So Many Striders - Now With Illustrations!

Hal... totally forgot to get them any food more substantial than snacks. Whoops. "We sort of ate, but we could definitely eat more. Probably should definitely eat more, too. There anything in particular you'd like right now?"

 

"Um. Nah. I had planned on making mac 'n cheese since we're out of left overs, but I think there might be a frozen pizza left? I dunno. I'm cool with anything. Or not eating really. Not actually hungry." Hal's disappointment when Dirk stopped petting his hair makes total sense now. Asking for things outright for himself is hard though. Instead he scoots his head more into Hal's lap, so that it's resting on his leg, and hopes.

 

Oh, right, hair petting. Hal moves his hand back to Dirk's head. "Not eating probably isn't a good idea, we've been burning calories and I don't wanna make Davepeta have to hobble all the way over here to beat us up for not eating right. I can go hunt for something or other to cook."

 

"Mm. Okay." Dirk remains comfortable where he is, being pat.

 

Hal cards his fingers through Dirk's hair a couple more times, then slips his hand under Dirk's head and scoots away to the side, lowering his head down onto the bed. "Okay, I'll be right back. Don't go to sleep while I'm out of the room."

 

Dirk grumbles about being moved, and more about the cessation of pets, but obediently pushes himself upright to sit against some pillows. Not being allowed to do things is awful. Being left alone is also kind of awful, but somehow a relief at the same time. Making out with Hal, huh? That's kind of... But he almost died. But Dirk liked it a lot. But his emotions are all fucked up right now. But Hal has a really cute bu-. No. That's a bad train of thought at the moment. Dirk spends a few minutes being unable to process everything that just happened before giving it up as a bad job. Making is way to the bathroom seems like a better plan.

He is much steadier on his feet this time, which is good since he really didn't want to call Hal back in here to escort him to the toilet. The short walk between his room and the bathroom goes fine, though he is on the lookout for sudden dizziness spells since head injuries stack apparently. Post using the bathroom operations turn out to be a bit unpleasant, as the inside of his pants proved to be, urgh, stickier than he'd anticipated and putting them back on like that is gross. Along those same lines, looking in the mirror also turns out to be a poor decision since the outright shameful state of his hair is not enough to distract him from the bite shaped bruise on his neck. He promises his frustrated libido a very long shower later and makes his way back to his room.

Changing into new pants is the priority, and thankfully pajamas won't seem suspicious. Why does being with someone have to be so desperately embarrassing? Human bodies are kind of disgusting. Dirk knocks his door somewhat closed out of habit, gathers fresh underthings and pj's, and gratefully strips out of his workout pants. It sucks that Hal is so freaked out by talking about his shades, he really wishes he knew what had happened to them. He'd almost be more comfortable buck naked than wandering around without his shades.

 

The cessation of pets is necessary in order for Hal to go find and cook food. He leaves Dirk's bedroom to hunt through the fridge and freezer (and it broke his heart a little every time any of the Daves seemed surprised when they remembered there was food in either of those). Sure enough, there's a frozen pizza in the freezer, and he preps and microwaves a pot noodle while he waits for the oven to heat up. He can hear Dirk walking around, which is a good thing, and waits until he's back in his bedroom before heading to follow. The noodles will take five minutes and the pizza more like 20, so he should check which Dirk would like to have.

He opens the door to Dirk's room, which is closed for some reason, with a cheerful "Hey, so-" that abruptly cuts off at the sight of Dirk's pale, bare, and beautiful ass.

 

Halfway into clean boxers Hal surprises Dirk by coming back far sooner than he'd anticipated. Teetering on one leg while naked is not the best time to be surprised. Dirk yelps "WhaFUCK," stumbles against the dresser, and lets himself fall onto his ass. It's better than trying to catch himself and accidentally hitting his head again. He quickly pulls his legs up to his chest for modesty's sake, his boxers caught around one ankle. Is he in an anime? A bad hentai anime? Why is this his life? Falling was jarring for his head and the bruise gives a painful, dizzying throb. "Hal, I closed the door!" He meant to sound angry but it comes out more like a whine and he hates it.

Ha, turns out he was really wrong about the shades thing. This is much worse.

 

Hal squawks, and his instinct is to dart back out and close the door but Dirk just fell over and wow he is standing still way too long without looking away. He lifts a hand quickly to his eyes, then turns around so his back is to Dirk. Look, no peeking happening here. This is some full on anime shit, but at least it's more comedic than erotic with Dirk falling down like that. Not that the two are mutually exclusive. "Sorry! I wanted to check whether you wanted the pot noodles that're going to be ready soon or the pizza which will take a while, I didn't think you'd be changing or I wouldn't have, I mean, I'd have knocked and not come in and shit. I. Sorry. Again. Are you ok?"

 

Hal stands frozen for what feels like a significant amount of time, and Dirk barks "HAL!" just before he covers his eyes and turns of his own volition. "Fuckin' rude." Dirk very quickly pulls his boxers on while still sitting on the floor and gingerly clutches his head. "I'm fine? The bruise on my head isn't happy but I didn't hit it or anything so whatever." Slowly standing up seems to be a good idea, sudden changes in elevation are never good with headaches. Once standing he dons pajamas while answering Hal. "It doesn't really matter to me, I like pizza but if you have a preference go with that. Or we could share the pizza." Pants on, Dirk pulls on his clothes anxiously to make sure they're secure. "I'm decent now, you lech." It's funnier now that he's clothed, so Dirk smiles a bit while settling back in bed. He'd sit in his computer chair but the temptation to hop online would be too great.

 

Hal flinches slightly when Dirk shouts his name, shoulders pulling in closer to his body, but Dirk doesn't sound mad when he continues talking so it's okay. It was an accident after all. No deliberate machinations done here by anyone, no sir. He keeps his hand over his eyes even though he's turned away from Dirk, for maximum reassurance that he's not looking. He's glad Dirk didn't manage to hit his head again, and would like to help him with standing up because he can hear him moving around and he should still be careful about doing that, but he doesn't know if Dirk's dressed or not. And turning around to check sounds like a stunningly bad (if secretly tempting) idea. Dirk announces his successfully clothed status, and Hal turns around with a grin fixed in place, hand lowered and eyes open. "Lech is such a cruel word for it, I like peeping tom so much better. The noodles are already in and it's just an average single sized pizza, so I can eat the noodles and you the pizza. Sorting out who eats what is so complicated when there's two of us with mouths, and actual options other than fish and seagull eggs."

 

Hal seems slightly on edge, likely because Dirk yelled at him, but being a delicate flower can only go so far. Personal space is a thing. "Pizza sounds good. You wanna watch something while we eat? Or if you're getting tired of me I think I can stay awake another hour without supervision." Dirk doesn't actually want Hal to go, but feels like he should give him the option.

 

Hal is not a delicate flower, he's a badass and hardy flower, like a dandelion or something, and he is genuinely sorry about walking in on Dirk changing. He didn't even get to see anything, he was so surprised at how anime the situation was. "Yeah, watching a thing sounds good, so long as you're not offering that because you're actually getting tired of me hovering around. I'll stop the helicoptering soon, I swear."

 

"Nah, it's fine. I'm still, uh, disgustingly clingy feeling right now so... I don't know where I was going with that." To have something to do, Dirk reaches for his computer on the floor beside the bed and stops. "I'm still not allowed to read words on the screen. Right. I'll just wait here then." Helplessness is very frustrating. He grumpily arranges the pillows and blankets into a warm, comfortable nest and waits for pizza to happen at him.

 

Hal shrugs his shoulder, mouth twisted up in sympathy. "Sorry, bro. I'll come hang while it cooks, but the oven's probably hot enough to stick it in now. So." He tilts his head towards the door, backs out a couple of steps, then absconds to the kitchen. The pot noodle is ready, so he slurps down slightly-too-hot noodles while unpackaging the pizza, sticking it in the oven, and setting the timer. With half the noodles remaining, he walks back on through to Dirk's room, free hand held over his eyes both just in case and as a joke.

"Is it safe to look?"

 

Hal seems reluctant to leave, and Dirk feels bad for making him worry. It'd probably be better to keep his gross, illogical feelings to himself. Doing nothing and waiting on someone else feels awkward, but he refuses to drowse since brain damage doesn't seem like fun. It's only a couple of minutes before Hal pops back into the room.

"No, I've stripped and am lying seductively across a piano that magically appeared in the middle of the room. I hope you're here to feed me grapes." Dirk snuggles deeper into his warm snarl of blankets.

 

Hal was reluctant to leave, and it was because he was worrying, but he'd definitely prefer to know how Dirk is feeling than have to guess.

He snorts with laughter at the reply and lowers his hand, heading over to join Dirk on the bed because holy shit does that look inviting, a big old pile of blankets and pillows and messy-haired Dirk. He flops down beside Dirk, pulling his feet up to sit cross-legged and reaching across to rest his hand casually on the blanket mess that is Dirk Strider. "This is an interesting piano you have here, and as for grapes... I have noodles, does that count?"

 

Dirk curls toward Hal when he settles on the bed. "Please don't try and feed me dripping, scalding hot noodles. That would not end well. I might be persuaded to let you in on this blanket action though, as long as you promise not to dump ramen on my face."

 

"I solemnly swear not to dump ramen on your face." He pats Dirk on whatever part of him it is his hand's resting on - he thinks his side, but it might be a knee depending on how Dirk's limbs are arranged under the blankets - and tips the noodle pot towards his face to slurp disgustingly from it.

 

Gross slurping noises are not attractive. Dirk pulls the blanket up over his ear and half his face. "I dunno if I even want to eat... I'd rather just sleep man."