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It had been three days since Dib confessed his love for Zim, and in that time, he had learned only one thing: that Zim was desperately touch-starved. It was fine in private - better than fine, really, it was glorious and enchanting and downright sexy at times. In public, however, it was becoming somewhat of a problem. Zim had started fairly small, with things like holding hands at the table in the very back of the chemistry lab or at lunch, or short hugs in the hallways between classes. Those were fine, if maybe a tad embarrassing. Dib had noted a significant uptick in whispered comments and rumors about himself and Zim, even a few slurs that inspired righteous anger inside him. Even those were tolerable, though. The current situation, on the other hand, was possibly enough to get them expelled - and with only 2 weeks until final exams and graduation.
Things had started off innocently enough, and Dib wasn't entirely sure where they had gone wrong. Maybe it was the first time Zim had slipped a hand underneath his shirt. Or it could've been when Zita shouted something about Zim and Dib fooling around right in the middle of the cafeteria, oh my God, what are those freaks doing? Either way, they had gone catastrophically bad, and Dib now had an alien bug pressed against his skin, hiding under his shirt, and everyone in the room was staring at them.
So of course Zim made it worse by actually hissing at the vice principal when he came by to see what all the commotion was about. Dib was nearly frozen with panic and deepening dread, but after a brief struggle he finally succeeded in prying Zim off and out of his clothes. Even with the extra room Dib liked in his shirts, Zim had stretched it out and probably ruined it - but that was the least of his worries. The vice principal was yelling and ordering them straight to the principal's office; Zim was making grunts of discontent and shooting wide-eyed looks of equal parts hurt and disbelief at Dib.
Zim ultimately did rise to his feet and started following the gangly vice principal (who was ranting about how the two of them obviously needed an escort) and after a moment, Dib followed unsteadily. They were led through the halls to the set of administrative offices at the front of the building. Once inside the waiting area, the vice principal instructed them to sit in the uncomfortable chairs lining the walls. Zim huffed, but did as he was told; Dib nodded and murmured "Yes sir," and took the seat next to Zim. This earned a glare from the vice principal, but the man turned on his heel and left, stepping into the principal's office.
Dib could just make out the raised voices behind the closed door, but wasn't able to distinguish any words. That was probably for the best - he had a sinking suspicion that the vice principal was homophobic, as strong as his ire had been. Zim had his arms folded, his leg was bouncing, and he looked absolutely sullen. Dib tried to care about it, but was too apprehensive about getting in trouble for his concern for Zim to stick. After a few moments, the voices died down and the vice principal stalked out of the room and shut himself in the office next door. Then the principal appeared, and she beckoned towards Zim and Dib. "You two," she said. "Step into the office so we can have a talk." Zim got up first, stomping his way through the open door of the principal's office. Dib followed with soft and careful steps, trying to give off the exact opposite mood that Zim was portraying. Everything about Zim said defiance and threat. Dib, on the other hand, seemed to be saying without words, "I'm just a delicate little flower, please don't hurt me."
The chairs in the principal's office were a lot more comfortable. That was the only upside of the entire ordeal. For a while, they sat in silence - the principal behind her desk, Zim and Dib sitting in the chairs facing her. Then the principal sighed and leaned forward. She was a short, thin woman with dark hair and bright eyes. Dib was struck with the impression that she was too young for the job. But then she spoke, and ruined that impression with the well-practiced tone of authority. "So, do you boys want to explain what happened?"
Zim pointed at Dib. "It's his fault." You fucking traitor, Dib thought. Dib started to protest, but the principal shook her head and cut him off.
"I'm not interested in assigning blame." Zim settled back in the chair, folding his arms tightly over his chest again. Dib remained silent, but he wrung his hands nervously in his lap. The principal sighed again. "Look. Now, I know you boys are seniors, and you've probably got a bad case of senioritis." (Zim muttered something under his breath about not being sick.) "But there are some things that just aren't appropriate in an educational environment. Zim, I know that things might be different in your country of origin, and Dib, I realize that you have… special needs." Dib felt himself flush with shame and anger, he could feel his cheeks pricking with heat and his jaw clenching. The principal continued as though she didn't notice. "But really, that's not an excuse. You should both know by now that physical contact does not belong in our skools." She stood then, and gave the pair of them an appraising look. "Save it for outside of skool hours, because next time you'll be in big trouble. Please?" Suddenly the woman was too young again, maybe only a decade and change older than Dib. "It's less than two weeks. Just… don't make a scene again. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am," Dib answered, but Zim only glowered. Dib tried to kick at him, or stomp on his foot, but only succeeded in barely brushing Zim's leg with his boot.
"Zim agrees," he finally said in a voice that said he absolutely didn't, and that he dared anyone to call him out on it.
The principal ignored Zim's tone, and said with forced cheerfulness, "Great! Now that's settled, you two should get back to class. We're already in fifth period. Just remember, no touching on campus. Go on now!" Having been dismissed, Zim stood with his head held high, like some snooty kid. Dib was still playing his opposite, but less deliberately this time. He looked at his shoes and trudged out of the room. They had barely made it into the main hallway when Zim tried to break the rule that had just been set. Dib jumped when he felt Zim grab his hand, and he pulled away, just out of reach.
Zim pouted. "Stupid humans and their social mores, and now you won't even touch me, the incredible Zim!" His voice was quiet, but it resonated with seething emotion. "If those fools hadn't started laughing and yelling…" Zim kicked his foot out at nothing in particular, then fell quiet, as if he were considering something. After a moment, he said, matter-of-fact, "She said something… she called you…" It seemed like he was trying to avoid the phrase directly. "It made you mad."
"Can't," Dib replied, and he meant 'I can't do this now, I can't think about it or feel it now.' That went unsaid. He clenched and unclenched his fist a few times, took a deep breath and sighed explosively. "After skool, yeah?"
Zim didn't want to agree, wanted to talk now and figure out the problem so he could solve it. But Dib looked, well, fragile. At length, Zim just asked, "My place or yours?"
"Don't care." They reached a junction in the halls, and Dib gestured down the left fork with his thumb. "Honors English is this way. See you." Zim watched as he went down the hallway and disappeared into a room in the middle of the corridor. That wasn't good. Not good at all, Zim thought. Dib was usually verbose, sometimes even annoyingly so. Not all terse and laconic and dejected and… It was profoundly frustrating for Zim. It made him want to destroy something, or possibly doom some of the expendable humans there at the skool.
Zim didn't go to class - calculus was far beneath him, anyway - and instead went into a bathroom and sequestered himself in a stall. He pulled out a small tablet from his PAK, logged in, and started to consult OuterVista.
(The defunct AltaVista, it turned out, was actually the Earth-side version of OuterVista, the intergalactic search engine. It was all well-documented on Encyclopedia Galactica. The plan had been to first make its services invaluable to the human race, then slowly take over with mind-control technology and propaganda. Sadly, it hadn't been properly monetized, and the plan failed. It was shocking how often this kind of thing happened on Earth.)
By the time the next bell rang, Zim had a clear idea of what exactly was wrong with the phrase "special needs". He also had the beginnings of a plan to present Dib with the principal's head on a spike - that would be an excellent courting gift. He put away his research and hurried out of the bathroom so that he wouldn't be late for drama class. It was secretly his favorite subject; Zim did have a flair for the dramatic as well as an ego the size of a small planet. He pushed all his worries and anger away and threw himself into the study of the technical aspects of play production.
When skool finally ended and Zim met Dib out front, Zim realized that he maybe should have pushed the issue. He certainly regretted the decision to actually participate in class rather than do something productive. He wasn't sure exactly what he would have or should have done, but he knew he should've done something at least. Dib looked… terrible, Zim ultimately and unhappily decided. All out of sorts and vaguely miserable. He even seemed smaller somehow, but Zim was pretty sure that was only a trick of his mind. Still, he surreptitiously summoned a visual overlay and measured Dib's height. Still exactly 179 centimeters. But everything else about Zim's assessment remained.
Zim, naturally, was the first to speak. "You look terrible."
"Wow, thanks."
"I didn't mean it like that," Zim said quickly. "More like… you look… like you feel terrible." It might've even been an understatement. Zim was mildly surprised when Dib actually chuckled under his breath.
"Not feeling much of anything, actually," he said, completely void of mirth, or any readily discernible emotion. "Maybe tired? Dunno. I just want to go home."
Zim nodded. "Good idea. GIR won't bother us that way." Dib just sighed a little and started walking in the direction of his house. Zim got the distinct feeling that Dib was holding something back, but he wasn't sure how to bring it up. He just followed Dib, wordlessly, eventually linking arms with Dib after they were safely out of sight. Gaz was apparently getting a ride from one of her friends, so she didn't join them on their walk. That was fine, even good - she almost certainly would have commented on their silence. Even Zim didn't really like it, but he didn't want to do or say anything to further damage Dib's psyche. So they stayed quiet the whole walk to Dib's house and even up to Dib's room.
Zim ended up standing in the middle of the room, feeling thoroughly uncomfortable, as Dib sank onto his bed, grabbed a pillow and screamed into it. After too long Dib finally stopped screaming, but he kept the pillow to his face. "Fuck fuck fuck everything," he said, voice muffled. Zim removed his wig to free his antennae so that he could hear better. Dib continued to ramble a bit. "Fuck the principals and all the stupid fucking rules that they don't even apply fairly, and fuck Zita, and fuck those goddamn stupid fucking euphemisms and everyone, and everything." Then he did something Zim didn't anticipate at all and threw the pillow at Zim's face. It didn't really hurt, but Zim still felt deeply offended. "Fuck you too, Zim, you can be such an asshole."
"What did Zim do?!"
"Oh my GOD." Dib looked like he was going to throw something, and heavier this time. He ended up just grabbing another pillow and covering his face again. Zim could hear him inhale, hold his breath for a short moment, and exhale slowly. "First you decide to share my shirt, my shirt I liked, and when we get in trouble you immediately tried to pin it all on me." He was muffled again, but Zim could hear him clearly enough. He almost wished he hadn't.
"...I panicked," Zim admitted reluctantly. "All those horrible teenagers… and how was I supposed to know that was considered inappropriate? Your kind seems to have a lot of double standards." Dib groaned in response. "As for blaming you, well. I did. It was instinct."
"You're still an ass."
"ZIM IS NO ASS!" He couldn't help but shout, even knowing that elevated voices probably wouldn't feel great for Dib. After a second, Zim forced himself to calm and decided to sit in Dib's desk chair. "I'm sor… ssss… sorruh. Sor-rrrr." He coughed, and Dib actually peeked at him from behind his pillow. "It gets stuck in my throat," Zim explained. "I'm… sorry. Hey, I did it!"
"Good job," said Dib, and though the words were sarcastic, his tone wasn't. Zim smirked at what he perceived as praise. "I've never heard you actually apologize for anything before. But I'm still… angry. You probably don't deserve it, but I am."
"I don't deserve it," Zim confirmed. "It's that wretched woman! Who, as you so delicately put it, used 'those goddamn stupid fucking euphemisms.' She's to blame, and I'm going to kill her."
"Murders are bad, Zim," Dib said, muffled by the pillow again. He sounded tired. "Please don't."
"But she's so eminently deserving," Zim whined. Dib answered him with yet another groan. "Fine, fine," Zim agreed unwillingly, and the two of them fell silent for a few moments.
Just as Dib was starting to slip into a fitful sleep, Zim spoke again, quiet and serious. "You're ow-tistic, aren't you?"
"It's autistic. But, yes. How do you know about that?"
Zim ignored the question, waving it away with his hand. "Were you ever forced to participate in this so-called Applied Behavioral Analysis?"
This got Dib to move the pillow finally, and sit up. "ABA? Ew, thank God no. I mean, not formally, anyway."
"That's good." Zim paused to weigh his next words carefully. "You likely would have resisted. What would have happened then? What would they have done to you next?"
Dib scowled, and said, "Probably drugs? That's usually what happens. What are you getting at?" He was looking at Zim with an odd expression, something like worry or unease.
"Irken society is basically the pinnacle of ABA. But instead of drugs, they get inside you." Zim curled his legs to his chest. He paused again, hugged his legs, and closed his eyes. Dib was getting ready to stand up and go to him when Zim finally shuddered and opened his eyes again. He looked funny with his contacts in and the wig off, but he also looked sad and tortured, and it ruined any amusement Dib could have gotten. "I've been cut off for years now, but I can still feel it. Hear them, sometimes."
"Them?" Dib asked gently, though he already suspected he knew.
"The Control Brains," Zim said, verifying Dib's suspicions. "They…" The small Irken shuddered again and shook his head. "They run Irken society. Make decisions for the Empire. Punish the aberrant, and the… defective." The last word was whispered, and Dib suddenly realized exactly how hard this conversation must be for Zim. He didn't wholly understand what Zim's point was, but it was clearly important and difficult and deeply personal. Dib stood up and crossed the room, ending up kind of hovering over Zim. Dib put a hand on Zim's shoulder.
"You're shaking," Dib commented, absolutely worried now.
Zim tried to reassure him. "It will pass." Dib only looked more troubled, if anything. After a second, Dib shifted his position and scooped Zim into his arms. Zim's arms automatically came up and around Dib's neck, seeking stability. Dib carried him, bridal style, to the bed, where he sat down carefully and deposited Zim onto his lap. Zim was still clinging, still shaking, but he cuddled up closer and leaned against Dib. They stayed silent for a while, but the shaking worsened, reaching a crescendo.
Dib really didn't know what to do, or how to make Zim feel better. He made a clumsy but honest attempt, guessing at what was happening in Zim's mind. "They aren't here," he said softly. "They can't hurt you anymore. I'm here, yeah? You're okay."
Zim shook his head and tried to control his body, but it didn't seem to want to cooperate. "It's, it's not… not that." He found it hard to talk, but he refused to surrender. He did take a few seconds of closed-eye deep breathing, and slowly gained a little more mastery of his rebelling limbs. Zim's speech was also less halting when he spoke next. "Well, that is it, but that's not the point. This is about you." He poked a finger into Dib's chest to accentuate his point.
"How is this about me?" Dib asked, confused. Then, as an aside, "That kinda hurt, you're gonna give me a bruise."
Zim ignored the latter comment. "It's about both of us. How I decided to never live like that again, and how difficult that is. How you should demand better, and destroy those who would control or infantilize you."
"If you're trying to talk me into murder, I'm still against it," Dib said, but it was teasing and good-natured. He even punctuated it with a kiss on Zim's head, right between his antennae, making the little bug squirm again in his lap. Dib was pleased with how well that worked.
"Zim is being serious, Dib-thing." But his shaking had completely died away, and he let out a tiny sigh of contentment. After a moment of just enjoying the closeness, Zim continued. "You should be proud of yourself, all of yourself. After all, you did manage to win the affections of the amazing me. Those who underestimate you are making a terrible, abysmal mistake."
Dib blushed, a bashful smile on his face. "I'll try. But I'm really proud of you." Zim had moved away a little bit to look at Dib. "Really. You're really strong, and you deserved better, too. And… if I can help make it any easier, just… let me know, okay?"
Zim pressed himself against Dib again, and he stayed there for a while, before saying so quietly that Dib had to strain to hear, "You make it easier." It made Dib feel warm inside, and he rewarded Zim with another kiss. Then Dib put his arms around Zim, making sure he was secured, and gingerly shifted position until he was lying on the bed with Zim curled on his torso and safe in his embrace.
They stayed that way for a while, Zim listening to his human bondmate breathing, and Dib being enchanted by the way he could feel Zim's body working. Irkens didn't have a heart, exactly, not like a human one anyway - but Dib still detected a soft beating somewhere in Zim's chest. It was absolutely mesmerizing and immensely relaxing. After a few moments, Dib closed his eyes and his breathing slowed, and before he knew it was happening, he had fallen into a light sleep.
Zim realized by the way Dib's breathing and heartbeat slowed that he was likely falling asleep. Dib seemed so peaceful that Zim didn't really want to disturb him. But there was still a fair amount of anxiety clouding Zim's mind that drove his next actions. "Dib?" he whispered. Then, a little louder, "Dib."
"Hmm?" His voice was sleepy and quiet, and it made Zim feel tranquil.
"Are you still mad?"
"Nah. Not really." Dib seemed to be waking up a little more. "Maybe later? I might have some delayed emotional processing. Can never really tell. But not right now."
Zim hesitated for a second, but then asked, "And you're not going to… leave Zim?"
"What? Of course not." Dib tightened his embrace. "I love you." He longed to hear Zim say it back, to say that he loved Dib, too. But Zim only responded in the same way he always had thus far; he repositioned himself so that his face was level with Dib's and rewarded the human with a kiss on the lips.
This one was probably the most passionate yet, and it seemed to last much longer than any other. Truthfully, Zim was putting all his feelings into the kiss, trying to rid himself of the urge to admit that he did love Dib, trying to say it with his whole mouth without using speech. It wasn't time yet, and he had plans. Dib gave a throaty moan, and Zim started nibbling lightly on his lower lip with sharp teeth. It made Dib's brain short out for a second, and he unwillingly pulled away from the kiss. "Hold on," Dib panted, trying to control his sudden arousal. "I need a breather."
"Zim has stolen your breath? Good." Zim nuzzled his face into the space between Dib's neck and shoulder. "Everything of you belongs to me." Dib wondered what exactly in his psychology made Zim's possessiveness so sexy and appealing, but he wanted to broach the whole 'sex' thing with Zim carefully; throwing caution to the wind and trying to escalate just because he was horny would probably end in tears.
So after a few seconds of concentration, Dib mustered up the wherewithal to say, "Hey, I'm actually pretty tired. Can I take a quick nap? And yeah, yeah, I'm all yours, bug boy."
"Not a bug," Zim retorted, but there was no heat behind it. "Take your nap." But Zim stayed where he was and gave Dib several small kisses on his neck.
"Ziiiim. I can't sleep like that." Not to mention that it might drive him crazy.
"Hmm. That does sound like a problem." Zim finished off with one more kiss, but then moved back to resting on Dib's upper body, content to actually let him sleep. It only took a few silent moments for Dib to fall asleep once more, cuddling Zim protectively and lovingly. Zim even let himself close his eyes and deliberately slow his breathing, but he didn't slip into sleep. He just laid there, trying to absorb all the peace of the moment.
By the time Dib woke up, the sun was setting, and Zim had gone, had slipped out of his arms and out of the house. Dib made his way downstairs, just in case Zim had gone down to the living room, but only Gaz was there. "Did you see Zim?" he asked.
"Yeah, about an hour ago," she confirmed. "He actually growled at me, can you believe that? He growled at me."
"Of course I can believe that. He's a moron."
"Takes one to love one," Gaz said, nodding in agreement. Then she actually looked away from the television, glanced over at Dib. "You look rough," she commented, then a wicked grin spread over her face. "Did y'all finally bang?"
"Gaz!" Dib scolded. "Gross, you're my sister, why would I tell you?!"
"Because I'm your sister," she replied evenly. "You'll tell me, no matter how gross it is."
"Ew."
Gaz just shrugged. "Dinner's in, like, half an hour. And I heard that your lunch got interrupted, so don't tell me that you're not hungry." Dib had been about to say exactly that. "You have to eat food, dummy." Dib just mumbled something, but before he left the room he crossed over to the couch and gave Gaz a kiss on the cheek.
"Love you too, sis." Gaz pushed him away and made a sound of disgust, but she was smiling.
***
The next day at skool, just before classes started, the principal gave an announcement over the intercom. She said that, starting immediately, she was taking a sabbatical from education, and was going to find a wet log, hollow it out and live inside for a period of at least one year. Zim looked exceptionally pleased with himself. Dib had noticed something odd immediately - the principal sounded drugged or possibly worse.
Dib elbowed Zim in the… well, in the firm bit of cartilage that functioned as ribs. "What did you do?" he whispered furiously.
"Brain slug," Zim responded plainly, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, as if Dib knew what that was, just loud enough for Dib to hear. When Dib looked at him incredulously, he only shrugged a bit. "Principals that use words like that don't deserve free will. Besides, she'll be happy. She's one of the slug hivemind now."
And as fucked up as it was, as much as he wanted to tell Zim off, Dib couldn't help but take it as a romantic gesture.