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You reach over your laptop to your coffee table and grab the wine glass sitting there.
You don't drink, per se. At least not in the outrageous quantities that your friends do.
Even then you don't drink often, and not a lot when you do. You prefer the less strong liquors. You refuse to end up like Roxy's mom, or god forbid the Orphaner. Part of you wonders who can drink who under the table. Another part fears that idea.
You sip at your wine and continue typing.
You pause with your glass at your lips. When had you started talking about cats?
You scroll up a few paragraphs, looking for where you left off the whole point of this rant-
Er...
You mean conversation.
Five paragraphs.
You scoff at yourself and throw back the rest of that wine. You set the glass back on the coffee table and move your laptop to get up and fetch something nonalcoholic to drink.
There's a noise to your left, a curse not in English. Muffled between the doors to your balcony, and the curtains you can't tell what language it actually is.
Of course, you have one, where else would you brood and drink your morning coffee.
You pause and turn your head to the doors. Who would be on your balcony at this hour? You had not expected company with the type of acrobatic skill it took to get up onto your balcony.
Your home was rather high up because you didn't like to be bothered.
So one could not simply, climb up to your balcony. It had to be someone with a purpose. The door had curtains, that were pulled closed. You couldn't see out and no one else could see in. You liked it that way.
So slowly, ever so slowly, you creep to the doors. Subtly pull the curtains back to see the intruder and-
Oh for the love of...
Before you can think better of it you slam open the doors.
"Dirk?" You ask. He doesn't flinch when you slam open the doors, he does flinch when you say his name. So you soften your voice. "Hey... What are you doing here?" He doesn't look back at you. "It's almost;" You pause to roll up your sweater sleeve and glance at your watch. "Two-thirty." The cold night makes you roll your sleeve back down. Dirk doesn't answer you. "Not to mention-"
You're about to mention his boyfriend, but he cuts you off.
"Kanks." His voice cracks, which evaporates the rant about interrupting and use of that wretched nickname (Which is totally not growing on you) forming in your throat. You blink and stare at his back. He says nothing more. So you elect to figure out why he's here, alone, at the small hours of the morning, refusing to turn and look at you.
He's holding onto the railing for dear life, sitting on it. His ankles are hooked in the bars so he can keep himself steady with only one free hand. His knuckles are white with effort. The other is in front of him, you don't know more than that.
Your eyes trail up his back, looking for an explanation in body language. He's wearing a tank top, he gets cold easily, so he must have come to you on a whim. His shoulders are so tense that you almost want to tell him to relax. Curled in like he's attempting to make himself smaller than he actually is. Then your eyes find the back of his head.
His hair is unstyled, which is so unDirk like it's almost scary. You know very well that he hates it when people see him with his hair down. Something about his dignity, but there's none of that anime nonsense right now.
"What's going on, Dirk?" You ask, and still, he refuses to answer you. You sigh, reach up to rub your eyes, and turn around to go back inside. Even still he doesn't turn to look at you. You couldn't help but look over your shoulder and check. Something is off. Dirk doesn't typically come to see you on his own. Sure, you're friends but the thing is, you just don't get together enough. You like him, he likes you. You humor his theories and he actually listens to you, lets you say your piece, and then has his well-thought-out come back.
Yes, you do enjoy Dirk's company.
You grab your glass and the bottle, refill the glass, and head back outside. Dirk still doesn't turn around when the door shuts behind you, or when you approach behind him, stepping aside to lean on the railing beside him, glass in your hand as you drape your arms over the railing.
He goes as far as to turn his head away, not even risking getting you in his peripheral vision. Something is definitely up. "You came back." He says but still doesn't look at you. It's the only thing he's said other than his nickname for you. Which is progress, and any progress is good progress.
You sigh and take a drink. The fact that he gives you a verbal response is good. It means he hasn't gone nonverbal on you. It's something Dirk does when something extreme is bothering him. It's like he has so very many things to say, so many things on his mind, all running together and weaving. So he just chooses to say nothing. It might have something to do with his upbringing, having to fear what he says for the sake of keeping himself and his little brother safe.
"Well, I am assuming this is not a social call, considering you refuse to look at me or say more than a couple of words at a time. If you're here you need me. If it's bothering you this much, Dirk, I figured I might need some more to drink before we got into the thick of it."
You're met with more silence, which makes your eye twitch. Fine, you can study him more this way. The hand that's not gripping the railing beside him is curled around the neck of a bottle, you can smell the alcohol from here, vodka if you're not mistaken. There's also the faint scent of citrus. Knowing Dirk, it's the orange variety.
Like you, Dirk doesn't drink very much. When he does it's so fruity he can't taste the alcohol. He doesn't like the taste of alcohol it's one of the things you both have in common. He also doesn't like the way being drunk makes him feel. Which makes you all the more concerned that you can smell the alcohol from here.
"How many of those have you had?" You ask, eyeing him suspiciously as he switches hands to take a long drink of the concoction, then he shrugs at you. You sigh and look down to the street below. "So, you come to me of all people, and you don't want to talk? Why?"
Dirk shrugs again, shaking his head. "I dunno, I just, I like your company, Kankri. You know when to stop pressin'. You know better than ta search too hard for answers. You ain't one for forcin' people to talk when they don' wanna. 'Nd I wanted ta bask in that 'fore you decide to push me off this railin' when you do manage ta pry answers from me."
The use of more than one sentence spooks you enough that you don't notice how thick his accent is. "Dirk whatever you're going through; it can't be that bad. And for you to assume I would resort to violence when you do give me an answer is so offensive-"
"Kanks, listen." You close your mouth when he asks, and slide a hand into the pocket of your leggings. "You'd definitely kill me for it. Or at least kick my ass." You blink as you pull out a pack of cigarettes from your pocket. Dirk is one of the only people who know about that. How physically capable you actually are. You may make yourself appear fragile and nonconfrontational, at least physically, but he knows you can hold your own. "I mean, I know you can, and you would for this, I don't doubt it."
With a cigarette in between your lips as you light it, you sigh. That's another thing that Dirk is one of the only people privy to. That you smoke. "Dirk I would never willingly hurt you, you know that." He falls silent again, which tells you that he doesn't believe you. Instead, he shifts his grip on the railing, so he can hold himself there with just his legs as he extends his hand in front of you just as you go to slide the pack back into your pocket. "Spare a poor bastard a cig?" He asks and you freeze.
Dirk doesn't smoke. Anything. It's a wonder he lets you and Cronus smoke around him. He hates the scent, the burn in his throat. Says it reminds him of his brother, not Dave or the Director, the other genuinely not a good person Strider. Yet here he is, asking you for one like it's something casual like it's not out of character as all hell.
"Dirk, I don't think that's-"
"Please." It's quiet and pitiful. It's so pitiful in fact that you pluck the one you're smoking from your mouth and slide it between his outstretched fingers. "Just go easy, okay? Don't cough up a lung or something." You say when his hand retreats. There's no response, just the sound of him inhaling.
He takes it surprisingly well as you watch and light yourself another one. He doesn't even cough.
Okay, yes. Something is definitely off, but you let silence reign for a long moment, sipping at your wine.
After a while, and the rest of Dirk's cigarette the silence starts to intensely bother you.
"Dirk." You say.
No response.
"Dirk." You try again.
He tips the bottle back, taking a good long drink. He's deliberately ignoring you. It annoys you, and your fingers tighten around your wine glass. If he wants to be like that, fine. You have ways to get him to respond to you. You hate doing it because he hates his name, but it's the best you've got.
"Diedrik." Dirk jerks like he's been shot.
Bingo.
His head whips in your direction. You'd gotten him to look at you, but now you almost regret that you were so intent on it. His eyes are hidden by his shades, of course. His hair falls into his face but doesn't reach the bottom of his shades. You can see dried tear stains streaking down his cheeks. His lower lip is bleeding like he's bitten it to that point. Dirk is looking at you with an expression that reminds you of a frightened animal. However, it's not Dirk emoting that catches you off guard and widens your eyes. No, it's those tear streaks that catch you off guard.
Diedrik Clementine Strider Does Not Cry.
Through every emotional breakdown of his, you've witnessed, and trust you, there's a lot. Through Bro's abuse. Through his issues with Jake English. Through everything, he's gone through. You've never ever seen tears grace the man's face.
You must have been staring because he makes this choked sound in the back of his throat and turns away from you again. "Dirk, were you...." You know he was, the evidence was clear on his cheeks. "This was a bad idea." He mutters to himself, reaching up to wipe at his cheeks, and his hand vanishes under his shades. "Fuck you, no. I wasn'... I don'. I ain't one for cryin', Kanks. Shut up."
This time you do pick up on the accent. This means he's either really messed up about whatever brought him here, or he's absolutely wasted. Sounding like a cowboy stereotype means one or both of those things. "You're drunk." You decide. That in regards to him leaves a bad taste in your mouth.
"I ain't drunk enough, Kanks." He grabs the railing again, this time he's considerably less tense though, as he leans back to down the rest of this citrus vodka concoction. "You asked how many of these I've had." You nod. "Like, six."
This triggers you to lean across him to swipe that bottle. "Then I am officially cutting you off." He flinches when you get too close, but doesn't fight you as you pry the bottle from his hands, and turn to set it on the small table you have out here. "What even is this?" You ask, returning to his side.
"Vodka Sunrise. Rox makes them for me." He informs you, clasping his hands in front of him. "They make them so I can' taste the alcohol, y'know." He seems more relaxed, this is good. "Because you don't like the taste." Dirk turns his head so he can catch you with a side glance. "Neither do you, what's with the wine?" He asks.
"Even I like a drink every once in a while, just not that instant alcohol poisoning our friends seem to enjoy." Roxy is indeed good at what they do, but Jesus Christ.
Dirk makes an affirming noise. "Agreed." You finish off your wine and cross your arms on the railing. "If you agree then why the drink that's more alcohol than orange juice?"
His shoulders hunch and he looks down. "I can't handle myself sober right now." Ah. Self-hatred at its finest. So very Dirk it calms you a tad. Though he hasn't had one of these spirals in years. So in an attempt to single out the reason, you pull out your phone to text your brother about Dave's whereabouts. Very few things have an effect on Dirk, and Dave is one of the first things to pop into your head.
CG: Passed the actual fuck out beside me. Why?
There's a couple of dots at the bottom of the screen signifying Karkat's typing.
CG: Don't tell dad.
"Who ya textin'?" Dirk asks but knows better than to lean over to look.
"Karkat." You answer without looking at him, focused on your texting.
CG: I'm n9t g9ing t9 tell dad. Is he 9kay?
CG: I mean, I wouldn't use Dave Strider and fucking "okay" in the same sentence.
CG: Karkat.
It takes him a while to respond to that, so you turn your attention back to Dirk. "What's up with the little bro?" He asks, freeing one leg from the bars and kicking it back and forth. "Just checking on him, you know. Like I do."
Your phone goes off and you glance at it.
CG: As far as Dave's okayness goes; yeah he's fine. Fine-ish. Fuck, You know what I mean. Seriously though you're usually worried about me or some shit when you text this late. Is something up?
You would never dream of leaving Karkat in the dark, so you start typing while speaking with Dirk. "I like to check up on him sometimes. Like you do with Dave. I am never not concerned about Karkat." Dirk shrugs. "I feel that. Dave worries me more often than he doesn't."
CG: I'm standing beside Dirk 9n my balc9ny, 9n which he is sitting. He's 6een drinking v9dka sunrises. Apparently, he was 9n his seventh when he g9t up here, I have n9 idea h9w he managed it, drunk, and with an 9pen b9ttle, 6ut I digress. He's 6een crying, and w9uldn't l99k at me until I said his actual name.
"Dave is a very worrying individual, I can agree with that. I believe Karkat is good for him though." You tell Dirk while you wait for a response. "Oh yeah," Dirk snorts. "There's no one I trust more to take care 'a him. Kar's a good kid." That brings a little smile to your face. "Indeed he is, a little contrary, but good regardless.
CG: Jesus fucking christ, Kankri.
You blink down at your phone, but before you can form a response another message rolls in.
CG: Do I need to wake Dave's ass up and send him over to do damage control or something? I don't want to don't get me wrong, but I will if I have to.
CG: No, Karkat. D9n't distur6 him. The p99r thing needs sleep m9re than y9u d9. I'm just trying t9 figure 9ut what's 6r9ught Dirk t9 my h9me at this h9ur. He w9n't tell me. My first thr9ught was s9mething g9ing 9n with Dave...
CG: If something was up with Dave I'd tell you. Also, fuck you, my sleep schedule is just fine thanks.
CG: Karkat, It's three.
CG: Shut up.
You don't respond to that. Just roll your eyes and pocket your phone.
"Let me guess. 'Shut the fuck up Kankri you have no say over my sleep schedule, sleep is for the weak, I'd rather pin Dave and continue sexy time without bein' bothered by you bitchin' about my sleep schedule.'"
You snort. Jokes are good, your company must be helping. He continues, probably on account of the alcohol. "That is assumin' Karkat tops. Dave is a switch I know that much. Not too sure about Karkat, you know what no I don' wanna know don't tell me-"
You stare at him as he considers who tops, and then backhandedly asks you about Karkat's preference and- "Why would I know that anyway? In fact, why do you know that?" The topic has changed from you trying to pry information from him, and you decide you don't mind. He can talk about what brought him here when he's ready but till then...
"Kankri, don't take this the wrong way, but who the fuck do you think Dave goes to with his sex questions, your father?"
When Dirk had turned 18 he'd gotten custody of Dave, who was a couple of years younger than him, but before that, they were living with your family because David couldn't be around as much as he wanted and they weren't willing to leave the group behind for him.
You chuckle and shake your head. "I suppose that's fair. That would be, extremely awkward." He turns his head towards you, with a raised eyebrow. He's more willing to look at you now. It's shoots relief through you. You had been afraid you'd lost him for a while there.
"What, Karkat doesn't come to you about that stuff?" You choke on nothing. "No! Absolutely not! You know how I feel about that topic, Dirk!" Forgetting yourself, you smack his shoulder and regret it instantly when he flinches.
But then there's laughter, honest to god laughter. "Dude, easy. I could fall." More laughing. "I was also kidding." You hide soft laughter with your hand. "You just wanted a reaction you, you heathen!" He snorts, leans back to laugh some more. "If anyone's the heathen here it's you, Kanks. You drink and smoke behind everyone's back. Hell, I bet even your celibacy is just a front." You cross your arms and squint at him. "Oh, I bet you wish it was, Mr. Strider. Does attraction to Vantases run in your family by chance?" The banter comes easily, neither of you means a word and you both know it.
"Trust me, Kanks. If I wanted a piece of that ass I'd get it." Dirk smirks at you, and you know he doesn't mean that either, it's just how he is. "You wouldn't do that to me, and you know it. You'd ask nicely." He nods. "I would ask nicely if I wanted you, which for the record I do not."
"I'm almost offended." He snickers as you tell him this. "Really?" He asks, quirking his other eyebrow. "Almost, Dirk. Almost. But the feeling is mutual. I'm not interested." You huff and lean more over the railing to look at him. "Good, cause me being here for why I am would be real awkward if you were." You groan and bump your head against his arm. "You, my friend, are the epiphany of awkward." Dirk chuckles and shifts his arm to wrap around your shoulders. It makes them tense, but you sought out the physical contact first. He, ever the gentleman, does go to pull away when you tense, but you reach up to grab his wrist to keep him from doing that. "You're okay." You reassure him. "I don't mind, it's just a force of habit. When he nods you let go of his wrist, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, watching what stars you can see despite the city lights.
Eventually, though, Dirk sighs heavily, shifts his arm to hold your far shoulder, silently asking you to look at him, so you do, but you remain quiet.
"Kankri..." He whispers like any louder would break him. "Ready to talk now?" You ask, and he slowly nods. "I'm the absolute fuckin' worst." Still whispering, gaze fixated on the world before him. "You're not." You correct him. "You may be socially challenged, and have many many issues, but you're not the wors-"
"Kankri.." He cuts you off. "I wasn't finished, it's rude to interrupt." Your mouth snaps shut. Normally this would be said in a teasing manner, but Dirk is deadly serious. So you nod and keep your opinions to yourself. "Kan. I fucked up. I fucked up, really, really fuckin' bad. Like Orpheus, turnin' to look at Eurydice bad. Like Romeo drinkin' the actual poison and causin' Juilet's suicide bad." The reference to Greek mythos and Shakespeare confuses you greatly. He doesn't elaborate so you pull out from under his arm to look at him fully. "Fucked up how, Dirk?" Your use of the word doesn't phase him, even though it should.
Dirk is back to not wanting to look at you, but you see a tear slide down his cheek. He's crying again, in front of you. The sight sends white-hot panic through you. "I..." You risk setting a hand on his shoulder, gentle, reassuring. "I won't judge you, Dirk. Just, tell me. Please." You may be tipsy, which is why you're fine with initiating contact, it may just be Dirk, you're not too sure.
He shakes his head. "Promise me somethin', Kanks?" You nod. "Alright, what is it?" He's quiet in thought for a moment too long, then he looks up at you. "That you will tell me if you hate me for this." You nod, despite knowing you probably won't.
Dirk looks away again and takes a shaky breath. "I cheated on him." His voice cracks on the word and tears fall more freely. He reaches up to wipe them away. That statement makes rage shoot through your veins, but you are giving him a chance to explain himself. "I, I thought... No, it don't fuckin' matter what I thought, I was wrong." His voice trembles, and if he hadn't just told you he'd cheated on your best friend, you'd pity the poor bastard. "I was wrong, and had been sleepin' with Jake behind his back anyway."
You struggle to smother the anger rising like a burst pipe, but you can't help but hiss. "English?" Your tone is harsher than you mean it to be. "You slept with fucking English behind Cronus' back?!" There's the pissed-off he had predicted and you had refuted. Then again you hadn't thought he'd confess something so ridiculous.
Dirk cringes at your raised voice, and you simply cannot feel bad. This information even makes you light another cigarette. "I want an explanation right this second Strider or I swear to god-" There's this pitiful whimper that makes you stutter and lose where that threat was going.
You take a breath and close your eyes. "I'm sorry. Just, you had better have a really, really good reason for it. And none of that, your train of thought while doing it doesn't matter bullshit." You snap the word, as Dirk's head drops into his hands. "I thought he was doin' shit behind my back too. Petty revenge runs deep in my fuckin' bloodline, Kankri. So does fucking self-sabotage. Trust me, man, nothin' you can throw at me in reaction to this can make me hate myself more than I already do. It was stupid and I have never regretted anything more in my whole life." His words are punctuated with soft sobs, and it makes your anger simmer down, slightly. "Where are they now?" He knows who they are.
"I don't know." He mutters. "I don't know... Cronus left, and I kicked Jake to the curb after having him fetch me more vodka to mix with my drink. There wasn't enough. I don' know where either of them are. I don't care about Jake, and I am not going to ask about Cronus. I don't deserve to know."
Damn right he doesn't. You think as you take a drag. You never thought that you'd actually want to kill anyone, but Dirk suddenly sparks that in you. You repress the urge though and breathe smoke out through your nose.
"I know, Kankri. I know. I just...." He trails off, burying his face deeper in his hands.
Something possesses you to grab the strap of his tank top and yank him off the railing. Dirk yelps when you do, but unhooks his legs from the bar to let you drag him backward. He stumbles a bit when you set him upright on his feet and forcefully turn him to face you. Then grab the fabric across his chest, yank him close, and pull him down to your height. This close you can see wide, half-scared topaz behind his shades.
"Diedrik what the F U C K?!"
"Kanks-" He tries, but you shake him a tad to shut him up. "No! Don't you dare 'Kanks' me, Strider. What the hell were you thinking?" Cronus was your closest friend and you would kill and die for him, and you are not above beating the absolute shit out of his boyfriend for him. If you were a better man you wouldn't raise a hand to Dirk, but you are not a better man. "You have the nerve to show up at my home, make me worry about you, only to tell me you are an unfaithful asshole! How dare you think I would feel bad for you?!"
"Kri, That wasn't the point 'a my visit." You ignore him and keep talking. "I cannot! Believe you!" He takes your verbal abuse like he deserves it, and in your opinion, and probably his too, he does. "That is some Bro bullshit right there!" You regret saying it when his breath hitches, and he lets out a pained noise, like the comparison literally hurt. "I thought you were above his level. I thought you were above being a selfish, egotistical, self-serving prick!" Dirk looks away from you then, and you know what you said did hurt. "I guess I was fucking wrong."
He doesn't refute you like he does when anyone off-handedly compares him to Bro. He doesn't give you a comeback. He doesn't say anything, just finds somewhere else to look that isn't you.
You glare at him in silence, let your eyes follow the silent tears, and the more you do, the more your anger evaporates. Then his words echo in your head
Trust me, man, nothin' you can throw at me in reaction to this can make me hate myself more than I already do.
You know this isn't true, because you made the comparison. No, you do not forgive him for what he pulled, but your hand loosens in his shirt, and your expression softens. "Dirk... I.." You sigh when he doesn't even glance at you.
Your hand releases the black fabric, and you trail your hand up to his shoulder, down his arm, to his wrist, where you not so gently grab hold and turn around. "Come on." You say, and don't give him a chance to respond as you walk back over to the doors.
"Kankri-" He tries, but you look over your shoulder to glare, give his arm a harsh yank, and tug him into your home, snapping at him to close the doors as you walk through them. He barely gets them shut before you're approaching your couch and shoving him down onto it. He barely misses hitting your laptop as he falls, but you don't care. Instead, you turn to stride into your kitchen. You grab two water bottles from your fridge and head back to your living room.
Dirk hasn't moved, but he does move to save your laptop before you collapse next to him on the couch, handing him one of the bottles. "Drink this before you blackout on me." You mumble, he doesn't refuse, taking the bottle and twisting the cap off so he can take a drink. "You didn't kill me, and you're letting me stay." He says as if he can't believe that he's still alive.
"Don't push it, Strider." You cross your arms. "I just do not trust you alone right now. With you in the state of mind, you are in. I'm still angry do not think I'm not. Just.." You pause to take a drink of that water and sigh afterward. "You're a man who makes many mistakes. This one is just one of the worse ones. However, you're strong, and you'll pull through, you always do with the right support." You sink into the couch cushions as Dirk watches you as you talk. "I'm not saying this is one you can fix, I seriously doubt it is. But..." You look at him. "You're reckless, and take things way too far, but I..." You rub your eyes and let your head hit the back of your couch. "I care about you, Dirk. I'm not going to let you spiral because of this. I should let you, but I'm not." Remember how you said you weren't a better man? You are. You very much are. Something can't let you kick Dirk out on his ass like you desperately want to. Why don't you?
Well, you're unsure of what he'll do alone, and with Dave asleep beside Karkat, you're the only hope he has. Rox is probably too wasted to be any real help, and you are not putting the two together. They'd probably be even angrier than you if Dirk told them. Rox and Cronus sort of have this solidarity. Neither you nor Dirk could ever figure out why. They just get along like a house on fire. For some obscure reason.
You should be spamming Cronus to figure out where he's at and make sure he's not doing anything stupid. Though your situation will probably get to Eridan through Karkat, so you don't doubt someone'll track Cronus down.
Right now you have to deal with the disaster of a human sitting beside you. He's absolutely pitiful. Curled up on the far end of your couch, pressed up against the arm. He wasn't showing it earlier, but he's terrified. It does strange things to your heart.
Dirk's fallen into that eerie silence again, but you're fine with that this time.
Sighing you reach over to set a hand on his knee. He jerks at your touch. "Dirk, relax." You finally tell him what you've been wanting to tell him since he showed up. "I'm upset, yes. But not just at you. Both of you are terrible at communication. Yes, you're the one that actually did the bad thing, but listen." You remove your hand from his knee and sit back. "You're going to be fine. You're also going to stay here." His head jerks up at you. "What-?!" "For now." You add quickly. "Someone has to keep you from becoming an alcoholic." He pauses. "That's a strange assumption to make, Kankri." He mutters, but the way his head turns to the wine bottle that you didn't put away tells you all you need to know.
"I'm not stupid, Dirk." You stand to grab the bottle and put it back in its hiding place. You flop back beside him a moment later, your drinks a pleasant buzz in your head now.
"Dirk?"
"Sup?"
"Want to hear something funny?"
He looks at you in silence, but you just shift to drape yourself over the couch, arms stretched over the back. "We need to get together more often."
"I thought you were mad at me." He raises an eyebrow. "Oh, I am very mad at you. I am livid, but it won't last, it never does with you."
"Why?" Dirk shifts, slowly relaxing again. "Because you don't understand people any more than I do. We're both lost souls wandering through life and fucking it all up as we do."
"You curse?" He asks.
You lazily turn your head to stare at Dirk like he's insane. "Did you miss all the curse words I threw at you a moment ago?" He shakes his head. "I did Kanks, I just thought that was an anger thing."
You snort and roll your eyes. "Dirk, I'm a Vantas. Of course, I curse. I just have the extensive vocabulary not to use them as punctuation." Somewhere, Karkat is probably offended. "Of course." Dirk chuckles, relaxing. "I get it."
You shift again, turning your body towards Dirk. "C'mere." You say, lifting an arm off the back of the couch, an open invite. Dirk looks at you as if you're crazy. "No, seriously." You tell him. "Come here, you look like you're freezing." He stares some more, then asks. "Are you actually gonna be okay with that, I mean with your touch aversion and all?" You regard him for a moment. It does stupid things to the organ in your chest. The soft tone he uses. The fact that he is not okay and you're offering comfort, but he needs to make sure you're going to be okay with it before he accepts the offer. It's sweet.
"The liquor in my system seems to think so. Offer only lasts so long, Topaz. Take it or leave it." You raise your eyebrows at him. Almost reluctantly, he does move into your waiting arms, curls up against you like he needs nothing more. He goes to rest his head on your shoulder, but you stop him to pluck off his shades.
His eyes shut and he looks away from you out of habit. It's endearing. "Hal, I'm going to toss you. Don't panic."
"Be gentle with me, Kankri. Dirk is not in the best state of mind to fix me."
"Don't worry, Hal. I'd never intentionally harm you." You gently toss the sentient sunglasses onto the coffee table and get a little 'oof' in response. It makes Dirk chuckle into the fabric of your sweater, which he's buried his head in to avoid the bright lights of your apartment. You settle your arms around him, rest your chin on his head. "Kanks, you gotta relax, dude." His voice is muffled. You're stiff, you know. You haven't had anyone this close to you since, well you can't remember when. "Look, more power to you if you're able to relax immediately when someone asks, but for your information, I haven't had this much physical contact in literal years, so keep your comments to yourself please." He actually does keep his comments to himself until-
"You called me Topaz." He mentions like you weren't aware of it.
"Mhm." You breathe, one of your hands finding its way into his, surprisingly soft, hair. "Like your eyes."
"I didn't think you liked nicknames." You chuckle. "No, Dirk. I do. I love nicknames. However, the ones you come up with are terrible. I would like to inform you that I actually highly dislike 'Kanks.' Though, I can tolerate it." Dirk turns his head into your touch. "How do you feel about Kanny?" You shrug. "Equally obnoxious, but endearing, and that's not of your creation." Dirk sighs heavily, actually stretching across you like an oversized cat. "True, but I gotta go through all of the nicknames. What about Kri?" His words are starting to slur, the alcohol suddenly hitting him like a freight train. "I actually don't mind that one." You scratch at the back of his head, you can feel his chill from through your sweater, and you absently wonder how long he'd been out before he'd decided on you. "Hm... Noted, What about Kan?" You actually have to think about that one. "Sometimes I don't know if someone is referring to me or Kanaya but I'm actually pretty neutral on Kan." He nuzzles into your chest, and heaves a heavy sigh, like all the stress of his day disappears with some basic cuddling.
"Kankri?" He asks, and you hum in response, the warm buzz and Dirk's weight making you lazy. "You're allergic to cherries, right?" He looks up at you, with orange eyes regarding you curiously. "Yes, why?" There's this little goofy alcohol-induced smile on his lips, before his head drops back on your chest, making you grunt and lightly swat the back of his head. "Ironic." Is all he says. "What do you mean, ironic?" Dirk's arms slide up under your back, and he's practically clinging to you now. Affectionate drunk, interesting. "It's ironic 'cause you smell like cherries. Like, the freshly picked kind. The cigarette smoke is there too, but it's, like mostly cherries."
You laugh softly and tug him backward, so instead of sitting up, you're laying down. Dirk curled up on top of you like some sort of koala. 'Cute' your alcohol hazed mind supplies, and you subsequently tell it to fuck off. You know you're going to loathe the prolonged contact when you sober up, but you're going to bask in it while your mind lets you. "Dirk?" You ask and get a muffled sort of 'mrmph' noise from your shoulder. "Don't drool on me. This is my favorite sweater." You feel the puff of air that is his laugh. You groan and nuzzle into his hair. He smells like oranges and the sea after a storm, which is uncanny. Why? Because there's no ocean anywhere near here. "Okay, if you're going to question me about my cherry scent, why do you smell like the ocean? The orange makes sense, you practically survive on the things."
"Dunno." He shrugs. "That a bad thing?" You hum. "No, it's not a bad thing. It's just strange. Considering the sea is nowhere near here." There's silence for a moment, before Dirk shifts to look at you. "Kanks, is it okay if I pass the fuck out on you, I can feel it creepin' up on me." He asks. You smile softly and ruffle his hair. "Of course, just, please don't take offense if I freak out when I wake up and am sober, okay?" His eyes roll. "Wouldn' dream of it, Kankri. I get you." His head rests back on your shoulder. "Hey, Kankri?" He asks with a yawn. "Mm..?" You respond, with your own yawn interrupting. It's late, must be around four now. "Thank you. For this.. 'nd not lettin' me be alone. I don' know what I'd be doin' right now if ya hadn' dragged me in here." That softens you to degrees you didn't even realize possible. "Hush. Get some rest, Dirk. I'm not going anywhere." It doesn't take long for his breathing to even out, and for him to relax completely. Limp in your arms, in that dead to the world state that drunks get when they finally, finally fall asleep after drinking half their weight in foul-tasting bitters.
Once you're sure he's asleep, you tilt your head back to stare at the ceiling. You should have kicked him out, killed him for hurting Cronus like you know he did, but the thing is...
The way the stoic prick looked at you, and damnit, your soft, you can't help it.
"Please.. Don't give up. I care about you." You fall asleep quickly after that whisper.
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That was three months ago.
Dirk comes around much more often now. Spends the night more often than he leaves.
He spends so much time in your home that there's a Shinogi-Zukuri Katana resting next to your sickles in the would-be umbrella holder near your front door.
He's there so often that you don't even turn around when the balcony doors open and shut behind you, you just continue to sip at your coffee.
You don't even flinch when arms wrap around your waist before Dirk even finishes the teasing; "Trigger Warning, I'm about to nuzzle the fuck outta you." There's a cold nose at the back of your neck. "Must you really use me as your own personal heater?" You huff into your cup. "Not my fault you're so freaking warm, and you keep it colder than a witch's tit in a brass bra." You choke on your next drink. "Dirk that is the most inappropriate analogy you've ever made." He just hums into your skin. "I'm sure it is. Is that my shirt?" He asks. "I hadn't noticed." Though you smile. You absolutely noticed. "Sure, Kanks. Sure." You chuckle. "If it was your shirt it isn't anymore." Dirk's head appears over your shoulder, and you glance back at him. "What is it, love?" You ask, even as you lift your coffee to his face, he frees one hand from your waist to brush against yours around your cup so he can tilt it back and take a drink. "Nothin', Darlin'. Just, thanks." He had a habit of that, since that night three months ago. Thanking you. Most of the time you don't know where it comes from. His hand goes back to your waist, and you lean back into his chest. "What did I do to earn that this time?"
He's quiet for a moment, head resting on your shoulder. "This time?" He echos, seeming to ponder it.
"If I had to guess, this time I believe he means to thank you for existing."
"Thank you for the clarification, Hal." You've learned that Hal has this obsession with forcing Dirk into situations he doesn't want to be in, with needless clarification, or stupid comments that made Dirk hate him all the more. Their relationship was odd, then again, so was any relationship with Dirk. Even then, you turn your head to kiss his cheek. "Even if that isn't it, you're welcome, for whatever it is."
His shades are pushed up into his, now styled, hair. Thanks to the fact of the copious amounts of hair gel you've had to buy since he started spending most of his nights with you. "Hal was wrong, actually."
"Oh shit, I was?"
"Yes, yes you absolutely fucking were." You see Dirk roll his eyes. "I was actually thanking him in general, thank you. Also for saving my life, so fuck off and let me love on my boyfriend will ya? Don't you have one yourself that you should be pestering now anyway?" You'd saved his life that night. He'd admitted that once, when he'd thought you were asleep. A risky whisper into your hair, after one of your, albeit rare, breakdowns. He'd told you that he loved you in the same breath. That was a month ago.
"My significant other is still asleep, unlike you losers who decided to wake up at the ass crack of dawn, also fuck you, Kankri, for coercing my creator into waking up at ungodly hours just because he likes watching the sunrise with you, you absolute asshole. It means I have to be functional this early, and the only people I have to talk to are you two because everyone else sleeps until noon."
You laugh, shaking your head. Dirk/Hal banter has become one of your favorite things, watching them go back and forth for hours over who's more annoying. You don't take sides, you are not opening that can of worms. "How does your relationship work anyway, Hal?" You muse. "How does one date a pair of sunglasses?"
"Suck my nonexistent dick, Vantas."
"No thank you. I'm not into AI."
"No, but you're into their creators and considering I'm a direct copy of your now-boyfriend... Insert eyebrow wiggle here."
Dirk makes this appalled noise. "Hal, I'ma need you to step off." He grumbles as he nuzzles into the crook of your neck.
"I'm joking, Dirk. I'm perfectly happy in my relationship. Thank you"
"That wasn't an offer!!!"
There's a mechanical laugh and Dirk groans. "Kankri, save me." He begs you.
"Hal, don't tease him, he's fragile." Dirk jerks, and looks at you, eyes wide with mock offense. "You wound me, Kanny!" You stand up straighter to catch his pouting lips. He instantly goes slack, all acted offense vanishing as he turns you in his arms so he can easily cup your cheek and pull you impossibly closer.
"Oh god, gross. I'm out."
Dirk chuckles against your lips, as he pulls back just enough to breathe. "Where does he even go?" You ask with a smile, tilting your head into Dirk's hand. "I have no idea, I don't ask. I have no interest in what he does in his free time."
"Okay, I'm back. Dirk, Dave wants to talk to you, I don't think he'll understand that kissing Kankri equals busy to you."
You reach up to set Dirk's shades back over his eyes for him, so he can see whatever it is Dave wants. Your arms settle around his neck, having ditched your cup when he turned you. You're patient while he chats with his brother. You can see the interface from, but can't read anything. It's backward from your end, but you can see the red and orange text rolling in.
"Dave wants to know if we wanna go with him, Karkat, Eridan, and Sollux tonight." He informs you after a moment. You raise an eyebrow at him. "Well, do we?" You ask, playing with the loose strands of his hair at the back of his neck. "I mean, I ain't opposed, but I'm not drinking." His hands settle on your hips. He'd single-handedly obliterated your aversion to touch, at least his touch, for some reason. "You can drink, I'll play designated sober person." You offer, tilting your head. "Alright, I'll bite. Why?" Dirk asks and you smirk. "If you're both drinking there's a high chance we'll be graced by a Strider musical duet. You know how you two get." He chuckles. "You know we actually sound better if we're sober and taking it seriously, right?"
"Oh, I know, but that's no fun."
"Well, look at you, Kankri Vantas, a little rebel." His hand finds your chin so he can tilt your head up to kiss you again. "Promise you won't record my shenanigans or some shit?" He requests when he pulls back.
"Oh, I would never. Do you really think that little of me?" You give this little huff, and he just laughs at you. "'Course not Cherry Bomb, just gotta cover my ass. I told him were going and you're the designated sober dude." You nod.
"You shouldn't cover it you know. It's a rather fine one."
Dirk stares at you like you've lost your mind. Hal's reaction isn't as silent though.
"OH MY FUCKING GOD!"
It makes you sputter out a laugh, your head thunks against Dirk's chest as you lose yourself to your laughter. "Kankri, I love you." Your laughter triggers Dirk's, and it's not long until the two of you are losing your shit at the expense of the poor AI. "I love you too." You manage in between laughs.
"IT ISN'T FUNNY, GUYS! THIS IS ABSOLUTE TORTURE I'M GOING TO SELF-DESTRUCT."
All that gets him is more wheezing laughter.
"I HATE YOU BOTH, FUCK YOU GUYS."