Now unfortunately, my internet got knocked out earlier today. (Rural living!) And I’m unsure if I’ll have luck posting it to Tumblr via hotspot tethering. It wasn’t going so well the last time this was an issue. We will see. 🤞
Because of delays writing (read: it got out of hands) I thought I’d post a preview of the next chapter, too! This is the start of the chapter, up to a relevant point, so clearly, spoilers for King of the Sun.
Dirk’s skin felt warm as Karkat’s cinders faded from around him and he caught the wall, panting and swigging down the water in the glass he’d been handed before the spirit sent him on his way to Jake’s room with a snap and a flare of brimstone. This time his knees hadn’t buckled entirely at least, and he considered that a success, even if Karkat’s words had left him doubting the discomfort would ever fade.
At least not until-
This time he chased the thoughts, but they slipped away, though he was too exhausted to dwell on it. Maybe when he dreamed, if it was more than a delusion, maybe he’d see red again and have a chance to catch it.
Karkat had stared at him with a troubled expression when he filled the space after the spirit’s apology for leaving with the question he needed answered, if it could’ve been real, if it was real. John’s never managed, Karkat reminded him, and trust me, he’s fucking tried more than you can imagine.
Maybe John couldn’t find him because he’d been occupied.
Karkat’s frown had been deep, but he’d nodded despite it. Maybe.
Dirk set the glass down on the table and sighed heavily, rubbing a hand up over his face and going to push his hair back before his fingers hit metal and he stopped, running his fingertips over the Crown and letting his eyes unfocus. Jake had left once everything was cleared, left him to the dance and the food, to the wide berth some people gave him or the excited chatter and thanks others brought. It had been clear the room was divided on what to think of his actions; not in that they were necessary, no, he had heard nothing but approval of his willingness to throw himself into danger for Jake- but the very fact he had been so quick to take off a man’s head, to break the neck of another… There was something to fear in a man who would kill without hesitation, no matter the cause.
Yet still, not everyone feared him.
Dirk looked down at his hand, curling his fingers slowly into his palm. It likely didn’t mean the same in Prospit, but for people who jumped at so much as a lingering touch to their shoulder, it meant something, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about how open the gesture had been. Still- it was the first time his hand had been held in his clear memory since he’d left Derse, foggy thoughts of someone guiding him distant and barely clear enough for him to trust as more than dreams. It was the first time he’d been touched by another human and it had lasted more than a few moments. The first time he’d found comfort in someone holding him for the sake of holding him.
He closed his eyes and let his breath shudder out, dropping his chin to his rest against his chest. He hadn’t realised how much he’d missed moments like that. Karkat holding his shoulders and not letting go, Jake taking his hand- he’d missed being held and holding others, and even if this was all he would get he would cling to it.
Finally, he admitted to himself what he’d been denying since the lonely nights away from Derse had begun to drag on too long; despite everything, despite all that he hated and all he knew he should feel, he missed the comfort of small touches and the luxury of bare skin, even knowing the price it had brought with it.
Nausea rose at that. Even after what she’d done, he missed it, he missed the moments he’d been good and she’d-
The moments he’d-
But she’d never… She hadn’t touched him, she’d never- never-
The words stuck in tar in his brain as the thoughts that had come naturally a moment before fell to a messy stop of gaps and unwanted confusion. His nose was stinging and he was glad he was alone as he gasped out a small sound that was too wet, too unguarded for his liking, forcing the threadbare memories back out of sight and clenching his hands tightly at his sides.
You’re hurting yourself.
Dirk blinked away the water welling in his eyes as the pain behind his eyes spiked, pressing his palms into them and groaning softly. Alright, good, the urges were becoming easier to discern as words and he didn’t know how to feel about that, didn’t know how to feel about anything.
“I don’t understand,” he told the room aloud.
“Don’t understand what?”
Oh. Of course.
Dirk turned to stare at Jake, hulking in the doorway with a flush to his cheeks and a slight haze to his eyes, his hand gripping the frame firmly to support himself as he gave a concerned frown.
“You know beating your gums all on your lonesome is rather bizarre and even if you’re balled up over all the highfalutin’ palava we got dragged through don’t go taking wooden sovereigns over the malarkey when you weren’t left holding the bag,” Jake told him with an accusing point, slipping in and getting the door shut on the second try. “I mean whatever her hoods were playing at we might not know from nothing but at least we’re all up and together and up and up despite it, right?”
Dirk stared at him as the hood came down and Jake’s messy hair spilled out of it. “I have no idea what you just said.”
“That’s dandy, nor do I.” Jake grinned lopsidedly, flicking his fingers at him and making them both jump like fired crossbows. “Got a bit buzzed, alright? Hard day and harder days coming and after Karkat had his beef out and his eyes on you I might’ve had a few glasses of sunshine and a few more of moonshine to boot.”
“You’re the strangest drunk I’ve ever met if this is what it does to you.”
“And how.”
Jake pulled his collar over his head and started an attempt at the arms that didn’t get very far before he was clearly tangled awkwardly in the smallest piece of fabric known to man, and Dirk collected his nerves from his brief falter, wiping his eyes dry as he moved over and pat Jake until he stopped squirming. It was easy to get the jacket unhooked, and Dirk dangled the offending article at Jake once it was off, snorting when it was snatched out of his hand.
“And somehow you survived how long without anyone to help you undress?” Dirk rolled his eyes and undid the cloak across his shoulders, setting it neatly down on the dresser. “I’m astounded by your tenacity.”
“It wasn’t hard, but having a hand can be the berries for sure, especially one who slays me like you do.”
“If you recall, slaying you is the exact opposite of what I’ve done.”
“Ha! You’re a riot.” Jake pushed his hand up his reddened cheek and back through his glossy hair, giving another smile that lit up his whole face and had his eyes shining. “Diamond in a landfill, or… maybe just the brightest one in a whole diamond necklace that’s just hanging ‘round a mare’s backside, but I’m still chewing cud on that one. You hear a lot of things, it’s hard to- ah, well, you know how it is, don’t you? Bet you’re still waiting for us to tear the masks off and all be a cabal of cannibals or something. Fancy that.”
Dirk paused, Jake’s tone cheery but his senses not quite quick enough to stop the hurt that showed in his eyes. It stung more than Dirk had thought it would, even now. He lifted his hand and touched the back of it to Jake’s shoulder, shaking his head. “...I don’t think that. Prospit isn’t what I thought it was.”
He dropped his hand but Jake caught it, ignoring Dirk’s inhale to look over his fingers instead, running a thumb over Dirk’s palm.
“Nor are you,” he said quietly, mumbled in a thoughtful slur. “Not what I thought, I mean. I had it in my head you were going to cop out on me, wake me with a knife or put me out with a nightshade nightcap. Wanted to see the best, always want to, but the best’s hard to see when all the world’s intent on raining right over your measly parade.”
Jake smiled at something, as Dirk tried hard not to curl his fingers and ruin the moment, to jar him out of whatever mood had let him give one more moment of contact. Jake glanced at him, then back down, face growing troubled. “...I really wasn’t thinking, that first night. I should’ve let you tear yourself apart, shouldn’t I? It would’ve been safer. And you know in all the rush I… I didn’t think about so many things. Didn’t think about the why or the who or something like gloves- You start being so used to them you just figure they’re always on, I guess, but they weren’t, and you sure as rain didn’t have any either.” He laughed at himself. “Look at me! Look at me. I’m a mess over this. People are out there losing far worse and I’m here fretting because someone finally crossed my palms with theirs and it was some Dersite rat crawled in off my roof to bite at all my fingers.”
“A rat, huh?” Dirk risked it, and Jake shook his head hard, waving his other hand.
“No, no, not anymore, I didn’t mean that, I… I don’t mean that, I mean, I did, I really did, and I think I hate myself a little for it.” He squeezed, the pressure making Dirk’s fingers curl in around his thumb. “It’s easy to hate someone you’ve never met. It’s easy to make them something they’re not where you can’t see the colour in their face or the fear in their…”
Their gazes met, and Jake faltered.
“You’d never killed anyone,” Dirk filled the silence, unable to ignore the fact Jake was yet to let go.
“No.” Jake swallowed. “I’d had a wild fancy I’d never have to, but I’ve always been a sap for things like that, figuring my hands’d be clean if I wanted, that nothing would ever come slap me silly with what people have to do to survive. That was my cock-up for believing it.”
“You didn’t have a choice-”
“There’s always a choice.” Jake’s grip tightened, and Dirk felt it, the uncomfortable shift in his knuckles and the bite of the glove against his palm. “I could’ve knocked him away! I could’ve done something, but he was going to hurt you and all I could think was if I was too slow we didn’t get a second shot!”
“You didn’t have to save me, Jake.”
“Oh, piss off. That’s the biggest load of cockamanie you’ve spouted yet and you spout enough baloney to keep a butcher in business!”
Dirk looked down at their hands when Jake’s intense expression grew too much to meet, closing his fingers entirely before an odd thought struck him, settled in and refused to be shifted. The silence dragged; he finally snapped and spoke.
“I’m still King, aren’t I?”
“Until midnight, yes, so you’ve got, oh,” Jake squinted at the ceiling, murmuring under his breath before he announced, “a good few minutes at least.”
“And as my Servant you’d do what I say?”
“If you’d do the same in my place, I may as well jump in both feet and say why the bloody hell not, right?”
Dirk drew air in, let it go, avoiding Jake’s eyes as the words tumbled out before he could rethink it. “...I want you to hold my hand.”
