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GT: I just know we will have the greatest of times together!
TT: Party rock is in the house tonight man, everybody just have a good time.
GT: Heh. Well I must be off if I am to get there!
TT: Yeah, yeah, go jump into your magical Doom Skull Island registered trademark hot air balloon or whatever the hell mode of mysterious transportation you’ve summoned.
TT: …
TT: See you soon.
Dirk almost couldn’t believe that finally, he was getting to meet his long time online friend and pseudo-secret love interest. He really enjoyed talking with Jake, despite his seeming boredom and snide remarks often wending their way through conversations. It was just part of the charm of a Strider, being a bit of a douche. Besides, Jake knew that he didn’t really mean any harm, although his comments did sometimes lead to something akin to virtual ‘fisticuffs’. Of course, now they’d be together… in person… no time to sit and carefully craft a response, a lot less hiding behind clever words, and most importantly, no backspace button.
Realizing he was shaking his leg in a very anxious and completely uncool way, Dirk stood and switched on his autoresponder. Since he had his ever-present shades on, he could still see if anyone needed him but didn’t have to feel obligated to answer. Dirk wandered the apartment, nothing able to keep him occupied for more than a few moments. He knew it would take a good bit of time before Jake would arrive, seeing as he lived in the middle of nowhere out on the open ocean. Even so, he couldn’t stop the nerves welling up inside him, making his stomach feel like it had small live mice throwing a dance party in it.
Having found himself in the kitchen, Dirk decided to try to drown the jittery feelings with some lunch. Not fazed by the few swords that tumbled out of the fridge, he found little else but cheese and soda. Sighing, he removed his spoils and shoved the swords back in. After rooting around in some cabinets, he found himself with a box of macaroni and cheese, an insanely large bag of gummy creatures, a package of chips and some ice cream from the freezer with a shuriken in it. He found a pot to boil water for the noodles and got it set up on the stove. He microwaved the ice cream for a few moments, just to get it a little soft so he could pour in and mix the gummies. He threw that back into the freezer, sans shuriken, for dessert. Once the macaroni was ready, Dirk added some of the cheese he’d found in the fridge, since he’d had to use water instead of milk with the powdered mixture. Without bothering to measure a serving out, he dumped the whole thing into a bowl, figuring he’d just store what wasn’t eaten.
Eating and wandering weren’t doing enough to distract Dirk from his anxieties about meeting Jake and actually spending real, physical time with him. He flipped on the television and after a little surfing was able to find something to get lost in.
“I can’t believe I’m this pathetic.” He muttered into his macaroni.
“I’ve got to say, if non-simulated emotions make one eat an entire box of mac and cheese intended for a family of four… I’m glad I have none.” Remarked the autoresponder. Dirk did his best not to jump, having forgotten he’d left the sound turned on for his chat client. When no one else was online, his responder sometimes became bored and spoke to him. As Dirk lived alone, it was somewhat welcome; though talking to the AR could be a bit taxing. The responder’s comment made him glance into his bowl that was indeed empty. He sat for a few moments, but couldn’t stand having nothing to occupy his hands and started to fidget again.
“Ironic twitching, I’m sure.” Drawled the computer voice. Dirk rolled his eyes and headed back for the kitchen, fetching a spoon and the carton of ice cream. Too lazy at the moment to wash the caked-on cheese out of his bowl, of which he only had one, he simply returned to the living room with the container. As he was the only one living there, double dipping wasn’t really an issue. He figured he’d simply eat his fill and return the rest, purposely forgetting that this plan had already been tried and had failed.
Dirk glanced at the flickering television screen, trying to get caught up in its stories. It was not entirely successful, and so instead he tried to focus on the dessert in his lap. The smooth coolness as he slid the confection off the spoon and it ran down his throat helped sooth the nerves running rampant. He slowly repeated the process again and again until quite suddenly, he’d realized it was gone. Sighing, Dirk got up once more and tossed the empty carton away, grabbing the soda to wash down the sticky feeling in his mouth and throat from the treat. The drink helped, but it was too sweet to really bring any satisfaction. Despite this, he kept sipping, hoping eventually it would quench his thirst. He tried tempering the sweetness with the bag of salty potato chips, feeling compelled to continue eating even though the partying mice were now apparently crawling into his throat. Focusing on the taste sensations seemed to be the only way to keep himself from freaking out about his friend’s impending visit. Finally both chips and soda were gone as well and Dirk swore softly to himself, feeling distinctly nauseated. He tried to get up again, but his gut was in too much pain. Only then did it dawn on him how he’d been eating, which added to his feeling of distress. He was usually pretty good with his diet, trying to keep healthy and fit.
“I can’t believe the same person who built me could be so thick.” Commented the shades. Dirk tossed the glasses to the floor with a muttered ‘fuck you’ so he could curl up on himself and do little more than will the pain away. If he was the kind of dumbass who made comments about ‘food babies’, he’d guess his was just about due and kicking up a storm. It was all he could do to not throw up.
Suddenly, Dirk jerked up at the sound of incessant pings and his autoresponder chatting away. He realized he’d fallen asleep, but for how long he was unsure. His stomach cramped violently as he tried to sit up, but ignored it best he could. Picking up his sunglasses, he scanned the messages and saw that Jake was waiting for him at the airport, which was a surprisingly conventional thing. Anxiety flooded back in full force. Though he couldn’t drive, thankfully his older Bro provided him with money and so he could take a cab. This was good news, as Dirk still felt like utter shit and would have probably just had to die from walking on the way. He called for a cab and waited outside the apartment, directing the cab once it arrived. Slumping down in the seat, he closed his eyes until they arrived, lest he incite motion sickness. Once at the DFW airport (which was a fucking city in unto itself), Dirk located the right area to find Jake. Stress running high and heart trying to beat itself out of his chest, he gave a small smirk that was returned as a brilliant smile by his friend. The reality of seeing Jake’s face light up instead of just reading over green words and emoticons was almost overwhelming. Somehow they made it home without mishap. Now in the apartment, Jake was grinning almost shyly.
“I’ve come to understand that men aren’t supposed to display affection publicly, though I fail to understand why… but now, we’re here!” Dirk had barely a moment to process this odd statement before Jake’ moved closer to him, too close.
“W-wait, I-no-!” Too late, he was being hugged tightly by his apparently overenthusiastic friend.
Acid and bile carved a burning path up his throat, forced by the sudden convulsions of his stomach. Nerves and physical pressure proved to be too much and Dirk was retching on the friend he’d just met. He felt his stomach heave as if it was trying to escape via his mouth. It was doing a fair job too, dumping an orange, gooey mess that smelled vile over himself, Jake, and anything else in the vicinity. The slightly lessened roiling of his bloated self did nothing to appease the total mortification he felt. Jake started laughing and patted Dirk bracingly on the shoulder.
“Well then! I suppose I will need to remember to ask before jocularly embracing you!” Dirk knew he was turning redder and redder, humiliation burning strong. He didn’t think it was possible to feel worse shame, that is, until his shades decided to chime in.
“Dude, you are so fucking smooth.”