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“Alright, nookwhiffs.” Karkat bangs his fist down on the table. “Who’s volunteering to fill this festering shitstain of an Earth with disgusting new life forms?” He notes down Kanaya’s raised hand. “Who’s going to do urban planning?”
Dirk hangs out to the side. The less they let him be in charge of, the better. He’ll just wait to see who’s in charge of the tech and go help them out.
“...our chutedumping, inevitably virus-ridden communication network?”
Jade raises a hand. Dirk takes a step towards her.
Jake also raises his hands. “I’d like to help!”
Dirk takes a step back.
Dave is one of the last people to leave the meeting hall once duties have been handed out. He’s also the one who volunteered to take on urban planning. Dirk walks a bit faster to catch up with him. “Hey. Think you could use a hand?”
Dave turns to him and smiles. “Sure, yeah, hands are great. We’re like the Addams family with how on-board we are with disembodied limbs. We’re practically millipedes, except not for feet.”
Dirk waits for him to run out of steam before nodding and following behind Dave. It gives his heart rate a moment to stabilize. There. That wasn’t so hard, right?
Dirk isn’t an expert on urban planning or anything, but doing it with crayons doesn’t seem like the way to go. He’s shutting up about it, though, because Dave and the Mayor have a whole one-sided exchange going on.
“And the hospital – oh my God, dude, you’re so right, we have to have it more accessible than that. Do you think one floor is enough for now? Sure, half of us are god-tier, but who’s to say we can’t get sick?” Dave pauses. “Can god-tiers get sick?”
“No idea,” Dirk says, the first words to leave his mouth since they got here.
“Anyway, yeah, definitely. A bank? Do we need a bank? Shit, man, all my experience with this shit was the LOHACSEC. Oh! A library, definitely, you’re a genius.” Dave hugs the Mayor. “You are the best, seriously.”
Dirk drops the orange crayon he’d been given. The Mayor picks it up with his left hand, unencumbered by octopus-like Striders, and offers it to Dirk.
“What else do we need in a big city? Supermarkets, right?” Dave draws some squares on the grid under them, still holding the Mayor’s right hand.
“Keep it, dude,” Dirk tells the Mayor. “I don’t think I have much to contribute here, the only city I’ve ever seen was underwater.”
“Oh.” Dave’s animated gestures halt, arms falling limp by his sides, and he looks at Dirk. “Uh, if you’re sure.”
Dirk absconds.
“Sure,” John says when Dirk asks if he can join. “Pick a team!” He gestures at the scattered groups of consorts in front of them. “These ones are A-Team, and these are the Justice League, that’s the Evil Brotherhood of Mutants (not actually evil)...”
Dirk tunes out the rest and joins a random team. Three salamanders bubble at him.
The consorts are supposed to arrange large alchemized generic object walls into rudimentary shelter. John floats above and calls out instructions.
The third time a beam almost slams into Dirk’s midsection, he decides to call it a day. The consorts are fine but he is literally twice their height and they forget to adjust for it.
“Okay! Have a good one!” John calls out to Dirk as he leaves, cheerful and oblivious.
At the ectobiology station, Kanaya consults with Karkat and Rose. Dirk stands off to the side, as useful as a bag of jello bricks.
“Perhaps you should take a break, Dirk,” Rose suggests, without looking up from the tadpoles or whatever the fuck they’re looking at. “Have some time to, as the youth say, chill.”
“I’m fine,” Dirk mumbles.
“Don’t be such a wastemuncher,” Karkat says, loud enough that Dirk startles – normal for Karkat. Dirk’s just not used to loud noises. “Take a pissfucking break.”
Kanaya opens her mouth.
Dirk cuts her off. “Let me guess: you think I should rest.”
“As a matter of fact, I do,” she says, proper and prim.
Well. Dirk doesn’t need to be told a fourth time. “Guess I’m not needed here.”
He doesn’t walk away very fast. Nobody calls out after him.
“Dirk!” Jade smiles at him, open and guileless. “I was hoping you’d decide to join us, Jake says you’re an awfully good programmer.”
“Sure.” He doesn’t wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans. “Got anything for me to do?”
She beams at him. “Of course!”
The task Jade gives him seems manageable: write the main server that receives communication requests and sends out information.
Dirk is two hours into coding when Jade stops behind his back and frowns. “Oh, why are you doing it like that?”
“Uh.” Dirk looks at his code. “Like what?”
“Oh, I just mean–” She sits next to him and opens a webpage. “If you use this library, then all of this,” she points at the fruit of Dirk’s endeavors so far, “can be done in two lines.”
Dirk doesn’t remember much about being decapitated, but it was probably better than this. “Oh. So…” So, what the fuck do you want me to actually do?
“Anyway, I want you to consider scale,” Jade says, still smiling. “Think about it – if every consort makes a request five times a day, how long will each of them have to wait?”
Dirk thinks. “Um. A minute?”
“Yep. And nobody wants to wait that long, right?”
“Right,” Dirk says, wooden.
“I’ll send you a couple links to read.” She claps him on the shoulder. He holds himself very, very still until she leaves.
There are footsteps approaching. Dirk should pick himself up and get back to work.
Ha. Work. That’s a nice one.
The footsteps come closer, then stop. “Dirk?” Jake asks.
Dirk squeezes his already-shut eyes tighter. Fucking awesome. He doesn’t reply.
There is a rustle of fabric, and Jake says, “What in the blazes are you doing under the desk?”
About as much good as I’d be doing next to the keyboard. “Meditating,” Dirk says.
“I say!” Further rustles, and a tentative, “Would you mind if I joined you?”
“That’s not how meditation works,” Dirk says, automatically.
“Oh.” More fabric noises. Normally Jake doesn’t move around this much. “Well. Erm. Are you sure?”
Is he? “Not really.” He barks out a sad knock-off of laughter. “Maybe meditation is a group sport now.” It would be far from the first thing he’d gotten wrong today.
“Maybe I should take it up,” Jake says. “Maybe you had a point about the benefits and whatsits of sitting still and not counting z’s. You were right about programming, after all!”
“Was I.”
“Oh, absolutely.” Even without seeing him, it’s clear Jake is nodding enthusiastically. “I thought it must be fiendishly difficult, but it turns out that it’s all quite straightforward! Mighty enjoyable, even!”
Oh. Of course Jake is a better programmer than him. Isn’t Jake better than him in every way that counts? Jake didn’t spend the day around people politely trying to get him to fuck off, that’s for sure. “Yay.”
For a moment, Jake is quiet. Then he says, with the temerity to sound hurt, “I thought you might be happy for me.”
Dirk laughs. It goes on for several minutes and across multiple octaves.
When it dies down, Jake waits another moment before saying, “You don’t sound quite alright, old chum.”
Oh, there they go. “Let me guess. You want me to go take a break?”
“If it stops you from sounding like a deranged hyena then yes, I daresay you could use one!” Jake is sounding agitated as fuck. “What’s the matter?”
Dirk lets his hands drop. He opens his eyes. Jake is kind of blurry.
“The matter,” Dirk snarls, “is that I’m fucking useless. Okay? Is that what you wanted me to admit?”
He tries to get to his feet and leave, and brains himself on the bottom of the desk on the way.
“You’re not going home alone,” Roxy informs him, holding an ice pack to Dirk’s pounding head.
“Jane said I was fine,” Dirk argues.
“Jane said you probably won’t slip into a coma and die.” Roxy glares at him, then sighs. “You shouldn’t be alone right now.”
Dirk is about to say something scathing in response when Jake clears his throat and says, “I’ll go with him.”
Dirk looks down and mumbles some kind of assent. Better than speak up and let them hear his voice breaking.
“Home”, such as it is, is some kind of easily-alchemized tent with a bedroll on the floor. At least Dirk doesn’t have to share.
The tent is definitely not sized for two, which makes it pretty fucking awkward when Jake tries to squeeze in behind him. He manages, finally, but it leaves them sitting close enough for Dirk to feel the warmth of Jake’s skin.
“Dirk.”
“That’s me.” Little though he wishes this were the case.
“You’ve been acting odd all day.” Jake’s eyes are intent on him. “I talked to Dave, he said that you went to work with him and then disappeared with nary a word.”
Dirk looks away. “They didn’t need me.”
Because that’s the raw, rotten truth, isn’t it? They didn’t need him. Nobody does. And if nobody needs him, then what the fuck is he for?
“Karkat said he suggested you take a break and you look, I quote, like someone shot your lusus and shat on its corpse.”
“Yeah, great to hear the gossip network is alive and well.” Christ, what does Jake want from him? What does he think Dirk has left to give?
“It wouldn’t be the end of the world if you did get some rest.” Jake’s voice is gentle, which is odd, since the words feel like a bullet to the stomach.
“I get it.” Dirk doesn’t snarl the words. His voice is quiet, resigned. “I’m underfoot. I’m bothering everyone and getting in the way.”
He’s not sure what he’s expecting, but it’s not for Jake to sit up straight and yell, “Oh, dag nab it! That old toss again?” Before Dirk can flinch, or run away, Jake grabs his hand with a hold like steel. “Oh, no, don’t you dare. You had better listen to me, or, or I will darn skippy make you sorry you didn’t!”
Here it comes. Dirk braces himself.
“You,” Jake says, poking him in the chest, “are not superhuman. And none of us expect you to be.”
Dirk blinks.
Jake keeps going. “You don’t always have to be the best and strongest and cleverest, okay? It’s not subtle and it’s not working. Join the rest of us plebes sometimes! Rest on your bally laurels!”
“You don’t get it,” Dirk grits out.
Jake looks him in the eye like Dirk’s shades are transparent. “Get what? Feeling like I have to prove something? Like I better pretend I’m this strong, clever person so everyone will like me? A rugged adventurer, maybe?”
Okay, maybe he fucking does get it. But still. “People like you.”
At that, Jake looks aside. “People want to kiss me. Whether that’s considered liking, I’m not so sure.”
Dirk’s breath catches. His, “I like you,” is completely unplanned.
Jake is still holding his hand, but his grasp has softened. “You don’t have to spare my feelings.”
“Fuck off. Don’t call me a liar.” Dirk squeezes his hand for emphasis. “I do. Therefore, people like you.”
“They love you, though,” Jake says quietly. "Roxy adores you, you’re Jane’s best friend, Dave was so upset that you didn’t stay to work with them, he was sure it was something he’d done.” He waves off Dirk’s response. “Not because they think you’re someone you’re not. Just for being you.”
There’s a hot prickle behind Dirk’s eyelids. He swallows hard. “That’s…”
“The truth,” Jake says, with a firmness you could lay foundations in. “And nothing but.”
Dirk shakes his head. He’s not disagreeing, he just, he can’t. “So what do they want me to do?”
“Whatever you want,” Jake says, like it’s that simple. Like Dirk’s wants have not lead them all down the shittiest of paths outside Sewer Road.
Dirk mostly kisses him to make a point, but Jake catches that kiss and gives it back, gentler and slower and a thousand times hotter.
“This is such a bad idea,” Dirk mutters, even as he climbs into Jake’s lap, as he urges him to lie down with Dirk on top of him for maximum skin contact.
When they next break for air, Jake has a wicked glint in his eye. “I don’t know, Strider. Seems to me I remember one way to make you relax.”
Dirk is not blushing. It’s warm inside the tent, that’s all. “Prove it,” he counters, and Jake laughs and drags him down for more kisses.