Ch. 2
Ch. Two of the actualdirkstrudel.tumblr.com sadstuck. (finally) Whoop.
also I noticed all the notes from this came from likes, can we reblog this time? I want my writing to go somewhere and while likes are awesome, reblogs go further.))
Dirk laid curled up rigidly by Dave, his breathing deep and seeming exhausted even in his nine hour coma. It worried Dave.
It worried him that his boyfriend had a twenty percent chance for remission. Thirty that a stem cell transplant would work. His body was killing itself and it scared him.
But he knew if Dirk saw him waver he would distance himself more. Separate completely. Go back to living with his brother in Los Angeles. Dave wouldn’t let Dirk see how broken up he was about this.
Those where the internal sounds he fell asleep too. The external sound being the gentle exhausted breaths of his lover beside him.
Morning came with the sound of Dirk groaning from a headache and feeling nauseous but not sick. His voice sounded scratchy and tired, scratchy like every morning, tired like he’d ran a mile and just wanted to curl up asleep.
“Need anything?” Dave asked rolling over, his voice heavy with the remaining sleep, “If you say ‘nothing’ when you are mumbling and groaning I’ll hit you.”
“No, I’m not. I’m fine just a headache. Tylonel from the cabinet in a bit when I get moving will fix it.” He muttered.
Dave rolled over and looked over at Dirk.
His arm was covering the amber eyes, the wig from yesterday was gone so his head shown, faint patches of fuzz reappearing from where the time between treatments was allowing it to grow back. If anything it made him look like a highschool freshie trying to grow a beard. Dave chuckled at the thought.
“Is my misery amusing?” Dirk asked moving one arm to look at Dave from behind his arm.
Dave snorted, “If only I could find it amusing. But no. It’s not.”
He rolled his eyes and closed them again.
“C’mon. Get up take your meds. The sooner that’s done the sooner you can eat and get dressed.” He said and nudged Dirk in the side.
Sticking out his tongue Dirk got up and went to get tylonol and the rest of his medince from the bathroom.
His phone rang off with the song ‘kill your heros’
‘No more destionation; no more pain. Just one more thing before I graduate; never let your fear decide your fate; I say you “kill your heros and fly fly, baby don’t cry, ‘cause everybody will die….’ Dave gives the song a dirty look before reaching over and turning off the stupid phone.
“You are a morbid fuck, “He calls to Dirk.
“It’s Ironic,” Is the only response he gives. He yawns and shuffles to get clean clothes.
“How, just yesterday you were saying ‘I’ll push daisies any way’.” He said and Dirk frowned.
He cleared his throat before speaking, “Can you blame me?” was all he said before taking the clothes he’d yanked off a hanger at random and turned around going back inside. The door shut behind him before Dave could speak.
Dave heard the water turn on and he knew he’d be waiting awhile.
(Ch. 3.)
