked well into the night. Her cat was always sleeping.
She packed her things and began out towards the side doors to her car, as did dozens of other students, but she was slower. She padded along lethargically as other shoved and weaved around her throwing the occasional insult, which Gretchen didn't hear. She didn't care. All her mind was wrapped in was the note. That little square, responsible for so much agony and heartbreak.
As she padded down the hall, the last of the students racing out followed by fluttering sheets of paper and gum wrappers, a sound, just audible, caught her ear. It was so faint, she wasn't even sure she heard it in the first place. If it weren't for the proceeding sound, she'd continued on figuring madness. She stopped, and listened. It was two voices, raised, but still quiet. She turned, trying to figure out where they were coming from. She usually didn't care about these sounds, especially those specific ones, but she was so certain she recognized them. Her heart raced, her chest tightened and her stomach knotted. Part of her told her it wasn't them, another knew too well it was.
She followed her ears, stepping softly, barely breathing. They grew louder, more distinguishable. They were talking. Sort of. She continued to inch along hoping that nobody would come along, ask her what's she's doing and ruin it, especially a teacher. The treaded softly, now knowing the origins of the sounds. They came from within the band room.
But of course. The band room. Remember, that one time at band camp?
She sucked in her breath and flattened herself against the wall as she ever so slowly slid to see what she could through the chicken wired window. The room was empty, or so it appeared. She stopped and listened.
"I said make it convincing! You totaled my art assignment!"
"It's not Zim's fault you made you paper mashy too flimsy. Grease-stink!"
"It's called paper mache. You owe me Zim. I have to take a C home to my dad now. He expects As and Bs!"
There was silence.
"Zim can make it up now."
"What? What do you- Oh! Zim, shouldn't we wait until we get somewhere,you know, private?"
"I read your note, I can't wait! Now! I can't hold back much longer!" Zim pleaded.
Gretchen's stomached knotted harder then turned a full circle a few times then finally climbed up into her chest.
I should go! Right now! I won't be able to take this! But I can't leave! I have to know what happens! How far it gets! I have to know...how much Dib loves him...
She put her hand to the door which swung to allow easy passage for the Trombone and Sousaphone players, opening it so very very slowly. She got it open a foot and listened, in case they became silent seeing the door open. But they weren't She listened and heard the sharp sound of lips locking and chuckles. She had to go, but she had to stay.
She opened the door wider now knowing that they were in the Strings closet where the string instruments were kept. She slid between the doors, her breath held as their kisses echoed through the near empty room. The door slipped from her fingers, and she could only flinch as is whooshed shut creating a semi loud thwump as they swung together.
"Wait, what was that?"
"Oh sorry, I kicked one of the cellos."
"Oh, Ok, for a moment I thought somebody was coming."
"No, there's no band practice until next Tuesday."
Gretchen felt like heaving a great sigh of relief, but she knew there was no way to cover that. Not even an accidental cello kicking. Slowly she continued on, inching along the wall a few feet from the music stands, metal, and loud. She moved slowly, keeping her eyes on her feet so's not to somehow kick something and give herself away. As she inched, she could hear the distinct sound of a belt being unfastened as well as a zipper.
Oh, oh god. OH GOD! They're not..gonna..oh god! She thought as she stopped for a second, listening to assure herself that they weren't. But then they spoke again, whispering, as quiet as Romeo and Juliet in their Honeymoon bed.
Zim moaned and breathed sharply, "I didn't know you-" he said, but the rest was lost in another moan.
Already? That was fast! She thought. Gretchen continued finally reaching the wall where the Strings closet was. She crawled against it, stealthy like a spy or ninja. When she reached the door, cracked open, she didn't here skin rubbing, or the soft wet sound of intercourse. She could hear Zims and Dibs breathing, growing heavy, as well as Zims pleasured sounds. She got to her hands and knees, and crawled. She crawled, carefully, to the door and peeked in, hoping that it wouldn't be that moment when Dib would have another of his 'spidey senses' on alert. What she saw brought acid tears to her eyes and her stomach to an aching twist. There in the Strings closet lay Zim on his back arched and shirtless as Dib straddled him with his pants unfastened and Zims down near his knees exposing his green groin which was oddly without features. Dib held his hand to Zims lower back, smushing Zims tiny body to his as he kissed the side of Zims face. Zim nuzzled him as he did, mewling and wrapping his legs around Dibs who reached up and ran his hand through Zims hair, then,
removed it.
Dib simply pulled Zims hair from his head in once clump and tossed it aside revealing to long antennae which he ran through his fingers like the hair he disposed of. He held Zims head against his shoulder and rested his hand to back of Zims head saying,
"Okay, are you ready?"
Gretchen felt her throat constrict.
"Yes, I'm ready." he replied softly into Dibs shoulder.
Gretchen watched as Dib reached down between his legs and slid his boxers down over his erection and give it a few jerks before guiding into into Zims groin. Zim gripped Dibs back, digging his sharp little fingers into his shirt and his mouth against Dibs shoulder as he scrunched his face and moaned loudly. Dib lowered Zim to the floor but kept his face near Zims as he took his tiny hips into his long hands and began to pump. Zim mewled and moaned, singing and seranading while Dib held Zim firmly in place as his hips thrusted fast and faster into his wailing alien partner. If Gretchen weren't so sick to her stomach, she'd of been turned on by seeing Dibs enlarged member, but now she was only nauseous at seeing who he was using it with. Zim cried out, tears flowed from his large eyes but he made no attempt at stopping Dib who was completely lost inside of Zim.
"Faster!" Zim panted wrapping his arm over Dibs neck. "Faster, Dib!"
Dib willingly obliged and began to pump faster, kneading into him with incredible speed, and also force. With each thrust, Zims bottom rose from the ground and he slid a fraction of an inch.
"oooh!" moaned Zim as he arched and spread his legs wider. "Ooh, Dib! DIB! DIB!" he called.
Dib replied then with a grunt and a visible shudder, the sound of wet flesh in wet flesh became even more audible, more wet sounding. Gretchen knew what had happened, but she couldn't tear herself away. It's like a train-wreck, they say. It's true. She couldn't take her eyes away from her first and one love pound his cock into a male aliens body, grunting and shaking. Minutes later, he began to slow until he stopped, but he didn't move from Zim, he only held himself over him as Zim caught his breath, eyes closed and chest heaving. Dib watched Zim pant, a bead of sweat dripped from his nose and last on Zims bare chest. Zim finally opened his eyes and upon seeing Dib, he smiled and laughed weakly. Dib joined him then craned his neck down to kiss Zim, once softly, then again, harder and harder until they were nearly eating each others face. Gretchen's eyes widened as she saw a flash of Zims tongue, long a worm like swirl within Dibs mouth and wrap around his tongue. Dib began to pump again, but slowly and in a Ferris-wheel like movement.
"Mmf, Deb" Zim said with a mouthful of Dibs tongue.
Dib stopped rocking and took his mouth from Zims. He sat back running his hands down Zims slick body and up to his knees before backing up and slowly sliding out from within Zim. Gretchen was barely able to suppress a gasp as Dib pulled from within Zim with something curled around him. It was a deep deep red, like nearly dried blood, and it looked like an obese worm curled lovingly around Dibs soaked and dripping member. As it slid from him, there was a string of cum which slumped until it slowly touched the ground like melted gum being strung between fingers. Dibs member sprang back up once Zims own released it and curled lavishly around his opening, then slithered back within him. Zim let out a pleasured, shaky breath then propped himself up on his elbows.
"Aren't you glad we didn't wait?"
Dib put his face to Zims belly and ran kisses to his mouth, "Very. Although, there are more advantages at home."
Home? Thought Gretchen. Doesn't he mean..his home?
"I agree, but the danger...of this....much more pleasing."
Dib caressed the side of Zims face then sat back, "We should probably be heading home then."
Zim nodded then much to Gretchen astonishment, a large, pointed appendage sprouted from Zims metal backpack with a cloth at it's end. Zim took it and began to wipe his groin clean. Dib didn't seem to care, for he simply pulled his pants back up and tossed Zim his shirt.
Suddenly remembering where she was, Gretchen quickly backed away and stood to make a break for the door. At that moment, she didn't care about how much noise she made, those jerks deserved a good scare, so long as she made it out without them seeing her. So quickly she darted, running into a few music stands in the process, before making to the door and towards the nearest bathroom so that she may vomit her heart out. She barely made it before she exploded into the toilet, stall door wide open. She puked a few times, tears streaming down her face from the awful taste and feelings, and from her heart being torn out, stomped on and tossed into a chipper. When she finished, she washed her face and eyes, then rinses her mouth several times before exiting. She emerged and made a left nearly running into somebody who was leaning against the and didnt' seem to notice the near collision.
"Zim!"
Zim looked her up and down then raised a brow at her. He then casually reached over and plucked something from the front of her shirt. Before he dropped it, she saw that it was one of the paper Music notes that decorated the music stands, found only in the band room.
"Dib wanted me to give you this." he said nearly shoving it into her chest. She barely got it before Zim took back his hand and turned to leave. She stared in shock at the folded paper in her hands. When she looked up, Zim was a few yards away, but then he turned and took a few steps backwards, smirking. He turned, his head last to follow and he sauntered away. Dib appeared from around the corner and put one arm around his back, for it didn't reach his waist, and both padded away contently towards the double doors.
Towards the real world.
Gretchen looked down at the paper, a tear landed smack in the middle. She didn't bother to open it. Instead, she dropped it into the trash can and there,
Gretchen was changed forever.
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