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mergays · 8 years ago

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i’m late but here’s my contribution to @dirkjohnweek

prompt: AU

basically a quality AU involving a hypothetical fire in the building john lives in during the middle of fucking december and the weaboo neighbor that offers to let him use his jacket

enjoy!

It was thirty five degrees fahrenheit outside when the fire alarm in the apartment complex went off.

John was startled out of his bed, and he rolled off of it onto the floor in a panic to pull on a T-shirt over his pajama pants. The room was dark except for a faint blue light streaming in on his door from his window. Droning on, the alarm continued blaring, and he reluctantly dragged himself with a groan, scrambling on his bedside table for his phone and his keys before jogging out.

Once in the living room, he wasted no time tugging on his boots and running out of his apartment, glancing around at his scared neighbors as they too hurried for the stairs. Resisting the urge to push old Mrs. Jenkins down as she took her sweet time blocking the way, John just bounced on his heels, praying that the fire was at least above the third floor.

The lights of the alarms flashed in his face as the crowd hurried down, loudly talking amongst themselves as they each struggled not to be the ones to freak out. John took the stairs two at a time whenever he could, using his height to squeeze inbetween the taller escapees. He pushed out onto the street and immediately shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as he hurried away from the building. A sizeable crowd was forming by this point, most of them looking angry or scared or just plain annoyed, not unlike John himself.

He rubbed his arms frantically, watching his neighbors enviously those who had thought of bringing jackets. For a few seconds he just stood, waiting for a sign of smoke of flames to appear and show an actual fire.

“Hey.”

John didn’t think the voice was talking to him at first, and so he ignored it until he felt a light touch on the top of his shoulder. He turned around to see a taller man, with long hair hanging in his face, and sharp sunglasses sitting on the back edge of his nose. He didn’t look that much like he had rolled out of bed, but as John watched, the other shrugged out of his orange jacket and held it out in offering, revealing a purple sweater with a big knitted penis underneath.

First John looked at the sweater, and then the jacket being offered, before giving the man a look. No matter how hard he squinted, though, the other’s face didn’t deign to change.

“Is this the jacket from that anime Naruto?” John crossed his arms, refusing to give in. A single dark eyebrow arched over the others shades, and he gave a slow shrug, offering it again.

“Yeah.” Is all he finally responded. John couldn’t believe his ears.

What kind of complete lack of shame was this? But suddenly a freezing breeze blasted through his thin shirt, and he snatched the old-school weaboo jacket from the other man.

“I like your shirt.” The man commented, and John looked down, resisting the urge to let out an embarrassed groan. Out of all the shirts cast out on his floor, somehow he had grabbed the joke one Rose had gotten him for his birthday, that read the following:

BORN THIS GAY

He continued looking at the shirt for a long second before pulling on the thick orange jacket, which was surprisingly heavy and warm. The collar just barely brushed the ends of his shaggy hair, reaffirming that he needed to cut it.

“We can’t all knit dick sweaters.” He responded, giving the one in front of him a nod, and the man actually gave a quiet snort.

“My friend made this for me.” The guy explained, holding out his hand. “My name is Dirk.”

For a few seconds John didn’t respond, trying to decide if he wanted to be friends with this weird guy or not. Finally he gave in, shaking the hand in return and giving a little shrug. “John. Do you think the building is actually burning?”

If he hadn’t have been watching so closely, there’s no way he would have seen the sudden shift in Dirk’s demeanor, almost looking sheepish as he looked at all the people lining the empty street.

“Dirk…?”

“Hypothetically, I didn’t mean for the welding torch to catch the whole robot on fire.”

John stared in horror at him for a few long seconds, looking around anxiously at the people surrounding before leaning in to whisper.

“You started the fire? ...Did you put it out?!”

“Yeah, it’s all good. But I came down while they searched so that they wouldn’t find the evidence.”

At the word evidence, John looked at Dirk closely, trying to see any pieces of metal poking out of his skinny jeans or sweater.

And then it hit him.

“The jacket??” He hissed incredulously, feeling at the lumpy pockets and resisting the urge to tear it off.

“Yep.” John could have sworn that he saw the corner of Dirk’s mouth twitch up slightly in a subtle smirk once he had figured it out, and he pulled the jacket tighter to himself, stepping closer as he looked around.

“You know, you could get in a lot of trouble for this. They probably send arsonists to like, jail.”

“I’m not an arsonist,” he stated defensively. “I just like building things, and I made a mistake.” Dirk reached up to try and push up his limp, dyed bangs.

John just shook his head. He took note of the dark circles under the other’s eyes, as well as the chipped off nailpolish he wore. They stood in silence for a few moments together before John half heartedly nudged his fist against Dirk’s shoulder. The other looked up in confusion.

“That’s for waking me up, asshole. And scaring everybody in the building half to death.”

This time Dirk really was smiling slightly, and John felt his face heat up slightly, looking back at the main entrance.

He punched Dirk’s arm harder, and this time the other really did wince.

“And for trying to fucking frame me with the jacket. Who does that? You’re lucky I’m warm.”

Dirk gave him a look.

“The odds of the police actually searching anyone would be incredibly low. But I guess it kind of slipped my mind when I offered it to you.”

John pulls the shitty orange fabric tighter to his body, squinting intently through his large black frames.

“Bullshit.”

A huff of air escaped Dirk as he chuckled silently, making little white puffs in the freezing, lamp-lit air. John felt the small tickle of butterflies alight in his chest at making the asshole laugh, and he shook his head hard, trying to ignore the persistent fluttery feeling.

“You know, if you’re really so ready to pay me back for my crimes, you should come bother me at work sometime. The Walmart off the closest highway, I’m assuming you know which one it is?”

“You work at a Walmart?” John felt stupid for clarifying, but he couldn’t help but eye Dirk in a mix of admiration and disgust.

If anything he had expected some kind of gaming store, or maybe a Hot Topic type place. Spencers? John shuddered to himself, stiffening up when he felt a very awkward and unwelcome hand placing itself on his shoulder.

Quickly he shrugged it off, stepping about a yard away to watch a blank-faced Dirk drop his sympathetic (and warm) hand back down to his leg.

“Yeah.” Dirk replied after a few seconds, seemingly oblivious to the awkward preceding silence. John held back a groan and just wrinkled his nose up, not even trying to hide his obvious discomfort and distaste.

Dirk opened his mouth after a few seconds, likely to weird John out with something else, but just then their landlord stepped out of the building, calling out the massive all-clear.

Feeling his shoulders sag in relief, John moved forwards with the rest of the crowd, trying to escape the uncomfortable situation behind him. Surprisingly, Dirk didn’t seem to follow him, and it wasn’t until he was upstairs at his door that John remembered that he was still wearing the other’s jacket.

With a sigh, he pulled it off, eyeing the now obvious grease-stains on the sleeves with annoyance. What a weirdo.

The pocket clinked again, announcing the presence of the ‘robot parts’ which had caused the whole fiasco, and John found himself instinctively reaching inside to pull them out, determined to witness the root of the problem himself.

His hand closed around a few metal plates that held no significance to him, but as he tugged them from the soft pocket, an inked wisp of paper fluttered out, landing face-down on the floor. John let go of the metal and knelt to pick it up, flipping the tiny scrap over and just staring.

Apartment 32B.

Aka: John’s place.

Silently, John pulled out his phone, and began to pull up Google Maps. It appeared that tomorrow he was going to have to stop by a certain Walmart.

Tapping the button for bookmarks, John shrugged off the jacket and set it down on his table, with his phone on top. He slunk from the living room to his own room, sliding off his pants and into his sheets, sighing at how cool they had become in his short-absence. Tossing his glasses on his bedstand, John snuggled his face into his pillow, finally settling down to sleep.

It was then, of course, that for the second time that night, the piercing wail of a fire alarm went off.

Turning his head, John pressed his mouth into his pillow and screamed.

#sorry this is rushed i forgot when dj week was and i hurried to finish #also hey!! new writing blog #dirkjohn #djw17 #i can't wait to write more stuff even if it's not in time lmao #homestuck

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