Random idea...because I like this pairing

enjoy~

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"Today you will be put into groups of four or five. I'm tired of talking to you all and looking at your stupid expressions," Ms. Bitters hissed, glaring at everyone from her desk. "I don't care what you study, or even if you do. I just need a day to not talk to you all. Just have a damn book open in front of you and keep your voices down!"

Everyone save for a certain raven-haired teen and green-skinned alien moved to cirlce into groups. It didn't matter much, since as with every group day, there was always a couple of people that brought their desks up to both of the outcasts, just so they wouldn't get scolded by Ms. Bitters.

Dib sparred a glance at Zim as he turned his desk around, seeing Zim doing the same, though the Irken's movements seemed much more reluctant. As the years had gone by, he'd spent more time watching Zim rather than trying to expose him. Time had made the two grow in many ways. Now they tolerated eachother more. Zim had even calmed down, taking to not yelling unless it was important information...Like when a dodgeball flew at Dib's head last week, Zim had surprisingly shouted the teen's name, telling Dib to duck. Once it was over, Dib had looked over at the Irken in amazement. It had been stuck in his head ever since, replaying on a loop.

Dib tore his eyes from the figure, sitting in his seat and pulling out a random sketchbook from his back, doodling in it. It wasn't like Ms. Bitters would care what he did, anyway.

Over in Zim's group, the Irken was just as unproductive, coloring in every other line with pencil.

Zita, sitting next to Zim-along with a couple other students-looked over to the bored looking alien. A question had been pauging her and many of her peers for years and now she couldn't resist asking it now. "Hey, Zim. Can I ask you something?"

"Must you bother me?" Zim replied boredly, not even bothering to look at her. "If the instructor doesn't want to hear your voice, what makes you think I do?"

The two observing snickered at Zim's comment and Zita remained on target. "A lot of people are wondering if...maybe you have something wrong with you other than your skin color," Zim paused his movements and looked up to the purple haired girl, his eyes suspicious. Zita continued, knowing she had his attention. "I mean that you never seemed interested in anyone. I know some girls have asked you out and you just blow em off. Why is that?"

Dib's ears perked at that, catching it even from across the room. He could tell others did the same but were trying to be subtle, just as he was.

Zim smirked, looking back to his paper, still relaxed back in his seat. "Oh, so that's what this is about..." he mused quietly.

"So?" Zita pressed. "What's the deal?"

Zim sighed. "I'm just not interested in them. That's all,"

"Then what are you interested in?"

"What? Are you writing a book about me?"

"I'm serious,"

Zim glanced back to Zita and noticed that there were more curious stares settling on him. He looked about, narrowing one eye in curiousity. "You all want an answer? Really?" At the sight of several stupid nods, Zim smirked again. "What I'm interested in...is someone...strong-willed," Zim's smile became soft as he gazed away, fake violet eyes falling to a random spot on the floor.

Dib looked off to the side, seeing Zim's gentle smile and feeling his heart skip a bit. This wasn't the first time in the last few years that Zim looked so...sweet...And Dib still wasn't used to it. He loved it, though...

"And?" One of the other peers in Zim's group spoke up. "What else?"

Zim thought for a moment, still looking at some far off place. "Someone that doesn't submit. To anyone. No matter how much you knock him down,"

"Him? You're into guys?" The other peer spoke up.

"Is there something wrong with that?" Zim challenged, giving the peer in question a knowing look.

"No...Just explains a lot," They assured.

Dib felt his heart rate quicken even more. Zim liked guys? And he seemed to have already put so much thought into who he wanted to be with...Dib was actually a little shocked to hear that Zim wanted someone so...strong. He figured Zim would like the type he could order around.

"What else would you like in this dream guy of yours?" Zita asked, smiling. She figured Zim was gay. Now she was kind of proud that she was right. Not to mention a lot more comfortable talking to Zim. Knowing that Zim had romantic thoughts like everyone else made him seem more approachable. "Have you thought of anything else?"

Zim smiled at Zita for the first time, leaning onto his desk, really getting into the conversation. "Of course. He has to be smart. Very smart. I wouldn't be able to stand talking down to someone for the rest of my life. And...He has to be taller than me,"

Dib quirked a brow at that and had to stop himself from turning fully to face Zim with a dropped jaw. Forcing himself to keep his eyes on his notebook, his thoughts whirled. Taller...They had to be taller than Zim? But Zim's race used height as a symbol of superiority and strength...Did that mean Zim would be submissive in...? Dib's face heated up suddenly and he looked off to the window, purposely facing away from the alien. His thoughts were becoming too...R rated...

Zim continued speaking. He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and smiled even wider, knowing he was being heard by the one he was speaking for. "And he has to be strong physically. Not a body-builder, mind you. But...being a weakling would be out of the question. And he has to be...morally just. So much so that if he had to, he would simply leap into some horrific situation with complete disregard of his own safety. And...he has to be a little dark...A dark...sense of humor, dark-like interests...I want someone...not like anyone else," He said the last part softly...Dream-like...

Dib got up the courage and slowly looked over to where Zim sat, not expecting those fake violet eyes to latch onto his own, if only for a split-second, before Zim looked back to Zita. Dib couldn't stop looking at the Irken. His golden eyes scanned over Zim's form like they had millions of times before, taking in how he moved and sat...How he lifted a gloved hand to brush some fake hair from his face...And again...he thought something he was frightened to think...but couldn't help himself: Just why the hell haven't I told hom how beautiful he is? He already knew the answer. He was supposed to be Zim's enemy. He wasn't supposed to think nice thoughts about Zim. He was an alien...

"...How did you know you like guys, anyway? Were you ever with someone else?" Keef spoke up from another group.

Zim's smile faded, looking to Keef very seriously. "...No. I wouldn't even say I like 'guys'...I just like one,"

Dib's eyes widened a fraction. Just when something almost ripped from his throat, the bell rang and everyone rushed out. Dib hurried to get his bag, shoving his sketchbook in it as he saw Zim calmly stride out.

With a rush to his step, Dib went to the front entrance, seeing Zim again, the alien looking off and watching the others leave. "Zim!" He moved to stand beside the other, the Irken looking up at him. Up...That's right...I'm taller than him now...just by a little...

Zim looked calmly up at Dib, as though he was expecting this to happen. "Yes, Dib? What is it?"

"About...what you said back there..." Dib began, feeling nervous.

"Yes?"

"...You just said all that to make them quit talking about you, right? You don't want them to think there's something wrong with you. Isn't that it?"

"...No," Zim said quietly.

Dib gripped the handle of his bag tightly, wringing it in his hands. "So...it's all true then? All of it?" Zim just smiled, confirming what Dib thought. "So there really is someone?"

"...Yes," Zim replied, looking off again.

"...Have you told him?"

"...Should I? I think he'd prefer if I didn't...I'm more...expecting him to either...run away or...yell at me for it or...anything, really, that will result in me never being able to speak to him again. To be honest, I'd rather be forced to keep a secret than be forced to never be in contact with them again,"

"...What if there was a third option?"

Zim looked back to Dib, thoughtful. "What do you mean?"

"What if he felt the same?"

"...Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"...Feel the same?"

Dib felt the breath escape him all at once, unable to take it. He smiled nervously and wrung his bag handle in his hands again. "Y-yeah...I...I l-...lo-...I care about you..."

Zim smiled back up at him, quietly admiring the face he'd grown to love. Slowly, he offered his hand. "Would you...like to walk with me for a while?"

Without a second thought, Dib smiled even brighter and took Zim's hand into his own, pulling the Irken...no...his Irken...close to his side.

Oooooooooooooooo

end!