i want to take a nap

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dirk being jealous of john 
because he has dave
because dirk wants dave
because he's always wanted dave
because dave was his to begin with
because dave has all those stupid freckles
because when he blushes it makes dirk's insides twist
and because oh god why cant dave blush like for him???
it makes him sick to see them together 
or to hear dave talking about john
when he sees john at school it's all he can do to not beat him within an inch of his life
he knows it's wrong and he beats himself up over it
it's weird
it's gross
it's bad
but he can't get rid of these thoughts and these feelings no matter what he tries
so all he can do is burn up inside

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It's a mercilessly hot afternoon, the sun is on your back, and you're already soaked in your own sweat. Dirk is relentless, he's been going after you, pressing you into corners, almost pushing you off the roof once or twice. You can feel a stinging and a warm wetness from a small cut on your face, and a dull, steady throb from a much deeper one on your side. You haven't been able to land one single hit today, which isn't totally unheard of, but pretty unusual. 
Suddenly, your back is against a wall and his sword is an inch from your throat, and you're barely holding it back, and he's pushing you back with his hips then, suddenly, his grip releases, and you're able to push back on him, and he fumbles and falls back, and you pin him down with your knees, and now it's your sword at his throat. 
He's breathing hard, looks like he's sweating even harder than you. You think about getting in one cut before going back inside, but it's hot out and owowow, your side is really starting to hurt, and you grab at the cut with one hand and find that it's bleeding a lot more than you thought, and you lean backward, lifting your knees to let Dirk free, and drop your sword off to the side, suddenly dizzy.
Dirk swears and sits up. He leans toward you hurriedly. "Let me see," he demands.
You lift your hand, which you notice is shaking pretty badly--jeez, Dave, stop being a wimp, you think to yourself--and reveal the cut to your brother.
You can hear the sharp intake of breath, another quiet swear. "Let's go back in. Get you patched up, ok?" 
You turn your head to look--"Better not," Dirk warns. He stands up, leaving his sword next to yours, and then grabs your arm to hoist you up. 
"You're lame at stitching stuff up," you tell him, as he starts to guide you downstairs. Your voice sounds kind of far away, and your vision is staring to sparkle bright blue and black. You know that isn't good, and you stumble on a stair and almost pitch forward and crack your head--thank god for Dirk, catching you before you could.
"You're looking a little pale," he observes, shifting you so that he can take your weight and help you walk. He sounds far away too, sort of like you're talking on the phone with a terrible connection.
"I always look a little pale," you mumble.
"You eat any breakfast?"
"Uh," you try to remember. "No."
"Dinner last night?"
Everything is black around the edges, and the sparkles aren't going away, no matter how much you blink. "No," you reply again.
You're suddenly at the bottom of the stairs, in the living room. Dirk deposits you on the couch. "Try not to stain the cushions too bad," he instructs, disappearing for a moment. He comes back with a first aid kit and a bottle of apple juice. He tells you to take off your shirt and then drink the juice, and also to not pass out because then he would have to drive you to the hospital and Bro would not appreciate the bill.
You take off your shirt slowly, even though you're really really starting to feel like you're about to pass out, and then you drink the apple juice (your hand shakes and you spill some on your bare chest, which is a huge embarrassment, but Dirk doesn't acknowledge it). As you drink the juice, Dirk kneels in front of you and starts to clean you up with a damp cloth, which you weren't even aware he had, but it feels kind of nice. You're starting to feel a little less dizzy-sparkly-pass-out-y, which is also kind of nice. 
Dirk sets down the cloth on the table, and gets right to work on stitching you up. It hurts, sure, but you're a Strider, and you're tough enough to deal with it. 
Finally, he tapes some gauze over the wound. "We're done here," he announces. "You good?"
"I'm good," you answer, leaning your head back against the couch. 
"Still lookin' a little pale," he observes as he cleans up all the first aid stuff. "Go eat something."
"Ghgng," you reply, because getting up to get food seems wholly unappealing right now.
Dirk slaps your injured side, which hurts, and tells you to do as you're told, soldier. 
You tell him to do some rather nasty things with his sword.
In the end, he brings you some cold pizza and lets you pick something to watch on TV. 
Dirk is seriously weird sometimes, you think to yourself, letting out a soft, content sigh. You're curled up on the couch, your head inches from your brother's lap, and he's being so nice to you right after he relentlessly attacked you with a katana. You really wouldn't have it any other way.

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TLR

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"xXDawnie" wrote:

TLR

thank u for your relevant input 

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originally the above story was going to be dirk getting nervous about dave being shirtless and not wanting to stitch him up or anything and then bro having to stitch him up and being mad about it cause he's "busy working to make a living and feed you two ungrateful garbage sacks"
but then that didnt happen i guess

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i have like one thousand five hundred fifty-something words down for a story im working on but it stiLL ISNT A CHAPTER, 
huffs loudly b/c ive never made a chapter this long before 

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[posts cos he did read and enjoy about Dirk and Dave and there was 666 posts in the thread]


[ello Buttons ] 

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"hugebear" wrote:

[posts cos he did read and enjoy about Dirk and Dave and there was 666 posts in the thread]



[ello Buttons ] 

hiya huge

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i found a solid smoothie in my freezer and so now im going to eat it

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