Full Summary: Dib hates the fact that after all of these countless years of battles and arguments, his heart has started to betray him and everything he's been fighting for. He hates how when he looks at the alien, his heart thrashes against his chest and his chest blossoms with unexplained warmth; Warmth that traces up his veins and flares across his face, warmth that makes his brain short circuit and leaves him a nervous, stuttering wreck. Out of time and out of options, Zim had been the last person Dib had wanted to take to the dance with him. Zim was loud, arrogant, and obnoxious, the polar opposite of what he had been looking for. Though as much as Dib hates to admit it, he can't picture himself going with anyone else.
*Side note, this story is also cross-posted onto AO3*
Dib absentmindedly began to chew on his bottom lip, eying the clock like it was a ticking time bomb going to explode at any given moment. He purses his lips as he watches the small hand jerk and pulse between each tick mark. His eyes frantically dart between the clock and his Irken rival. He clutches the small scrap of colorfully printed paper in his hands, his teeth gritted. Inadvertently, he crumples the edges of the paper, fingers curling around it.
There was no way in hell he was going to resort to him. He would rather die than go with him.
Glancing around him, he tries to take count of all the girls he hadn't asked yet. A scowl surfaces across his lips once he realizes he's running out of options. Nearly every girl he'd asked had either already had a date, or had bluntly rejected him, only causing his—already low—self esteem to dwindle even lower.
This was impossible. In all honesty, he was almost willing to rip up the homecoming tickets into shreds and throw the scraps all over the floor like confetti. Though he knew if he did that, his father would throw a fit.
His father had practically forced the money for the tickets into his hands, and had made Gaz ensure that he actually bought them and convinced someone to go with him, giving her the insurance of a family night out for pizza two months from now. He knew that Gaz would do anything if it meant more time to spend with their Dad. He knew if he didn't find someone to go with him, Gaz would never let him hear the end of it, and he might as well kiss his sorry ass goodbye. His father was convinced that if he could manage to get a girlfriend, she would return him to normalcy and make him take up an interest in 'real' science.
Swallowing dryly, his Adam's apple bobbing, Dib clenched his hands tightly into the excess fabric of his trench coat, bunching cloth up into his hands. He physically felt his heart plummet into his stomach as the bell rang. Anxiously and frantically, he shot up and darted over to the first girl he saw.
"Excuse me, b- but would you be willing to go to homecoming with me?" Dib blurted, words fumbling out of his mouth in a quick jumbled mess as he practically shoved a ticket in the said girl's face.
The moment Dib looked up and temporarily locked eyes with one of the most popular girls in school, her long mascara coated eyelashes blinking slowly at first, her glossy lips twisting into an ugly smirk, a scoff escaping her lips, Dib knew he had made a mistake. He visibly cringed as she turned on her heel to face him, a hand on her thrusted hip, her long, golden blonde hair swishing behind her. Jessica.
"What was that? You want me, to go with you?" She made a distinct sound of disgust as she rolled her eyes. "You wish. Not even in your dreams. I hear insanity is contagious, I wouldn't wanna catch it, now would I?" She let out a haughty, arrogant laugh as she purposely rammed shoulders with him on her way out the door. Leading by example, since everyone else strived to sit at the popular kids table, the rest of his peers began to point and laugh as well, spouting off ridicules and taunts about how he was 'crazy'.
Dejectedly, sighing and kicking at the metaphorical dust on the ground, he slumped his shoulders. With that slip up, there was no way he would ever be able to convince someone to go with him now. What bothered him most however, was the fact that it had been years since elementary Skool, and despite everything, nothing had changed. As far as everyone else was concerned, he was just another basket case, slipping through the small cracks of a loophole.
Eying the tickets still clutched in his right hand, he dragged his feet slowly along the tile floor, his combat boots echoing with every footstep, slicing through the renowned silence, all of the other students long gone, only the gentle thrum of the rain against the rooftop to accompany his walk of shame.
Upon reaching the exit, he paused on the concrete steps, and stared in an almost thoughtful manner at the teenager huddled beneath the awning. He stood silently watching for a moment, watching as the individual would flinch and shudder when rainwater that had congregated and overflowed from the gutter, would periodically drip in front of him with a particularly large drop. He also couldn't help but notice how they would grumble and mutter to themself under their breath, each mumbled syllable a little puff of condensed wispy smoke.
Dib couldn't help but feel a slight triumphant grin overtake his features. It had been months since he'd seen such a display like this from his rival. Zim was generally way too meticulous to forgo such crucial practices like checking the weather and regularly applying paste. And considering how much the Irken complained about how disgusting and treacherous Earth's seasons and weather were, it baffled him that Zim still wore his usual, surprisingly thin, standard invader uniform everyday. He knew the Irken was bound to nearly be a frozen popsicle, considering how the invader didn't even have a coat, or anything that remotely retained heat or repelled water.
"Forget your paste, Space boy?" Dib asked, pulling himself from his trance, shuffling down the remainder of the stairs, stopping to lean against the column supporting the overhang. With one last longing, and almost regretful glance at the printed dips and curves of the letters on the tickets still in his hand, he shoves the tickets into his coat pocket, refocusing his attention back onto the alien.
"N- No." Zim huffed defensively, curtly crossing his arms firmly over his chest, trying to repress the all too obvious shiver that threatened to overtake him. "Zim would never forget something as trivial as that."
Dib couldn't help but quirk an eyebrow. "Is that so? Then why are you still here?" He asked with a drop of sarcasm, then testily, he gave the Irken a gentle shove out into the downpour.
With steam corroding off the invader's skin, and a high screech of agony, Zim darted back underneath the safekeeping of the awning, his small chest rapidly rising and falling from anger as he gritted his teeth, glaring daggers at Dib. Water dripping from his clothes, Zim pointed an accusatory claw in Dib's face, a menacing growl rippling from his throat. "Stink beast, you DARE invoke the wrath of ZIM?! I'll drown you in your putrid, polluted rainwater!" He fumed irritably, a grumpy scowl twisted onto his face.
Dib couldn't help but to bite back laughter as he purposely stomped into a large puddle, sending cascading droplets every which way.
With this, Zim let another ghastly screech ripple out of his nonexistent lungs, steam radiating off the area of impact. This sent Zim fuming at the human, his fingers visibly splayed into an aggressive 'claw' as he lunged at the teenager, his arms swinging wildly about in fury.
Caught off guard, and not expecting such quick retaliation, by the time he realized Zim was charging at him, ready to rip him to shreds, it was too late. His vision was toppled and compromised as his glasses were knocked away from his face, his body slammed into a mix of muddy dirt and concrete, hard. He gasped for oxygen, suddenly winded as he felt heavy weight and force being pressed into his stomach. Slightly sitting up, he could make out a green blob, leaning over him. He winced as felt what he had to assume were Zim's claws digging into his shoulder.
"Grr... Y- You stupid insolent HYUUUMAN!" The alien growled, recollecting himself, withdrawing his claws from Dib's shoulder as he let out an aggravated huff.
Slowly sitting up and fumbling for his lost glasses, Dib pulled himself up, a triumphant smirk still plastered firmly across his lips. Just by interpreting his stiff body language, with the way Zim thrummed his fingers against his crossed arms, and the impatient tapping of his boot, Dib knew that if it hadn't of been raining, the Irken most definitely would've stormed off.
Glancing over his shoulder, Dib surveyed the damage to his arm, he bit back a whimper as he saw the sleeve of his trench coat had been cut, three precise, slender, slivers cut out of it, where Zim's claws had pierced through the fabric and sliced clean through it, the assault even snagging his arms and drawing blood. His poor coat had been through thick and thin with him, surviving all of the battles throughout the years, protecting him from all the demons that lurked within, like a repellent to all of the dark emotions and feelings he'd been repressing. This was heartbreaking, his trench coat may as well have been a comrade who had fallen in combat. Of all the battles he'd been through with Zim; Explosions, lasers, space battles, giant mutant hamsters, this, this of all things had been the downfall of his beloved ebony trench coat. Despite the melancholy pitted deep in his chest and the painstakingly undeniable contracting of his heart, he wasn't mad at Zim. He should've been, but he just couldn't find it in himself to be angry about it.
Letting out a pensive sigh, he slipped off the coat, draping it over his arm. He stole a glance back over at the Irken, and he pursed his lips watching Zim shudder as another shiver overtook the alien's bones, the cold rainwater only making the chilly weather and frigid wind even more intolerable.
"Zim you realize you'd be warmer if you wore a coat right?" He couldn't help but point out.
His teeth chattering, and his emerald cheeks flushed lavender from the cold, he stuttered, a puff of condensation with each syllable, "Z- Z- Zim doesn't n- need your in- inferior human coverings."
Dib quirked an eyebrow, shaking his head as he readjusted the collar of the t-shirt he had been wearing beneath his trench coat. Sighing, and almost begrudgingly, Dib grabbed his coat and draped the fabric around the practically shaking teenager. "Idiot, you're gonna get hypothermia." He murmured with a scoff.
"Zim's su- Superior Irken body doesn't succumb to st- stupid human conditions." Zim barked stubbornly, refusing to degrade himself to the lowly likes of earthen pig-smellies.
"Mmhm." Dib said nodding slowly. "So just like that time you got pneumonia, and your 'Superior Irken body' ended up unconscious in the middle of class and you ended up holed up in your base, literally dying, for a whole month straight?" The dark haired teen deadpanned.
Zim grumbled under his breath in denial, although he had to admit the excess warmth withheld within the fabric, siphoned from Dib's body heat, felt heavenly against his ice cold skin. Though as much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to shrug off the trench coat. His insatiable hunger for warmth overpowered his arrogance.
"You can wear it so you don't die in the rain... All of these years of rivalry will have been for nothing if you melt." Dib mumbled, kicking at a puddle near his feet. "BUT if there's another single rip or thread on it that comes undone, I will dissect your ass right on the spot!"
Zim waved the human off dismissively, haughtily upturning his head as he slipped his arms into the sleeves, the coat too big over his thin, slender form. Adjusting the collar of the coat as Zim pulled up the fabric to cover his head, he peered over his shoulder and spouted, "Just so you know, Zim owes you no gratitude. As far as Zim's concerned, I hypnotized you with my devilish charisma."
Pointing an accusatory finger at the green skinned teenager Dib rattled back almost angrily, "Y- You're unbelievable!"
The Irken couldn't help but smirk as he peered over his shoulder, back at the human. "VICTORY FOR ZIM!" He declared shamelessly as he hummed a slight tune of triumph, marching forward and onward through the rain, his chest puffed out, and his stance as prideful as a stuck-up kid who'd just gotten what they'd wanted.
Dib sighed, a puff of condensation pooling from his lips at the the exhale of breath. He turned his head skywards, gazing at the ashen sky and the dark cumulonimbus clouds. It was in this moment he realized, now he would get soaked walking home, instead of Zim. He groaned as he reluctantly started trudging through the downpour. And what was worse, was it was his coat. He wasn't even sure what it was that compelled him to give it to Zim, but seeing Zim there all alone, freezing, and in pain, something inside him just caved.
Not even two steps into the door of his home, his clothes dripping and clinging to his skin, he was met with the familiar tone of death itself. Dib's shoulders involuntarily rose to a shudder as his sister screamed his name.
"DIB! Tickets." She stated bluntly, only briefly glancing up from her game console.
"T- Tickets?" Dib asked meekly, the pitch of his voice high and uneasy.
"Who?" Gaz barked, pausing her game, looking Dib straight in the eye. "Who did you give them to." Her inquiry came out more like a demand with the way she snarled out each syllable. Considering she had paused her game and was physically staring him down with a glare, straight in the eyes, he knew she was serious.
"H- Homecoming tickets?" He asked almost inaudibly, a nervous laugh etching it's way out of his throat. "I couldn't find anyone to go with me, but I have them right-" he paused, patting down his jean pockets, and searching through them. His face visibly paled as he found the only thing even remotely close to the dance tickets in his pockets, was a crumpled slip of notebook paper with scribbles and observations about Zim. He let out another uneasy laugh as he frantically began to vigorously search through his pockets again, for something he knew he wouldn't find.
Then suddenly it dawned on him, the realization hitting him like a cold, hard slap to the face. His trench coat. He had shoved the tickets into his trench coat. And like the stupid oblivious idiot he was, he had given the jacket to Zim, without withdrawing the tickets from his coat pocket. He physically wanted to punch himself in the face right now for his own negligence. As far as he was concerned, being dateless and ticketless might as well of been a death sentence, especially in the eyes of his sister. He swallowed thickly, knowing fully well he was a deadman walking.
Gaz didn't care about a lot of things, but Dib knew what little she did care about, she'd fight tooth and nail for; Gaming, pizza, and even more so than the other two, spending time with their father, was definitely at the top of that list. According to their Dad, if Dib got someone to go to homecoming with him, he'd squeeze out a couple hours of his day to spend time with them. And he knew there was no way Gaz was going to let him fuck this opportunity up.
"Right where?" Gaz asked skeptically, her arms crossed firmly across her chest, her patience clearly drawing thin.
Biting his bottom lip, and clenching his fists, he quickly spat out in a flustered huff, "ImayormaynothaveaccidentallygavethemtoZim."
Gaz blinked at him slowly, pursing her lips. She was silent. This was unnerving to Dib, when she was pissed, Gaz was never silent and still, she never just stood there staring at him with a blank look. When she was angry, she always acted on impulse. Always. He was almost more terrified by her lack of a reaction, than he was by her usual rash abusive behavior.
"I figured it had to happen eventually. I guess you finally grew some balls and have finally come to terms with yourself." Gaz stated simply with a shrug, a sigh escaping her lips as she went and plopped herself back down onto the couch, picking up the controller to the game console and rebooting her game. Seconds later, her fingers were furiously pounding against the buttons. "I've had my suspicions for a while now."
Dib cocked his head to one side in confusion, his previously tensed shoulders and muscles, loosening. He was confused. Shouldn't she be pissed at me for losing the tickets and not getting a date?, Dib couldn't help but wonder.
"Y'know Dad did say he wanted you to get a girlfriend right? I mean personally I don't care about who you like or what gender you're attracted to—just as long as I get pizza at Bloaty's with Dad—But I'm pretty sure his cut-throat picture of normalcy for you, didn't involve a green 'foreigner' in the picture." Gaz stated bluntly and simply, not even bothering to give Dib a second glance as she continued pounding buttons.
Realization pooling over him, Dib couldn't help but go slack-jawed, his pupils dilated and his mouth hung agape. His eyebrows arching down in anger and his cheeks flushing from rage and embarrassment, he began to fume. "Hold up, wait... Y- YOU THOUGHT I ASKED ZIM TO GO TO HOMECOMING WITH ME?!" He couldn't help but yell in anger. "And Gaz I'm not gay!" He huffed defensively, crossing his arms and pouting. "And even if I were, I'd never, NEVER, get attached to Earth's wannabe conquerer!"
"Then explain how Zim wound up with the tickets?"
"I- He-" Dib paused, his resolve beginning to dissipate. Mumbling quietly under his breath, he then muttered, "It was raining...so I gave him my coat...which had the tickets in them."
Gaz stifled a laugh, one almost more taunting than anything else. "Whatever Romeo. Now shut up so I can concentrate."
"GAZ." Dib whined, his cheeks burning crimson in embarrassment.
X~X~X
Zim let out a huff of discontent, his bottom lip protruding into a silky pout and his antennae raising in arrogance. Why did the stink beast's apparel have to be so warm...and soft. And why did the jacket have to smell like Dib, and screw it all to hell, Zim couldn't possibly fathom why he actually liked the scent.
To normal people, the coat didn't hardly radiate any scent at all, but with Zim's acute senses, he could detect it all. The main, most prominent aroma was of coffee grounds rooted deep in the fabric; from all of the late nights spent observing surveillance cameras or staking out, and from those mornings when Dib had procrastinated on a project and stayed up til 5 am working on it. Then there was the mingling scent of something acrid and reactive, like residue from some sort of chemical experiment. Then faintly, enough to be noticed but not enough to be overpowering, there was the scent of cologne sprayed here and there.
A few standard Invader uniforms that Zim had outgrown lay sprawled across the floor. A look of deep concentration settles on the Irken's face. Tentatively, he opens and closes the scissors in his gloved hand, a threaded needle lying close by on the floor. Finally letting out a sigh, he slips off Dib's jacket and sprawls it out on the floor as well. Sitting on his knees, he picks up the trench coat and turns it over in his hands, studying the seams of the fabric. Sucking in a breath and pursing his lips, Zim then finally made the resolve to cut up his old uniforms and attempt to make his own version of Dib's coat.
He cocks his head to one side as two small slips of paper fall from the pocket of Dib's jacket.
Gir, who had been sitting idly on the couch, immediately dives for the scraps of paper and holds them up triumphantly, waving them about. "Ooh coupons!" He cries, his little pink tongue poking out of the side of his mouth.
Antennae raising in curiosity, twitching slightly, he snatches the 'coupons' from the little robot's hands.
"Home...coming...?" Zim reads aloud in confusion. "What is this coming of home? Irk... to...Earth?" Glancing down he then skims over a date. "A- A week?! Does this mean my Tallests are coming in a WEEK?!" The Irken screeched as he frantically jumped to his feet, beginning to pace frantically. "WAIT! These were in the Dib's pockets... how did he know about this before I did?!" Gritting his teeth he then barked firmly, "GIR! Complete creating this so called 'coat'." The Irken orders, waving his hand dismissively at the pile of fabric scattered on the floor. "I must attend to my mission, Zim mustn't disappoint the Tallests! Now my blueprints, WHERE ARE MY BLUEPRINTS?!" Zim yells, frustrated as he dashes about his base, attempting to formulate new plans for his conquest.
Gir sits on the cold floor tiles, humming quietly to himself as he snipped at this and that, completely oblivious to his master's inner anxiety and frustration.
Mind still hazy and clogged with sleep, Dib stumbles into his seat of his first period class. He sips coffee from an espresso cup in an almost disgusted manner, his lips pursed and his brows furrowed at the cup in disinterest. He hadn't asked for decaf. When he was only running on two hours of sleep, a decaf cup of coffee was the last thing he needed. He knew he shouldn't of waited til the last minute to write that five page history report. Though, being beyond tired and grouchy, Dib had decided to pin the blame on the barista who had concocted his drink. He hadn't asked for decaf, if anything, Dib thought his request would imply the opposite—with his request for five cups of creamer and ten packets of sugar. He sighed in disappointment, propping his head up with hand.
Closing his eyes, he leaned into his hand, head bobbing as he fought off sleep. Managing to doze off for the briefest of seconds, he flinched violently as a loud, obnoxious voice filled his ears, the green skinned teenager making his entrance known, furthermore, slamming the door shut behind him. "DIB!" Zim huffed haughtily, doing his stiff-legged march toward the other boy, too-long coat tail dragging behind him almost like a cape.
Dib blinked slowly, eyes skimming over his nemesis in confusion. A smirk surfaced across his face, as he bit back laughter. "Zim, what the hell are you wearing?!"
The Irken looked like he had attempted to make his own trench coat, but it appeared as though something went horribly, horribly wrong throughout the process. The stitches were uneven and atrocious, with bits of fabric hanging out of the seams, the collar was long and floppy, ends almost cut into spikes. While the sleeves were too-long and mangled. And Dib could've swore the makeshift 'coat' smelled strongly of syrup. He assumed Gir was responsible for creating whatever you wanted to call the thing perched on Zim's frame.
"Only Zim's marvelous 'co-oat'." He replied back pridefully, enunciating his strange pronunciation. "Yes, yes, you can praise it's amazingness, later. It's like your coat, but better! Trenchie 2.0!" Shaking his head realizing he was straying from his original task, he then continues "Anyways that's irrelevant."
"You're the one who brought it up." Dib mumbles under his breath.
"Now... What are these and how did you get them?! Zim demands to know!" The Irken yelled, slamming the two homecoming tickets down onto the surface of Dib's desk, causing the boy to flinch backwards.
Dib's pupils widen in recognition, blood rushing to his cheeks, beginning to burn crimson. Dib's throat felt dry, and his stomach felt like it was tying itself into knots, he physically felt sick. In blind desperation, Dib lunged for the scraps of paper, his already teetering pride and dignity hanging on the line. He would go to the dance with anyone, anyone but Zim.
Reacting faster, Zim quickly snatched the tickets back up, cupping them protectively against chest as he shot Dib a dirty glare, a hiss emanating from his throat. "What do you think you're doing Dib-filth?!"
"Damn it Zim." Dib muttered through clenched teeth, making sure to keep his voice low as he cautiously looked around them to see how many of his peers were staring at them. "For the love of God, please just give them back." Dib more or less begged, the embarrassment and desperation evident in his voice—which begging was something he never did, especially not to Zim.
Zim narrowed his eyes in skepticism at the dark haired teen, gloved hands still firmly guarding the scraps of paper. "Then tell Zim, how did you acquire these 'coming of home' messages? They were clearly meant for Zim from the Tallests." The Irken asked, his tone sharp and derogatory.
Messages from his leaders?, Dib couldn't help but question to himself. Furrowing his brows he then quipped, "I bought them..."
Zim let out an over dramatic gasp as he pointed a trembling, accusatory finger at the other teen. "You bribed the carrier?!" His antennae threatened to raise in alarm from beneath his wig. He clicked his serpentine tongue in annoyance, "Disloyalty in the empire..." he tsked in disdain.
Suddenly it clicked for Dib. Zim had probably never been to a recreational dance—though Dib couldn't say much on that either—considering how hellbent his species appeared to be on militaristic training. Zim probably didn't know that the term 'homecoming' was associated with a dance, not anything intergalactic. Dib let out an amused scoff. It was amazing how gullible and naive the Irken was. Though he supposed he could see where the misunderstanding stemmed from.
"So... I'll take those back now." Dib slowly suggested, his hand outstretched towards the Irken.
"MINE." Zim hissed defiantly, letting out a screech as Dib tackled him and pinned him up against the wall.
It was in this moment, Zim acknowledged how undoubtedly close Dib was to him right now, how the human's body practically pressed up against his, and how the teenager's head was only a few mere inches away from his face. Zim felt heat arise in his cheeks as his heart began to hammer faster and faster in his chest. This feeling was icky and foreign to the alien, it was unbearable. His light lavender eyes frantically flicked around anywhere but meeting Dib's eyes. He could feel the human's warm breath brushing in and out against his cheeks.
Pursing his lips and furrowing his nonexistent brows, Zim concentrated, desperately trying to remember what it was that humans called it when one was assaulted.
Dib's hand pressed against the wall, pinning the Irken in, body up against him, it was in this moment Dib took a moment to realize, despite wearing the same tacky wig and those same lavender contacts, Zim had changed over the years too. He had gotten taller, still slightly shorter than Dib, but regardless, he had grown significantly taller from when Dib had first encountered him. Though he hadn't intended to, Dib found his eyes roaming over the alien's features; Zim's jawline was sharp and his cheekbones were stark and prominent, his body lean and muscular for his scrawny build. Though the more Dib looked at him, Dib had to admit, all things considered, Zim was actually...kind of cute. The moment his mind came to that conclusion, Dib furiously shook the thought from his head in denial. What the hell was he thinking?! Zim and the word 'cute' didn't belong together in the same sentence! Shoving those thoughts back down the gutter where they came from, Dib reminded himself that Zim was a monster, a mongrel at best. He also reminds himself that assessing Zim was not the end game here, it was acquiring the tickets and getting someone to go with him.
Dib opened his mouth to spout something threatening at the green skinned teenager, however before he could even utter a sound, what the alien yelled next left him speechless and slack-jawed.
"RAPE!"
This proclamation immediately turned all heads in their direction, each gaze more judgmental than the last. Dib swallowed dryly, his skin growing pale as his blood began to run cold. This looked bad. Dib had one hand pinning the Irken up against the wall, one of the Irken's wrists caught in his grasp, restraining it above the Irken's head. His other hand laid suggestively clenching the green skinned teenager's hip. His body was tight against Zim's, their faces only a few inches away.
Immediately Dib retracted his hands and took several steps back, away from the Irken. He stared at the alien with eyes wide and mouth agape, pure mortification painted all over his features. In a flustered mess he quickly stuttered, "N- No! I- I can explain!" He then shot the Irken a dirty look.
Zim only merely smirked at Dib, defiant, arrogant eyes clearly conveying what he wanted to say; 'No you can't'. Taunting the human even further, Zim then proceeded to stick out his serpentine tongue as he waved and flashed the tickets.
Madam Bitters—a relative of Dib's previous elementary Skool teacher—narrowed her eyes into slits as she glared at Dib. Dib shuddered as she crept towards him with that shadow-like movement, seemingly towering over him even though he knew he was a good half a foot taller than her. The resemblance she bore to his elementary Skool teacher was almost uncanny. If it weren't for her slightly younger looking features and her ever-so-slightly higher pitch of voice, he'd assume that he'd gotten stuck with the witch for a second time.
"He- He stole my homecoming tickets so I-" Dib attempted to justify, however he was cut off.
"Silence." Madam Bitters hissed. Under her precarious gaze, Dib felt uneasy as he watched her eye back and forth between himself and Zim. "Unfortunately at the Hi-Skool they've done away with the underground classrooms..." She trailed off, her tone almost one of disappointment. "So both of you, to the principal's office! I'll call him and let him know that you're on your way. You can explain yourself to him, Dib." She said smugly.
Zim had been grinning, eyes closed with his head bobbing along in agreement as he had listened to Madam Bitters begin to scold Dib. At the mention of both of them, Zim's eyes shot wide open and he visibly jerked into a tense upright position, mouth agape as he pointed a gloved finger back and forth between himself and the other teenager. "ZIM? Why does Zim have to go?!" He demanded, exasperated.
Dib groaned, growling under his breath as he held the menacing detention slip in his hand. No one ever believed him. By this point he was pretty convinced his words weren't even worth dirt. Though he supposed he was lucky that the instance had only been filed as a misdemeanor since there wasn't any physical proof to prove Zim's claims. He didn't understand how Zim was so good at being a compulsive liar.
Sighing he then pulled out the single dance ticket he had managed to get back from Zim, out of his pocket. He grumbled more complaints about the Irken under his breath. He had no idea how he was going to make only having one ticket work. He was lucky he had gotten the tickets that he had had, but since then they had long since sold out.
Having served his sentence, Dib trudged down the stairs muttering and grumbling under his breath all the way. He was surprised as he met Gaz walking off campus. He figured she had probably stayed after for that club meeting of the new gaming club someone had recently founded. Despite being a teenager in Hi-Skool now, just like he always had when he were younger, he began to rant and vent out all of his problems onto his sister.
Gaz tuned out most of his nonsensical rambling, her focus drawn onto the handheld game console in her hands, however Dib had caught her attention once he began complaining about how Zim still had his other ticket to the dance. "Just take him then." Gaz stated simply, not even bothering to look up from her game. "I don't see what the problem is."
"Gaz! We've been over this! I can't just take Zim! People judge you by who you go with!" Dib whined defensively.
"I mean you can't get any lower with your social status." Gaz muttered blandly under her breath. Looking up from her game she then roughly grabbed the taller boy by the collar of his shirt. Growling, she then threatened, "You better figure this out then. Find someone to take to that dance, or I'll end you."
Dib swallowed thickly, flinching at her venomous tone. "G- Got it." He stammered nervously, squirming under her piercing gaze.
"This is stupid." Zim hissed irritably, shooting a venomous glare at Dib. He let out an overdramatic huff as a tailor prodded at this and that with a tape measure. "Why does Zim have to wear your stupid pig filth apparel?"
"Because if I'm going with you, I'm not taking someone who looks like something the cat dragged in." Dib deadpanned, sifting through various assorted bows and ties.
"Speak for yourself." The Irken scoffed under his breath, letting out another aggravated huff. Viciously he then slapped the tailor's hands away as he began to measure around Zim's thighs. The Irken then pointed a gloved finger at the tailor with narrowed eyes. "AND YOU, keep your filthy hands off of Zim."
Dib groaned, already beginning to regret his decision. He pinched the bridge of his nose, turning to shoot another sharp, piercing glare at the invader over his shoulder. His patience was already beginning to wear thin with the alien, there was only so much of Zim's attitude he could handle. He could tell this whole ordeal was going nowhere. "Compliance Zim. Our deal is based on compliance." Dib reminded sharply.
"Whatever." Zim mumbled, crossing his arms firmly over his chest and muttering curses in Irken under his breath. "Defiled and violated by a pathetic, unworthy human." The invader continued to grumble in disgust, a slight lavender tinge coming across his cheeks.
Dib had reluctantly made a deal with Zim, and honestly he was surprised Zim had held his end of the deal this long. After several days of making no progress on trying to steal back his other ticket from the invader, he'd come to the realization he wasn't going to get it back. Finding someone who was going, but didn't already have a date or a group to hang out with, was theoretically impossible. With every day he came home dateless, Gaz always had a snarky remark and an even more convincing threat with each passing second.
So realizing he was at the end of his rope, grasping for threads, he'd made the deal that if Zim went to homecoming with him, cooperating and doing minor destruction in the process, once homecoming was over he'd give Zim a solid two days to do as he pleased, where no matter what happened, Dib wouldn't intervene. Making that sort of proposal absolutely killed his soul, especially the 'Defender of Earth' part of him. However, the more he considered it, his sister's wrath was much more terrifying and more agonizing than any scheme that Zim could ever possibly whip out and execute.
He'd tried to convince Zim to wear a dress and buy a different wig to lessen his embarrassment a little bit, but Zim absolutely refused to comply, though Dib couldn't really blame him. After he had made that suggestion, Zim had never let him hear the end of it. Despite being subjected to more of the alien's grating, headache-inducing voice, he had learned more about Irken anatomy. Ever since then, Zim had been in a pissy mood—more so than usual at least.
He wasn't sure why, but after a while, he had started to feel guilty about what he'd said. The feeling had festered in his chest, and he actually began to feel like he probably should've apologized to Zim, though in the end, his pride won out over compassion. He wasn't going to give Zim the satisfaction of hearing him say it.
But he had to admit, the alien actually cleaned up pretty nicely, all things considered. With the Irken decked out in a navy blue suit, with ebony pants, he actually looked pretty suave for once. Cute even. Maybe even a little kissable?
Dib frantically shook his head, cheeks burning red. He'd done it again. What was with him lately?! Had Zim poisoned him or something? He was suddenly pulled from his thoughts as Zim proudly held up what was supposed to be a magenta tie, but it was tied into very distinguishable knots, though it wasn't wrapped around the Irken's neck—thankfully.
"Zim what is that?!" Dib hissed as he snatched the silky piece of fabric from the alien's hands, his fingers running over the sharp, undeniable knots.
"It's a 'tie' Dib-filth." Zim scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Zim simply did as the name implies, I tied it." He stated rather pointedly in a matter-of-factly manner, scoffing as Dib continued to gawk at him appalled, the human's mouth hung agape with wide eyes.
"Zim, this is a noose! Why the hell do you know how to tie a noose?!" Dib practically screeched, as he shot the Irken a glare of disapproval.
"Military training. One of the various knots I've learned to eradicate the enemy—very effective for cutting off oxygen to pathetic lung breathers such as yourself."
Dib continued to stare with wide eyes, mouth still hanging open in disbelief. "Well this is not, how you tie a tie Zim! You can't just tie it any way you want to, there's a certain way you have to do it." Dib huffed as he shook his head and stole one last glance at the mini tie-noose in his hand.
Zim grumbled and mimicked Dib under his breath as he began to mock the teenage boy.
Dib frowned as he fumbled with the knots, trying to untie what Zim had done. After a few moments of fruitlessly tugging, he gave up with an an exasperated sigh. Cautiously looking around to see if anyone was watching, he then casually shoved the noose into a pile of clothes. Grabbing another tie, a few shades lighter than the previous one, he handed it to Zim. He then grabbed another navy blue tie for himself. "Now watch, I'm only going to do this once." Dib started, as he began to tie the tie on himself.
"This color is atrocious." Zim sneered as he flimsily held the new tie between his fingertips, holding it as if it were soiled and disgusting.
"Zim focus, just shut up and watch." Dib said, glancing up at the Irken, as he continued to tie his own tie. "There, see like that." He said proudly, admiring his work in the mirror. "Now you try it."
Zim tensed as he looked up at Dib, a nervous laugh pulling from his throat. He had been too distracted at expressing his disgust at the color of the tie, rather than actually watching Dib. He could feel Dib's gaze burning into him. Stiffly, he fumbled with the fabric trying to mimic what he had seen Dib doing out of the corner of his eyes.
"Zim were you even paying attention?" Dib asked annoyed, his lips pulled into a thin tight line as he pinched the bridge of his nose, briefly pushing his glasses up in the process.
"Ah! Of course Zim was paying attention!" The Irken immediately shot back as he continued to fumble with the silky fabric. His nonexistent brows furrowed in confusion and apparent frustration. Finally he gave a dramatic huff and slung it at Dib's face. "This is stupid!"
"You won't fit in if you don't wear a tie." Dib teased darkly.
After more grumbling and muttering, Zim snatched the fabric back from Dib and turned it over in his hands, still beyond confused about what he was supposed to do. "This is stupid and impractical." The invader grumbled under his breath.
With a sigh the dark haired teen held his hand out, motioning for the Irken to give it to him. "Here, give it, I'll do it."
"No! Zim is perfectly capable! He doesn't need your grimy human hands!" He hissed as he swatted the dark haired boy's hand away.
Dib stood back and watched the Irken for a while with an amused smirk tugging at his lips. After watching the Irken make a fool of himself for while, Zim's patience wearing thin, he finally stepped in and intervened before Zim ended up destroying the fabric. His family may have been well off financially, but he still didn't want to have pay more than had to—more specifically for a tie he wasn't even going to buy.
"Seriously Zim, just let me do it before you strangle yourself. I mean let's be honest, it'd be pretty fucking stupid if you offed yourself tying a tie." Dib snorted as he took the piece of fabric from a reluctant Zim.
"Yeah whatever." Zim scoffed, as another pout surfaced across his lips, his fingers thrumming impatiently against his other arm. Warmth flooded across his cheeks in a lavender tinge as Dib closed the gap between them and began to readjust the tie.
Dib hadn't realized how close he was to Zim until he pulled his hands away. He swallowed the hard lump in his throat, chewing on his bottom lip as his eyes darted away from Zim's. It had been the perfect opportunity to wrap his hands around Zim's throat and strangle him, but instead Dib had actually thought about jerking the alien's tie forward so they would 'accidentally' kiss. Dib frantically shook his head. For thinking such horrendous things, he subconsciously wanted to strangle himself. How the hell could he ever think of kissing someone as disgusting as Zim?! He isn't even human for crying out loud!
"Er... Zim- Zim has some matters to attend to. When is this primitive pig-filth gathering?" The Irken asked, an uncharacteristic sort of nervousness lingering in his tone. The lavender tinge painting the alien's cheeks, didn't go unnoticed by Dib.
"T- Tomorrow." Dib choked back, his face suddenly engulfed in fire, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his trench coat. "I'll pick you up. And you better know how to tie that damn tie." Dib teased as he playfully punched the alien in the arm.
Zim muttered something about a leash and filth under his breath as he dusted off his sleeves, seemingly brushing off the germs Dib had put on him. "And our deal?" Zim asked, a sort of sneering edge to his voice, as he narrowed his eyes at Dib, nonexistent brows furrowed.
With a reluctant sigh, Dib then said with shame laced in his voice. "I'll hold up my end as long as you hold up yours."
"Alright, Zim shall see you at this filthy, pig gathering."
Zim twisted this and way and that, trying to capture every angle of himself in the mirror, infatuated with how good he looked. He had to admit, that his suit would've looked better if it were some shade of red or magenta, like the color of the empire, but he had to admit, even though this wasn't really his color, he looked pretty damn good in it. "Zim truly is superior." He murmured in adoration as he admired himself.
Leery, his gaze then shifted to the small ivory box on the counter that contained the dreaded, thin, silky magenta fabric that lay almost ominously in its folded glory. His lips twisted into an ugly scowl, eyes glaring daggers at it like any second now it would rear back and strike him. Hesitantly, he reached for the tie. He held it limply between his fingertips, in the same manner he would hold a dead rat, disgust evident on his face. "Primitive. Stupid. Human. Knot. Things." Zim hisses between breaths, slender fingers struggling to accomplish what he's trying to do.
His cheeks suddenly flush a gentle lavender when he remembers how close Dib had been to him yesterday when he had demonstrated how to tie a tie. A sharp breath pushes past his lips as he can feel Dib's imaginary fingertips ghosting and brushing against his neck. He swallows the hard lump in his throat, antennae twitching furiously as he tries to get his mind off of Dib; Dib and his stupid silky, shiny, dark hair and his stupidly perfect grin and that annoying glimmer in his shimmering, gorgeous, fiery amber eyes. He lets out a frustrated growl as he tries focusing on the silky piece of fabric wrapped around his neck, but the dark haired boy keeps resurfacing in his thoughts.
Somehow, he finally manages to get it tied, and he's actually pretty impressed with himself when he finds it actually looks like a tie is supposed to look.
"Oooh Master, you look spiffy." Gir commented fondly as he came up and began nuzzling against Zim's lean form. "You's going on a date?" Gir continued, briefly peering up at Zim before an empty box caught his attention.
"N- No." Zim huffed almost defensively as he crossed his arms firmly over his chest, head arrogantly turned away, cheeks dusted in warmth. "It's for the mission Gir. It's nothing more than that."
X~X~X
"Gaz do I look okay? Should I gel back my scythe so it's even pointier? Or wait, is being too pointy a thing? Maybe... I should-" Dib started, pacing anxiously around the living room.
Gaz rolled her eyes, a dramatic sigh leaving her lips. "Dib, for the last time, you look fine."
Dib inadvertently chewed on his bottom lip in worry, fingers fidgeting with the hem of his overcoat. He continued to ramble, pacing ceaselessly, almost as if he hadn't even heard his sister's comment. "Hmm... Should I go with the blue or the black tie? Which one would Zim like better? ...Or maybe the red one? I don't know! His favorite color could be puke green for all I know!"
Puke green. He shook his head in distaste. Dib then let out a content hum of satisfaction as he briefly squeezed his eyes shut, Zim's face coming to mind, skin nowhere near such a disgusting shade. Zim's skin was a beautiful, eloquent, pastel lime; shiny, and flawless.
"And you're sure you're not gay?" Gaz asked sarcastically, not even looking up from the handheld game console in her hands, the bright screen illuminating her face. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but this sounds an awful lot like you're trying to impress him—and not doing this just for the sake of 'saving' humanity." There was a painfully evident teasing edge to her voice.
Dib was silenced for a moment, words caught in his throat as he stared at his sister blankly. Internally he was trying to convince himself that what he was doing was for self preservation, but the more he tried to reason with himself, the more he realized how much sense Gaz actually made. Since when did he care what Zim thought? Since when was he actually looking forward to seeing the alien? Since when had their devastating battles turned into petty banter?
His fingers find their way towards the hem of his overcoat, and fidget with the fabric in his hands—a nervous habit of his he'd developed over the years. "I'm not." He finally manages to shoot back at Gaz, though his words lack any resolve behind them.
Gaz briefly glances up at Dib, noticing the uncharacteristic break of silence. A sympathetic smile briefly flickers across her lips. "You should go with the navy blue." She offers, a certain gentleness to her tone. "Oh, and don't gel your hair. If your scythe is any pointier, you'll poke his eyes out."
This earns a snicker from the dark haired boy, as a grin upturns his lips. "Thanks Gaz."
A shaky breath breaks past his lips as he sighs, trying to push the metaphorical weight from his chest. It was just a stupid school dance, and not even prom at that, yet here he was feeling lightheaded with butterflies swirling around in his stomach. He gives Gaz a meek wave as he grabs his car keys from the coffee table. He gnaws on his bottom lip anxiously, as the engine roars to life as he inserts the key and turns it. He sits in the driveway for a moment to piece himself together, eyes inadvertently peering at himself through the rearview mirror. You got this Dib, he thinks to himself as he thrums his fingers against the steering wheel in uncertainty.
Backing out of the driveway, he can't help but feel butterflies scraping his insides as his foot is perched lightly on the gas pedal. It's just Zim, he reminds himself as his heart begins to crash into his ribcage and pound into his ears, the oddly colored house coming into view. Though the more he thinks about it, it's not just Zim, it's everything about him. Everything from his gorgeous, entrancing fuchsia eyes that sparkle when he gets passionate about anything, right down to that dopey, cocky, overconfident grin of his. Even his arrogant, egotistical personality had some appeal once you looked past all of the irken's boasting.
He swallowed the hard lump in his throat as he pulled over and parked in front of Zim's house. He wasn't sure what to expect honestly. He found his heart hammering into his chest in anticipation.
The moment the door to the crudely colored house flung open, Dib found himself wide eyed and awestruck. His heart seemed to skip a few beats as his eyes took in the alien's lean form. His mouth hung agape, his lungs nearly forgetting to breath. He nearly choked when Zim locked eyes with him. Quickly he turned away and nervously pushed his glasses up, heat corroding his face as a rosy flush traced all the way up to his cheekbones.
He tries not to stare at Zim, but he can't help but to keep stealing glances at the invader through the rearview mirror.
Zim's arm is perched on the edge of the door, propping his chin up as he stares absentmindedly out of the window. "Zim knows you're staring at him." The Irken says finally, though there's no hostility in his tone, but rather one of coy amusement. "You're not going to compliment Zim?"
"Y- You l- look good Space Boy." Dib all but whispers, his cheeks engulfed in flames, his voice stuttery and nervous. Had he been that obvious? He couldn't believe he'd gotten caught red handed.
A small smile tugs at the Irken's lips. He doesn't know what this disgusting, yet almost pleasant, warm mushy feeling setting in his spooch is, but he decides he likes it. His antennae twitch as he steals a quick glance at the dark haired teenager. "Only Good? That's almost insulting Dib-filth." Zim quips playfully. "I even managed to tie your primitive tie...and you didn't even notice." He whines, his bottom lip even protruding out into a sulky pout.
"Congrats, welcome to society, can I interest you in a boring corporate position?" Dib teases, overcoming the butterflies in his stomach. "Actually, I don't think you're capable enough to run a major enterprise, a position as a minimum wage fast food worker suits you better."
"Greasy food peasantry?! Never again!" Zim shrieks shuddering at the recollection of his time at Foodcourtia and his brief period of employment at McMeaty's. Zim then suddenly tenses, antennae twitching beneath his wig in irritation. "Wait! You dare insult Zim's competence?!"
Dib smirks in compliance.
"Zim is a thousand times more capable than you!" The Irken fumed.
"A thousand?" Dib asks, a smug playfulness laced in his tone as he quirks an eyebrow. "You mean you can count that high?"
Zim lets out a growl of frustration as he gives Dib a rough shove in the shoulder. "I hate you." He mutters angrily, face twisted into an ugly scowl.
Dib can't help the laugh that bubbles out his throat as he pulls the car into the school parking lot. The grin on his lips stretches even wider when he sees the adorable lavender tint that traces up the alien's features from embarrassment and rage. The hue gently caresses up the alien's sharp cheekbones, the color almost like a galaxy all in itself.
Almost meekly, Zim then asks quietly, "And you're sure this 'homecoming' isn't bringing forth my Tallests?"
"Yes Zim, for the last time, it's not some sort of intergalactic ritual—or at least I don't think it is..." He starts, mumbling the last part under his breath. "It's just a stupid dance."
Zim narrows his eyes at the dark haired teenager. "Zim reserves the right to gouge out all of the organs in your chest cavity, if I find out you're lying to me."
"Yeah whatever Spaceboy." Dib says nonchalantly, waving his hand dismissively. After a pause of silence Dib then lets out a hum of acknowledgement. "You really look up to your leaders that much? I mean from what I've seen of them, and from what you tell me about them, they don't really seem that... 'almighty'. I mean what do they actually do other than gorge on snacks and make fun of-"
"SILENCE!" Zim hisses, gloved hand clamped almost desperately over the human's mouth. Dib doesn't miss the small, sharp tremors of Zim's hand, or how the Irken's eyes seem to go almost glassy with a far off look in them, and he can hear the pain laced into that one simple word.
"Zim?" Dib asks gently, a lingering sense of guilt festering in his chest. Had he said something out of line? He clears his throat uneasily. "Did...did something happen?"
"It's nothing." Zim mumbles, eyes averted. "C'mon let's just go ahead and get this stupid 'dance' over with. The faster Zim does this, the faster he can conquer your filthy planet and prove the Tallests wrong."
Dib purses his lips, shifting his weight uneasily as he swirls around the punch in his cup. The blinking multicolor strobe lights flash and illuminate his glasses. He can feel the thump of the bass reverberate up into his ribcage. He presses his back against the wall, a sigh leaving his lips. Personally, he had never really been one for parties.
He turns and gives Zim a side glance. He can see the intrigue and awe painted all over the alien's features, how his faux lavender irises dart about and watch the dancing swaying bodies in curiosity. And he swears he sees Zim's wig twitch ever so slightly, along with the beat of the music. It's almost cute how Zim fidgets like an antsy child ready to play.
Then there's the way the lights bounce and dance across the alien's face, highlighting the sharp edges of it. There's also the way the dim lighting somehow seems to bring out the dips and curves of the Irken's body even more so than usual. Dib's tongue briefly darts over his bottom lip, teeth sinking into it. He doesn't know why, but he aches to touch that silky looking pastel lime skin, aches to rub his hands along those sharp hip bones, aches to thrash his lips against luscious green ones. He swallows the hard lump in his throat as heat corrodes up his cheeks. Hell, as much as he hated to admit it, maybe Gaz had been right after all.
Clearing his throat, he manages nonchalantly, "You wanna go out there don't you?" He gestures towards the dance floor with his head.
"N- No." Zim stutters, lying through his teeth as he haughtily upturns his head. "Zim's not interested in such primitive rituals." His words sound almost pained, near a whine.
"Shut up, its written all over your face." Dib laughs, a grin creeping across his lips. "Now come on Spaceboy, let's dance."
Zim lets out a surprised yelp at Dib's words, eyes going wide. He immediately swipes at his face desperately. "Who wrote on Zim's almighty face?!" He demands, still pawing at his forehead.
Dib holds back a snort. "It's an expression, there isn't anything literally on your face."
"I knew that." Zim immediately shoots back cockily, hands instantly springing back down to his sides. A noise of protest brushes past his lips as he finds Dib's hand locked around his wrist, dragging him towards the crowd of swaying bodies.
Zim stands awkwardly next to the dark haired teenager, eyes alert and attentive. He purses his lips, turning his head and shifting his gaze onto the various people around him. Finally, his lavender eyes settle on Dib, meeting fiery amber orbs. He shoots the human a confused shrug as he spins in a slow circle, attentively observing the strange movements and contortions of bodies around him. He finds it peculiar and honestly a little intriguing that they manage to move in synchronization to the strange pulsing, rhythmic vibrations and sounds.
"Dib-thing, is this...some sort of primitive mating ritual?" The Irken asks, tone serious. "These movements are strangely similar to those of species we saw in that documentary in science." Zim then narrows his eyes, gaze sharp and calculating as he eyes the dark haired boy up and down. "And you, Dib-filth, why aren't you partaking in this ritual? Perhaps do you already have a mate?" He asks almost accusingly as he pokes a finger at the human's chest.
"A m- mate?!" Dib near screeches, crimson heat corroding all the way up his face as he stares at the alien wide-eyed, appalled that he'd say such a thing. "Of course not!"
Though Dib can't help but picture a certain boy with lime skin and shimmering, otherworldly, fuchsia eyes when the word 'mate' rolls off the Irken's tongue; the boy who—despite their arguments and fist fights over every little thing—had stuck with Dib through thick and thin over all the years, when no one else would even glance in his direction.
"Dumbass! Dancing is just where you move your body along to the beat and the rhythm of a song! It doesn't necessarily have to be something sexual!" Dib huffs, cheeks still dusted in cherry blossom petals. He grumbles under his breath incoherently, shaking his head. Why of all times had the slow song meant for couples decided to play now. Dib sucks in a sharp breath, and readjusts his glasses.
"Like this." Dib says meekly as he reaches forward and grabs ahold of the Irken's gloved hands, lacing fingers with the alien. It's an odd feeling, his hand enveloping Zim's small palm, and his five fingers wrapping over the alien's measly three; Though he can't say he dislikes the feeling, rather, it makes his chest swell with something warm and filling. He then leads, instructing Zim to follow his movements.
He's surprised by how fast the invader picks up on the pattern of steps and movements, quickly following Dib along in perfect step. Though, since Zim's roots stem from being trained to be the perfect soldier from day one, he supposes it shouldn't be that surprising.
His gaze quickly flicks away from Zim's face, when the Irken catches him staring again. He swallows dryly, Adam's apple bobbing. Damn those lavender irises and those gorgeous piercing crimson orbs beneath. He can feel his heart flutter against his chest, making his throat tingle as its wings blaze embers into his cheeks.
Still moving in perfect sync with Dib's movements, Zim stares up into fiery amber eyes. His mouth twitches in discontent. In a rather bored tone he then asks, "If not for reproduction or for tactful military domination, what purpose does this 'dancing' serve?"
"Recreation."
"Fun? Zim finds no fun in this! I admit it's intriguing to observe, though Zim takes no interest in partaking unless it benefits the Empire!" After a pause and some haphazard consideration, Zim stares into sickeningly sweet honey amber with narrowed eyes. "Or Zim." He adds quietly, a dull mumble. With calculating eyes, he scans over the human's features; skimming over the dips of the rims of his glasses, eyes caressing the splotch of warm rosy peach tainting Dib's cheeks and poking out from under the ends of ebony plastic. His gaze glides down along a rigid jawline, and seamlessly trailing back up to the reaper's scythe, noting each small freckle that occasionally dots the boy's skin, like constellations mapped out across his cheekbones.
"Though...Zim supposes this isn't so bad." The Irken near whispers, lavender flaring across his cheekbones.
He averts his eyes, heart fluttering against his chest, his mouth dry. This feeling that festers deep within him, it's like a delicate burn that despite the twinge of pain, you can't help but nuzzle up to the flame. It's foreign and squishy like someone's bludgeoned his insides, and it makes his fingers tingle in unknown anticipation, and it leaves a sickeningly sugary sweet taste in the back of his mouth. And for whatever reason, he finds that he actually doesn't hate it. Maybe it's poison or maybe a circuit in his PAK has blown and it's a chemical imbalance, or maybe it's the first telltale malfunction that he's going to explode. Whatever it is, he decides it doesn't matter. Right now, the only thing coursing through his train of thought, is that he needs more of it, and for whatever reason, Dib seems to bring on this knee-knocking, heart racing, sickeningly sweet warmth that he craves.
He leans closer to Dib, and gazes up into warm, almost welcoming honey amber. His antennae twitch as he picks up the frantic increase of a steady rhythm; Dib's heart. His eyes settle for a moment on Dib's chest, and briefly he wonders if he'll be able to feel the organ crashing against his hand if he reaches forward and touches it, though the thought passes.
Dib's teeth find their way to his bottom lip as he gnaws on it almost anxiously. It's in this moment he realizes just how badly he wants to pull the alien closer, to wrap his arms around the invader's small, lean form, to wrap his arms around his pale green neck and thrash kisses against Zim's teasingly silky looking lips. He wants to wrap Zim up and call him his own, it's in this moment, with the gentle, slow music and the pale, pastel crystal blue lighting, that he realizes he doesn't want to share the invader with anyone. Zim was his enemy, his partner in crime, his inadvertent lifeline, and sometimes even an ally, and as much as Dib hates to admit it, he had even become a friend of sorts over the years. When Dib looks at the alien, his heart thrashes against his chest and his chest blossoms with unexplained warmth, warmth that traces up his veins and flares across his face, warmth that makes his brain short circuit and leaves him a nervous, stuttering wreck. He wants this. He wants Zim to be something more than just a petty enemy or ally, he wants something more.
Seeing Zim gaze up at him, lavender irises hiding away a world of ruby crimson beneath, seeing the lavender flush that sweeps gently across the Irken's prominent cheekbones, the way he cutely tilts his head to one side as if inquisitive, it sends the human's heart into overdrive. Briefly, he forgets the music, he forgets the lights, forgets the flurry of people around them, and in this moment, it's just him and Zim. It's just them and their interlaced hands, his other hand on Zim's hip, and Zim's other hand perched gently along his shoulder. He smiles fondly as he sees the pleased expression spread across the invader's features, it's nice not seeing a scowl tainting the Irken's lips for once.
Without even thinking, he leans forward, eyes squeezed shut, heart in his throat.
Zim gasps and near lets out a yelp as he finds the human's lips locked against his. His first thought is how many germs he's going to pick up, and with this his hand stiffens as it slides from Dib's shoulder, down to his sternum. He nearly shoves Dib away for his disgusting treachery, but then he realizes that whatever it is the human's doing, it doesn't exactly feel half bad. It makes his chest bloom and explode with something warm and tingly, something that Zim can only describe as squishy and cuddly. And his lips, his lips feel like he's just seen a thousand shooting stars, like he's been exposed to a new galaxy full of wonderment and awe, something new and truly incapable of words to describe it, something full of nebulas, full of bright blossoms and fireworks of vivid color.
He looks at the human almost dumbfounded as Dib pulls away, eyes wide and mouth hanging stupidly agape. He opens his mouth to say something, but he finds himself uncharacteristically speechless. His knees go weak and they nearly give beneath his weight, though Dib quickly lunges forward and supports Zim until he manages to steady his legs.
Finally, Zim manages, "W- What was that? What did you...do to Zim?" Though his tone lacks the normal accusatory conviction it normally has, instead it's replaced by an almost floaty, curiosity.
Beet red, Dib's hands fluster frantically about as he stutters, trying to explain himself. "I- I don't know what came over me, I'm s- sorry I didn't mean to—well I did...but the kiss I-"
"...kiss?" Zim repeats in thought, effectively cutting Dib's words off, silencing the other boy like he had brought down a guillotine.
Dib swallows the hard lump in his throat, wanting to take his tie and hang himself with it, or better yet, just to curl up into a ball and bury himself alive; He's mortified. He chews on his bottom lip in anxiety, he doesn't even register it as the tang of blood hits his tongue. What the hell had he just done?! This definitely crossed the line he and Zim had both unconsciously, and wordlessly set. For God's sake, what had he been thinking?!
He squeezes his eyes shut, his lips firmly pursed. He stands, half expecting Zim to slap him, or to puncture straight through him with his PAK leg, like a needle to a balloon. His eyes flash open in surprise though, Zim's response not exactly one he had expected.
"Zim... Zim likes this 'kissing'." The Irken admits shyly, shifting his weight uneasily. After a moment of thought he orders, "Again!"
"Wh- What?"
"Again Dib-stink. Zim demands you to kiss him." The alien repeats in a huff, almost as if he's insulted. He stands on his tiptoes, looking up at Dib expectantly.
"A- Again?" Dib asks, his voice wavering as he glances around them and realizes, as if for the first time, that in fact, he and Zim are not alone. He can feel several pairs of eyes trained on him and his dance partner, like thousands of tiny pinpricks into his skin. He swallows roughly, Adam's apple bobbing. His eyes fixate on Zim's pale, luscious lips, and looking at them, now he knows they feel like silk, and it only makes them that much more irresistible.
After a moment of indecision, torn between his lust and his pride, battling between what his heart wants versus his rationality, he finally gives in and locks lips with the invader. Fire burns through his flesh, like a wildfire tearing across his skin. His ears don't miss the hushed whispers around them, though he realizes that Gaz is right. His reputation is already shit, what else was there to lose? And fuck it, as much as he hated to admit it, there was another thing Gaz had been right about; he was gay. There was no denying it now. He was gay for a fucking space alien.
He smirks as he pulls away from the invader, shooting a grin full of daggers and a glare as cold as ice at anyone who dared to challenge him. He grabs the Irken's hand and intertwines it with his own, dragging the shorter along for the ride.
Dib holds the lean form of the boy next to him, arms draped loosely around a slender neck, lips pressed against otherworldly emerald flesh. Pulling away, he caresses Zim's cheek, fingers trailing along the invader's jawline. He gazes into beautiful lavender eyes, getting lost in the abyss of galaxies and sparkling nebulas, lost in eyes that have seen thousands of sights beyond description within the infinite cavern of space. He kisses lips that are sugar-sweet, lips that have thousands of stories to tell, lips that meet his just as hungrily.
"I hate you." Dib whispers as he pulls back once more, a fond smile coming across his lips as he nuzzles his forehead against the invader's. "Spaceboy." He then lunges forward and presses his lips to the alien's throat, sucking tenderly to form a love bite, marking the invader as his own.
"You dare mark Zim as your territory?!" The invader asks cockily as he narrows his eyes teasingly at the human, his serpentine tongue flicking out between his lips like a snake's. "In case you've forgotten slave, I'm the future conqueror of your pathetic dirt-ball of a planet." He snarls arrogantly, with more bark than bite. He then gives Dib a testy smirk. "You play with fire, you get burnt."
Dib lets out a pained yelp as something sharp strikes his side, sending a shooting pain up his spine. Instinctively he jolts and swivels his head towards the afflicted area. Claws, claws like daggers piercing through his skin, dragging across his hip and tearing through flesh, leaving a thin garnet trail in its wake. He lets out a hiss as his hand cups the raw flesh. Slowly, he peels up the corner of his shirt. The wound isn't very deep, but it's undeniably there, three distinct slashes engraved into his flesh.
"Maybe I like the way it burns." Dib murmurs seductively as he stares testily into Zim's eyes.
"God get a room would you!" Gaz hisses as she tosses a pillow from the couch at the duo. Zim is perched on Dib's lap, his thighs wrapped around Dib's waist, the shorter pinning the taller against the corner of the sofa, their limbs tangled up as they meet one another for sloppy, almost desperate kisses. "Can't fucking focus at all." Gaz mutters angrily under her breath as she grabs her controller and makes her way upstairs.
Dib smirks as he watches his sister's form recede from view. "Now that we're alone...I bet I can conquer you." Dib whispers breathlessly as he finds a hand tangled in faux strands of jet black hair.
"Is that a challenge stink-beast?" Zim narrows his eyes, a cocky grin coming across his features. Zim's eyes dart downwards between Dib's thighs, and quickly come back up to meet fiery amber. "Looks like you're already losing. Though Zim, knows he's irresistible."
Zim can feel the human's warm breath brushing in and out against his skin. He locks lips with the human again, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance. He doesn't resist when he feels the human tugging at his clothes. His hands are knotted in hair as dark as night as he grinds against the human, and hearing the sharp breaths that leave the human's lips as he twists his body make his heart pound in pure lust. He lets out a sharp gasp as Dib's hand snakes beneath his wig, cupping and stroking an antenna with his thumb. He breaks away from Dib, a string of saliva still connecting them. A shiver of ecstasy overcomes him as Dib's hands work against his antenna, a deep violet flush flaring across his cheeks. Head reared back and eyes squeezed shut in pure pleasure, he claws at Dib's now bare back, trailing and leaving flaring angry red marks across the other's flesh as they press themselves closer and make out with one another, lips meeting in tandem, both just as hungry and as desperate.
X~X~X
Professor Membrane rummages through his pockets, coming forth with a key. He turns the knob shortly after he inserts and turns the key, unlocking the door. He had received news from Gaz that Dib had managed to scrounge a soul into going to the dance with him, and that all in itself sparked hope within Membrane. Perhaps this could be a new beginning for his poor insane son, perhaps this special someone could pull his son from the depths of the paranormal, and lead his son into a life of normalcy and rationality. Hearing that Dib had managed to invite his dance partner over, Membrane had decided to take it upon himself to meet the lucky girl his son had brought home.
He steps inside with a bout of grace, though the moment he closes the door behind him, and steps foot into the living room, he's caught in a web of confusion. He watches as his son's body meets the pale lime green of the body of the teenager perched on top of his son's lap. Assessing them, he sees how they're both shirtless, eyes not missing the hickeys that litter the two teenagers' bodies as they make out with one another, hands tangled and knotted in frays of ebony hair. He can sense the lust in their body language, how they passionately kiss one another, how their bodies grind up against one another in mutual want. The chemistry between the two is undeniable.
He clears his throat as he comes up along the edge of the couch. "Son."
Instantly Dib's eyes flash open, panic racing through his veins as his heart thrashes uncontrollably against his ribcage. His hands begin to tremble as he briefly pulls away from the alien. His face burns in embarrassment as he glances up at his father's face, he can feel heat corroding his cheeks as he swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing. "H- Hey D- Dad." He finally manages, breath shaky and voice weak and vulnerable. He adjusts his glasses out of nervous habit as he gingerly wraps his arms around the the invader as if to shield him from his father's curious gaze.
"So I take it this is your homecoming partner?" Membrane asks, voice even.
Dib manages a shallow nod, his heart and his train of thought racing a million miles a minute.
Membrane is silent for a moment as his eyes roam over emerald flesh, up to ebony hair and finally fixating on lavender irises. He had been expecting his son to bring home a girl, though, before him lie another teenage boy, body still pressed firmly against his son's. "So son... you're-"
"Dad I'm gay." Dib interjects, cutting his father off as his gaze falls downcast, unable to meet Membrane's eyes. "This is Zim, and he's now my- my boyfriend."
After another wave of awkward, tense silence, Membrane finally lets out a hearty laugh. A smile upturns his lips. "That's right, he's your little foreign friend isn't he? I'm happy for you son, I'm glad you've found the person that makes you happy."
Dib's mouth falls agape in shock, his father's response not the one he had been expecting.
"As for you Zim, how about you join us next week for an outing at Bloaty's? I'd love to get to know more about you, especially now since you're dating my son." The professor starts, a bright smile on his face and a sort of shimmer in his eyes. "Just don't be too rough with him." He says with a suggestive edge to his voice. Membrane then states fondly as he pushes his goggles up, perching them atop his head, "Welcome to the Membrane family Zim."
A/N: Ngl, I've been working on and off on this fic for months (almost a year actually) as a side project, and I'll admit, this isn't really my best work, but it feels so great to finally finish it! I'm not really proud of this fic, but I decided to post it anyway just because I've spent so much time working on it. Anyways, thanks for reading, and regardless I hope you enjoyed. Feel free to leave a favorite or a review, all feedback is greatly appreciated :)
~TheCandyCravingDemon