Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The city buzzes with life, even in the dying daylight. Cars hum along, people walk through the streets, and life seems… normal. There’s been an undeniable tension in the air for the past few months, but tonight? It’s peaceful.

Nothing too interesting happened on tonight's patrol, so you've settled on the rooftop of some apartment block not far from where you actually live.Not that you’re going to let that on. You'd snagged a blanket off of someone's balcony to sit on together, listening to the sounds of the people you’re protecting going about their lives.

Mene has been off all evening. Usually, they’re chattier, but tonight they’ve had a faraway look in their catlike eyes.

“Scarab.” Mene says, voice quiet and pinched, pupils settling on you, but not making eye contact. They shuffle a little closer to you, leather of their suit squeaking, and instinctively you reach out, slinging an arm over their shoulders. “Once this is all over and we have nothing to worry about anymore- do you think..” they glance up in the direction of your face before their eyes shoot off to somewhere in the distance again. “Are we going to stay friends?”

“Don't see why we wouldn't be.” You squeeze their arm, hoping they find it reassuring. It's hard to tell. It's weird when Mene gets closed off, usually they're so flamboyant and open- but they seem so small right now. You're reminded, for a moment, that Mene is the same age as you. They're just a kid, and they're still by your side, making holding up the weight of the world feel so much more bearable and grinning all the while. “It's not like I'd be able to just forget you and move on with my life.”

They stare back at you, something in their expression that you can't quite name. They bump their head into your collar, cheek rubbing against the armoured part of your suit around your neck, “I suppose there's no reason to worry then.” they say, voice in a weird pitch, even for them.

Your brow raises, shifting to try and look them in the face, but they keep turning away from you. Eventually they just bury their face entirely in your neck, and you realise belatedly they've managed to get pretty damn well snuggled up to you. 

Not that it's really an issue. What are you gonna do, shove them off when they're clearly upset about something? 

“Mene.” you huff, and run your fingers through their hair, avoiding the leather ears perched on their head. It's silky, softer than a goddamn dream. Never tangled or knotted, defying all logic. It's probably a boon from the miraculous. Your own hair gets pulled up in the world's tightest, neatest ponytail after all. 

Still, you try to get them to actually listen. “Kitty . When Saturnia is gone, we can still meet up every day for patrol. There's not going to be supervillains, but there might be other people who need our help. And if there isn't, it means we can just hang out.”

They shift, obviously trying not to tilt their head back into the hair petting. It's hard to say whether they act like a cat because of a quirk of the miraculous or if they choose to act like that. You don't act like a bug as far as you're aware. You don’t spend a lot of time around ladybugs to know for sure.

“What's the real reason you're being so weird?  Tell me.” You can only put up with so much vague moping. They finally lift their head up, lips pursed in a sort of pout. 

“Do you promise that you won't think it's silly?”

“Cross my heart.”

“..” They sigh, leaning into your hand finally. “I suppose I'm.. a bit anxious that when things change you won't need me anymore. It's me and you against the world, but what happens when the world isn't against us anymore?”

Good question. Your thumb brushes their brow, and you chew the inside of your cheek. 

Being a superhero was never your plan.

You want to change the world, sure, but as Dirk Strider, not Scarab. And things are bound to change once Saturnia is gone.  No more akuma, no need for lucky charms, no need to fight.  Sure, you never wanted this, but now that you're here, you can't imagine stopping. You can't imagine it ever ending. Even if some day, something has to give- hopefully it's not Saturnia winning.

So what happens to you two when it's over? 

You wouldn’t need to do this anymore- to protect Paris. To save people. To fight for their right to experience negative emotions without being turned into supervillains with magic emotional manipulation. You’d never need to transform ever again.

But- you don’t want to lose your friend. The only person who would truly know what you went through.

 Exhale. 

“You're not getting rid of me that easily. I’m always going to need my partner.”

Their cheeks look warm, and you can tell you've said something to remind them of their crush on you just by the way they're looking at you. 

Of course you know about it; they're entirely unsubtle. They confess to you just about every day. It's- weird. People have had crushes on you before, and they've never been something you've taken too seriously, but there's something about the way that Mene seems totally blown away by you that's different. You wish Jake looked at you like that, but there's no way you could hold his attention in class or any social situation you could hope for his strict schedule to allow for, not like you do with Mene. There's no chance in hell you could hope to replicate the thrill of a battle with a supervillain in a literature class you can barely stay awake in, that you and Jake aren't the only two people in. 

Getting Jake's attention and simultaneously not making an ass of yourself is.. difficult. Your profound desire to figure out what his deal is has remained unfulfilled- but you are something you could describe as friends. But his true self- because that perfect exterior has to be some kind of facade- remains a mystery to you. Every time you think you might be getting somewhere you hit a dead end. He tries harder to pull the wool over your eyes. 

He never breaks character. But you're certain that's all it is- a character. Something about it seems so fragile, so fake. His smile feels so practised. In moments when he thinks nobody is watching, he doesn’t smile. He looks like a statue, a mournful sadness about him. But the minute he catches on that he’s not alone- that there’s a chance someone could see him, he’s bright and sunny even if nobody actually looks at him. But even if they are looking, nobody is seeing him. Nobody except you.

Mene feels so authentic that you’re certain that this is how they must act in their personal life.  They’re so unrestrained in showing how they feel- at first you'd thought it insincere, thought they were just a flirt and a little bit of a show off,  but it's clear by now they just love being themself- flamboyant, funny, vicious in a fight. 

Most importantly, they're your friend. 

“Are you purring?” Their back straightens out, and their eyes go wide when catching sight of your shit eating smirk-  realising you were fucking with them. They scoff, reaching out to give you a playful thump on your arm. 

“Bastard!” They laugh, and you find yourself laughing with them. 

Eventually, you both have to head home. The street lights illuminate the streets that you swing over in a golden glow. No butterflies bother anyone- and you’re glad for the break, because Saturnia has been making it her personal mission to tank your grades with the interuptions to your schoolday.

You intend on doing your homework once you slip back into your bedroom window- but you end up falling asleep almost as soon as your head hits the pillow, transformed back into your regular self. No longer Scarab, just Dirk Strider.

You dream in red and black spots.

Chapter Text

“Look.” You say, drawing Nepeta’s attention to your notebook. Inside lay your preciously handcrafted schedule - not for yourself, but for Jake. It's undeniable how fucking weird you are for doing it, but she doesn't judge, thank god.  Instead, she tilts her head at where you're pointing, humming as she considers what you're showing her. 

There's a gap, of course, between his Mandarin lesson this Friday and his modelling shoot on Sunday. A whole day where he, apparently, had nothing happening- nothing he'd mentioned, at least. Your mind buzzes with ideas, but you've got to make sure it's not a mistake on your part. 

“Would it be weird to call him? I don't know.” You bite the inside of your cheek, staring at the lack of writing on the little calendar. 

“You're friends!” She nudges your shoulder. “It's purrfectly normal to ask if your friends want to hang out with you…” her smile shifts, turns vicious. “Or you could just ask him on a date.”

You push her away, and she cackles as she falls back into your plush desk chair, spinning away with it. “It's not like that and you know it.”

“Don’t lie!” She squeals, and you huff at her antics. She doesn't stop though. “I bet he'd be pawsitively touched to go on a date with you! ..Maybe don't show him your stalker diary though?”

You quickly shut your notebook. “I can't ask him on a date. Firstly because I don't like him like that,”  Nepeta rolls her eyes, but you're quick to continue before she can cut you off, “ and because he's always being surrounded by  people who want to date him. If I did that I wouldn't be any better than his weirdo fans or-” you grimace at even the thought of saying her name, “Vriska Serket.” 

Nepeta, thankfully, seems to consider this. She taps a sharp nail against her chin, and her foot against the floor. “You make a good argument. Okay so maybe hanging out as friends would work out better fur you, but you still have to ask him to actually get to that point.”

Right. You sigh, sliding your notebook into your drawer and locking it securely inside. Maybe you're paranoid, but you'd really prefer not risking someone finding it. 

Minutes later, you're sitting on your bed, Nepeta peering over your shoulder with wide, expectant eyes as your thumb hovers over Jake's phone number. “Stop being a scaredy-cat and call him!” She huffs, shaking your arm enough to cause you to accidentally press the screen. 

Without your permission, your body goes stiff, holding the intrusive rectangle in your hand tightly. It rings. What do you say? How are you going to emphasize that you mean it as friends without seeming like you're overcompensating? What if he thinks you're weird? Or comes up with an excuse that he's busy because he doesn't want to hang out with you?

“Um. Dirk? Hello?”

Oh. Jake's voice is coming from the phone. You bring it up to your ear, embarrassed. 

“Sorry. I didn't mean to call you.” What the fuck. 

“Oh! Er. That’s-”

“No- I mean, I did. I wanted to call you.” You interrupt him quickly, “I just pressed the call button before I was ready and lodged my foot practically down my throat when you picked up.” You need to be silenced forever. He probably hates you. 

“...I see! Well in that case what did you want to talk to me about? If it's about the homework I don't mind sharing some of my answers!” Shit. You'd overslept and not only were you late to class, you'd forgotten to do your homework again. He thinks you're an idiot. 

…Maybe you could work with that. 

 “Actually, are you free on Saturday? Maybe we can study together and you can help me catch up on homework there.” 

“This Saturday?” 

“Yeah. If that works with you.” Are you sweating? So gross.  Nepeta pressing against you to try and hear what Jake is saying isn't helping either. 

There's some rustling sounds- and then what sounds like the clicking of a mouse. “Oh, that's…” Jake's voice sounds a little distant, as if he's moved away from the microphone. 

“Jake?”

“Would you believe it, I really don't have anything going on on Saturday. I'll still have to ask Mother for permission- but I'm sure I can convince her! She's sure to understand if it's for school. And you could come here so she can keep an eye on us?”

You really do not want your time with Jake being observed by an adult, least of all the owner of Skaianet and founder of Crockercorp, you already get nervous enough around Jake. She could totally blacklist you from ever working in the tech field if you're not careful. You're gunning for a Skaianet apprenticeship at some point, and if she decides she doesn't like you- 

Not only will your future be ruined, but you would probably have to kiss your chances at actually figuring out Jake's deal goodbye. She'd probably forbid him from seeing you- even at school. She might even stop letting him go to school at all, that doesn't seem beyond her. 

Though you'd definitely been doing your research on Jake's background, you'd been interested in Skaianet for long before you'd met him. You'd obviously known he existed; he’s a model, and not to mention Vriska bragged about their friendship constantly. But Skaianet was a new frontier for research and development in robotics and astrophysics- your future, if moonlighting as a superhero doesn’t ruin your chances. 

“Yeah. We can do it at your place- what time should I be there?” 

Saturday couldn’t have come soon enough. At least this week you keep up something resembling a decent routine-  class in the day, patrol in the evenings. The longer Saturnia goes without a new champion, the more nervous you get. Mene does their best to look on the bright side, after all, you get to hang out without fighting for your lives- but it only goes so far. The atmosphere isn't peaceful, it's tense, the whole city holding their breath, yourself included, waiting for shit to hit the fan. 

But sure enough, it rolls around, and you find yourself staring at the large gate around the English Manor. It's imposing, sharp, and bright red, harsh against the more neutral colours of the walls around the property. Warily, you press the intercom, keeping your expression decidedly neutral, even if you feel sweat building on the back of your neck. 

“Yes?” Crackles the speakers in a voice that is decidedly not Jake's. It's feminine, sure, but authoritative and sharp. 

“It’s- I’m here to see Jake. I'm his classmate, Dirk.” You look into the camera lens from behind your shades, chewing the inside of your cheek. 

“One moment.” There's a distinct sound, the clacking of keys at a computer, and then silence for a beat before the voice returns. “Dirk Strider, correct?” The flick of paper. “ And you're here for a homework assignment?” 

“Yes.” You figure the less you talk, the better. “Just homework.” 

The crackle of the intercom dies, and the gate opens in one fluid motion. You step past the threshold, walking down the long, white-pebbled driveway and eventually you reach the stairs. Before you get to the imposing doors, though, they open and Jake steps out to greet you with a wide grin. 

Your foot catches on one of the steps and you stumble forward, his face falling almost as quickly as you do. 

Luckily, you manage not to brain yourself on the limestone, catching yourself in time with a grunt and the clattering sound of your shades flying off your face. An ache shoots up through your palms and knee where you landed, too, just to remind you that, yeah, you really did just nearly fall on your face in front of Jake. You're the world's biggest dipshit. It's almost a good thing he already thinks you're an idiot, because you're considering just turning around and going home. You're never going to recover from this. 

“Dirk!” Jake calls, and his face comes into view- oh, shit, he's really close- and for a moment he seems to freeze looking at you. You blink at each other. You'd never noticed how green his eyes are without your shades on. You open your mouth to apologise for your obvious fuckup, but he speaks first, helping you back onto your feet. He’s frowning now,  looking at your hands. “Cheese on rice- let's get this cleaned up. You nearly gave me a heart attack doing that!"

You nod dumbly. “Yeah. Probably a good idea.” You manage to croak out,  having been entirely willing to just deal with it when you get home later. Jake seems to relax a little, taking a few steps back to pick up your shades for you. He gives them a once over and rubs them on his shirt to try and clean them- and then he unfolds the arms. 

The world freezes for a moment as he hooks them over your ears, his fingers brushing against your cheeks, and pushes your shades back onto your face. He smiles at you, patting your shoulder all friendly-like. Your heartbeat skyrockets. You feel like you're going to pass out. What the fuck is your problem, actually? He's just being nice. “There. I don't think I've ever seen you without these on, so they must be important! I'm glad they're not broken.”

“Me too.” You're not going to make it to the end of the day. This assignment is going to be the death of you. Jake says nothing else, just takes you by the wrist, mindful of where your hands hurt, and leads you inside. You can't imagine what he must think of you. 

The inside of the English Manor is eerily sterile. It's all white- occasionally there's spots of red or black. There's a woman at a desk by the door, dressed in a sharp suit. Her hair is long, black and straightened, and she sports a pair of square glasses on her nose. She peers from her PC at the two of you, a brow arched. Her lipstick is almost as dark as her skin,  and she has high, defined cheekbones. There's a nameplate on her desk- Latula, it says. 

“Is everything alright?” Her voice sounds a little different, but you recognise it immediately as the one from the intercom. There's more concern in her tone now, though it's still pointed. Jake stiffens,  shrugging at her question. You watch him, how he doesn't take his eyes off of her, but doesn't let go of you, tense for a reason you can only puzzle over. 

“It's fine!” He says, cheery enough sounding. You'd believe it was genuine if you didn't know he was lying. “We're just going to my room now. No time to dilly-dally!” And he doesn't wait for a response before starting to walk again. You have no objection to leaving that situation, feeling her gaze burning the back of your neck

You don't look back.  You let him lead you through the manor- up the staircases and down hallways until you reach his bedroom. The decor around the house blends together, as if intentionally trying to seem as lifeless and untouched as possible. It's like a showroom, with no signs of anyone having ever lived in it. You'd get so lost if you didn't have Jake as your guide here. He still hasn't let go of you. You wonder how long that's going to last. 

You really hope he hasn't noticed that you're sweating. 

When you walk into his room together, it's almost exactly what you'd expect. It's a rich teenage boy's bedroom- expensive gadgets, a massive flat screen TV, a whole couch, all the latest games consoles- a dvd player, too. The windows are huge- but you can't see very well out of them, given that most of them are covered in movie posters, but it makes the room a little dim, even with the lights on. 

Jake just smiles at you, and takes you into his bathroom. It's huge in there too, with a separate bath and shower, floor to ceiling cupboards, and a heated towel rack. Jake directs you to the sink with a hand gesture, head tilting. 

“Right-o! Let me know if you need a bandage or the like.”

You silently wash your hands, using his expensive looking aloe vera hand-soap while he leaves to go- sit in his room, you guess? Holy shit, what are you doing here. 

You're alone again, if only for a moment. You look over yourself in the mirrors. Your hair isn't messed up, but your clothes don't look their best, the knee if your black jeans is all scuffed and grey looking, a little torn, maybe. You'll have to fix it later. 

Your hands are.. fine. Grazed. It'll clear up in a few days, but your face twists in annoyance regardless. You fumble with your pockets for a moment before putting on your fingerless leather gloves, you'd rather look like a douchebag who wears them inside than an idiot who trips over his own feet and gets himself hurt. 

“Tikki, tell me what to do here.” You hiss, as the kwami peaks out from your pocket. “Please.” You manage, and she smiles at you. 

She floats up to sit on your shoulder, giving a knowing look. “It's not that complicated, Dirk. You need to stop overthinking it.” You scoff, and she whacks your earlobe with one of her little paw-thingies, her big blue eyes now giving you a little glare. “You asked for my advice, you know! Just listen to me and I promise everything will go smoothly.”

Maybe she's right. You sigh, and glance towards the door.  She follows your gaze, and floats herself back into your field of vision, moving forward and bumping her little forehead against yours. 

 It's weird to think how freaked out by her you were when you first got the earrings- who wouldn't be? You'd never been the type to believe in magic. And yet, there she was, a little god of creation and luck, taking the form of the world's most anatomically inaccurate beanie-baby. Aside from Nepeta and Mene, she's probably your closest friend. 

She buries herself back into your pocket. 

You exit Jake's fancy bathroom after what you assume is an appropriate amount of time. His head pokes over the back of his couch, a big smile on his face. Weirdly enough, it doesn't come across as entirely put on. 

He's… happy to see you. 

You're sweating again. You keep walking over, obviously, and carefully sit on the couch with Jake after calculating the optimal amount of space that should be between the two of you, already disregarding Tikki’s sound advice, and then you start getting your homework out-

“Oh! You just got here, we don't have to start right away you know. We have all day so I thought maybe we could pal around for a bit first.”

Huh?

You're staring at him like you're brain dead as the statement processes. 

“You.. want to just hang out.” It’s inconceivable.  Sure, you’re friends. Kind of. At school. But just- hanging out in his bedroom?

“Yeah? Yes. I’ve  just noticed that you seem awfully stressed. And I know you’re an intelligent fella, you don’t need my help with the content of the homework,” What is happening. “admittedly my  motivations for offering aren't entirely driven by selflessness- I've been dying to sit and watch some movies with someone! Er. If you're interested?”

“Sure. I mean- just getting to relax for a while does sound good.” You clear your throat a little, mentally stumbling over yourself and half wishing you had hit your head earlier, the embarrassment would have been worth not having to navigate the sudden social maze you're in if you'd had to deal with a head injury.  “Do you want to pick something to watch?”

“I’d love to!” Jake's grin is so wide, and you realise as he shoots to stand up that he'd been shifting closer to you on the couch as he'd talked. You watch him as he rifles through a huge cabinet of DVD cases, feeling like your heart might beat out of your chest. He's got to be doing that on purpose- making you feel so.... Does he know you're onto his little facade? Is he trying to throw you off by being cute? You don't like that you're so frazzled by it working. 

He puts the movie on- some action flick, comes back to sit right next to you, and.. That’s that. You turn your attention to the screen, and let the afternoon drift away.

The next thing you really remember, beyond discovering Jake’s shitty taste in movies and the vague notion of poking at your homework before getting back to goofing off, is waking up to  the sound of your phone buzzing. You shoot upright, jogging Jake awake, hearing him grumble as he, too, comes to and sits up. 

Your phone screen flashes up an akuma alert- you fumble to pick it up. There's a few new missed calls, too, some from Nepeta and some from your brother, and a notification of a livestream on the Scarablog-

You click on it, frowning deeply as you realise that she's filming from your bedroom window.

“Shit.”

You nearly jump out of your skin when you feel Jake's hand on your shoulder as he squeezed in close to get a glimpse, too. 

The livestream is showing- well. It’s hard to describe. A shifting mass, goo-like in texture, that was bulldozing everything in its path, and leaving a hazardous looking sludge behind it. You watch, grimacing, as a car left abandoned in the road is oozed over, and the only thing left of it is some melting metal.

“I should-” you start, but Jake talks over you. You turn your head and your jaw clenches. Your faces are barely a few finger’s widths apart.

“Is that your street?” He asks, brows furrowed. His glasses are off centre, a few marks on his nose where they’d been pressed into his skin in his sleep. Are you wearing your shades? You barely have time to process the fact that, hang on, were you asleep resting on each other- when you realise how worried Jake looks. “I’d say you should head home but I don’t know how safe it would be!”

“Hey, it’s cool.” You try to reassure him, and he looks incredulous at the mere suggestion. “If I start walking now, Scarab and Mene will probably have it dealt with by the time I get there, right?” 

Jake stiffens for what seems like just a picosecond, but is then nodding. “Alright- that does sound reasonable..”  Even then, he sounds a little reluctant. Fuck, fuck-

You shift to get some space, and then take one of Jake’s hands in between your own. “I had fun. We should definitely do this again but- my brother is probably worried, and Nepeta is in my room- god knows what she’s going to accidentally show to all her viewers. Just- do me a favour and lead me to the door? This place is a maze.”

He laughs. It’s music to your ears.

As soon as you’re outside and far enough down the street- you duck into an empty alleyway.  Once you double check there’s no security cameras or lingering civilians, you transform in a flash of pink light, and almost as quickly you swing your yo-yo up, and tug yourself out. You swing over  the rooftops, running along them, and into the fray again. Mene would be on their way soon, too, you figure, and you can’t waste time when you know people are in danger. 

You think you left your shades at Jake’s.