Secret . . . Santa?
Ah, yes. Another stupid Earth ploy to force its foolish inhabitants to pretend they liked one another. Love thy neighbour, and all that nonsense. Zim shook his head as if to rid his lekkus of the hideous buzzing about the mall. Oh, how he loathed this time of year; the busy crowds, the noisy humans, the terrifying mascots lingering outside stores . . . He shuddered in disgust. Only the threat of exposure forced Zim into the heathing mall; everyone in class was randomly assigned a fellow classmate to buy a 'secret Santa' for. For Zim to neglect this tradition would be seen as strange. Abnormal. Inhuman . . .
But why of all people, am I assigned to the Dib?!
Zim spat on the ground. Dib . . Just to think of his name churned Zim's spooch. Even after so many years his head boiled over at the thought of Dib, and yet, through that, hate was but a fraction of the brew. Who else was there for Zim to run to, after banishment fell upon him? Who else was there to hold him close and wipe away the tears?
"Aw, Mastah dreaming of Mary again!"
Zim shot GIR a look of pure venom. "I am not," he hissed, but he could not bring himself to kick GIR away, as he once would have done. GIR was sweet; an innocent being. When animosity brewed between Zim and Dib, only GIR remained at his side. Now, banished to Earth, GIR seemed not to care for his master's fall from grace. Like his disguise the Earth dog, GIR loved his master unconditionally, but he wasn't one to experience empathy.
Not like the Dib . . .
Again with that human! Why, why did his thoughts revolve around Dib? Zim quickened his pace along the mall shops. His eyes flitted here and there from store to store: bakeries, gaming stores, jewellers . . . Nothing called to Zim, and he hissed in frustration. The Dib was not his friend, but neither were they enemies - not since the fated call. From that day on they still fought; they yelled and struck one another, but afterwards they cleaned their wounds together, and sat upon the sturdiest arm of a tree. Isolated from the world they knew only each other. They would talk, or just sit alone together. From hate had spawned something unfathomable, something that couldn't compute with Zim's rigid PAK; something for stronger than hatred, deeper than friendship. The Dib was the Dib. He was special . . .
". . . And you there, young man! You looking to buy your a great gift for your special someone this Christmas?"
Beneath his wig Zim's antenna perked and he spun on his heels. The calling female beamed at him; she lingered outside a brightly lit pink store, filled with items that meant nothing to Zim but he didn't care. Dib was special, no doubt about that.
". . . I am, actually," Zim bared his teeth in a grin. "Tell me more, drone."
". . . Aw, sweet man! Whoever got me this, you rock!" The whole class burst into polite applause. Every student wore a grin, ether clutching their gift to their chest, or waiting for the form tutor to call their name so they too might collect their secret Santa. The biggest grin belonged to Torque of course, tossing his brand new football into the air with expert skill, and despite his isolation from the class Dib could not help but allow himself a small measure of satisfaction. He dared not to tell Torque that his secret Santa gift was from him; no doubt the jock would instantly neglect it.
"Okay, next!" The tutor picked another gift at random from the pile. Unlike the elementary teacher Ms Bitters, Mr Love seemed always bright and cheerful. Sometimes, it was a streak too creepy for Dib to tolerate.
". . . Next is Dib!" Mr Love dropped the gift onto Dib's desk, beautifully wrapped. The box was fairly large; a rectangular shape tied almost messily with a red ribbon and attached with a small label.
To Dib-stink. Have a happy Xmas thing or I will destroy you!
from a random human worm baby you don't know.
A small chuckle became Dib's lips; Zim was the most unsubtle person in the whole room. Dib cast him a look and Zim quickly turned away, twiddling his thumbs and he gave a tuneless whistle. "Silly Irken," Dib muttered with a smile, and he looked back to his gift.
"What's the betting someone got him a dog turd again?" Someone behind him yelled, coaxing the whole class into hysterics. "Hey Dibby, did ya get another dog shit like last year?!" The laughter grew briskly as a storm - something Dib had long since grown used to. Unfazed, he rolled his eyes again. Unlike his childish classmates Dib was not one to tear open a gift straight away. A good thing too, as he pealed away a corner of paper a coarse hue of red suddenly burst over Dib's cheeks. He lurched to his feet.
"Show us the crap Dib,"someone else cried. "Show us what you g-"
"Oi! Release me, Earth-monkey!" Zim roared out; Dib's hand grasped his wrist like a vice and dragged Zim from the classroom and down the hallway, ignoring the Irken's screams of fury and his vicious claws raking into his skin.
"Geddin' here!" Dib ripped open the door of a disabled restroom and shoved Zim inside. "What the hell are you playing at, Zim?!" He hissed, slamming the door shut. Zim flinched as the door's lock clicked shut. Sudden as a storm, all unease drained from sight; Zim snorted and looked away.
"I don't know what you're talking about, foolish hyooman."
"Don't play dumb, Zim. I recognise your writing," Dib retorted. "What on Earth were you thinking, getting me this?!" He shoved the box close to Zim's face, only partially opened, the pretty red ribbon appeared almost dim, beside Dib's burning cheeks.
Zim swatted the box away. "Tcha! Stupid, ungrateful hyooman!" he spat. "Okay, you got me. I'm your secret Santa! And you know what, I didn't have to get you anything! Mr Love offered to let me trade secret Santas with Zita, so be thankful to me! Besides . . ." Zim paused, and with it his rage seemed to vanished. It happened a lot, when Zim and Dib were alone together, how rapidly Zim's anger would dissipate. ". . I've researched all about hyooman Christmas traditions. You hyoomans receive sticks and such for Christmas, do you not?"
Sticks . . ? It took Dib a moment to figure out what Zim meant. At once, his face fell into his palm. "Candy sticks, Zim, like candy canes. Not vibrating dildos!" Dib ripped away the wrapping paper; the very sight of the whole box set his cheeks burning like a wild fire. "Do you have any idea what this is?!"
"Of course I do! I'm not stupid!" Zim's finger jerked towards the box. "It's the ultimate pleasure for me and my special someone this Christmas."
. . . What? The blood within Dib's veins came to a halt, just for a moment. His arm lowered, inch by disbelieving inch. When his heart resumed beating it fluttered and leaped throughout his chest like a mad thing. "I . . . Zim, d'you know what that means?" Dib rasped. He'd always believed his feelings to be one-sided; how could he not? Never during his time on Earth had Zim displayed a decree of understanding towards human emotions. Never before had Dib caught Zim looking at him as he did to Zim, his eyes full of worship and wonder. Oh, just the mere sight of Zim infuriated Dib, yet simultaneously filled his world with longing and meaning.
How long? How long have I felt this way for Zim? Since the Tallest had banished him? Since Zim first vanished seemingly for years?
Or was it before all that?
Could I . . . Could I have felt this way from day one . . ?
"Foolish hyooman. Of course I know what it means." Zim rolled his eyes. "Among my kind, an Irken's 'special someone' is their gravitational pull. The focus of all their emotions - hatred, anger, misery . . ." Zim's voice trailed off and in the blink of an eye, a purple hue blazed across his face. " . . . Lust, loyalty, devotion. Love . . ." Zim closed his eyes; never before had Dib seen the Irken to look so . . . There was no other word for it - embarrassed. The sight was almost flattering, and it filled Dib's soul with such joy.
"The focus of our entire existence," Zim continued. Seemingly, his previous humiliation was gone but the purple blush remained to set his cheeks aglow. "Our special someone is the first thing we think of upon waking up, and our final thought before recharging our PAKs. Nothing in our lives can be done without our 'special someone'." Now Zim raised his head; never before had Dib seen him blush so greatly. "Why?" the Irken demanded. "Does a human's 'special someone' have a different meanin-"
He didn't quite finish. Zim's eyes shot wide open, but then they slipped shut again, and Zim found himself melting into Dib's sweet tasting mouth. Confinement was forgotten, the previous fights, gone. Banishment meant nothing any longer. All Zim could focus on was the intoxicating delight of Dib's tongue; it danced in perfect stride to Zim's. His body went lax, all he could focus on was his special someone.
His special Dib.
Inch by reluctant inch, they broke apart. Naught but a fine trail of saliva connected their lips. That, and a single smile, and Dib leaned in and licked sweetly at Zim's chin.
"No Zim. It doesn't mean something different on Earth. You're my special someone too." Another kiss, just as sweet but more fragile, as if a single influence outside their world might shatter them apart. When Dib's fingers brushed silk-soft skin, Zim's cheek only glowed deeper beneath his deft fingers.
"Tell me, Zim," said Dib softly, and he raised his unwrapped gift to rest before Zim's eyes. "D'you have any idea what this even is?"
Zim hesitated. He averted his gaze and though his lips moved, no sound escaped. He shook his head, and that alone saw Dib's grin grow wider still. He leaned in, and kissed at the delicate cords of Zim's throat.
"Wanna find out . . ?"
I'm so getting coal in my stocking for this one ;p