Dirkjake Gift For 4000tacobells (homestuck, M)

[LeapYearKisses]

Soooo this turned out really long - a lot longer than I originally planned. Hope that doesn't make it drag. I'll be posting it in a couple of parts. Also, I feel I should state up front that I did no research for this at all, haha. XD I've been camping once, so the mountain environment is pretty solidly based on my experience, but other than that, I just winged it. The fic you wrote me was so awesome and I hope this lives up to it!

 

---

 

--> Be Jake English.

 

“Dirk? Dirk!” You lean down over the edge of the top bunk and raise an eyebrow. Your roommate – and current source of mild ire – misses the expression completely, glued as he is to his computer screen, but you feel that it’s warranted nonetheless. “Cheese and crackers, man, are you even listening to me or are you too enraptured by the metallic gams of some robot on the internet?”

 

“You know how I feel about those fucking gams,” he replies, finally wrenching his eyes away to give you a slight smirk. “Sorry. What were you saying?” He rests one distracting, bare arm on the back of his chair and gives you his full attention. It’s like being trapped in the headlights of an oncoming Range Rover, but by god, you will persevere. You’ve only been living with him for an entire six months; you should be used to it.

 

You clear your throat. “I was saying that, since our finals are over and done with, I might take a hike into the treacherous and nigh insurmountable foothills of nearby Mount Lee before I jet off back to Hellmurder Island. Which isn’t at all as bad as you folks keep making it out to be, crabdads notwithstanding. I mean, at this time of year, everything’s more or less settled down from the harrowing mating season and all, so there’s hardly any reason to-”

 

“Jake.” Dirk’s head is tilted in the exasperatedly fond way you’ve come to recognize over the past year as roommates/best pals/sort-of boyfriends maybe. “That sounds great. I know how much you like hiking, and I think it’s the perfect time of the year for it, too.” He waits for a moment and then taps a finger against his chair. “….Not to rush you or anything, but the sassy little minx I was just ogling was actually a toolkit for my summer mechanics projects, so if you’re done…?”

 

You shake your head. “Blast it! I don’t just want your opinion, I want you to come with me! I am cordially inviting you along on this hike, my good man.” You give him a winning smile and try to ignore your glasses slipping down your nose. When they inevitably fall off, Dirk stretches out a lightning-fast hand and catches them.

 

“All right. Why not?” He folds in the earpieces before handing them back to you. “It’s a date.”

 

You try to suppress your glee and simply thank him like a normal person before turning back to the comic book in your lap. This is going to be so much fun!

 

---

 

The morning of the hike dawns bright and airy and warm. In other words, perfect. You’re up nice and early to have breakfast and prep your gear. You’ve decided that, what with the brilliant weather, it’s not a bad idea to turn your day trip into a little camping party. You have the packs all done up and ready to go by the time Dirk stirs in the dark recesses of his bed.

 

“Rise and shine, Dirk!” you exclaim, enduring the bleary misanthropy of his one visible eye. “I’ve let you sleep in enough. If we wait any longer to get started, we’ll be boiling in our boots by the time we get to the steeper parts!” You dare to rest a hand on the lump of his leg under the blanket and are heartened when he doesn’t shake you off. “I brought you a bagel and orange juice from the caf, just over on top of the microwave. Let’s go!”

 

“Fine, fine,” he mumbles, or something like it. “Gotcha.” He rolls over and lets an arm hang off the bed. “I’m getting up. This is progress.”

 

“That’s the spirit!” You leave him to it, well aware that his morning routine can’t be rushed. While he dresses, eats, and brushes his teeth, you make sure to send Roxy and Jane emails letting them know where you’ll be, just in case you need to be airlifted off the mountain in the unlikely event of disaster. That finished, there’s only waiting for Dirk left to do. When you catch him styling his hair for the third time in his full-length mirror, you make an impatient noise and get him out the door, pack in tow.

 

There’s a bus that runs from the middle of campus out to the trailhead and you and he are not the only campers taking advantage of it. You end up standing in the front with Dirk pressed to your side like an oddly comforting, coiled spring. You watch the downtown area fade into rows of houses and then into wide stretches of lawn. Mount Lee rises up behind the suburbs like a gentle giant curled up in sleep. You may have been exaggerating a bit when you called it treacherous earlier.

 

The bus lets you off at the foot of the mountain and you quickly orient yourself and your hiking partner with the map you brought, setting off for one of the medium-difficulty trails. You’re sure both of you are more than up to the challenge of Mount Lee’s steepest climbs, but this is supposed to be a celebration of sorts, and the best scenery happens to be along your route.

 

“Let’s see… It’s about ten now. We should reach the overlook by noon and then we can sit ourselves down for a right little picnic!” You stuff the map into your pocket and lead the way into the trees. Dirk hums in agreement behind you and follows. It’s pleasantly cool beneath the canopy and you hike in silence, enjoying the sounds of the woods and only rarely pausing to greet a fellow hiker. By noon, the trees start thinning out and you know you’re nearing the beautiful overlook where you’ll be having lunch.

 

You emerge from the trees into a little grassy clearing with a few picnic tables and gratefully shift your pack off. On your right is the overlook, lightly disguised by a few bushes and sprays of yellow and white wildflowers, though marked with a sign for the unwary. Dirk takes a moment to walk over to the drop-off and takes a good look at the view.

 

“You can see pretty much the entire campus from up here,” he says. “There’s our dorm… there’s the robotics lab… I wonder if Roxy’s awake yet. Could probably see her, too, what with that bright pink dress she just bought.”

 

“We can take some photographs after lunch,” you suggest, “but right now I’m plumb starved! Come help me with this, would you?”

 

“Sure, babe.” He comes over to where you’ve already started spreading paper plates on one of the tables and starts to unload his share of the food. “Man, you made sandwiches and everything. Remind me to take you out to dinner sometime to th- hh Hh-ttch! To thank you.” He raises a hand and gives his nose a quick rub.

 

“Bless you. And you can take me out whenever you like.” You lean across the table and give Dirk a peck on the cheek. He smiles and then starts unwrapping a turkey sandwich. You sit down across from him and go after one of the salami ones. “We haven’t gone to that diner place that opened last month downtown… You know, the one with the Hollywood theme?” You eye him hopefully.

 

Dirk shakes his head and swallows. “No way. I’m not spending an evening in that hell hole.”

 

“Hell hole!”

 

He chuckles at your outrage, the bastard. “Phony celebrities in roller skates and the Indiana Jones theme song playing continuously in the background for two hours? Hell hole. We can go to the steakhouse, though. I remember you liked that one when we went last year. Too bad it’s so damn expensive or I’d take you more often. Well. I can make a reservation when we geh- hih-” He drops his sandwich to his plate and covers his mouth just in time to catch the second sneeze of the day. “Huh-ittsch!”

 

You blink. “Bless you! Are you feeling under the weather?” Dirk rarely gets sick, and as a result you rarely hear him sneeze. Twice in one day is almost unprecedented. You give him a quick onceover, brow creasing slightly in concern.

 

He sniffs a bit this time, but just ends up shrugging. “I’m fine. Must just be a weird day…” He picks his sandwich up again and finishes it without incident. Although you try to see through any lies he might be telling for reasons of his foolish Strider pride, he doesn’t look unwell. You’re forced to concede that it is possible that Dirk Strider sneezed twice in one day purely by coincidence.

 

---

 

After you’ve devoured a few more sandwiches, some dried fruit and trail mix, and a package of M&Ms between you, you feel ready to move on. Dirk bags up the rubbish securely and ditches it in one of the sturdy, bear-proof bins to the side of the picnic area while you retie your hiking boots, and then you’re off! Well, almost.

 

“The photographs!” you exclaim, as you’re about to head back into the woods. “I did say we would snap a few by the overlook, didn’t I? Now where is that dadblasted camera?” You poke through your pack for it.

 

“Oh yeah.” Dirk puts his pack down, too, then holds a hand out. “Give it to me and I’ll take one of you with the campus in the background. How very college student of you. You can print it out and frame it next to your degree in your inevitable future history professor office.”

 

You chuckle. “I don’t know why you’re so hung-up on this history professor thing after I told you I was going to be an archaeologist. Hot for teacher? Aha!” You pull out the camera bag and, after checking that the batteries still work, hand the slim digital device over to your roommate.

 

“You can’t prove anything.” He fiddles with the settings for a moment as you find a good place to stand and pose. “Okay, yeah, that’s good. Why don’t you stick your foot up on that boulder like some kind of conqueror? Perfect.” He smirks and raises the device. “Alright, say- hih Hehk-tcuhh!” It’s a miracle he doesn’t drop the camera, pitching as he does to the side. He doesn’t have time to cover the sneeze and you can see the spray in the sunlight.

 

“Dirk?”

 

He shakes his head before giving in to another sneeze, this time concealed by a hand. “Hktccshh!”

 

“Bless you! Are you sure you’re not sick?” You hurry over and try to feel his forehead, but he ducks away from your reach, hand still covering his face.

 

“M’ fine. I just…” He hands you the camera and digs around in his pocket, pulling out a napkin left over from lunch and then blowing his nose. Afterward, he makes a bit of a face, wipes his hand on his pants, and throws the napkin away. “I might be allergic to all this fine mountain air,” he says, sniffling.

 

He doesn’t escape this time and you lay the back of your hand against his face. “Mountain air is supposed to be good for you,” you say. He doesn’t feel any warmer than he should. “Do you have hayfever?”

 

“Not really. I’m not usually bothered unless I’m around fresh-cut hay.” He turns his face and presses a kiss to your hand before hoisting the camera again. “Come on, are we doing this?”

 

You return to the boulder, resume your pose, and take some pictures. After that, it’s time for you to head on if you want to reach the campsite before it starts getting dark. Dirk leads the way back onto the trail, no longer sneezing, but sniffing every so often and rubbing his nose. You really hope he’s okay, but you know if you continue to make a big deal about it, he’ll bite your head off. Damn stubborn Striders…

 

---

 

There's the end of Part 1! I'll post the others in a bit.

Edited February 16, 2016 by LeapYearKisses

[4000tacobells]

Oh man. Oh boy howdy this is so perfect I am sobbing. Thank you so, so much! Gosh darn and it's a college AU, those are the best. Gah! I can't even make a vaguely coherent comment right now I'm so sorry.

Times fallen off my bed while reading: 2

Times broken out in goosebumps: 1

Times having had to get up and walk around while holding my face and grinning: ∞

In summary, this is perfect, you are perfect, life is beautiful. Thank youuuu <3

[SpookyScarySkeleton]

<3 oh man I love this. I'll have to get started on homestuck after I finish Hetalia and start soul eater. Such a plan but so little time. Can't wait for the second part !

[LeapYearKisses]

@4000tacobells: Awww, I'm glad you like it so much! Hope you didn't hurt yourself rolling off the bed, though!

 

@DNO: You've got a lot of reading ahead of you! But it will definitely be worth it. Thank you!

Here's part two! I'm terrible at waiting to post stuff. Also, I guess this is the last part, because it didn't break up like I imagined it and there's really nothing to do about that.

 

---

 

--> Be the stubborn Strider.

 

The trail Jake has picked for your end-of-term walk is a good one, mixing steep patches with easy ambles and lots of pretty scenery. Although you spend most of the time watching Jake. Even when he’s not talking and is just appreciating the forest ambiance, his enjoyment is clear in his face. He looks almost radiant, out here in nature, and you’d think that was much more interesting than a bunch of plants any day.

 

You wish you knew which plant in particular was causing you pause, though. You won’t admit it to Jake, but ever since you stopped for lunch, your nose has been itching like crazy. Even now, a few hours later, the urge to sneeze hasn’t really abated. You’re just really fucking good at holding it back, now that you know it’s there. But it’s driving you to distraction. Also, your nose is starting to run. You hope Jake can’t hear you sniffling over the crunch of your footsteps on the forest floor…

 

The light slanting through the trees up ahead is turning orange as the daylight starts to fade and covering both of you with a crazy pattern of tiger stripes. Jake stops to consult the map and smiles when he finds your position by nearby blazes. “The campsite’s just around the corner,” he says, pointing ahead past a moss-covered bluff. “Race you!” He starts jogging down the trail, pack bumping at his back, laughing like the idiot he is.

 

You start after him at a more sedate pace, afraid that if you abandon yourself in the chase, you’ll only end up embarrassing yourself. As it is, it’s terribly difficult to wait until he’s passed the bluff and left your sight to blow your nose in one of the remaining napkins you salvaged. It feels wonderful to finally clear out some of the crap from your sinuses, but it quickly becomes clear that there’s a lot more crap than napkin. You should have done this earlier.

 

“Dirk?”

 

You start slightly, shoving the soiled napkin into your pocket and subtly wiping your fingers on your pantleg. “Yeah?”

 

“Are you coming?” He looks vaguely concerned again. Fuck.

 

“My shoelace was untied.” You hurry to meet him. “I think that gives you an unfair advantage in this race.” You need to blow your nose again.

 

He smiles. “You should have said something, chap! Anyway, I’ve found us a good spot.” He heads back around the bluff and you have to go with him.

 

The campground is laid out circularly with a fire pit at the center. There’s already a small pile of firewood beside it, indicating the presence of other campers, but you guess they must have been here earlier because you and Jake are the only ones in the clearing. On the far side of the clearing, a small dirt track leads away, to the campsite facilities, you presume, while the trail continues upward beside it. Jake has picked a spot on the left, in the shade of a massive maple tree. He’s set his pack down and pulled out the tent already.

 

“Do you need help with that?” you ask, hoping he’ll say no. Your nose has started itching intensely and it’s taking all your willpower not to let it show on your face.

 

“Nah, I think I’ve got it under wraps. Would you mind grabbing some more firewood? I think we might need a bit more than what was left.”

 

You shake your head and manage to get a fair distance into the woods before the urge to sneeze completely overwhelms you. “Heh-ittsch! Hettsch! Hittschh!” You direct them toward the ground, mentally grimacing at the sound of the spray hitting dead leaves at your feet. There’s a thin but growing trail of mucus on your upper lip, too. When you’ve regained your senses, you scrub at it half-heartedly with the last napkin you have left.

 

Clearly you’re having an allergic reaction to something, given the frequency and intensity of your expulsions, but you’re at a loss as to what. A couple of times back in Texas you’d had to take pills, if the wind was strong or you’d been on a trip out of the city, but so far since moving to New England you’d been fine. You lean back against a tree and let your eyes slip shut as you give in yet again, brain working futilely. “Hh-ettsch! Hhh… hih- Hhh-ittschu!”

 

You have to hide this from Jake, somehow. You don’t want him feeling guilty about dragging you out here, even though logically, neither of you knew this was going to happen. You would also rather not be the subject of his sympathetic puppy eyes. It’s cute, but it doesn’t do much for your pride.

 

You pinch your nose sharply to stifle the next volley and straighten up. There’s no way you’re going to let your body overcome your willpower. You use a corner of your shirt to clear your face, then start collecting the firewood that Jake had sent you out for in the first place. For the most part, you manage to keep the itch in check, only sneezing a few times. Nonetheless, you’re in a terrible mood when you return to the campsite, and suffering from a burgeoning headache as well.

 

---

 

---> Be Jake again, because this is a transition. : P

 

When Dirk comes back with his arms full of firewood, you’re all done setting up the tent and your bedrolls and have unpacked your dinner. It’s mostly tinned beans and some bangers you’re looking forward to roasting right up, but you don’t think camping food really needs to be all that dramatic as long as it tastes all right. Dirk watches without speaking as you make the campfire just as your Nanna taught you, lost in thought behind reflective lenses.

 

He doesn’t talk much at all during dinner either, and you’re ashamed of yourself that you don’t notice sooner that he’s rather upset – it takes him shooting down campfire songs, ghost stories, and even (though it’s not yet fully dark) sex before you cotton on. You don’t suppose it’s something you’ve done, but his unwillingness to answer a careful probe or two as to the reason rubs you the wrong way, and soon you’re both sitting by the fire in sullen silence. Finally, you’ve had enough.

 

“I’m going to go hike up a bit farther, see if I can find a spot to stargaze,” you say, standing up from the picnic table you were sitting at by yourself. “I don’t think I’ll be long.” At the other table across the firepit, Dirk shrugs minutely. “It’s not really dark yet, but my Nanna always used to say that the Batterwitch comes for the idle.” He shrugs again. “Okay then!”

 

You leave Dirk to his sulking and head off down the trail with a flashlight. It doesn’t take you too long to find a good grassy hill to occupy under a bit of a gap in the canopy. You plunk yourself down, cross your arms, and sigh. It’s still just a bit too bright for the earliest stars to be out, so you content yourself with counting the little white flowers that are growing nearby in the brush, each like a star in miniature. They’re quite pretty. Maybe you’ll pick a few and take them home with you, stick ‘em in a solo cup on your windowsill for a day or two before you fly out for the summer.

 

You forget about your bad mood after the sunlight fades away, leaving only a dark tapestry speckled with nature’s finest jewels. When you were a young child, your Nanna used to take you out to the beach (if there weren’t any infernal goatdads rampaging nearby) and teach you the constellations, the both of you lying close on a blanket in the sand. The sky is a little different up here, but away from the town the stars are the same brilliant spectacle as on your isolated island home.

 

By your watch, it’s past ten when you start back for the camp, covering a yawn. It’s been a long day. You hope Dirk’s fallen asleep, or at least in a more companionable mood. You’re too tired to scrap with him now. You step from the trail into the campground clearing and then immediately drop your flashlight at a sudden, loud noise. It bounces once and rolls into the shrubbery, leaving you momentarily blind.

 

“Dirk?” You put up your dukes in case there’s some sort of bugaboo waiting in the darkness, blinking furiously until you can once again make out shapes. There’s no monster coming at you, not even a wayward owl. There’s just the campsite, the pile of firewood, and your tent, illuminated faintly from the inside. Your roommate’s silhouette stretches across the polyester wall and you realize the noise you heard was him sneezing as he does it again, shadow pitching forward.

 

“Heh-ittsch! Hihkssch! Hettsch!” They sound desperate and wet and there’s a moment afterward where you can hear him catching his breath. Without thinking, you grab your flashlight and hurry across the clearing, unzipping the tent with speed born of worry.

 

“Cripes, chap, are you all right?” you gasp, poking your head in. You bite your lip when you see him, since he looks awful. His sunglasses have been discarded and you can see that his amber eyes are rimmed with red. His nose bears a matching scarlet hue and is running rather badly. Even his posture telegraphs discomfort, hunched as he is in the corner of the tent, though that might be more from the chill in the air: although his legs are wrapped in an orange sleeping bag, he’s not wearing a shirt. Moments after you burst in, he raises the garment, clutched in his hands, to his face, shielding your view.

 

“I’m fine,” he says, or tries to. It doesn’t sound much like that through the congestion. You raise an incredulous eyebrow and climb into the tent, zipping it behind you.

 

“No you’re not. Let’s cut the flimflam, shall we?” You sit next to him, on top of your own sleeping bag. “I’m not going to make fun of you, you know! Enough with your dadblasted shenanigans and tell me what’s wrong. Are you sick?”

 

He hesitates, but then shakes his head grudgingly. “No, it’s allergies. I’ve been having trouble since lunch.” He flushes suddenly and drops his gaze as he blows his nose in his shirt. “I ran out of napkins,” he mumbles, and you have to fight off a confused wave of secondhand embarrassment mixed with affection. You don’t like it when Dirk is unhappy, but you have to admit it’s kind of nice to be the one who gets to take care of things for once.

 

“Fear not!” you proclaim, producing a checkered pocket square from about your person. “This should do the trick better than your poor old T-shirt!” You hold it out to him and he takes it with the reluctant bad grace of a Strider seen straight through.

 

“Thanks,” he says to the ground, then lifts it to muffle another round of sneezing. “Httsch! Httsch! Hih-kttsch!”

 

One handkerchief might not be enough, you think, but you’ll jump that hurdle when you come to it. Right now, there are other problems to take care of. “Bless you,” you say, pulling over your bag and rummaging through it. You find what you’re looking for toward the bottom and excavate it triumphantly – a soft, long-sleeved shirt you’d brought along in case it rained and the air went damp. “Put this on, love; you’ll feel better.”

 

He does as he’s told without fussing, and though the shirt is a bit tight through the shoulders, it fits him well enough to be comfortable. You decide you like it when Dirk wears your clothes.

 

“Sorry for earlier,” he says, bumping your shoulder with his. “I was being kind of a dick.”

 

“Yes, you were,” you reply, taking off your shoes in preparation of inhabiting your own sleeping bag beside his, “but you’re not well. And I wasn’t helping.” You lay down and tug Dirk with you; the tent is just large enough to hold you both comfortably if you lie a little bit diagonal. “I’m sorry I dragged you out here among all the mysterious allergens of Mount Lee.”

 

Dirk sighs. “No, see, I knew you were going to say that and I was trying to avoid it. I wanted to come. And I was hh- hih- having a good time… Hihk-tssch! Hrttsch! Hutscch!” Once again, the handkerchief comes up to stem the incessant tide. You pat Dirk’s knee.

 

“Bless you, love. Here, why don’t we go to sleep? You look exhausted and I doubt you’ll be able to sneeze while exploring the vast reaches of Dreamland.”

 

“You’re so fucking weird,” Dirk mutters, giving his nose a gurgling blow. He puts his head down on the travel pillow you packed for him and then curls on his side. You scoot in to spoon him, wrapping an arm around his middle. Cuddling, although one of your favorite things to do, had never been a staple of your relationship, even after you started a romantic thingamajig, but you’re not completely oblivious and you’ve picked up a few things: Dirk, usually a raging insomniac, always sleeps a lot better with you curled up beside him. You hope it will help him now.

 

Fortunately, it seems that it does, for twenty minutes after you turn out the small lantern, he’s snoring softly in your embrace.

 

---

 

The next morning you extricate yourself from the tent, leaving Dirk snuffling distressingly inside, and pull out your cell phone. Before you went to college, your Nanna did something remarkable to it and now it’s a hell of a lot better at picking up signals than the majority of phones on campus. You use it to give Jane a ring and it isn’t long before she’s agreeing to drive up the mountain and meet you at the top, only twenty minutes or so up the trail. You’ve told her about Dirk’s predicament and you both agree that this is a better plan than trying to hike down the mountain with him in such discomfort.

 

You try to pack up around him without waking him up, but you end up dropping your miniature frying pan outside the tent and he starts up inside with a paroxysm of coughing. He doesn’t let you rub his back, though you want to, claiming it’s just congestion and a nasty postnasal drip. You hang around and apologize instead.

 

“Come on, Jake, I was getting up anyway… Don’t get your shorts in a twist.” His voice is starting to go hoarse and he sniffles before scowling and raising his hands. “Hukksch! Huh-ettsch!” That sets his nose to running again, and he wearily grabs your handkerchief, crumpled, from the floor of the tent. “What time is it? Are we headed out?”

 

“In just a bit, yes.” You secure your frying pan. “Jane’s driving up to get us and don’t you dare complain.” You give him a look, but he just looks wanly back.

 

“I won’t. Huh-ttscuh!”

 

“Bless you.”

 

He helps you pack everything up and then follows you through the woods to the top of the mountain and the waiting departure zone. The view from the top is pretty amazing, but you don’t bother Dirk to come see it. He’s sat himself on a large rock and I staring into space, trying not to sneeze and tending gingerly to his inflamed nose. You almost take a picture of him, only because it’s the first time you’ve seen him look so vulnerable, but you know that if he ever found out about it he’d never trust you again. You worked hard to earn that trust and the camera stays in your bag.

 

When Jane arrives you realize she’s not alone, since Roxy practically explodes out of the car before its even parked. “Dirk!” she cries, running over to the rock and throwing her arms around his neck. “Janey told me you weren’t feelin’ so hot. We grabbed some pills for you in the car, though.”

 

“Thanks.” He pats her shoulder and then sort-of pushes her off so he can stand. Jane has already come over and claimed his pack.

 

“It’s not a problem!” she says, carrying it to the boot of the car. “Hop in the back there and Roxy’ll get them out for you. Roxy, would you mind terribly- Yes, thank you, hon.”

 

The four of you pile into the car – girls in front, guys in back – and the car pulls out of the parking lot as Dirk swallows a few bright pink allergy pills. Jane and Roxy are studiously not commenting on Dirk’s rough appearance, instead arguing light-heartedly over what music to listen to, and you tune them out a bit.

 

“Once we get back, you can have a nice long shower and go straight to bed,” you say.

 

“Sounds divine,” Dirk replies, leaning his head against your shoulder. You break into a smile at this, which intensifies after he reaches for your hand. “Then when I wake up, I’ll make reservations for the steakhouse.”

 

“We’ll see.” You run a thumb over his knuckles fondly. “Maybe tomorrow, when you’re feeling better.”

 

With a small sigh, he concedes the point and reaches forward to change the radio station.

 

---

 

The end! Hope you enjoyed it.

Edited February 16, 2016 by LeapYearKisses

[4000tacobells]

UUUHHGGG so cuuute. I love it so much <3

[SpookyScarySkeleton]

Awwwwe yes more more more a sneezy date next up ~ <3 this is TOO cute <3

[squealofapproval]

Every single bit of it!

The way Jake talks, Dirk's allergies, the friends-with-benefits thing.

OMFG!

[LeapYearKisses]

@4000tacobells: I'm so glad! Thank you for writing for me!

@DNO: Ahaha, thanks! That's so flattering. Maybe if I get inspired I'll come back, but I've already started another project, haha.

@Awko: Thank you so much!

[Secret Sneezer]

Omg, so cute! I adore how Jake takes care of Dirk, and the setting and story are beautiful! you did a great job!