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The meteor is strange, all greys and machinery resembling nothing more than the innards of one of Dirk's discarded brobot prototypes. Every structure, every computer looks like it was cobbled together out of twelve others, and there is a permeating smell of formaldehyde, electricity and an underlying tang of old blood.
The trolls are of course stranger, with their grey skin and candy-corn horns, especially the tall one with the unruly hair and the puckered scars running down his face, and the one in the red skirt whose skin glows a pearly white.
Dirk can handle the meteor and the trolls – he's seen far more bizarre things during the course of their game session – but what throws him off is the other four kids. There is something of him in Rose's sardonic grin and something of Roxy in the way she sometimes winks after making a joke so lewd that Dirk feels a glow of pride. Jane is in every one of Jade's smiles, and even though he barely comes up above Dirk's shoulder, Dave looks so much like the shorter, younger version of Dirk's ancestor that Dirk catches himself staring at him for too long.
John comes as the biggest surprise. When Dirk first sees him standing next to Jake, he can't believe what he is looking at. Jake is dark skinned like Jade, while John's lighter complexion is the same as Jane's, but other than that, they could be the same person, and it muddles Dirk. At a closer glance, the differences are more apparent. Where Jake's jaw is square, John's is rounder, and although he has a good couple of inches on Jake's height, he lacks the well-developed form that Jake has, all elbows and sharp corners where Jake is muscle.
A melting pot of hooting laughter, ceaseless enthusiasm and an endless stream of pranks he finds more hilarious than anyone else, John is the embodiment of what would happen if Jane and Jake's personalities got soldered together. He is what would happen if Jake dedicated himself to ectobiology and Matthew McConaughey rather than adventure and Avatar, and what Jane would be like if she swapped her scepticism for tactlessness.
In short, John is a little bit charming, and more than a little bit of an asshole.
It catches Dirk's attention more than he expected.
They've made the meteor their own, decorating it so thoroughly that he can sometimes almost forget that they're all drifting through the Furthest Ring on a piece of rock. There are drapes and rugs, shitty clipart and chalk drawings, movie posters and books everywhere.
Dirk discovers that there are very few places to be alone, most of them having already been claimed by other people. The laboratories are massive, but it seems that every corner has a scalemate and every bend in the corridor reveals a troll or a human. Five times out of seven, the human is Dave. Dirk assumes that he has something important to talk to him about, but he shoulders past Dave every time, refusing to make it any easier for him.
Getting used to three people with him after a lifetime living alone in the middle of the ocean was difficult enough. Getting used to a meteor with seven other humans and six trolls, one of whom appears to be some sort of alien vampire apparently dating Dirk's teenage ecto-daughter, is closely nearing torture. His skin itches and his palms sweat, and he's grateful that both his sunglasses and his heavily practiced poker face make his unease less noticeable.
He discovers that the roof is far less frequently visited than any of the other places on the meteor, partly because it's a significant trek up endless flights of stairs, and partly because while they can ignore their surroundings in the labs, they can't hide from the Furthest Ring when its tentacle abominations are almost close enough to touch. He lies on his back, legs dangling over the edge of the building. His glasses are off as he soaks in the sloe-black sky, his heartbeat the only sound, so far removed from the constant buzz of the voices of people in the computer rooms downstairs.
There is a whoosh of air and John's grinning, upside down face blocks Dirk's view of the sky. "Hello!"
Dirk squints, reaching for his glasses. "What do you want, Egbert," he says, putting them on his nose.
"Your eyes are really orange," John says instead of an answer.
"Are they? My God, I had no idea. Do you think it's permanent?"
John laughs, somersaulting in the air so that he's floating in front of Dirk, a good few feet away from the edge of the building. "You're right, that was a dumb thing to say. It's just I sometimes remember how a lot of my friends have weird coloured eyes, and it surprises me since mine are this regular blue."
"That's fascinating. I can't wait for the movie," drawls Dirk, raising himself up on his elbows. "Seriously, is there anything you want? If not, I'd appreciate it if you would float on away the way you came in, because I'm kind of trying to have some alone time here."
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. As friendleader of this merry band of humans, it's my duty to make sure that everyone gets along okay," says John. "And well, to be totally honest with you here, Dirk, I don't think you're cooperating with me. Or with anyone else at the moment, really!"
Dirk raises his eyebrows. "Not everyone is a people person."
"Oh no, I know!" John says, waving his hands apologetically. "I was just wondering if you were feeling okay, because Roxy told me about the whole Jake thing so I'd imagine you'd be pretty bummed out about that. I mean, I'm not an expert." He laughs explosively, like he's both surprised and embarrassed about the noise he just made. "But maybe you'd like to talk about it?"
"While I didn't expect that Jake would turn down the possibility of getting a faceful of Strider, that doesn't mean I want to talk about it," says Dirk, sitting up fully and swinging his legs around in order to get up.
"Sure, no problem," John says. Dirk nods at him, heading towards the stairs, and John trails after him, floating so low that the tips of his toes almost touch the ground. "I don't even get why people concern themselves with romance so much? The trolls practically breathe it. Karkat is like this self-proclaimed expert on quadrants and boy, he sure likes letting people know about them. You should hear his rants! Or not, you'd probably want to punch him halfway through – I know I sometimes do."
Instead of placing his foot on the next stair down, Dirk stops and leans against the wall, hips cocked out and hands in the front pockets of his jeans. The sudden change in movement takes John off guard and he veers off course, stumbling through empty air before he comes to a halt in front of Dirk, his ridiculously long god tier hood ending up loosely wrapped around one of his ankles.
"I said I didn't want to talk about it, and you keep pressing the issue anyway," says Dirk. "Alright, I'll take the bait. Clearly you didn't just come up here to find out if I was okay, or else you'd leave me the hell alone when I told you that I was fine, instead of trailing after me like a windy douchebag. So what is it?"
John grins apologetically. He musses up his hair and bites his lower lip in a way so reminiscent of Jake it makes Dirk's stomach clench. "Actually, I wanted to talk to Rose about this first, but I thought it would be better if I talked to you since you've got the added advantage of being a dude," he says. "I mean, Rose is great, but my problem is kind of dude-specific. And she's not really experienced with them."
"What's the point you're trying to make here?"
"Oh man! This is actually really difficult to get out, which is all kinds of annoying since I thought that kind of stuff stopped when you grew up. I thought I'd outgrow it at sixteen." John rolls his shoulders, taking a deep breath. "Okay, I can totally do this. It's like ripping off a band-aid."
"If you need to take some time to write a LiveJournal entry—"
"Dave told me he liked me and I don't know what to do," John blurts out, defensively throwing both his hands in the air. He blinks rapidly. "That didn't feel like ripping off a band-aid at all."
Dirk takes a hand out of his pocket to scratch the back of his neck, running his fingers through the short hair there. "Why exactly did you think it would be a good idea to approach me about this? Because Dave and I are related through ectobiological shenanigans you orchestrated, and therefore I'd know exactly how he feels? Or did you think that because I happen to be a dude who likes another dude, I would be the expert on what it's like to ride boners?"
"No—what! No!" John frowns. "Maybe a little. Everyone else is way too involved in all of this, I guess I needed an outside opinion. I mean I like Dave but jeez, why does it have to be about that all the time? He's one of my best friends, wouldn't that be weird?" He catches the pointed twist to Dirk's mouth and shrugs. "Okay, I guess it wouldn't be weird for you, since it's like your number one ambition."
"You sure are winning yourself a lot of favours here," deadpans Dirk.
John huffs. "I just don't know what to do," he says. "I'm pretty sure I don't feel that way about him. I'm not even that enthusiastic about macking on guys."
Dirk raises a shoulder. "How do you know that you're not into it if you've not tried it yet?"
John looks so affronted and distraught by that question Dirk thinks he might bolt as fast as his windy powers can carry him. Instead, he ducks down, noticing seemingly for the first time that his hood is wrapped around his ankle, and busies himself with untangling it.
"Or have you?" Dirk asks, and when John doesn't answer, he snorts a laugh. "You totally have, you're behaving like a coy Southern belle all of a sudden. Did he ask you to call him his Knight of Fine? I totally would have." John straightens up so abruptly that something in his back clicks, his cheeks flushed.
"Listen," he says, stabbing a threatening finger in Dirk's direction, "that's entirely not for you to stick your nose into! And it's totally not what happened at all." He groans, flapping his hand as if trying to wave the conversation away. "This was such a dumb idea. We're done talking, Strider. Forget it ever happened!" He raises his hood up indignantly, and zooms down the stairs and away from Dirk.
"Was it your first kiss?" Dirk shouts after him.
"Get fucked!"
There are only four other people in the computer room when Dirk transportalises back. Karkat and Kanaya are sitting next to one of the computers, he in a chair and she perched lightly on the desk, talking in lowered voices. Karkat raises his head when Dirk materialises, and goes back to talking with Kanaya as soon as he recognises who it is, not giving him a second glance.
Dave and Terezi are a little way away from them, sitting on the floor, chalk drawings spread out in an irregular circle on the tiles around them. Dirk nonchalantly walks over to them, stopping just before the tips of his shoes touch the edge of the drawing. Terezi looks up, sniffing.
"It's Mr Orange Creamsicle!" she says, her nostrils focused on Dirk. "Want to join us?" Dirk looks down at the drawing. It's some sort of elaborate street map, with winding roads, suburbs, parks and a big white town hall with a red and teal banner flying above it. Dave is currently adding a tumbling figure of Sweet Bro to the big staircase in front of the town hall. A corner of Dirk's mouth twitches upwards with fondness.
"Perhaps a bit later," he says. "I wanted to ask Dave something."
"Kinda busy right now," says Dave, not looking up from his work. "TZ, could you pass the blue?"
"It won't take a minute," promises Dirk as Dave takes a stubby piece of blue chalk from Terezi. "I just wanted to ask how you and John were getting along."
"We're great, we're like Wilson and Stiller. We're Affleck and Damon, just the best of bros that you can ever imagine," says Dave, outlining what's undoubtedly Hella Jeff riding the back of what appears to be a giant squirrel. "Imagine the tightest, most rock-solid of all friendships, amp that shit up to eleven – that's how tight we are. You best sit down and take some fucking notes, but remember to bring extra sheets of paper because I am going to weave a proper Scandinavian saga about how mine and John's friendship is simply the best there is."
"So that's the reason you kissed?"
Dirk gives Dave enormous credit for the fact that his hand doesn't slip – he continues drawing as if nothing has been said. His only visible reaction is pressing his lips together in a tight line. Terezi, on the other hand, laughs, sounding like a cat choking on a hairball.
"I knew it," she exclaims, loudly enough for Karkat and Kanaya to stop talking and look in their direction. "We've been having bets," she says, playfully nudging Dave's shoulder. "Karkat owes me a boonbuck!"
"No I don't, that was never official!" Karkat shouts from the other side of the room.
"What? Is that what that thing is?" Dave points to a chart drawn on the wall, names in Alternian and Latin script scribbled all over it in red, pink and dark grey. "A shipping wall?"
"Of course not," says Kanaya, smoothing her skirt as she gets down from the desk and walks over to join them. "Shipping is for wigglers. I believe the term we prefer is romspec." She makes quotation marks with her fingers to emphasise the last word.
"Terezi, this is so fucking dumb," groans Karkat, following in Kanaya's wake. "Of all the pointless shit to do on this rock, really?"
"Romspec is an ancient art," says Terezi with a grin that makes Dirk wonder if she actually dislocates her jaw when she does it, just to expose even more teeth. "Where's your community spirit and dangerous, risk-taking nature?"
Karkat looks at the wall forlornly and sighs. "Okay. I'll put a boondollar on Thollux punching Strider in the face, whatever."
"Which one?" Kanaya asks.
Karkat glances at Dave, who appears to be extremely immersed in his drawing, and then at Dirk, who smirks at him. "Either one, I don't give a shit," he says, pulling a face at Dirk. "They're both impenitent, prolapsed assholes."
Terezi snorts. "Karkat, please! A bet under five boondollars would be beneath you and an insult to this great tradition."
"Can we bet on ourselves?" asks Kanaya. Dirk looks over at her, noticing her slight grin.
"Sure!" chirps Terezi.
"Kanaya, I honestly don't want to hear how big your hateboner for my moirail is," Karkat snaps. "I don't want to think about it, I don't want to see it – and if it happens, I don't want to fucking know about it."
"If it happens?" Kanaya places a hand on a cocked hip. "Karkat, you are underestimating me."
"If—" Karkat sputters. "Oh my god! I am finished with all of you!" He marches over to Dave, pulling on his cape. "Give me that!"
"Hey whoa, lay off!" Dave warns, trying to twist around to swat Karkat's hands off. "I'm not getting involved in your dumbass shipping Olympics!"
"I'm wiping my name down from the board, you douche!"
"But you and Dave are winning the caliginous race," protests Terezi, amusement plain on her face.
"Pyrope, I swear to fuck—"
Ignoring their bickering, Dirk picks up Dave's discarded red chalk and walks over to the chart on the wall. Rose had managed to teach him some Alternian, but he was still just shy of abysmal at deciphering the script. He can see that all the trolls' names are on there, some of them twice or more. The most popular, oddly, seems to be Karkat, who is paired with trolls and humans equally. The only handwriting he can recognise is Roxy's, which doesn't surprise him in the slightest. He scans the parts of the chart written in English for his name. It's there in pink, paired with Roxy. There is nothing in the red, although he does notice that someone has scrawled Dave and John with ß1,000,000 (GC) written next to it – the biggest amount of boondollars on the chart.
Dirk grins to himself, and underneath it he writes John and Dirk with the red chalk. Next to it, he puts ß1,500,099 (TT).
He steps back to admire his handiwork, and with one last look at Karkat apparently trying to disentangle himself from Dave's cape, flash steps onto the transportaliser and away.
When Dirk Strider plays, he plays to win.
-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] began pestering timaeusTestified [TT] --
TG: omg you totoaly put dirk/john on the shippinjg wall
TT: I think you'll find that it's called romspec, short for romantic speculation. Not shipping.
TG: a kettle with any other name would smell liek pot
TG: or somethign like that anyways
TG: so hey drink
TG: *dirk
TG: taht happens EVERY TIME wow
TG: are you gonna amp up yiur game
TT: I am going to play the field better than a quarterback.
TG: lay him odnw like thw law
TT: He'll call me Mr Flintstone, the way I'll make his bed rock.
TG: he wont need a wahrnammaer of zillyhoo to get naield
TT: I'll bag him like groceries.
TG: plwo him like a cornflied
TT: Ride him like in the rodeo.
TG: get some dirnk on the roxx~
TT: The drink may be on the rocks, but Egbert will be on my mouth.
TG: lolololol <333
TG: so aer you doiung it to get more ßßßß or b/c oyu actually like him
TG: idk hwo id feel about it jst being for the moolha tbh
TG: *moolah
TT: He's a good guy.
TG: doesnt dave haeb a thing for him tho
TT: Allegedly. But Egbert appears to be in the middle of a crisis of sexuality. It's my magnanimous plan to help him deal with it to everyone's benefit.
TG: hell finalyl go to the ball and dance with the prince
TT: That's one way of putting it.
TG: dirk strider faiery godmother
TG: salagadoola mechicka boola bibbidi bobbidi SMOOCH
-- tipsyGnostalgic [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] --
There is something to be said about feeling familiarity and instant rivalry with someone you've never met, and for the first three weeks after they converge with the pre-scratch session, the relationship between Dirk and Dave is extremely tense and bordering on avoidant. Dirk isn't the one to back down, but eventually Dave is persuaded – possibly by John, more likely by Rose who enjoys meddling more than anyone Dirk has ever met – to be the smarter one and to approach Dirk about burying the hatchet.
After that, they strife at least three times a week. Sometimes, they even talk during – conversation seems to come easier when pumped up on adrenaline and wielding a very sharp sword. Dave has the habit of springing a strife on Dirk, flash stepping in front of him in corridors or creeping behind him in abandoned labs full of pickled chess pieces, giving Dirk just enough time to equip his sword.
It happens like that this time – Dirk is in a lab, studying a huge preserved musclebeast and its white, cooked-fish eyes, when Dave flash steps behind him, tapping his right shoulder with the flat of his blade. Dirk decaptchalogues his sword, spinning around and raising it to meet Dave's, parrying his thrust. Steel sparks against steel, and just when Dirk thinks he has the upper hand, Dave thrusts again, knocking him off balance.
He staggers backwards and Dave follows, swinging his sword again. The broken blade slices through the air, and Dirk dodges it just in time. It clangs against the musclebeast tank, screeching as it leaves a scratch in the glass. Dirk flash steps behind Dave, taking the hilt of his katana to the back of Dave's neck. Just before Dirk manages to land the blow, Dave drops to the ground, throwing a leg out and swiping it against Dirk's ankles.
Dirk lands flat on his back, glasses askew. Before he has time to get up again, the tip of Dave's sword gently touches the hat on his shirt, keeping him down. "Yield?" says Dave.
"Yield," agrees Dirk. When Dave doesn't withdraw his sword, he raises a hand to his glasses to pull them down, looking at him over their top. "I said you've won."
"You put your and John's name on the trolls' dumb shipping wall," says Dave, not backing down. "Why?"
Dirk raises a shoulder. "Thought it would be fun."
"I get that you probably had a shitty life living in a watery alien dictatorship and all, and that you're more starved for attention than Mother Theresa's dry vagina," says Dave. Dirk laughs, and Dave's lip curls unpleasantly. "I couldn't give less of a fuck who or what Egbert does in his spare time. But if you break his dweeby heart, you'd better gird your loins for the magnificent shitstorm I'm going to unleash on you. It'll be like all the world's volcanoes are filled with shit and have started erupting at the same time, and you're a dumbass geologist making out with a rock on the slopes of Vesuvius and suddenly you are smearing shit all over your dumb mouth and the stuff is raining down on you like Odin's fury."
"Vulcan's fury."
"What?"
"Vulcan is the god of fire, that's why they're called volcanoes," says Dirk.
"Wow, because that was a totally necessary correction," scoffs Dave.
"I'm not going to break Egbert's heart, I'm doing you a favour," says Dirk. "He'll get that kissing dudes is entirely the best course of action he could possibly take, and he'll swoon into your arms like it's Brokeback Mountain and your dick is the only heat source in the tent. Think of me as his personal fluffer, for your convenience."
"Have you talked to Rose? She gets a big enough kick out of trying to psychoanalyse me on a daily basis. Talking to you would probably make her brain haemorrhage from happiness."
Dirk adjusts his sunglasses, pushing them up his nose. "I'm sure all the things she learned while getting her degree from Wikipedia would be very interesting to hear," he says. He shoves Dave's sword away and gets to his feet. Dave relents, swinging his sword through the empty air for good measure, the blade making a satisfying swishing noise.
"She'd probably have a lot to say about how the dude you're currently trying to get with looks almost exactly like the dude who turned you down," says Dave.
Dirk sheathes his sword, captchaloguing it. He looks at Dave, who holds his gaze, entirely expressionless. He's won and he knows it, the smug douche. "You'd do better getting prepared for when we next strife," says Dirk. "Your footwork is worse than a seventy-five year old priest's. I won't pull my punches next time."
He flash steps out of the lab, and when he transportalises to his room, he takes his glasses off and faceplants into his pillow, doggedly not thinking about how John's whole face lights up when he smiles, just like Jake's, and how just before he flash stepped away, he could swear that he saw Dave's lips twitch into a brief grin.
TG: its like
TT: He is both your bro but at the same time he isn't, so you are unsure how to act towards him. That is why you automatically rely on the perpetual state of one-upmanship which you cultivated with your guardian.
TG: thats not even close to what i was going to say
TT: Then what?
TG: hes an arrogant and calculating asswipe
TG: i dont even know how you can be friends with him rose
TT: I think all eight of us are having trouble adjusting to the new state of things. It's quite challenging to be faced with the teenage variants of the guardians we knew, and to be expected to get on with them better than we did with their adult versions.
TT: I have been having issues with establishing a friendship with Roxy as well. At first, I wasn't certain whether the passive-aggressive game was still on. You must have noticed that I spent our first week together hiding all of Roxy's drinks, and in turn she kept making me virgin cocktails.
TT: So if it's any consolation, Dave, they are having the exact same qualms as we are.
TG: is that supposed to make me feel better
TG: that theyre immature teenagers just like we are
TT: All I am saying is that it goes away. Roxy and I are rather good friends now.
TG: is that where you are
TG: hanging out with teen mom
TT: Yes. In fact, I have entirely submitted to traditional gender roles and Jane is teaching the three of us how to make a chocolate soufflé.
TG: hahaha no way
TG: is kanaya there too
TT: Indeed. She thought that chocolate was a rare Alternian delicacy.
TT: I have alchemised a bottle of chocolate syrup for later.
TG: i am going to alchemise a bottle of clorox for later
TG: and then ill scrub my eyes with it
TG: so i can burn off the image of my sister getting it on with an alien and her tentacle dick
TT: So you do know what they look like.
TT: I can only assume you and Terezi have achieved the coveted third base.
TG: this conversation is over rose
-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist [TT] --
Every single piece of technology on the meteor is at least ten years past its expiration date, and everything keeps breaking all the time. The computers will overheat and shut down in a chain reaction. The mechanism operating all the tanks for the clones will short-circuit, flooding the lower labs with commercial grade formalin, and even after draining them, they will still smell of pickled dead abominations for weeks. The transportalisers often glitch and instead of to the computer room or one of the labs, they randomly appearify whoever is using them into a dead end corridor, the roof, a storage room or just about anywhere else on the meteor. Until the arrival of the post-scratch kids, Sollux was the one doing all the repair work, being the only troll who could interact with technology for a protracted amount of time without the urge to kick, lick or ineffectually growl at it. After landing on the meteor, Dirk was roped into helping, and he found out that he didn't mind at all – he was drawn to alien technology like a bee to honey.
Either out of forgetfulness or spite, Sollux fails to mention to Dirk that while fixing a broken transportaliser, the person fixing it should definitely not be lying prostrate over it, despite how much they prefer that position to squatting next to it. Moreover, their screwdriver should definitely not be jammed between the plate and its casing while in this position. It may push a wire in the wrong direction, triggering a spike in power and making the previously inactive transportaliser have enough juice for one trip.
He doesn't even feel the transfer. He blinks, and the second thing he knows, he's no longer in the main transportaliser room. This area seems completely different than the rest of the rooms on the meteor. For one thing, it has colour and it doesn't appear to be made entirely out of metal. The prevailing material seems to be wood – there's a long counter opposite Dirk, and the wall next to it is lined with shelves. Curiously, there are some discarded, forlorn-looking scalemates heaped on the counter and spilling onto the floor. The green button eyes of one of them stare at him contemptuously.
Dirk sits up on his haunches, shoving the screwdriver in the space just below the transportaliser plate. There's a sound like a dozen radios clearing their throats, he feels the hairs on the backs of his arms stand up, and then – nothing happens.
"Goddamnit, Captor," he says to the air. When nothing responds, he gets to his feet, captchaloguing the screwdriver. He looks around for an alternate exit, and on the other side of the counter, he notices a closed door. He vaults over the counter, knocking some more scalemates to the floor, and crosses the tiny room in a few steps, going to grab the door handle.
His fingernails scrape against unyielding stone. Puzzled, he takes a step back. The door looks like solid wood from every angle and distance – it's only when he almost has his nose pressed to it that he realises it's actually painted on. He taps it with an open palm, feeling the cold smoothness of stone. He frowns.
-- timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] --
TT: Hey, Jade?
GG: oh hi dirk! whats up? :) how is it going with the transportaliser?
TT: The dumb thing glitched again and now I'm in a room with no visible exits. Could you teleport me back to the main transportaliser room? It'll be easier to fix it at the source.
GG: im sorry dirk, i am afraid i cant do that!
TT: What's the problem?
GG: i think you know what the problem is just as well as i do
TT: Oh, shit. Have you gone rogue and murdered everyone and now I'm the only one left?
TT: I'm going to have to go in through the emergency airlock, right?
GG: nooooooooooo, dont be silly! i am just going to send someone to keep you company for a bit :D
TT: Why?
GG: i have good money riding on that smooch dirk!!!!!!!!!!
GG: i am going to prove to karkat that he doesnt know his ass from his horns when it comes to romspec!
GG: have fun!! :D :D
-- gardenGnostic [GG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] --
Dirk hardly has time to minimise the Pesterchum window on his shades when a flash of light momentarily makes everything in his field of vision a vivid green. When it fades, he sees that John has materialised in the room with him. The transfer catches John off guard, and he stumbles, staggering backward. He loses his footing for only a split second until his god tier powers catch him and pull him into the air, but that second is enough for him to throw both his arms out in an attempt to catch himself on anything that's behind him. It's only then that Dirk notices the stairs littered with bicycle horns. John dislodges one of the horns, and it sends another ten tumbling down, clattering towards Dirk's feet with obnoxiously loud honks.
John looks around, bewildered, his gaze flitting from the horns, to the shelves and the scalemates, to Dirk, and back to the horns again. Then he laughs, his eyes crinkling with genuine mirth. "What a good prank, Jade," he says, addressing the ceiling. "Your Prankster's Gambit sure must have risen to unimaginable levels."
"I don't think she can hear you, bro," says Dirk.
"Yeah, probably not," agrees John, floating over to the counter and plonking down on it. "It's this romspec," he says, absently picking up a blue scalemate. "It's getting to everyone's heads, I swear! Karkat says that when it first started, which was before we got here apparently, everyone kept putting Sollux into quadrants with everyone else for some reason?" He chuckles, the sudden movement dislodging the scalemate's precariously balanced head, ripping it off its body entirely. Affronted, John drops the body as well, settling on resting his hands on his knees. "He isn't even attractive – did you see his teeth?"
"He doesn't have any teeth," Dirk points out.
"That's exactly my point!" John says, slapping his knee. "Karkat says that then Aradia tried to bribe Terezi into being Sollux's moirail – or is it mwah rail? Dave always says it like that. But then as Karkat was telling me that, Terezi started teasing him about being a frigid hypocrite or something, so I didn't really get to hear the rest of the story." He picks a bit of fluffy scalemate innards off his thigh and shakes it off his fingers and onto the floor. "Why do people even care?"
There is a moment of silence until Dirk realises that John isn't just taking a pause for breath so he can continue with his monologue, but that he's actually expecting Dirk to answer. "Maybe she thought he needed to loosen up and make the best out of the situation," he offers. "It's not like there's much else to do." He leans down to pick up the scalemate's head, and then gets its body from the counter next to John. "I could definitely sew this back together. Do you think Terezi would want it?"
John shrugs. "I guess it's pretty cool for a stuffed toy. The colour is neat." Dirk captchalogues it, making a mental note to fix it later. "But hey," continues John, "I didn't think you'd be the one advocating relaxation. You seem so high strung all the time!" Dirk raises his eyebrows sceptically. "You do!" asserts John. "I mean, even Rose has down time. Did you know that she made a soufflé with Jane, Roxy and Kanaya? It kind of didn't rise properly, apparently, because I think that Roxy put too much schnapps in it, but Jade and I ate it anyway, it was really good!" He grins widely, and Dirk tries not to look for traces of chocolate between his teeth. "But you barely sit down! Do you ever even sleep? You're always planning and scheming with Rose or strifing with Dave or doing nerdy hacker stuff with Sollux." He scratches his temple, frowning speculatively. "It's not like I'm not grateful! Wow, that hack you two pulled with Roxy that made all the faucets on the second floor of the lab run with apple juice instead of water for a day, that was pretty sweet! But I just think, as your palhoncho, that you should sometimes maybe chill a bit!"
"I'm chilling now," shrugs Dirk. "It's not like there is a lot else to do, considering the situation."
"That's true!" John laughs. "I still can't get over what a good prank Jade pulled there. I didn't even see it coming!"
"Do you really think it's a prank?"
"Well, yeah, what else would it be?" says John. "I'm really pleased that she has taken a leaf out of my book. It's about time, if you ask me."
"Maybe it could have something to do with that shipping wall you keep complaining about," suggests Dirk.
"Romspec," John corrects him, not missing a beat.
"Sorry," grins Dirk.
"But hey, you could be right," says John, frowning thoughtfully. "Oh man, it totally is! She wants to get ahead in the game!" He chuckles. "Kind of makes sense, I guess, since I think she lost like half a boonbuck to Karkat that one time. Although," he frowns, "I don't know why she'd go through this much trouble since Rose is still the highest bidder on, um—" He pauses, gesticulating as if trying to fish a word out of the air, and then settles on "—us."
Dirk manages to school his face into being utterly expressionless before he asks, "Rose?"
"Yeah, she put it up, she's TT. That's her chumhandle." Very slowly, John raises his eyebrows at Dirk. "tentacleTherapist?" He draws out every syllable.
"Actually," says Dirk, "she wasn't the one who put that up."
John blinks owlishly behind his glasses, looking so dumbstruck that Dirk struggles not to laugh as he takes a step closer, placing his hand at the nape of John's neck and pulling him in for a kiss. The counter is too high, so he has to stand up on tiptoe, bracing with his other hand on the wooden surface next to John's thigh. He gently presses his fingers into the short hairs on the back of John's neck in an attempt to make him stoop lower. John makes a noise against Dirk's mouth and Dirk parts his lips, his tongue meeting John's as he tilts his head to the side to get a better angle.
The edge of Dirk's glasses clicks against John's for a moment, and then John's hands are on Dirk's shoulders. He shoves Dirk away, kicking into the air so suddenly that he nearly bumps his head on the low ceiling. He touches his fingers to his lips briefly, and then frowns.
"What the hell was that," he says.
"Pretty sure it's called kissing, but we can try again to fact check it, if you like," says Dirk.
"I'm not like one of your lame puppets that you can pose and joke around with! And I'm not someone you can put bets on to see who gets to kiss me first!" John throws his hands up, sending an involuntary whoosh of air in Dirk's direction which almost makes him stumble. "Especially not if you put the bet on yourself as well and then orchestrate it like this! How is that fair? I mean, Dave—I'm not even—" He groans loudly, letting his arms fall at his sides.
"Dave says he doesn't care what you do," says Dirk.
John's eyebrows knot together. "What?"
"He doesn't seem to think that your trysts, romantic or otherwise, are his concern," explains Dirk, watching John carefully behind his glasses. John's shoulders sag and he seems to sink in the air for a fraction of an inch.
"Nah, he's probably just putting his coolkid act on to impress you," he says. "I find it hard to believe that he wouldn't care about stuff like this!"
"He did go three years without seeing you," Dirk reminds him. "A lot of things can change in three years."
"That doesn't mean I have to like it," says John, and he kicks off into the air again, leaning back and going horizontal, his hands crossed over his chest. His hood flaps about, nearly getting Dirk in the face. He swats it away as John huffs at the ceiling. "And who says that this is even a thing I would want? Even if I ignored the fact that you set this whole thing up, you look a hell of a lot like Dave sometimes. I mean, obviously you're different, like you've got a different nose and you've got that scar on the side of your face that he doesn't. But you have freckles across your nose like him, and you both do that thing when you smile, where you kind of do it with one side of your mouth and then the other."
"You have a lot of things in common with Jake, too," says Dirk. "Other than being a hopeless goober, I mean."
"Yeah, that's what I'm saying," agrees John, rolling onto his front in the air. "It'd be weird!"
"That's not what I meant. There wouldn't be the same emotional involvement," says Dirk. "My error with Jake was that I put too much stock into the whole thing, and because of that I thought a negative outcome was impossible. This way, though, it would work out fine, because neither of us are exactly what the other is looking for." He bares his teeth in the imitation of a smile.
"Wow, hey. That's rough, I'm sorry," says John.
"No need. It's not like my attraction to Jake is something that defines me as a person, and it's not like I'll completely shut down because he rejected me. It would have been great to get a feel of Jake's purple-headed yoghurt slinger, for sure," says Dirk, and at this point John hoots with laughter, collapsing into a fit of chortles that makes Dirk pause. Some of John's delight rubs off on him, and he bows his head, grinning at the floor.
He looks up when he can no longer hear John laughing. John is still floating in the air, feet up, face at the level of Dirk's eyes. He notices that John's trousers have slipped down, revealing pale ankles, and how ridiculously intent his expression seems, and then John takes Dirk's face in his hands and kisses him. His hands go on Dirk's shoulders again, but it's not to push him away this time. His thumb digs into the skin just above Dirk's collarbone, and Dirk tilts his head up, deepening the kiss. John lets out a small sound into Dirk's mouth, their tongues pressing against each other. Dirk doesn't have time to assess what that sound was, because the next thing he knows John is floating himself down. He hooks his legs around Dirk's waist, his nose bumping against Dirk's cheek. Instinctively, Dirk grabs John's thighs just under his ass, taking care not to break their kiss as he carries John to the counter, sitting him down on top of it.
John breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against Dirk's and breathing shallowly. "What kind of a kiss was that? Who did you practice on, robots? That was mostly tongue and not much of anything else."
"I wasn't going to go in unprepared," says Dirk. "You think you're in any position to talk? You kiss like you're trying to perform a tonsillectomy."
"Whoa, hang on. Are you saying you actually made out with robots?"
Dirk runs a palm up John's thigh, considering his answer. "It tasted a bit like tin foil," he says, which makes John snort with laughter.
"Dude!"
"Don't be a tool, Egbert," Dirk says, slipping his fingers under John's pyjama top to find warm skin. "Try not to slobber all over my chin this time."
"Seriously? You can't even handle how good I am at this," says John, actually waggling his eyebrows. Dirk surprises himself into laughter as his hand falters in its upward journey along John's chest. "You laugh because it's true!" John exclaims triumphantly, and Dirk rests his forehead on John's shoulder, still grinning.
John's fingers find one of his belt loops and tug at it. Dirk looks up at him. "Hey, this is like the most I've seen you emote in the past, I don't know, month or something," says John. "Maybe you should drop being the cool guy more often."
"Are you going to tell me that you find my smile enchanting or some bullshit like that?"
It's John's turn to laugh this time. "You wish! You look just as much of a dork as Dave when he does it. Even more, probably, because of those pointy anime shades. I keep worrying you'll take my eye out with those things!"
"I'm not going to change my frankly impeccable fashion choices because of your prissiness," says Dirk, "but I could perhaps consider taking them off for a while."
John's mischievous grin makes Dirk's stomach knot. He leans forward and then his mouth is on Dirk's jaw, his lips moving down Dirk's neck. Dirk exhales softly, tilting his head back to allow John better access. He feels John move closer and his response is instantaneous. Arching closer, he moves his hand to the small of John's back, pushing his pyjama top up. He gets a single finger under the waistband of his trousers when he feels the heel of John's palm push up against the crotch of his trousers. Dirk can't help the small gasp that escapes him, and John laughs into the crook of his neck.
"I thought that would convince you," he says, the grin back on his face. "But don't think this makes me any more okay with the situation. I mean, I'm not going to make this a regular thing!" He laughs, as if even considering the prospect is ridiculous. Dirk lowers his hand, absently rubbing circles with his thumb on the place where John's neck meets his shoulder and wondering what it would be like to bite him there. "It's not like anyone has to know this happened. It isn't any of their business anyway! And it's like you said, I won't know if I don't try – right?"
"Sure," agrees Dirk, inwardly congratulating himself for managing to change John's mind so quickly. He takes his shades off, closing them carefully and captchaloguing them. There is a long moment when John just stares at him, eyebrows raised.
Dirk narrows his eyes. "What is it now?"
"It's just that they're super orange! I can't help staring, it's not like I see them every day," says John.
"You're right, there is no better time for gazing soulfully into each other's eyes than when you have your hand on my dick," says Dirk. "If only we had some cherry blossoms that you could make oscillate on the wind." He puts his palm on John's cheek, cupping his face. He runs a thumb across John's lips – they're thinner than Jake's and only slightly chapped. John grins, opening his mouth and catching Dirk's thumb between his teeth. His tongue swipes across the pad and Dirk feels arousal stirring in the pit of his stomach. He cants his hips forward, looking for the pressure of John's hand.
John cups him through his trousers once, and then he withdraws his hand. Dirk has no time to protest because then John hooks his thighs around Dirk's waist. Dirk pushes the fingers of his free hand under John's trousers and underwear, digging his fingernails into John's ass cheek until John makes that sound again, halfway between a yelp and a keen. He takes his thumb out of John's mouth, bringing his face close.
"Move your hips," he whispers in John's ear. If he isn't going to have Jake, he is definitely going to have this.
John obeys, reluctant at first, and then more eagerly as Dirk gets his other hand on his ass, moving his hips into a position that enables them to get the most friction. John's hands go into his hair and press into his scalp, John's mouth finding his and catching him in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. Dirk pulls John in closer, delighted by how thin those pyjama bottoms are, and how he can feel John's cock press against his stomach. He raises his hips up to meet John's, his erection rubbing against John's ass.
John trails his lips along Dirk's jaw, his breathing heavy. "I didn't expect this to um, um—I didn't expect this."
"You could have fooled me," Dirk says into the skin behind John's ear. He licks a strip down John's neck. Reaching the place where it meets his shoulder, he gives the skin a light nip. The bite is just enough to make John sharply draw in breath through his teeth. Dirk sucks the skin past his teeth, soothing it with his tongue.
"Hang on," says John, and his hips stop moving. Dirk can definitely feel that he's hard against him, and he doesn't doubt that John has been able to feel Dirk responding in kind for a while now, but he stills. "Could you—how far is this going, actually?"
"How far do you want it to go?" Dirk moves his hand on John's ass, slowly edging his fingers to rest between his ass cheeks. John tries to squirm away, which only serves to push his erection against Dirk's stomach, making him hiss.
"Not that far," he says, and Dirk pulls his fingers away. He takes his hands out of John's underwear, placing them just above his waistband. He internally laments the loss of warm flesh under his hands, when John says, "This is okay, but I don't want to get too carried away here."
This up close, the differences between John and Jake are more obvious. While Jake's features appear to be chiselled out of stone, the contours of John's face are teased out with a soft painter's brush. There is the slightest shadow of stubble on his chin, and the colour of his eyes is just as vivid as Jake's, the shade of the sky on a crisp autumn morning. His cheeks are flushed, lips bruised red from kissing. It makes Dirk want to find out how long he can keep him looking like that.
"Intimidated?" he asks.
John blows a raspberry, covering Dirk's face in a light spray of spit. Dirk blinks once, twice. "That's disgusting," he says.
"Oh I'm sorry!" John exclaims, eyes wide. "Does that make you uncomfortable?" He leans in closer, and as Dirk tries to move to seek out his mouth and kiss him again, John blows a very violent raspberry against Dirk's cheek.
"John!" Dirk tries, wriggling uncomfortably against him. John holds on with his legs, keeping Dirk in place. Cackling quietly to himself, he trails his lips down Dirk's jaw and blows a raspberry into the crook of his neck. The feeling is enough to make Dirk's skin crawl. John's shoulders shake with suppressed laughter, and Dirk cracks a grin despite his efforts to be indignant about the whole situation.
"Strider, what the hell are you doing?" an irritated voice demands. Dirk would know that particularly nasal tone anywhere – Sollux. John freezes against Dirk, his mouth still on Dirk's neck. He drops his legs from around Dirk's waist, but Dirk doesn't move to turn around. "I'm sick of you not answering when I try to troll you, so I fixed this stupid thing myself," Sollux says.
"It's okay, he's blind," whispers John.
Slowly, Dirk turns around, a hand still on John's waist. Sollux Captor is standing between them and the transportaliser, visibly annoyed. "Hey, Captor," says Dirk evenly, "what kept you?"
Sollux frowns. "I guess you don't have any idea how difficult it is to actually get to this place, since you managed to do it on the first try, the bright spark that you are. It took me like fifteen tries to find you." His nostrils flare. "Is someone else here?"
"I trust your smelling lessons with Terezi are going well, then?" says Dirk. John breathes sharply into his shirt.
"That's Hellacious Blue Phlegm Aneurysm Gushers, isn't it?" says Sollux, sniffing the air. "John?" He wheezes a laugh, his fangs bared with glee.
"Hey, Sollux!" John says with an enthusiasm Dirk didn't expect, and waves at Sollux. He immediately drops his hand when he realises the futility of the gesture. Dirk shakes his head, decaptchaloguing his sunglasses and replacing them on his nose.
"I can't wait to tell TZ about this," says Sollux, smirking. He beckons them over, one foot on the transportaliser already. "Come on, you fuckers, before this piece of shit glitches again." He steps onto it fully, and disappears with a small flash of light.
Dirk turns back to John, his eyebrows raised. John shrugs, grinning at him. "Better do what he says!" He flies into the air and above Dirk's head, pulling his shirt down. He lands next to the transportaliser, eyeing it warily. He shoves his hands in his pockets and squares his shoulders.
"What's the hold up?" asks Dirk.
"Everyone's going to know!" complains John.
"Does this come as some sort of surprise to you? It's a small Incipisphere," says Dirk. John makes a non-committal shrug. "You're not embarrassed, are you?"
"Of course not!" John is vehement. "I was just—"
"Then we don't have a problem," says Dirk. He moves to step on the transportaliser, but John grabs his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. Disgruntled, Dirk turns to him, only to have John's lips meet his. The kiss isn't in accordance to Dirk's rigorous standards garnered from kissing robots and his own palm, but it's considerably less heavy on the saliva than the previous ones were. John puts his other hand on Dirk's hip while he kisses him, and it's not Jake, but for the moment, it's enough.
John breaks the kiss, bringing the heel of his hand to his mouth. "I just wanted to check something," he says, grinning to himself. He steps onto the transportaliser and vanishes, the flash of the transfer blinding Dirk for a split second. Dirk runs a careful hand through his hair, making sure it's styled exactly as it should be, and follows.
The transportaliser takes him back to the computer lab, and the instant he steps off it, he is accosted by a pink and purple blur which whisks his glasses off his nose without even asking. "Rox—" he tries, but Roxy presses two fingers of her free hand to his lips, silencing him.
"Nope! I know I'm not going to hear the full story from you, so I am going to talk to someone who will actually tell me the real deal," says Roxy. Dirk opens his mouth to bite on her fingers and she withdraws them quickly, laughing. "I'll take good care of him, I promise!" she says, putting his glasses on. Dirk lets her step on the transportaliser and away. A quick scan of the lab tells him that he and Sollux are the only ones there. He can't guess where John disappeared to, but he decides that he will deal with that later. He takes a seat in front of one of the computers, slouching in the chair.
He gets Pesterchum open when Sollux slaps him on the shoulder, making him start. "I guess congratulations is in order or something, but I'm really only here to let you know that you've been awarded your winnings from the," he snorts, "romspec reward pool."
"That was quick," comments Dirk.
Sollux shrugs. "We have two Seers in our team, you know how it is."
"I think I am going to bet on you and Aradia next," says Dirk, making Sollux chuckle.
-- timaeusTestified [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --
TT: Hey.
TG: sup
TG: fixed the thing i see
TT: Technically it was Sollux's doing, but yes, I helped.
TG: tz is fucking ecstatic she can finally play galaga with him again praise xenu in his infinite wisdom shes stopped yakking at me about how much he kicks her ass at it
TG: i dont even wanna know how they do it like do they lick the screen intermittently or how does that work
TG: anyway
TT: Anyway.
TG: good thing you caught me dude im about to develop some amazingly sick photos of the pickled abominations but before that i thought id ask
TG: i found all these boondollars in my virtual porkhollow
TG: a million and a half of them to be precise
TT: One million, five thousand, ninety nine, to be precise.
TG: uh
TG: yeah
TG: its obvious you have something to do with that since youre flaunting the precise amount in my face
TG: hang on brb rose is pestering me
TT: I'll be here.
TG: ok uh
TG: rose says that your and johns names are gone from the shipping wall
TT: The romspec wall? I wouldn't be surprised.
TG: whatever dude do you have to correct everything i say
TG: wait
TT: Yes?
TG: these two things arent connected are they
TG: they totally are
TG: what the fuck
TG: you didnt actually go through with that
TT: Of course I did.
TT: You're welcome.
-- timaeusTestified [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] --
TG: oh hell no this isnt over
TG: its on like donkey kong
-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering timaeusTestified [TT] --