Chapter Text
Dirk had been thoroughly enjoying what a fine listener his nurse was up until the point that they said something totally unrelated to his case-narrative. He blinked, reprocessing the phrase.
What he thought they had said was something along the lines of, “I need the chair.”
“Sorry?” Dirk asked politely, just to make sure that he didn’t come off as a complete ingrate.
“That you’re in?” continued the nurse, emphasizing their grip on the wheelchair’s handles.
Chest clenching in remorse, Dirk awkwardly began to lever himself up. It was as he’d feared.
“Oh, yes,” he said, getting to his feet with minimal difficulty, remaining apologetic. “Quite.”
The nurse nodded in silent thanks before wheeling on their way, as if to say good luck.
Dirk was of the opinion standing alone in front of a bus stop, with the exception of a lone bystander—or, as the case may be, sitter—was one of the loneliest scenarios it was possible to be in. Emptiness rushed up to meet him more swiftly than a wave of foreboding.
“Oh, well,” Dirk said, waving briefly before clasping his hands behind him. “Here I am again.”
“Where?” asked a familiar voice, unexpected in the sheer normalcy of its immediate response.
Dirk turned his head, fleetingly uncertain as to whether this ought to be classed as a vivid hallucination. Todd approached, so fetching in his dark flannel shirt, so adorable with that pedestrian blue backpack, that Dirk wanted to squeeze him, and…
And that was out of the question, wasn’t it? Todd had made his stance on Dirk perfectly clear.
Nonetheless, Todd was looking at him with a sort of bafflingly contrite, vulnerable invitation.
“Todd, you’re…here,” said Dirk, carefully weighing his options. “But the…the case is over.”
Todd nodded, tilting his head with almost instant concern toward Dirk’s concealed injuries.
“How’s your shoulder?” he asked, his tone illogically heartbreaking in its plaintive sincerity.
“It’s…terrible, actually,” Dirk said, pressing tentative fingers at the first arrow’s entrance-point, using the pain to ground himself. “Look, I don’t—I don’t understand. Did you want something from me, or…? I can’t help you, I—I can’t do anything to help your situation, or what I said—”
As Dirk’s panic rose, as he ran his mouth faster, Todd continued his oddly frightened approach.
“Dirk, just for a second, would you stop with the—look, this is…” Todd swallowed, lifting his hand, fingers stilling just shy of Dirk’s abraded cheek. “Jesus, that looks—” he shook his head as if to clear it “—Dirk, can I…”
“Yes,” Dirk whispered tremulously, guiding Todd’s hand to cover the laceration, ignoring the sudden sting. “Yes, please,” he went on, knowing that if this was going where he hoped, the pain was immaterial. “If…I mean, only if you…”
Todd slid his left arm around Dirk and used it to balance on tiptoe, graceful as you please. He kissed Dirk as if every word he couldn’t bring himself to say was in the press of his lips.
Dirk leaned into the contact, mouth opening eagerly against Todd’s, his shoulder burning. Whether the sound he made was a wince or a moan was irrelevant. He was kissing Todd.
The man on the bench behind them whistled, although there wasn’t any particular malice in it.
Dizzy as Todd finally drew back from him, Dirk tried to chase his lips, whimpering at the loss.
“I don’t need help,” Todd said, brushing his thumb along Dirk’s cheekbone before bringing his hand to the strap of his backpack. “I need…” He gave Dirk a meaningful look, tilting his head at the man on the bench, who was paying too much attention. “Here,” he continued, unzipping his backpack in order to remove Dirk’s yellow jacket. “I got this from your apartment.”
“Oh, um…” Dirk shook the jacket in dismay, still buzzing with the wondrous contact he’d lost.
Todd removed another item from the backpack, this one shapeless and black, handing it to Dirk.
“It’s a Mexican Funeral t-shirt,” Todd said, his cheeks gone pink. “I don’t have many left, so try not to—” he watched breathlessly as Dirk held the shirt up against his chest “—get shot in it.”
“Look, I’m sorry,” Dirk faltered, once again consumed by doubt. “You’re…” He clutched the jacket and shirt, wondering if, thanks to the morphine they’d pumped into his system, he’d hallucinated the last thirty seconds. “What do you want? Why are you here?”
“I’m here because I’m your friend,” Todd said, apology and confession all at once. “Besides, I don’t want to miss out on when the next case starts.”
Is kissing like that a thing friends do? Dirk wanted to ask. Instead, he stammered uselessly for a few seconds before surging forward, nosy man on the bench be damned.
Todd met him halfway, swept up in the same speechless, emotional quandary. He lingered this time, swiping his tongue across Dirk’s lower lip, shyly nipping at it.
It was Dirk’s turn to withdraw, abashed, as the man behind them said, “C’mon, get a room.”
“Didn’t you say this band hated you?” Dirk asked, averting his eyes under the guise of disdain.
“Yeah, well,” Todd said, tucking the articles of clothing securely over Dirk’s left arm before tentatively taking his right hand. “We’re late. Farah wants to meet up.”
“What, really?” Dirk asked, all too willing to be slowly, carefully be dragged along by Todd.
“Yeah,” Todd said, giving him that sweet, crinkly-eyed smile as he dragged Dirk over to an unassuming silver sedan. “Really. She’s okay. I hope you haven’t been too worried.”
“When it comes to you and Farah,” he said as Todd helped him into the car, “I always worry.”
“Same with you guys,” Todd said, quickly making his way around to the driver’s side. “Ready?”
Dirk stared at him, fingers fretting with the zipper of his coat, overwhelmed by the need to touch.
“Shit,” he whispered, reaching across the center console. “I need you, too. I need you so, so—”
Todd quieted him with a kiss—real, those two other kisses had been real—but softer this time, more chaste and reassuring. He stroked Dirk’s cheek again, too lightly to hurt.
“Shhh. We can…later. My place, your place, I don’t care. Right now, I’ve gotta drive.”
We can what? Dirk thought, his head spinning as Todd navigated them out of the parking lot. Kiss some more? Discuss our unbelievably convoluted feelings? Have it off very, very carefully because our bodies are falling apart?
Todd shot him an apprehensive glance, pointing to the items of clothing bunched in Dirk’s lap.
“You should change into those,” he said, and then realized the implications of saying such a thing. “I mean, it’s not that—you don’t have to, but I just thought you’d want—”
“Drive now, talk later,” Dirk said, unzipping the hoodie the hospital had given him. He struggled out of the boring undershirt they’d provided along with it, hissing in pain.
All the while, Todd blinked rapidly at the road ahead. It was taking all of his willpower not to glance over, and that provided Dirk with the answer to at least one of his questions.
Dirk finished donning the t-shirt with discomfort. Getting the jacket on was more of a chore, but all he could think was, If the physical is what you can offer me for now, I’ll take it.
The diner that Farah had chosen was in an offbeat, trendy part of town, and it wasn’t terribly crowded. Dirk was relieved when they were able to find street parking less than a block away, and the fact that Todd held his hand until they had to go inside made him giddy.
Farah greeted them with long, tight hugs, and that suited Dirk just fine. Closeness was what he craved after the isolation of a clinical setting, and it was being offered to him freely.
It was a good job Farah didn’t launch her investment proposal until they were well into their meals. If she’d led with that, Dirk would’ve been too excited to eat.
All the while, Todd’s body language continued on the same trajectory. He sat close enough to Dirk on their side of the booth that their arms were almost always touching, and the first excuse he found to brush Dirk’s hand under the table set Dirk’s nerves alight.
His short-lived strop about the title of Ward was in no way upsetting, although he was wrong about the meaning. To be a ward meant to be under guardianship of something, not guardian of it. He’d rather missed the point.
“If somebody comes while I’m gone,” Farah said, wiping her mouth and dropping her napkin as she got up, “no dessert for me, because I’m stuffed. But knock yourselves out.”
“It’s the other way around,” Dirk said as soon as Farah was out of earshot, so as not to humiliate Todd. “I meant that you’re under the Agency’s—and therefore my—protection.”
Todd gave him a crooked smile, nodding to the server who’d come to clear away their plates.
“Okay, so you’re not actually pissing me off,” he allowed, and then turned to the server. “Hey, can I get some coffee? Dirk said he wants some of the house pie.”
“With lots of whipped cream,” said Dirk, insistently. “And three forks, just in case.”
“Sure thing,” the server said, and walked off with their plates in a flawlessly-balanced stack.
Dirk wanted to kiss Todd again for his consideration, but he didn’t know if the setting was conducive. A nearly-deserted bus stop in front of a hospital was one thing, but a diner…
“Not much longer,” Todd said, bumping Dirk’s shoulder with his own. “It’s a lot, isn’t it?”
“It’s…yes,” Dirk agreed, leaning before he realized what he was doing, stopping himself as soon as their foreheads touched. “It’s not just that. It’s everything.”
Farah returned in the split-second they were like that, giving them a puzzled look as she slid back into her side of the booth. Thankfully, the server arrived just then with coffee and pie.
“Looking cozy,” she remarked, stealing a sip of coffee before sliding the mug back at Todd, eyeing Dirk’s dessert. “Whoa, I don’t wanna guess how many calories are in that.”
“Lots,” Dirk said, shoving a forkful of lemon meringue into his mouth. “Necessary to recovery.”
“Sounds legit,” Todd chimed in, stealing one of the strawberry slices garnishing Dirk’s plate.
“So,” Farah said, watching in unabashed amusement as Dirk dug into his pie, “if we do this—”
“We’re already doing it,” Dirk said, elated, offering the next bite to an adorably befuddled Todd.
Todd let Dirk feed it to him, seemingly spurred on by Farah’s fond eye-roll and go-on-then nod.
“Well,” he asked, swallowing with difficulty, clearly keen to speak, “how do we find a case?”
“Just let yourself feel it,” said Dirk, emboldened, letting his free hand drop beneath the table to rest on Todd’s thigh. There was only so much roundabout implication he could stand; if he had to drop hints, so be it. He rubbed over the worn denim, palm coming to rest on Todd’s knee.
Todd nearly choked on his next sip of coffee. He set the mug down and locked eyes with Dirk.
“Feel it?” Farah asked, glancing hesitantly between them. If she’d noticed, she was being polite.
“Yes,” Dirk said emphatically, setting down his fork. He lifted his hand from Todd’s leg and placed it on his shoulder, urging Todd to sit back. “Okay, take a moment. Feel anything?”
Todd said nothing, eyes tracking over the ceiling. His fingers brushed the seam of Dirk’s jeans.
“Okay, close your eyes,” Dirk said, ignoring the touch with great effort. He set both hands on Todd’s arm, letting one slide down to cover Todd’s hand on the seat, lacing their fingers idly together during the long seconds as Todd’s breath deepened. “Anything at all?”
“I—” he opened his eyes, tilting his head dubiously at Dirk “—need to go to the bathroom.”
Dirk let go of Todd with reluctance as he rose and slid out of the booth, sighing as he watched Todd leave. Recovering himself, he turned to find Farah eyeing him with mischief.
“It’s…” He gestured uselessly, hoping that his facial expression conveyed the sentiment.
“Mmmhm, yeah,” Farah agreed, taking a moment to stare out the window so she wouldn’t burst into laughter. She glanced back at him a beat later and said, “Hey, um, are you guys…?”
“I think?” said Dirk, a frisson of warning taking him by surprise. “I mean, we’ve…” Cold, clear knowledge—something approaching—slipped down his spine. “Farah, would you excuse me for a moment?” he asked, sliding out of the booth. “Just…a moment.”
Outside, the air felt thin as he moved through it, drawing the terrible sense of wrongness, whatever it was, onward to somewhere, anywhere. Far from Todd and Farah.
Before he could bend to examine the change of texture beneath his feet, Farah’s strong, familiar grasp locked around his wrist, dragging him back. She didn’t stop until she’d hauled him back inside the diner, apologetically steering him back down into his seat.
“Look, I’m sorry,” she faltered, “but I felt something, okay? It said not to let you run off.”
Dirk nodded up at her dazedly, shoving the unfinished pie in her direction. “Well done, you.”
Farah went around the opposite side of the table, tugging the plate toward herself. “Thanks.”
Dirk might have snatched one of the extra forks and joined her in polishing it off, but the static still coursing through his veins finally surged and scattered. Someone started to scream.
No, not someone, Dirk realized, watching Farah’s expression turn to horror. Todd.
He was out of his seat and dashing in the direction of the loo, or at least the direction in which he’d seen Todd head, as fast as his feet could carry him. The pain in his shoulder exploded.
Todd was on the floor, curled in on himself in the narrow hall, his phone lying not far off.
While Dirk dropped beside him, Farah caught up with them and retrieved Todd’s phone.
Oh, Dirk realized distantly, gathering a sobbing Todd in his arms. Amanda.
“Dirk,” Todd said, clawing at Dirk’s back, too far gone to realize he risked putting pressure on one of Dirk’s injuries. “Dirk, it’s—it’s like I’m—I’m burning all over, I think it’s—”
“An attack,” Farah said numbly, staring at Todd’s phone as the call dropped. “Like Amanda’s.”
Todd, calmer by the second that Dirk clung to him, nodded miserably against Dirk’s shoulder.
“I’ve got you,” Dirk murmured, mouth pressed to Todd’s temple. “It’s all right, we’ll go to your sister’s place and fetch some medication, everything’s going to be…”
“I’m not letting you guys go alone,” Farah said, crouching beside them. “How’d you get here?”
“Rental car,” Todd gritted out, exhaling, tension in him going slack. “I thought we’d need…”
“Keys,” Farah sighed, holding out her hand. “You can’t afford that. I’ll take you guys to Amanda’s place and make sure it gets turned in. I’ll find you another one.”
“Another car?” Dirk asked in dismay, taking the keys from Todd’s pocket, handing them over as requested. “Oh, right. Money.”
“Farah, that’s too much,” Todd said weakly, nosing beneath the collar of Dirk’s jacket like contact with skin was his lifeline. “But, yeah…Amanda has lots of…”
“Don’t try to talk,” Dirk said, rubbing Todd’s back, not even caring that Farah outright watched him press a worried kiss to Todd’s cheek. “Do you think you can stand?”
Todd nodded, breath rapid and shallow. He mouthed something inaudible against Dirk’s neck.
“Let’s get him on his feet,” Farah said, apparently unfazed. She helped pull Todd up from the floor, slinging one of Todd’s arms across her shoulders even as Dirk took the other. “Okay.”
“I can tell you how to get to Amanda’s place,” Todd said shakily as they hobbled him toward the exit. “It’s not too far. I have some changes of clothes there if we…”
Stay the night, Dirk thought, longing to hold Todd as close as he could, to keep him safe.
Amanda’s rented house in the suburbs was in better shape than Todd’s apartment, and it was dusk by the time they arrived. Farah, ready to help Dirk get Todd out of the back, was relieved to see he was more or less standing on his own now. He let Dirk hold him up anyway.
“So, right,” Farah said, running her fingers through her hair, visibly stressed. “I need to take care of this rental car situation. I’m also on call with the security team out at the Spring Estate, and there are a lot of loose ends. Think you guys’ll be okay till tomorrow?”
Dirk didn’t trust himself to speak. He’d end up saying something like Sure, leave us for a week, we’ll need it or We’re consenting adults, Farah, don’t be daft.
“We’ll be fine,” Todd said, sounding like himself again. “Just…maybe text in the morning?”
Farah closed her eyes and made finger-guns at them, shoving her hands in her pockets before wandering around to the driver’s side again. Dirk followed, towing Todd with him.
“Farah,” Dirk said quietly, delaying her closing of the door with his free hand. “Thank you.”
“Does no good if my boys are too shot up and sick to function,” said Farah, wryly. “Sleep.”
They watched her pull out into the street and drive away, swaying into each other slightly.
“You need medication,” Dirk said decisively, wheeling them toward the front door. “Now.”
“I mean, the attack has passed,” Todd said, tugging his personal keys out of his back pocket, “but it’s preventative, so…yeah. I don’t want another one soon.”
They’d no sooner gotten inside and locked the door behind them than Todd pulled Dirk down by the lapels. They were messy and uncoordinated; the keys stayed where they fell.
“Todd, the pills,” Dirk panted, nonetheless pulling Todd possessively against him. “Where?”
“Bathroom,” Todd said, sounding as distracted as Dirk felt. “Off the main bedroom, here…”
Dirk let Todd drag him back the darkened hall, flipping light switches as they went.
Once they’d reached the loo, Dirk sat on the edge of the tub and unlaced his shoes with trembling fingers while Todd fumbled with one of the prescription bottles on the counter. He slipped off his jacket, wincing as it fell behind him into the tub. At least it looked dry.
Todd swallowed two pills with a handful of water from the sink, and then came over to perch beside Dirk. He noted Dirk’s cast-off shoes and followed suit, tipping sideways into Dirk.
“I’m not very good at this,” he said, resting his head on Dirk’s shoulder. “In fact, I suck at it.”
“What,” Dirk replied mildly, trying not to let on how fast his heart was beating, “adulting?”
“Yeah, and everything related,” Todd said, smiling against Dirk’s neck. “That’s your area.”
Dirk couldn’t help but grin his face off at the pun, so he got to his feet and offered Todd his hands. Tactical error, it turned out, because that pitched him into instant, excruciating pain.
“Easy, Dirk, jeez,” Todd said, steadying him. “Do we need to check your bandages?”
“They didn’t say I need to change them,” Dirk said tersely, “what with the stitches, but I have this extremely vague recollection of being told to leave them on until tomorrow-ish.”
“We at least need to make sure you didn’t pull anything,” Todd said, leading him out into the bedroom. He settled Dirk on the edge of the lazily-made bed, skimming tentative fingers along the collar of Dirk’s Mexican funeral tee. “Make sure there’s not blood seeping through, or…”
Dirk sucked in his breath and struggled to pull up the hem, so Todd helped him remove the shirt.
Todd just stared at Dirk for a few seconds, classic deer-in-the-headlights stuff. But he steeled himself quickly enough and brushed his hand along the gauze taped around Dirk’s right shoulder, swathing collarbone and scapula alike.
There was no seepage, Dirk realized. This was a courteous excuse, a way to forgive themselves for not knowing how else to approach the inevitable. Dirk glanced up, locking eyes with Todd, unaccustomed to a reduction in their height difference.
“You must be quite warm,” he said, bringing his fingers up to pick at Todd’s top few buttons, encouraged when Todd guided his hands to the next few. “Stuffy in here, isn’t it?”
“Amanda likes to joke she has the circulation of a seventy-year-old lady,” Todd said, his breath hitching as Dirk, done with the job, slid his palms from Todd’s sides up to his chest.
Overwhelmed with the knowledge he could touch without fear of consequences, Dirk pulled Todd forward by the hips. He closed his eyes, pressed his mouth to Todd’s heartbeat, and then tipped his chin up so that it rested there. Blinking, he forced out his breath.
"Would it be entirely crass to admit that I…” Dirk swallowed. “I want you, Todd. So much.”
“Would it be crass if I said no,” Todd parried, “and asked if I can strip you the rest of the way?”
Dirk released him, shaking his head wildly. He couldn’t imagine how they’d arrived on the same yearning, seemingly inexperienced page. There he went, hopelessly spiraling out.
“Hey, I can go first,” Todd said, shedding his shirt a little self-consciously. He unbuttoned his jeans, shoved them down, and stepped out of them. He took a detour via sock-removal, and then looked up at Dirk as if they hadn’t ever seen this much of each other before.
“Come here,” Dirk whispered, tugging at him again, all too aware that Todd was already hard inside his boxers. He kissed Todd’s chest again, open-mouthed and shameless, and then low on his belly, lips catching and dragging at his waistband. Todd’s shiver was mesmerizing.
“You're so perfect I can't stand it,” he went on, aware he was babbling, catching a taste of cotton and skin. “Truly, it's—it’s like the universe just knew, really outdid itself on—”
“Dirk, hey,” Todd said, sounding no better off, rubbing Dirk’s arms. “Shhh. C'mon, lay down.”
Feeling determined, if manic, Dirk rubbed his cheek against the front of Todd’s boxers and breathed into the crease of his thigh. He wanted to taste again, taste more, taste different.
“But I want this,” he said, hating how petulant he sounded as Todd stroked his hair. “You’re…”
“Later,” Todd said, stepping back so Dirk had no say in the matter, and then nudged at Dirk’s shoulders. “You're stressed and in pain, and I'm taking care of you.”
Nobody to refuse such an endearing proposal, Dirk fell obediently back against the duvet and let Todd wrangle them in the right direction. Amanda’s pillows were soft, for the most part clean.
“Tell me what comes next,” Todd said, dipping to kiss Dirk’s neck. “You get to call the shots.”
“Take these off,” Dirk panted, frantic, shoving at Todd’s waistband. “Take mine off.”
The situation was awkward for the fact that Dirk was still in trousers, never mind the maddening restriction of his boxer-briefs. Todd shimmied out of his first, maybe another gesture of good faith, and it was all Dirk could do not to rush, to instinctively reach.
“Hold on,” Todd said, unfastening Dirk’s jeans, enough to make Dirk whimper. He finished the job in several methodical tugs as he backed his way down the bed, tossing Dirk’s bottom layers on the floor. “How about these?” he asked, brushing Dirk’s sock-covered insteps.
“Smart-arse,” Dirk breathed reproachfully, opening his eyes wide, lifting his head. “Those, too.”
Sockless in no time, he lay staring at an enticingly naked Todd as if dinner hadn’t been enough.
“Oh,” he said, reaching again, always stubbornly reaching, even as Todd complied, “please.”
Todd was on Dirk in a heartbeat—his warm anchor, everything he wanted. He pressed impossibly close, groaning into Dirk’s mouth as their teeth clashed, grinding Dirk so desperately into the mattress that Dirk felt dizzy with it.
“You’re shaking,” Todd gasped, fingers tangled with Dirk’s above their heads. “Does it hurt—”
“Touch me,” Dirk pleaded, fretfully squeezing Todd’s hands. “I need you to touch me now.”
“Fuck yes,” Todd said, rolling away so abruptly that Dirk wanted to scream. “Wait…”
Whatever he rummaged out of the bedside dresser-thingy had better prove useful, because—ah, well. Water-based lubricant was a sensible contingency most young people kept around.
Todd settled in against Dirk’s side, cleverly managing to flip the cap while Dirk continued to kiss him. His cock twitched against Dirk’s side, so Dirk gave it a brush by feel alone.
“Don’t distract me!” Todd yelped, and, in a blink, his slick hand was right where Dirk wanted it.
Dirk couldn’t think, couldn’t draw breath except to cry out. He clung to Todd more tightly with each stroke, heat flooding him from chest to belly faster than was even fair.
“Dirk,” Todd said, still stroking him, kissing him soothingly through the come-down. “Wow.”
“I wasn’t lying,” Dirk said breathlessly, scrabbling for the tube even as satiated and hazy as he felt. “If I say I need you to do something, I bloody well mean it.”
“That took, like, five seconds,” Todd said, kissing Dirk deeply now, less coordinated, “and was the hottest thing I’ve ever…”
“Ever what?” Dirk prompted, closing his hand around Todd, moving with Todd’s tight thrusts.
“Ever seen, Christ,” Todd cursed, tugging Dirk’s hand away, shifting so they were hip to hip.
Pressed flush, Dirk could wrap around Todd to his heart’s content, ankles locked at the small of Todd’s back. He raked his fingers through Todd’s hair, and that was the proverbial last straw.
Todd shuddered through his climax, not at all quiet, fingers digging excruciatingly into Dirk’s hip.
“Goodness, darling,” Dirk murmured before he even realized what he was saying.
“Oh no,” Todd panted, laughing exhaustedly into the pillow next to Dirk’s ear, “that's hot.”
“I’m glad we’ve established that you find me hot,” Dirk said, nuzzling Todd’s damp cheek.
That seemed to give Todd pause. He didn't speak for about half a minute before lifting his head.
“How could I not,” he said, with the same vulnerable trepidation as earlier. “I’ve been falling for you ever since this—since we started. I was mad as shit about it. No—I was scared, maybe.”
Dirk nodded slowly, kissing the corner of Todd’s mouth this time, aiming for tender reassurance.
“I was afraid I’d scare you if I said that first,” he sighed. “Easier to say I wanted you. In case.”
Todd frowned at him, turning his head so that he could kiss Dirk properly. “In case of what?”
“In case you didn’t love me,” Dirk breathed, ashamed at the fragility of his faith, “or care—”
Todd kissed the words right back into his mouth, and, like earlier, that was the part that mattered.