"Sleeper Agent"
'Chapter Thirty-Six'
Things had gotten a lot colder in a short matter of time.
Zim couldn't say exactly how long they'd been attached to the filthy hotel floor, but judging by his PAK's internal clock, he estimated that it had to have been at least an hour in Earth time. Not that it felt that way, but his systems did not lie, unless that part of his PAK was dysfunctional as well. Zim was pretty sure it wasn't.
But the part that WAS malfunctioning was certainly doing just that, because Zim had begun to shiver even with Dib's body heat making up for his own. Worse yet, the body heat wasn't starting to feel like much at all, and Dib's sleeping body gave off a shudder or two from the chilly temperatures as well. But Zim was set in his decision to stay on the floor, not intent on moving himself from his curled-up position on top of Dib's naked form.
Instead Zim eventually unwound one of his PAK wires from around Dib's body, and used it to drag down the threadbare comforter from the hotel bed, draping it over himself to fend off the cold. He'd been reluctant to do this at first, knowing that the blanket would also warm Dib in turn and would defeat some of the punishment that lying on the tiled surface was supposed to; but in the end, bearing through the temperatures himself JUST for the sake of disciplining the human just wasn't worth it.
Besides, just the floor being painfully hard and dirty should be plenty enough.
Zim stared off into the walls of their tiny room, a thoughtful look crossing his features as he lost himself in the monotone duet of his PAK humming and the Dib-worm breathing. There was an ease about him, but the stiffness of his PAK wires belied Zim's seeming lack of tension. He'd been telling himself that he could get up any time he wished, but every opportunity was dismissed with barely any recognition and the alien seemed content to just lay there, his antennae twitching almost restlessly and his eyes heavy-lidded.
Content was one way to see it. Desperate—as the mechanical limbs snaked securely around the human's body, forbidding any separation on their part—was entirely (and not improbably) another.
Dib slowly started to rouse awake; the quiver in his brow and the discontented groan easily alarming Zim to his state of consciousness. He was painfully aware of just how hard the surface he laid upon was, and just how cold Zim's sticky body felt against his chest.
His hands absently ran up the Irken's smooth sides, resting on his shoulders as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, staring hard up at the ceiling to try and get his bearings. It took him a whole minute to understand where he was and what had previously happened.
He frowned to the bruised feeling of his spine, as well as the throbbing tender feeling in his neck. Though, beyond the few hurts here and there, Dib was definitely touched to find the alien curled up so easily against his chest.
Dib was beginning to find he liked these quiet moments best, just laying together, breathing the same air, content in their mutual satisfaction of each other. He had missed this most of all, missed seeing this more vulnerable side of Zim.
He sighed out a breath as he tried to figure what time it was – it couldn't have been so long since he had fallen asleep, maybe two hours at the most; though in all honesty he couldn't really recall falling asleep to begin with.
Dib tried to shift his position so he could get a view at Zim's face but it was then he was aware of the tension in the Pak limbs; the metal appendages not allowing him much free movement, definitely not enough to peer down at the smaller male. Deciding against struggling out of Zim's hold he just laid back on the tiles, "Hey," He offered, his tone thick with sleep, "You cold?" Not the most intelligent thing to offer in the morning, but he had just noticed the blanket draped across Zim's shoulders, the sight of it derailing his previous train of thought.
Why didn't Zim just move them to the bed if he was cold? Or, well, it was Zim, why didn't he just move himself to the bed?
Dib obviously was unaware of the 'punishment' Zim had attempted to bestow upon him as he slept.
Zim's head snapped up at the sound of Dib's waking groans, feeling the vibration in the human's chest. The boy shifted beneath him, and at his drowsy question Zim twitched his stalks. He frowned but drew the blanket closer around his shoulders nonetheless.
"Not at all, lazy smell-beast." The PAK limbs loosened up a little as they slithered about, languidly, just ghosting about Dib's limbs—as if pretending they hadn't been so tightly constricting just a second ago. Zim did not make any efforts to seek out Dib's face or meet his gaze, ignoring the large, five-fingered hands that sat atop his small shoulders. "You make foolish assumptions. Zim is not bothered by little nuisances like—like temperature."
"Sure," Dib offered in response, not believing the Irken at all though he decided against pressing the issue further, "How long have I been out?" He asked after a moment, reluctantly shifting his body up and away from Zim now that the metal limbs weren't holding him as strongly as before.
He reached out behind himself, grabbing the wall for support as he pulled himself up, forcing Zim to fall in his lap from the change of position. He wrapped his free arm around the Irken's waist, loosely holding the blanketed alien, "Shouldn't we be leaving?" He asked absently, leaning his head towards Zim's antennae unconsciously though he caught himself before he made contact, "You did fix the ship didn't you?"
He didn't actually want to leave, not right now, but he assumed Zim's patience had probably been stretched to the barest wire with all the drama that had happened since then to now. Dib glanced to Zim's expression, still feeling a little apprehensive over everything that had transpired but he didn't think it was wise to bring it up.
Without thinking his lips touched the base of Zim's feeler, drawing down to plant a firm kiss to the top of the Irken's skull as he held the alien closer against him, staring off at the open shower just beyond them.
There was still unrest in his system, questions buzzing in his brain. He wanted to address his own needs, his worries from before, the simple unrest that came with unknowing if all this wouldn't last – if Zim would fall back to his usual character and cast him aside again.
He closed his eyes, inhaling Zim's scent as he calmed himself – there were more important things to worry about, he reasoned, this wasn't the time.
Zim, however, thought otherwise. But of course, his concerns varied considerably from the human's.
The kiss startled him, not giving him time to immediately answer Dib's questions, or ask who gave the child permission to get up off the floor. It felt—he was loathe to admit it—pleasant, the soft lips grazing his head, and the tiny gesture was tender. A slight look of pain crossed his features as he tried to slide away from the affection, an unconscious purr not quite swallowed in response and fortunately transformed into something akin to a growl.
"Cease your questioning of Zim," he groused, not looking at Dib. One of the PAK legs curled in-between them and pushed against Dib's chest. "And I didn't say you could remove yourself from the floor, Dib-filth."
The blanket stayed wrapped around the little Irken, his head popping out from the infamous cocoon of cloth that only made him appear smaller in its grasp. "Your sleep cycle has barely been an Earth hour, Zim thinks. And of course I fixed the ship!" He sharply turned then, facing the human. "Zim repaired it a long time ago, and we could have left this stinky trash-heap had you just listened and stayed here, instead of going out to that horridly hairy smell-beast and—and—"
An accusing look was thrown at Dib, but the sentence was never finished. Zim looked straight at the child, his gaze colored with something almost unreadable and then—hesitance. He closed his mouth with a frustrated "tch" sound, as if he was considering saying something and then thought better of it, for once in his life.
Dib pressed his back up against the wall in response to the Pak limb that had rudely shoved against his chest. He frowned just slightly to the bad mood Zim seemed to be in, dropping his gaze down to the top of the alien's head. Despite the distance Zim had tried to put between them, he still kept his arm wrapped around his waist, keeping the Irken perched in his lap despite his sour disposition.
However, as Zim struck him with that angry claret gaze and ranted on about the previous day—about Dwicky—about his own mistake, Dib fixed Zim with a hard stare of his own.
"Don't even bring that up," Dib snapped, "I said I was sorry about that, and I am," He said, his mood broken by the icy grip of guilt and apprehension, "But you didn't—gah, just drop it, okay?" He offered in a huff, not wanting to repeat the same fight from the hours before.
Dib didn't know what to make of what he saw in Zim's eyes, but it cooled any remaining upset he might've been feeling. Despite the distance Zim might've wanted, Dib reached up with his free hand and cupped the alien's jaw, forcing his head up with a tender coaxing of his fingers.
Dib didn't want the bad blood to boil between them again; he didn't want to feel all those constricting emotions of self-doubt and desperation.
"I'm sorry," He said sincerely, his gold-brown eyes keeping Zim's stare, "It didn't mean anything," He murmured gently, leaning close to the alien despite the restricting limb pressing into his chest; his lips a mere inch from the Irken's, "We can leave," Dib brushed their mouths together in a brief chaste movement before he drew back; thinking better of the kiss, "Whenever you want, we've wasted enough time." He said a little dejectedly.
The alien's brow furrowed, studying Dib, and when the human leaned in to briefly meet their lips Zim was too surprised by Dib's guile to back away, or use his PAK limb to shove the boy aside. He saw the despondency in Dib's expression, and yet the boy quietly yielded to him, not fighting at all.
His spooch twisted wretchedly in response. Zim's face contorted in confusion at his own body's reaction. There it was again. This damn feeling. Stiffly he began to squirm himself out of Dib's hold, looking at the human as if the boy was suddenly covered in Earth water. Zim managed to cool his features a little, trying to hide the sudden upset.
"S… Stop. Stop doing that." Unconsciously Zim clutched at his chest, though the motion was almost hidden by the blanket he donned. Clawed fingers grazed his own naked flesh, almost intent on reaching inside and tearing out the damn feeling altogether. "Stop making things… things…all…," he tried to word it, say it without admitting anything. "All… squishy… ish… like. Zim doesn't..." His words trailed off, his gaze sliding away from Dib.
Dib's brow furrowed in response to Zim's contorted expression, looking as though the Irken was fighting with himself though Dib couldn't understand why. However, he didn't get a moment to think further on it before that look had been washed away and Zim was wriggling away from him.
Zim managed to get seated on the tiled floor but didn't get further than that as Dib roped him in with the arm still around his middle; his body leaning forward to compensate the movement. He loomed just slightly over the Irken, his hand having found the small of Zim's back – the fingers wormed their way to press against naked skin.
"Stop doing what?" Dib interjected though as Zim continued he sort of began to understand what Zim was trying to explain.
He tilted his head down towards Zim, a playful grin befalling his lips just as the Irken slid his gaze from him, "Squishy-like?" Dib nearly teased, "I make you feel squishy?" Though such a confession caused Dib's heart to flutter in that pleasant way, and despite his slight teasing, he was elated with the idea that Zim might feel something for him other than possession and hate.
…and if he were correct about what Zim described…
Dib lifted his free hand, running it up and under the folds of Zim's blanket, ghosting across his hip and side before he planted his palm against the Irken's chest; feeling the rhythmic beats of the alien's heart under his digits, "Here," Dib said, his tone lowering just slightly into a gentler octave, losing the playful lilt from before as he leaned his head closer to one of Zim's stalks, "Do you get a fluttery feeling here?" He drew his fingers down Zim's curved chest, towards his stomach, "Does it feel like everything is twisting in knots here?" Dib closed the distance as he rested his lips against the base of Zim's antennae, his hand splayed out across Zim's stomach, "Is that what the squishy feeling is?"
Zim found himself caught in the tangles of his blanket—the security of it turning into a smothering trap—and Dib's arm, unable to scoot away as the human advanced. But he'd been too distracted with the sudden spark in the boy's stare, at the strange, laughing tone in his voice, to even consider moving. Was he mocking him, the great ZIM? With that stupid dirt-child grin of his?
But then warm, callous pads of human digits had snaked their way under his protective shield and Zim squeaked a little, his head tilting down to try and spot the infamous hand. He felt Dib's exhale atop his skull just as the teen's palm was placed gently above where his heart should be, and then to his stomach, asking questions while the warm puffs of his breath laced his thin feelers and made it difficult for him to concentrate on the inquiries being asked of him.
"I-I…." Zim wet his lips, his voice catching in his oddly dry mouth. "Yes…," he answered, quieter than he'd intended. Dib's hands pulsed with an enticing warmth, something his own body was lacking. He swallowed. "That and—and a pain… here." His own hand came back then, claws gripping to where his heart muscle resided. "Zim doesn't like it."
Dib couldn't help but smile as Zim elaborated on his feelings, moving his hand back up to lace his fingers with Zim's claws as the Irken gripped at his chest. He drew his head down into Zim's line of vision, personal space absent as he kept the alien pressed close against him, "I feel that too," He murmured, "When I'm with you." His gentle smile coaxed itself into a grin at Zim's obvious dislike of the feeling. He placed a quick kiss on Zim's lips as he playfully added, "It means you like me."
Zim frowned, not at all sharing in Dib's amusement. His antennae flattened out just as an awkward flush crept up along his cheekbones, more in frustration than any sort of innocent embarrassment. "Like you…?" He said. A small part of him echoed the words, even when the rest of him answered back with the denial he was accustomed to.
Affection.
Zim knew it; he knew the foreign word just as he knew the other ones, like worry, concern… love. Love he was familiar with, but not in this context. He loved snacks, he loved to make things explode but… he did not feel his throat tighten and his chest ache when they weren't available. Only when the Dib had near-died, and he sure he did not like him, let alone….
He pulled his face from Dib's, shying his body away as much as he could despite the teen's warm grasp, looking up at him with an almost-tangible dread at the thought. His lips still tingled from the brief kiss, and his spooch flopped unnecessarily.
"Zim does not like you!" He insisted, but his voice wasn't as strong as he'd hoped it would be. "Zim just—it—there is… just, tell Zim how to make it stop." His gaze flashed briefly with desperation, but he hid it swiftly, not permitting the weakness to grow; to be displayed. "Tell me! Zim demands an antidote! I've tried to eradicate it, but… nothing has worked." He glared up at Dib, trying to ignore the height difference, the closeness, the everything. "It's your fault, so tell Zim how to fix it!"
Dib could see through the Irken's attempt at covering up what he had been feeling, noting his weakened tone and the desperation that flashed just briefly in his gaze before he became incensed by the thought of an antidote.
As Zim shied away the human reluctantly drew his hands away from him, leaning up against the wall despite his want to push the alien down and force whatever was left of his denial out of his system.
But, that would get them nowhere, and he was sure they had to get up and moving soon before Keef got any closer to the Massive.
"Eradicate it?" Dib quirked a brow, catching onto Zim's lingering words, "What did you try to do?" Seriously curious over the notion, wondering just what Zim might've tried to cut the sensation from his system. Dib sighed almost in exasperation, "You're so insane Zim," He murmured, "There isn't an antidote, love is love, you can't just fix it," He waved his hand carelessly; "It's just what it is. You can't choose who you have feelings for," Dib added, "Obviously."
Since he had never once thought he'd grown to care about Zim of all people on his planet – and he would have never once thought he'd be traveling in space with him to save the Irken race no less just so the stupid defect of an Irken could plant himself right back down on Earth and plot it's demise just like old times.
Though, he couldn't deny the warm feeling that had spread through his system at the notion that Zim did care. Even if he didn't want to care, he still did, and that was enough to quell whatever lingering doubts Dib had been having.
Dib shook his head, clearing thought, before finally pulling himself up from the floor, sticking to the wall as he blindly began to wander back into the bulk of the bedroom, "Help me find my stuff." He called to Zim, though didn't entirely expect the alien to help.
The Irken scowled, watching Dib wearily from his spot on the floor. "Why should I?" He spat in return. "You did not help ZIM in the slightest, so I see no reason to." After a moment of glaring Zim got up as well, keeping the blanket around him as he found his own clothes and brought them towards the bed, grumbling about how wrinkled and covered in germy dust they were.
"Zim will find a way to reverse the effects of the… lurv thing," he assured Dib, as he sat down on the bed and observed the other's clumsy attempts at finding his clothes. "A simple personality cleanse is optional, but Zim's AMAZING characteristics would be lost as well, and that is unacceptable," he explained loftily. "And obviously, staying away from you and your large head didn't exactly work…tch, so stupid…." He was mostly grumbling to himself now, shedding his blanket and wiggling his way into his tight uniform-tunic, his head popping out of the high collar with a little bit of effort.
Dib had managed to find his pants and shoes by time Zim sat over on the bed. He reached to pick up his shirt, absently feeling in the folds of it to find his glasses. He set his lenses back on his face, blinking as he adjusted to his crisp new vision before he shot a look over to Zim, "That's why you were ignoring me?" Dib said flatly, though it was more of a statement than a question.
Though, that admission put some things in perspective now. He understood Zim's behavior from before, it made more sense now than it did then. He felt as though he should have known that, it seemed so obvious now.
With a sigh he tugged his shirt over his head before he leaned down to shrug his coat back on. He smoothed his clothes in place before he turned towards Zim, "We can go whenever you want." He said after a moment, his gaze flicking around the room as he tried to find his bag of supplies.
His brow furrowed as he continued his fruitless searching, finally stepping away from his spot by the door as he searched the room. He checked under the bed, in the closet, by the far window—
…where?
It was then that Dib remembered he hadn't come back to the hotel with his supplies. Actually, he didn't remember leaving the bar with them at all.
Dib groaned, turning his gaze back on the Irken, "I, uh," He tucked his hands in his pockets, "Left my supplies at the…bar," He said, flushing slightly at his own stupidity, having not wanted to see the bar or Dwicky ever, ever again after what had happened. It would be far too embarrassing—but it wasn't like he had a choice, he couldn't leave without them, "I could just go get them real quick if you wanted to go to the Voot." He said quickly, almost hoping Zim wouldn't want to follow him—but after what had happened before, he severely doubted Zim would let him go there alone.
And Dib was severely right, because at the tentative mention of the bar Zim's antennae instantly flicked up, before stiffening just as quickly. The Irken had finally fixed the clasps on his uniform tights, heading for his boots on the side of the bed, but his hand halted midway as he turned to fix his crimson eyes on Dib.
"Do not even THINK about it, Dib-smell," he snapped, pointing at the human as if to verify exactly who he was speaking to. "Zim forbids you even the thought of it, do you understand? If you return to that disgusting germ swamp, it will be with me, or not at all. And you will listen this time!" With one last stern glare for good measure the invader proceeded to—harshly—grab his shoes, shoving his green feet into them in a manner far more ruthless than the way he dressed himself seconds prior. Grumbles punctuated each motion, things about "too many eyes" and "hands suffering nerve damage", among others.
If there was a lax mood before, it was missing now. Or perhaps things were a little more like they used to be. It couldn't really be said which one was preferred by Zim, whose mouth now seemed to be permanently set to "scowl" as he snuggled his toes into the very end of his black boots.
"Okay, okay." Dib said placidly, not wanting to rile up Zim anymore than he was; though he still couldn't shake the slight apprehension he felt from going to the bar. He nibbled his lower lip as he took a few tentative steps towards the door, turning to observe Zim tugging on his boots and grumbling about this and that.
He frowned just slightly, "We're just going to get my stuff," He murmured, "It's probably just with the bartender." He said, though he couldn't shake his bad feeling. "You aren't going to do anything stupid are you?" He asked before he could stop himself, eyeing Zim warily.
Zim paused in his movements, his left foot pointed upward with his hands yanking the boot over his heel. He gave Dib a near-incredulous look before resuming his activities—one last pull, and then the alien jumped off the bed to land before the bespectacled teen.
An affronted snort escaped green lips. "'Stupid'?! HA! Nonsense, ignorant dirt-child—nothing Zim does is EVER stupid!" He announced, waving the foolish words away with a gloved hand. "Your over-sized cranium simply cannot comprehend it all properly. But that is expected—Zim's greatness is above such mere stink-beast understanding."
He grinned at Dib, both pink teeth and over-inflated ego aglow, but there was a darkness playing in the claret of his eyes, weaving and forming into…something. Ideas, plans. The image of Dib's body littered in shallow fingernail dents and half-hearted blooming bruises flickered in the Irken Elite's thoughts, his mind thinking of all the curious eyes at the bar, and the twitching hands hidden beneath soiled tabletops.
His eyes narrowed, the smile faded a little. Without pause he reached forward and wrapped his fingers around one of Dib's thin, ashen wrists, the warmth of the other male's flesh felt even through the insulating layer of Zim's glove fabric. He moved towards the door, grasping the limb tight. "Well, don't stand there, Dib-pig!" He barked. Zim's other hand found the knob and whipped the door open, the room soon behind them as they traveled down the hotel halls. "The sooner you obtain your foodening supplies, the sooner Zim can abandon this MISERABLE stink-hole…."
A/N:
OMG it's an update after a few years. I was going over my last reserves of this RP and I think I have one more chapter before it's either back on Hiatus or I'll go about finishing this myself?
Either way, I will be posting the next(possibly last for now) chapter soon, so it won't be such a long wait. I really loved writing this story, it's one of my favorites, and I do hope to complete it one day. Thank you all for reading and reviewing, it has meant a lot to me.