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Chapter 4 The minute they reached the bedroom door, Zim made a wild lunge for Dib’s clothes. Not wanting to have one of his better shirts ruined, Dib offered to take them off himself. Zim agreed, unwilling to damage his own snazzy threads. There was a moment of awkward silence and rustling while the two stood before each other, stripping embarrassedly. Dib was rather reluctant to fully reveal himself to Zim, but he kept firmly in mind that it would be the last thing Zim would see before being laid out onto an autopsy table. Finally, Dib carefully folded his glasses onto the dresser, and only his underwear remained between them. He shifted from heel to toe, very unwilling to part with them, and nervous that he had very little time to do what needed to be done next. The cameras were in place. The trap was set. Zim looked ready to latch onto him again, but Dib held him back. “You’re supposed to take off everything, Zim.” Dib ran his hands through Zim’s hair and tugged lightly, pulling off the bad toupee like he’d wanted to for years. Zim’s antennae rose and proceeded to rub together, no doubt a little chafed at having been confined for so long. Dib wondered how he did it day in and day out if they were as sensitive as earth insects’ antennae were supposed to be. Next, Dib reached around Zim and tugged at his pak, but at this Zim stepped back. “Oh no you don’t, earth-stink.” Damn - it would have been a lot easier to capture Zim without that pak of his. Knowing that Zim wasn’t intending to budge on that one (seeing as he needed his pak to live), Dib stepped forward and quickly prodded Zim’s eyeball before the alien could pull away, shifting his lens a little to one side. “All right, all right.” Zim turned aside for a moment to remove the lenses, which he placed on the dresser nearby. Dib looked into Zim’s glittering red eyes with no small amount of triumph. He stepped back to examine the rest of him, hoping the cameras he’d set up would be able to get a clear shot. Red eyes, three fingers, green skin from to top of his antennae to the bottom of his little alien feet. Nobody could ignore this. This is what he’d been waiting for his entire life. “Heh heh.” Dib gestured smugly toward the spot between Zim’s legs. “You’re a girl, Zim.” Zim cheeks flushed purple. “Shows what you know, Dib.” He stepped forward. “And for all I know, you could be a girl too.” One long spider leg emerged from Zim’s pak, neatly slicing one side of Dib’s underwear and leaving them to fall to the floor. Zim's eyes lowered. “Hmph. Guess not.” And with that Zim was upon him again. He was extremely enthusiastic, or more accurately it seemed to Dib; determined. He bit and tore and drove himself against Dib in a savage parody of the video they’d seen in class. Dib mimicked as best he could, running his fingernails up and down the smooth skin of Zim’s shoulders, matching bite for bite and shove for shove in their strange, primitive dance. They shuffled about the room a few times, bumping against furniture and knocking things from shelves. Stumbling on a piece of discarded clothing, Dib fell, pulling Zim to the floor on top of him. Winded; Dib took a moment to catch his breath, during which he could feel the warmth of Zim’s skin rubbing against his own, the hands roaming his torso, the tongue lapping at his neck. Two slender thighs wrapped around his leg, one of them firmly lodged in his crotch, applying delicious pressure. It felt disgustingly good. This Dib attempted not to notice - even if certain parts of his anatomy were beginning to think otherwise. Dib opened his eyes to see Zim grinning down at him. One hand snaked down between them. It found what it was looking for and - oh God. Dib yelped and scrambled to his feet. Zim wasted little time in latching onto him again, and they resumed their dance to a more frantic tempo as Dib tried desperately to keep Zim’s wandering hands away from a certain sensitive area. It was crucial to Dib that Zim end up on the bed, but the way they were staggering around the room, they’d probably end up falling out of the windowsill sooner or later. Deciding to take the initiative, Dib grabbed Zim’s slender arms and shoved him firmly onto the bed. Zim looked taken aback, surprise evident in his crimson eyes. Dib leaned over him, pinning his arms to the bed. They were both breathing heavily. They stared at each other for a moment. Zim spread his legs. Dib . . . found his body being drawn ever so slowly downwards. Zim inched his head up and hesitantly brought his lips to meet Dib’s. Dib felt something slender and snake-like slip into his mouth. It flicked at his palate and wrapped around his own sluggish tongue. It tasted like nothing Dib had ever known; almost indefinable by categories of sweet, sour, salty or bitter. He pressed himself against Zim for more. Dib released Zim’s arms to be able to maneuver better on the bed. He wrapped his arm around the lighter alien’s waist and gradually shuffled them both upwards on the bed so that their legs weren’t hanging off. Zim brought his arms up around Dib’s shoulders and lifted himself slightly, so that he wasn’t putting as much pressure on his pak. He wrapped his legs around Dib’s waist. They stared at each other for a few seconds. It didn’t seem as though Zim really knew what to do next. Not that Dib did, either. Dib’s breath was becoming shorter in anticipation, and he’d never been harder in his entire life. The sight of Zim beneath him; all naked, green-skinned and alien, was so bizarre and perverse and . . . intoxicating. A drop of precum hit Zim’s abdomen, making a small, painful welt and forcing him to act. The alien brought his hand down and wrapped it around Dib’s member. Dib felt himself being guided towards an opening, warm and slightly moist, apparently not affected by the slowly dripping precum. “Well, get it over with, stink-beast.” Said Zim simply. Dib snorted, and proceeded to do so. The first thrust brought a rush of pleasure so completely unexpected that for a moment Dib could do nothing but close his eyes and cling to Zim, hoping that it wouldn’t be over so soon. He drove himself in as far as he could go, causing Zim to yelp, his fingers dug into Dib’s back and his eyes screwed shut in pain. “Sorry,” muttered Dib, though he didn’t really mean it. Zim opened his eyes and glowered up at him, not seeming to care about apologies anyway. Dib pulled back and thrust again . . . and again . . . and then again. Soon he was lost in the rhythm, push and pull, his own soft grunts and Zim’s occasional squeak of pain. He hadn’t expected it to hurt so much for Zim. The alien glared up at him murderously, wincing with every thrust. Drops of human sweat trickling down towards his green skin caused it to hiss and smoke. Dib hadn’t expected it to feel so good, or he might have considered stopping. Soon Zim’s complaints became louder, but Dib couldn’t hear him for staring at that red serpentine tongue that appeared every time he opened his mouth, and the curve of his neck where the skin became a lighter green than the rest, and the warm and the moist and the sticky and the disgusting and oh god it was so good. . . ******* Someone was singing. Singing upstairs. Those taquitos were good. The Scary Monkey show was over. Singing downstairs? Gir listened for awhile. But the Taquitos! His master’s base had multi-planetary cable. Whoo! Meanwhile, on the Scary Monkey Show. . . Gir wanted to go home and stick waffles up his nose. Gir decided he liked the song. Make sure we’re not bothered, Gir!. . . Waffles up his toes!!! It’s been over for twenty minutes now. . .ten minutes. . . His toes demanded waffles. Gir liked to sing songs. Nothing on but static. . . Gir liked songs that he could remember the words. . . . .to. . . Jumping on the couch is fun, too. WAFFLES!!!. . . . . . .NO, WAIT! TAQUITOS!!!! “Ow. OW. Ow. OW. Ow. OW. Ow. . .” ******* Dib stared up at the ceiling. He was very tired. Something. . . just happened. The descriptors in his mind ranged from revolting to absolutely brilliant. He was having a little trouble processing it all. Zim was lying beside him, propped up on one elbow, staring at him. He’d pulled up one of the sheets to wipe Dib’s sweat off of him, and then arranged it so that they were both covered at the chest. “It is customary to stay the night, is it not?” Dib shrugged. He noted, for the fifteenth time tonight, that Zim’s skin was green. “Do Irkens sleep?” Zim ducked beneath the sheet, attending to something between his legs that Dib didn’t want to know about. “No.” “Oh. Okay.” Dib felt he needed some sleep. He rolled over. “Just out of curiosity. . .Why are you staying here, then?” Zim pulled the pillow over to his side a bit more. “I’m waiting.” Now extremely sleepy, Dib shrugged and closed his eyes. There was something he was supposed to have done, but he couldn’t remember what it was - probably just to throw out the expired milk, or something stupid like that. As Dib was drifting off, he heard Zim’s voice one last time. “Are you my slave yet?” Dib wiped away a string of drool that was forming at the side of his mouth. “Sure Zim, whatever.” Previous Chapter, Next Chapter |