Your name is Dirk Strider and you are determined to survive the day, even if it fucking kills you, which it damn well might. Today is Friday the 13th and as fucking stupid and cliche as it sounds you are literally having the worst luck today. For starters, you and Jake haven't seen each other in almost a week due to work schedules being all over the place. Hell, you've barely been able to have a single phone call that lasted longer than ten minutes because of how busy the both of you have been. That alone would be enough to ruin your mood as you wake up to a surprising lack of good morning texts. It was something that you'd grown used to and not having it was alarmingly annoying and lonely for some reason.
On top of a lack of romantic interactions, you also have to walk to work today because your car is in the shop getting a new alternator. A $600 expense that neither you nor your wallet were too excited about. This morning you spent just a few minutes too long on your hair and had to rush out the door. Being the monumental idiot that you were, you forgot your coat and it just so happened to be fucking downpouring. Great. And did you have an umbrella? No. Of course not. Double great. No time to turn back and get it now.
Your name is Dirk Strider, you are soaking wet, your hair is ruined, and you are exactly fourteen minutes late for work. Why you thought stopping for coffee was a good idea, you'd never know. The place is always busy and you really didn't have time to spare for this shit today. You take your seat at your desk finally and sip your coffee. Then you spit it the fuck out. This is not your coffee. You check the receipt again only to find that they charged you for a more expensive drink that you fucking hate but now have to tolerate. Today is fucking amazing.
You drink the shitty coffee as you get to work. Your job as IT isn't glamorous, but it sure is easy most of the time. Fixing things like paper-jams, recovering files, or troubleshooting connection problems with the office's wifi network. There aren't many problems this morning but the few that there are happen to be fairly difficult compared to the usual. You get through them though, you always do.
Viva la Starbucks. You spend your entire 15 minute break in the restroom thanks to the coffee that you decided to drink in order to avoid wasting it. That is the last time that you fail to pay attention at a register when ordering food or drink. The rest of the morning passes with not much to do and a stomachache that refuses to leave you alone but doesn't send you to the restroom again.
The next problem you have to fix nearly kills computer continues to display the error of low battery voltage. After making sure it isn't plugged into a surge protector you submit to the fact that the damn thing just needs a new battery. Simple enough task. You pop the cover off of the modem and as you go to replace the battery you forget to ground yourself properly and nearly electrocute yourself. It's a minor shock but it still hurts like a bitch and definitely wakes you up. You grumble to yourself but manage to get the battery replaced. The lead programmer (who should have known how to fix the problem himself) can now get back to work. Hooray.
Nearly an hour before your shift is over you receive a call from a customer from the previous week. It had been one of the few instances in which the company sent you to someone's home to fix their computer. Apparently this customer was important enough to the company that they had access to corporate IT. Regardless of their importance, they seemed to be rather upset with the solution you'd provided for them, claiming that the system still wasn't working and that you had sabotaged their computer.
You argued with them for a few minutes, asking repeatedly if they had gone and done anything else after you'd left, mainly because it was working fine when you'd left. The customer denied their interference up and down and insisted that you'd done something to it that 'broke it much worse than it had been in the first place'. Then they requested to speak to your boss.
Thirty minutes of being stared down by your supervisor while he is on the phone is not a pleasant experience and it's certainly one you'd like to avoid in the future. When it is all said and done he informs you that he had to give a full refund to the customer and that it will be coming out of your paycheck since it was your mistake. You try to explain that the customer was lying and had attempted to alter the system after you left, but your supervisor doesn't want to hear it.
You make it through the work day, barely, but not without pinching your finger so badly it bleeds. The icing on the shitcake for your day so far. You bandage your finger like a responsible person and let that be that. Then you linger in the front lobby of your work building because it is still raining harshly and you really don't want to walk home in that.
Your name is Dirk Strider and your car is in fact not ready to be picked up from the autoshop. Apparently, on top of needing a new alternator, your mechanic has noticed that your brake pads need replacing and you're probably due for a tire rotation as well as two new tires. You tell him to just go ahead and add it on because honestly, you can't drive the damn thing knowing that your brakes could go out or a tire could blow. He informs you that your new total for everything will be around $1000 including labor and that you can pick your car up tomorrow. You keep your calm long enough to end the call before slumping into a chair in the office lobby and gripping your phone a little tighter than you probably should. It is Friday the 13th and you are fucking pissed and broke and stranded at your workplace.
Nearly out of options, but not completely, you call around to see if anyone is available to pick you up and drive you home. You don't go into full detail, just explain that your car is taking longer in the shop. It doesn't matter though because everyone you know is busy either at work, appointments, or college classes. Jake still isn't answering so you know that he is really swamped at the moment. You're not quite desperate enough to ask any of your co-workers for a ride home so you submit to your fate and head back into the freezing rain.
Halfway home your stomach rumbles and you come the realization that you haven't eaten a damn thing all day. You reach towards your wallet and pull it out only to find that you spent the last of your cash on coffee this morning. Fucking fantastic. At least you have food at home.
Your name is Dirk Strider and you are convinced that the world is out to get you today. The door to your apartment is not opening. The key is turning, the noise of the lock clicking can be heard, but the door itself seems stuck. You've tried being moderately forceful with it but it has yet to budge. You are just done enough with today that you backup a step, take a deep breath, and fucking ram the door with your shoulder. The resulting creak of the hinge is music to your ears but goddamn does your shoulder hurt now. That's probably going to be bruised by tomorrow.
The way you slam the door once you're inside is probably unnecessary and bothersome to the neighbors but you really don't care anymore. You slip through the kitchen, grab the first thing you find in the fridge which happens to be last night's leftover stir-fry, and pop it in the microwave. Ten minutes later your stomach is sated but your mood is still sour. It's been a fucking day.
You slip your muddy shoes off finally, head into your room, and just pass the fuck out on the bed. No covers needed, only rest and for the day to be over already. Two hours pass and you wake up, freezing as all hell, to 11 missed calls and nearly 20 texts from Jake. The first thing you do is panic, the second thing you do is turn the fucking heat on, and the third thing you do is call Jake back.
Your name is Dirk Strider and you are the worst boyfriend ever. Jake had apparently come over an hour ago and stood outside your door for a while, knocking and attempting to get your attention. When you didn't answer he simply went home and waited for you to get back to him. You left your boyfriend out in the cold because you were too busy being a mope and sleeping at fucking 6pm. After apologizing profusely and explaining what a day it's been, you manage to get out that you've really missed him. He asks you if you're alright because you rarely just come out and say things like that, and you have to be honest, you're really not alright at the moment.
Jake agrees to come over so long as you don't leave him stranded at the door again and that's honestly the best news you've heard all day. You take some time to clean up the place and make it presentable. Then you take some more time to make sure the front door still works properly after the way you've abused it today. You've taken all the time that you can doing everything you can think of to make your house look presentable, and Jake still hasn't arrived. You don't think to fix your hair because it's Jake and he never cares about things like that and you just don't have the fucking energy. You lay out on the couch and close your eyes as you wait, careful not to slip into sleep again.
Your name is Dirk Strider and you have the best boyfriend on the entire planet. Jake shows up late but not without reason. He is at your door arms loaded with all sorts of things. He's got the fluffy blanket from his house that he knows you enjoy immensely, a bag of his things for staying overnight, some of your and his favorite candies, a few movies that he knows you actually like, and an entire pizza. You want to hug him but it would appear his hands are quite full at the moment.
Once he's inside and everything is set down however, you practically leap into his embrace, on the verge of tears because this is just the sort of thing you needed today. He holds you tight and you break down just a little. You don't cry, but you are definitely having a moment there in his arms, and he lets you hold on for as long as you need. It's a good five minutes before you're collected enough to release your boyfriend. When you do though he's right there again wrapping you in the blanket and leading you to the living room.
Jake serves the two of you pizza on paper plates so that you don't have to do any dishes and pops one of the dvds into the system for you. He asks you if you want anything to drink but you decline. He brings you water anyway, just in case you change your mind, because that's just how he is. The two of you cuddle on the couch as the movie plays and Jake presses soft kisses to your head every now and then. It's nice, it's comforting, and it's more than appreciated after the havoc of the day.
Towards the end of the first movie you're feeling pretty tired. The pizza is completely gone and the candy wrappers are strewn across the coffee table. Jake's little kisses have gotten more frequent and more attentive, ranging from being placed on your head to across your neck, your cheek, and really anything he can reach from his spot to the right of you. As the credits roll, Jake doesn't hesitate to gently grab your chin and guide you into a real kiss. You can't help but let out a hum as you can feel the stress and tension in your body slowly melt away. The soft kisses quickly turn into fervent making out and you realize you're being carried from the couch.
Your name is Dirk Strider and god damn are you loud in bed. Jake is behind you, three fingers stretching you as you just plant your face into the bed and grip the sheets until your knuckles are white. He's been patient and slow and absolutely fucking tender with you and you are ready to scream from how badly you want him in you already. If it weren't for your sounds being sufficiently muffled by the bed though, you'd likely have receive a noise complaint by now from the apartment building's management.
Then suddenly you're empty and you can hear the pop of the cap on the lube and you know that you're about to be absolutely wrecked. Jake lines up and just barely pushes against your opening as he leans over you and nips at your ear. You shudder and just nod at him, answering the question that you know he is going to ask. "Are you ready, love?"
You think you're about to be brutally pounded, and honestly you're looking forward to it. But when Jake pushes in, it's anything but brutal. He continues his theme of slow and tender and you are fucking shaking from the intensity. You can feel his hands on your hips, and his chest against your back, and his dick in your ass, all fitting against you just so.
Then he's moving and it's heaven and hell all wrapped into one. And he's holding you so tight and touching you so tenderly and you can feel yourself coming undone under the pressure of his hands as he works you over. You manage to hold out until you feel him getting close, but no longer than that. And as you spill across his hand and the sheets he whispers in your ear that he loves you. You groan and manage to clench just right to have him spilling into you a moment later.
Once you both come down from your highs and can breathe properly again, you tell him that you love him too. He wastes no time in recapturing your lips, slipping the covers over the both of you. You resign to the fact that cleanup is going to be a hassle in the morning, but then let it go because honestly, this is worth it. Jake is worth it. And Friday the 13th cannot get the best of you as long as he is around.