Dib, slamming Zim’s door open with half-empty bottle of whiskey in hand: Alright, fuckface, what’s the deal.
Zim, not even looking up from his work on the kitchen table: Good night to you too. It’s been a while. Glad you could find your way here on your own.
Dib, stumbling inside, slamming the door closed behind him: I’m here for answers and I’m not leaving until I get some!!
Zim, calmly tightening a screw on his machine: You’re not leaving until morning either way, if any of your other visits are to judge by.
Dib, holding onto the TV as he walks towards the kitchen, taking a moment to orient himself after his dramatic entry: What are you up to, Zim?!
Zim, frowning, giving his contraption a good look: Trying to prototype a new portable battery for use in future plans, the one I’ve got is becoming obsolete and I—
Dib, shaking his head vigorously: No! I don’t mean right now! What are you up to…in general?
Zim, chuckling: Well, if I told you my plan now it’d ruin the surprise for this weekend.
Dib, rubbing his temples, stumbling over to the couch as he gives up on trying to get to the kitchen: Why always the weekend?
Zim, leaving his work and heading to the fridge, grabbing a single pizza slice from a ziplock bag in the freezer and searching for a plate: You’re busy the rest of the week. It’s not fun to try and take over the world if you’re not there to stop me.
Dib, closing his eyes, feeling his head spin: Why are you doing this? And… Stop… don’t play dumb with me! You know what I mean!
Zim, finding a plate and placing the pizza slice on it, sticking it into the microwave and punching in some numbers: Enlighten me, human.
Dib, sighing, trying to sink into the couch: The… food. The l-lunches. You’ve been bringing them every day for… I… Just… Why??
Zim, staring at the pizza slowly rotating inside the microwave: You really wanna know? You wanna know the truth?
Dib, scoffing: You’re not gonna tell me.
Zim, squinting at him: I could tell you. I could tell you everything.
Dib, shaking his head, eyes still closed: You could. But you’re not gonna. You’ll just lie to my face like always.
Zim, feeling a ball of rage build inside of him: Why do you assume everything Zim has to say is a lie?!
Dib, looking at him with anger and exasperation: Because that’s what you do, Zim! You lie and you deceive, you do it with your traps and with your plans, and you trick every person you meet into believing you’re human! And it works, for some fucked up reason!! Why does it work?! Why does it keep working?!
Zim, lips tight in a grimace: It works because Zim’s disguise is flawless, obviously, but really what choice do I have in that? If I don’t disguise myself I’m gonna get spotted as an alien and taken away!
Dib, feeling drained after the exertion of his previous screaming, trying to bring his bottle to his lips but forgetting to take the cap off: Fuck off, your disguise is terrible. It’s literally just a cheap wig and some lenses. You look way better without it anyways. *he sighs* And you’ll get spotted eventually either way. It’s just delaying the inevitable.
Zim, glancing at the pizza again, feeling himself blush at the backhanded compliment: It hasn’t happened yet.
Dib, trying to get the cap off his drink, accidentally screwing it tighter in and cursing silently: It will happen, I’ll make sure of it.
Zim, smirking: Oh yes, you of all humans will. With your credibility so far underground it’s gonna be hitting the Earth’s mantle soon. You’ve been tremendously successful at exposing me in the past, we all know that.
Dib, smiling, finally unscrewing the cap of his whiskey bottle: It’s just a matter of time. As long as I live I will keep trying. And since you seemed fixated on keeping me alive, this is basically a grave you’re digging for yourself. *He chuckles, taking a sip of alcohol* You’re not very bright, are you?
Zim, biting his lips: I’ll take my chances. Still don’t believe you can actually expose me.
Dib, feeling his body sag, eyes fixated on the ceiling: Why are you doing this, Zim? Why do you keep feeding me and… and… trying to care for me? *his voice sounds so tired*
Zim, taking the plate of hot pizza out of the microwave: Because I care about you. I don’t like to see you suffer needlessly.
Silence befalls them both. After a few moments Dib springs up, letting out a frustrated growl, clawing at his face with his hand. Pain is growing in his chest: THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT!! YOU DON’T EVEN TRY TO PRETEND YOU’RE NOT LYING!!
Zim just stands in the kitchen entrance, plate of pizza in hand, looking at him with beaten eyes. He listens to Dib throw curses at him for a good while, then watches him plonk down to the floor with his back against the couch, bottle forgotten on the side.
Zim, approaching slowly, leaving the plate beside Dib as he sits on the floor next to him: Are you done? Is the tantrum over, you baby man?
Dib scoffs, glancing at the slice of pizza: Fuck you. *he grabs it and takes a bite*
Zim chuckles, smiling as he watches Dib hum with pleasure at the taste of the pizza: What’s the point of telling a lie, Dib? What’s the point of telling the truth? To you it’s all the same. Whatever I say has no weight on what you decide to believe.
Dib grunts, hurrying to swallow so he can respond: It’d at least give me a clue. I have many already. I kno… know you don’t poison it. But there’s something on them, they make my stomach ache afterwards.
Zim frowns: They do? Huh. Maybe I shouldn’t have gone with such big portions, your body doesn’t seem to be used to so much food on the regular.
Dib stops, pizza slice almost up to his mouth: You’re telling me it’s…. it’s just that I… ughh!
Zim, shrugging: Could be, or I could be poisoning it after all. I could be poisoning all the food I give you.
Dib glances at the pizza slice, before just stuffing his mouth with it: Mhnm. Don’t think so. Don’t think that’s any of it. Don’t believe in your stupid, cheap, low blow lies either.
Zim: Then coming here for answers was a futile venture, human.
Dib, sighing: I… I know.
They remain in silence for a while, Dib idly licking his fingers clean, Zim glancing at the TV.
Dib, eyes downcast, after a long moment of silence: How can I… repay you?
Zim, eyebrows way up, looking at him with surprise painted all over his face: You… You already did? You left me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on the windowsill the other day, remember? It had a note from you, so I know it was payment. You already paid for this.
Dib, scoffing again: That’s not enough! I only… That was all I could think to give you, all I could afford. I need to do more!
Zim, voice tired: You really don’t—
Dib, angry: Yes I do!! I’m not letting you be the bigger…bigger…person on this! I’m not letting you humiliate me like this! Bringing those tenderly packaged lunchboxes with healthy food all so nicely arranged and wrapped in those…those… I’m not letting you get away with this!
Zim, antennae dropping: You think what I’m doing is… trying to humiliate you?
Dib, noticing his change of mood, suddenly afraid that he’s giving Zim ideas: What I mean is…that sandwich I made for you is nothing.
Zim, trying to push his inner confusion and struggle down for the moment: It wasn’t nothing. It was nice. I liked it a lot.
Dib, biting his lips, trying his hardest not to break down at Zim telling him he likes something he made: It’s nothing compared to what you’ve been doing. I won’t be bested at this, Zim, not by you. I refuse to be in debt to you.
Zim, internally forsaking his rivalry with Dib like he’s never done before: Well, you’ve known me for over fifteen years. I’m sure you can come up with something to give me that I would like.
Dib, frustrated: I… I can do more sandwiches, but I only have so much bread left, it’s not enough. Not… not gonna give you any information about human stuff, that’s for sure.
Zim, smirking: I don’t need you to be my informant, I know now how to learn human stuff on my own.
Dib, nodding still: Right, right. S-sweets? I don’t have money to spend on those. I could…pawn something I guess….but you’ve been doing this for me…for weeks now… If I’m.. if I’m ever gonna catch up it needs to be something big.
Zim, getting suddenly up with an idea that makes his blood run hot: If you really wanna repay your “debt,” there is one thing you can do for Zim…
Dib, taken by surprise: W… Wh-what Is it?
Zim walks over to Dib’s side and simply plops down belly first into his lap, making Dib jolt a little in surprise.
Dib, tense: What the fuck.
Zim, smirking, looking at him sideways: I want you to massage Zim’s magnificent back. Thoroughly.
Dib, dead silent for a few seconds, looking at Zim’s face and then his back:… Seriously?
Zim, tucking his arms under his chin: Seriously. I spend a lot of time hunched over my machines, putting them together and making repairs, working very hard on my plans to take over Earth. Every time you defeat me, it’s another seven days that I have to work real hard. I’ve been doing this for a long time, and a lot of knots have accumulated there. I’m in dire need of a good massage.
Dib, shivering at the feeling of Zim’s hot body lying over his lap like this: Uhm… doesn’t… doesn’t your PAK take care of all your health stuff?
Zim, trying to hold back the smile as he watches Dib’s face grow redder and redder: The PAK heals wounds and prevents infections from outside pathogens, but sore muscles don’t damage my body enough for the PAK to waste resources or time trying to fix them.
Dib, daring to lay a single hand flat on Zim’s back: Can’t… can’t Gir do this for you?
Zim, shivering at the contact: Gir? He’s way too rough and easily distracted for this. I’d risk him breaking my spine by accident, or him forgetting what he was doing in the middle of it. I need a living creature with enough dexterity and control over their fingers not to injure me further, and who’s able to focus for long enough to relieve my knots. You fit the bill pretty well.
Dib bit his lips, his eyes scanning over the entirety of Zim’s back up and down, trying not t stare at his ass for very long: I’m… I’m not… I don’t have much experience doing massages.
Zim closed his eyes, tiny smile firmly in place: I wasn’t expecting you to. It’s alright, you’ll have plenty of time to learn now that you’ll be doing this for me every night you come here.
Dib breathed out a barely disguised needy sigh as he begins tracing the shape of Zim’s back from his shoulders to his hips, softly first, carefully exploring the space: Every day I come here? That’s not… You bring me food every day of the week, it’s not the same…
Zim hummed at the feeling, antennae vibrating: Then you better start coming more often. *He sighs as Dib starts applying some pressure* If it makes you feel any better, think about how you can get food from other places, you just can’t afford to right now. You don’t strictly need me to bring you meals. But you are the only one on this planet who can do this for me. That’s worth something.
Dib thinks about it, feeling his heart race: I…suppose…
Zim, moving his shoulders a bit: Both hands, please. You have two hands, human, use them.
Dib, jolting a little: Oh! Sorry. *He brings his other hand to work on Zim’s back now, noticing how easy it is for him to cover the space. His hands are so big on Zim’s small frame… and he risks losing himself in these thoughts now.*
Zim, letting out an audible sigh of pleasure as both of Dib’s hands begin to roam his back: Ahhh, that’s it. You can apply a bit more pressure. I’m not brittle, you don’t have to be so careful.
Dib shudders, realizing now he has mostly been giving Zim’s back a very intense petting: Right, right. *He begins applying a bit of pressure with the fingertips* Your… PAK gets in the way…
Zim hums louder: Work around it, genius.
Dib grumbles under his breath, but complies. Slowly he works, finding knots of muscle here and there, doing his best to rub them loose. After just a few minutes, Zim has become completely relaxed in his lap, body limp and eyes closed, antennae twitching every so often. The only signs he gives of still being awake are the tiny humming sounds he makes, and the huge smile plastered on his face. Dib can’t help but smile too, feeling dizzy, with a strange warmth growing inside him.
Dib, focusing a bit on the shoulders, hearing Zim’s noises growing louder: Was this your plan all along? To get me in your debt so I’d do this for you?
Zim only responds with a “hnnn.” Dib frowns, but still smiles: This is kinda humiliating also. I’m starting to think this was your plan, after all.
Zim chuckles, then lets out a moan as Dib undoes a tough knot right on his shoulder. Dib feels himself blush deep. The moans keep coming, alongside tiny chirps, as Dib releases more knots.
Dib, tense, starting to have a hard time fighting back his arousal: Do you have to make those loud noises?
Zim, without so much as opening his eyes: If they bother you, just cover your ears.
Dib, offended: I can’t, my hands are busy!
Zim, giggling at his tone of voice: Oh, what a shame.
Dib, huffing: You dick!
Zim, who’s actively been trying to keep his spear from springing out this whole time: Stop complaining, the noises mean you’re doing a good job.
Dib, eyebrows raised: I…am?
Zim nods, smile still big: Yep, very good. I knew you’d be good at this.
Dib just smiles, wide, focusing again on his work. It takes another half an hour before Zim is satisfied.
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c:<
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