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Three years into the apocalypse and there’s still so much they don’t know about each other.
Now, to be fair, you could know someone forever and never know every inch of what makes them who they are. Just look at Quint and Jack. They’d been friends for nearly a decade, having met in elementary school, and there were still things that surprised Quint about his friend. Surely, that went both ways.
So, the fact that Dirk Savage and his life were still such a mystery to the little nerd wasn’t really all that surprising… right?
Well, let’s look at the facts, shall we?
Quint met Dirk in the sixth grade, after the larger boy had turned up out of the blue in the middle of the fall semester. As Quint remembered, there had been rumors circulating about Dirk almost immediately. Some said he was from Detroit, and had been sent to Wakefield by his parents as punishment for some horrible deed (which, interestingly enough, seemed to become more horrible with each telling…). Others suggested that Dirk didn’t even have parents, instead having been raised by his uncle (who, depending on the teller, was either a gang leader or a military officer…). To this day, Quint honestly had no idea what information, if any, had been true about the intimidating boy, because not long after his appearance, he had selected Quint as his chew toy. Between the stolen lunch money, the routine locker entrapments, and the less common but still horrible wedgies, the idea of engaging Dirk with a friendly, “Hey! So where are you from, anyways?”, hadn’t been at the top of Quint’s to-do list.
However, you’d expect over time, other people – people who weren’t actively being terrorized, for example - would eventually get bored with making up rumours and start actually getting to know the guy, right?
Wrong.
For as far back as Quint could remember, he had never known Dirk to have any friends. At the time, he hadn’t thought anything of it. The guy was huge, mean and scary-looking. Why would anyone risk hanging around that. However, in hindsight, it was actually pretty strange. There had been other bullies in Wakefield. Plenty of them. If one considered the old proverb “Birds of a feather…”, you’d think at least some of those shady characters would have tried to make friends with the big kid on the block. Yet… they hadn’t. At least as far as Quint could recall.
Very interesting indeed.
Ultimately, the point remains that no one had ever gotten close enough to Dirk to get to know him, so there had never been anyone around to ask for confirmation on any hearsay that was bouncing around.
All this to say that Quint had known two things for certain about Dirk leading up to the apocalypse:
- He was not originally raised in Wakefield (duh)
- He was not Quint’s friend
Which… really not much to go on.
Since then, in those three years of struggling to survive after the end of the world, Quint had learned so much about the larger boy. The first being that Dirk was actually incredibly resourceful. Quint couldn’t even begin to list the number of times said resourcefulness had saved their butts. Dirk also knew a great deal about gardening, nutrition and cooking, all of which was immensely helpful to their cause. From a personality standpoint, he actually had a great sense of humour. He enjoyed and was good at ping pong (very important). He was fiercely protective of Quint and the others. He was strong, and kind and had really nice eyes when the light hit them right…
Shoot, getting off track.
So yes, Quint knew a great deal about the Dirk he had met, and now lived with, post-apocalypse.
But… he still knew nothing about the Dirk that had existed before.
And this thought was hammered home more than ever in this particular moment.
Quint held his breath as he watched from around a tree, trying desperately not to be noticed. He wasn’t here on purpose, honestly. He hadn’t realized when he’d left base camp that his larger friend was already here.
Dirk was several yards away, having waded a few feet into a stream they all used frequently for bathing purposes. It was relatively secluded (not that there were many people around to worry about…), and the water always seemed warmer than other water sources they’d scouted in the past. The larger boy (nearly a man now, Quint thought with a bite of his lip) had stripped off and was just started to run water over his chest and back. It was this action that had directed Quint’s focus to a very particular mark that sat between Dirk’s shoulder blades.
It was a large section of discoloured skin, bearing an almost purple-reddish hue. Even from this distance, Quint’s educated eyes could see the raised texture of scar tissue.
Now, it needs to be said that this was not entirely surprising on its own. Each of them bore the scars of their survival all over their bodies. From acid burns and crisscrossing scratch marks gained from monster fights to the dark circles around eyes from lack of sleep, they each bore their scars like badges of honour.
No, the fact that Dirk had a scar was not surprising.
The fact that this one was shaped like a boot-print, was.
It was at that moment that Quint decided it was time to go. Some inner voice was screaming at him that he was not meant to see that. Sure, Dirk had never seemed body shy in the past, but if even after all this time Quint had somehow missed such a large scar, it could only be because the other boy had been trying to hide it. Just as Quint turned to rush out of the area as quickly and quietly as possible, he remembered one crucial issue:
Quint is not a quiet person. In fact, he is loudly clumsy.
Which was proven four seconds later as he tripped over a tree root and face planted into a thorn bush.
“Ahhhhh.” He couldn’t help the yelp he released upon impact. With a groan, he pushed himself up onto his elbows, shaking his head. Just as he was about to gather himself for a proper retreat, he heard a voice.
“Quint?”
Quint’s heart dropped. He tried to decide if it was worth pretending he wasn’t there or not. Unfortunately, the decision was taken out of his hands when Dirk himself, clad in nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around his waist, brushed the leaves out of the way and looked in on Quint’s sprawled figure.
“Uh… Hello Dirk.” Quint waved sheepishly. Dirk raised an eyebrow.
“Quint, what are you doing in a thorn bush?”
Hmmm… what would make a good excuse? Think Quint, think.
No Quint, stop looking at Dirk’s chest hair. Quint.
What he came up with was, “Uhhhhhh…”
Just as Quint felt a raging blush working its way up his neck to his cheeks, Dirk raised his eyebrows.
“Wait… were you… watching me…?” Dirk stuttered out, his own cheeks growing flushed. Finally Quint’s brain came back online.
“No! No I was just… I was walking by!” Quint squeaked struggling to his knees, forcing his eyes to meet the taller boy’s stare, “I was going take a bath, as well, but then I saw that you were here and I- “ Quint finished with a frantic gesture at his current predicament.
“So you saw I was here and ran into a rose bush?” Dirk said, this time crossing his arms.
“No! I was just going to leave and come back when I tripped and fell!” Quint squeaked out, shrinking back under the taller boy’s scrutiny. After several tense moments with the boys staring back at each other, Dirk shrugged.
“Okay, whatever you say, dude.” Then he pointed at Quint’s hands, “You want help getting those thorns out or are you just gonna keep bleeding all over the place?
At this Quint startled, looking down at his hands. Turning them over, he saw thin streams of blood coating his fingers. Dirk snorted as he yelped in pain.
“Alright, pipsqueak, common.” With that, Dirk turned and started back towards the stream. With only a moment of hesitation, Quint stood up (very carefully) and followed.
When they reached the raised bank around the water, Dirk sat himself down, allowing his feet to rest in the water. At Quint’s hesitation, Dirk gestured to the space beside him.
“Well, common and sit down.”
At the larger boy’s request, Quint does exactly that, gingerly rolling up his pants to the knee before carefully settling down beside Dirk.
“Give me a hand.” Dirk said. Quint brought his closest hand up, presenting it to the larger boy, who took between his own. Together they rinsed away the drying blood, before Dirk brought the hand back to begin pinpointing the thorns that were still embedded in Quint’s dark sin. He worked in focused silence for several moments, all the while Quint couldn’t help feeling severely unbalanced by the gentle care the larger boy was showing his injured hands. It was a feeling Quint was starting to become very well-acquainted with while in Dirk’s presence.
“Man, you really got yourself good.” Dirk grumbled, finally breaking the silence. He turned Quint’s hand to focus on his thumb, where several fresh streams of blood had begun running down to the pad, “Next time you’re running away, could you try to fall in, like… any other kind of bush?” Quint bristled.
“I was not running away.” Dirk snorted.
“Sure.” Dirk said sarcastically. Quint stiffened again, feeling affronted enough that he almost pulled away completely. He didn’t want Dirk to think he had been spying on him, or encroaching on his privacy… but… Dirk didn’t actually seem too upset by the prospect. If Dirk really thought that Quint was watching him bathe like a creep, and was still willing to sit and pick out each thorn the clumsy nerd had stabbed into himself one by one…
Maybe, Quint had been running away.
Maybe it was time to stop.
“I have a confession to make.” Quint said quietly, barely above a whisper. Dirk clearly wasn’t expecting much from the nerd, startling at his voice and looking up. When he didn’t say anything, Quint continued. “I did not come to spy on you, I really was only coming to bathe on my own when I saw you here.” Quint squirmed uncomfortably, “But… I admit, I was trying to run away, when I fell.” At this, Dirk finally spoke up.
“Yeah, I know. You’re not a good liar.” Dirk stated flatly, turning back to his work on Quint’s hand, “What I don’t get is why you got so freaked out.” He grumbled.
At this, Quint hesitated again. That voice in his head that had told him earlier that the scar was none of his business was still ringing loud and clear. Yet… Dirk had proven again and again that he was not the two dimensional, gruff character Quint had decided him to be when they were children. Perhaps now was the time to step up and get to know him, the way no one else had been willing to in their youth. After one more breath, Quint made up his mind.
“I… I saw your scar.” Quint stuttered out. Dirk stopped his ministrations, looking up once again at the smaller boy, this time in confusion.
“Dude, I have tons of scars, we all do. You’re gonna have to be more specific.”
“I mean the one in the middle of your back.” Quint said carefully. Again, Dirk just looked at him in confusion. Quint huffed, becoming exasperated, “The one shaped like a boot!”
Finally, Dirk seemed to understand. Quint suddenly felt nervous again, waiting to see whether he had been right about overstepping the other boy’s boundaries. Instead, Dirk just chuckled.
“Ohhh, that old thing. That’s what made you freak out?” At Quint’s confused nod, Dirk snorted again, “That’s dumb, you’ve seen it before.”
“No I haven’t!” Quint was quick to cut in. Dirk raised an eyebrow.
“How could you not? I literally spent all of the summer seasons at the treehouse working in the garden with my shirt off.”
“I just… never noticed, I suppose.” Quint shrugged, starting to feel silly, “I was worried you did not want us to know about it.”
“That’s why you ran off? You thought I would be mad at you for seeing a scar?” At Dirk’s tone, Quint pulled his hand back, turning away with a huff.
“I was trying to be considerate.” Quint tried to refrain from pouting like a child, but couldn’t quite keep it at bay, “It seemed like something personal to you.” Quint just barely saw Dirk shrug in his periphery.
“Ehn, maybe at one point I would’ve cared, but that’s some seriously old news.” The taller boy said, reaching out to take Quint’s hand once again, “I honestly forgot it was there.”
This peaked Quint’s curiosity. Why did that feel like an opening?
“So… You’ve had it for a long time?” Quint asked quietly, still airing on the side of caution. Dirk clearly sensed his hesitance, smirking at the smaller boy.
“Dude, are you seriously tip-toeing around me right now?” Dirk shook his head, looking back to his work, “If you want to know something, ask. I’m not gonna bite your head off just ‘cause you care.”
At this, Quint suddenly looked at everything he had ever thought about Dirk in a very different light. Had people not gotten close to Dirk simply because they… didn’t care? Had no one ever learned the truth about him simply because they hadn’t ever bothered to ask?
Had Dirk been… Lonely?
Quint, shook himself. Either way, that was all in the past. In the present, Dirk had just given him explicit permission to ask him about potentially personal topics.
“Alright, if you are certain.” Quint said, straightening up slightly, “I want to know what caused that scar.”
“Wow, starting off with a bang then.” Dirk chuckled, meeting Quint’s gaze with his glistening green eyes, “Alright, hope you’re ready to be uncomfortable. It’s not a nice story.
“When I was ten, my parent’s died in a car-accident.” At Quint’s wince, Dirk held up a hand, “Honestly, save the reactions ‘till the end or this will take all day.” At Quint’s nod, he continued, “Yeah, it sucked. My sister and I were left on our own out of nowhere. Cops and social workers came barging in to tell our parents were dead, we were gonna have to move, yadda, yadda, yadda.” At this point, Dirk gestured for Quint’s second hand, forcing the smaller boy to lean closer. “Our parents didn’t really have much money put away for us, guess they weren’t good savers, so we were sent off to live with whatever relatives were willing to deal with us. At first, it was my dad’s parents, but they were really old. Within a year they were going senile and we had to be sent off somewhere else. We ended up at my mom’s sister’s place for a bit, but she has like… four kids of her own, so it just… wasn’t gonna work.” This time, Dirk himself winced, “She really seemed like she cared, but she was overwhelmed. Honestly, I’m amazed we were there as long as we were. After that, we were starting to run out of options. In the end, they decided to split us up. They sent my sister to live with another aunt in New York somewhere, and I was sent to live with my dad’s brother in Wakefield.”
At this Quint couldn’t help butting in.
“Wait… why wouldn’t they send you both to live with your Uncle?” Quint asked. Dirk seemed to think about this for a moment, as though trying to pick his words carefully.
“Honestly, I’m still not entirely sure.” Dirk admitted, “But… I know why I think they did it.”
At Quint’s concerned look, Dirk shrugged.
“Honestly, social workers are bastards. They do their best at first, but if you’re a recurring problem, they eventually stop caring and just want to get you out of their hair. I was sent to my uncle because my aunt’s a sexist bitch who didn’t want me, and my sister was sent to my aunt because my uncle’s an abusive asshole, and she was younger. They were more worried about her than me.” Dirk grumbled, “I guess the social workers figured they’d done the best they could since neither of us ended up in foster care, but… fuck.” At this Dirk paused to swipe a hand through his hair. It took all of Quint’s will power not to reach out to comfort the taller boy, but he didn’t want to interrupt. After a moment, Dirk went back to treating Quint’s hand and continued his story. “I lived with him for a few months before I started school. Don’t know why it took so long to get all the paper work sorted out. Guess it was all just a mess. Wouldn’t be surprised if my uncle fucked shit up on purpose.” He turned Quint’s hand over, running gentle fingers over the skin in search of more thorns, “He would have me working all hours around the house. If he saw me sitting around, he’d beat the shit out of me. He owned a restaurant, too, so a lot of the time he’d have me running around the kitchen doing odd jobs just so he wouldn’t have to pay someone else to do it.”
“That is illegal!” Quint gasped, unable to contain himself.
“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, pipsqueak.” Dirk said with a wry chuckle, “Pretty sure he should’ve been done in for tax evasion and petty theft, too, but he always got away with it.” He dunked Quint’s hand back into the stream, rinsing off any fresh blood, “When I was finally settled in school, things were better. I wasn’t home as much so I didn’t have to spend all day just trying not to piss him off. Guess I took a lot of my shit out on you though.” Dirk said quietly, running his fingers across the tiny cuts one more time, cleaning them as best he could.
“That is in the past.” Quint said equally quietly. Dirk looked up at him, green eyes glinting in the afternoon light. Quint could see so much in those eyes. The pain of what he’d been through. The regret of what he’d done.
“Yeah, I know. But I know I left scars of my own on you, even if they’re not visible.” Dirk admitted, releasing Quint’s de-thorned hand. There was a pang of disappointment at the loss of contact. “Anyway, the scar you were so worried about happened one day when I got in a fight a school. Some kid had been spreading rumours that I was some kind of childhood gang leader and I was fuckin’ over it. Nearly got expelled though, which meant my uncle had to take time off to meet with the principal. When we got home, he beat me ‘till I was face down on the ground, planted his foot on me to hold me down, took a lit cigarette and traced his boot with it.”
Quint gasped, eyes tearing up at the imagery. Dirk sighed, scratching at his neck.
“Yeah, I know. It was pretty messed up. I was pretty damn careful after that. Kept my head down, mostly, though I guess I still let loose on you sometimes. I tried to be careful about that, too, at least enough not to get caught. Wish I could’ve been less of a dick though.” He sighed rubbing, his hands down his face. For a moment, they both sat in silence, each absorbing everything that was left hanging in the air. Surprisingly, Quint broke the silence. Gently, the smaller boy reached out hand to lay on Dirk’s shoulder.
“I am so sorry that happened to you.” Quint whispered, his throat tight and eyes wet. Dirk looked up, and seeing the tears in Quint’s eyes, was quick to react.
“Awww, don’t do that. I meant it when I said it was old news.” Dirk said gently, reaching one hand up to cover Quint’s where it lay and the other to brush away the spilled tears. Instead of quelling Quint’s emotions, they seemed to worsen.
“You were just a child.” Quint gasped, trying to hold back a sob and ultimately failing. Dirk’s amusement faded completely, instead shifting to concern as Quint began crying in earnest.
“Hey, hey. Quint.” Dirk, not knowing what to do, shifted closer, pulling the smaller boy to his side, “I swear, I’m okay. We’re okay.”
“You suffered so much.” Quint choked out, leaning into Dirk’s embrace, “I never knew. I never knew.”
“You weren’t meant to.” Dirk whispered, rubbing a hand down Quint’s back, “It’s got nothing to do with you. It was bad stuff that happened and it’s over now.” Quint shook his head.
“I wish I had been there for you.” Quint cried softly, “I wish I had known you.”
“I wish I’d let you.” Dirk sighed softly, pain evident in his voice.
They settled into silence after that, with Quint trying to get a handle on his emotions and Dirk comforting him when he failed. It was several minutes before Quint was able to pull away.
“You okay?” Dirk asked, brushing any stray tears away with his large thumbs. This time, Quint giggled.
“You just gave an in-depth retelling of your childhood trauma, and you ask if I am alright?” Quint laughed wetly, “This seems backwards somehow.” Dirk chuckled as well.
“Hey, not my fault you’re a cry-baby.” Dirk teased gently, pulling back slightly, but leaving his hands to rest on Quint’s arms, “But seriously, I know it’s pretty heavy. ‘S why I keep it to myself.”
“You should not have to.” Quint said as sternly as he could between sniffles, “If you ever feel that you need to talk, we are here for you. I am here for you.”
“Thanks Quint. I know.” Dirk said, rubbing gently at Quint’s arms. A lighter silence settled, Quint gazing gently at Dirk as he continued rhythmically brushing at his skin. Just as Quint was falling into a comfortable daze, Dirk spoke up again.
“Hey… Quint?” He said, sounding hesitant.
“Yes, Dirk?”
“Can I… do something?” Dirk said, “This might be shit timing, but, honestly I’m dying here.” This got Quint’s full attention.
“Dirk, what are you talking about?” At this, Dirk moved his hands to grip at the sides of Quint’s jaw.
“Do you trust me?” The larger boy asked, eyes glinting. Quint blinked once, gulped, and then nodded.
He did trust Dirk. He trusted him with his life.
At his nod, Dirk smiled brightly.
Then, a second later, He was kissing him.
Holy shit. Dirk was kissing him.
The tall boy’s lips were gentle as they played over Quint’s own. Dirk’s hands had softened their grip, instead caressing his jaw with large callused fingers. Without a single thought, Quint found his hands moving to the other boy’s neck, reaching around the back of it to pull him closer. Dirk groaned his approval, pressing closer at Quint’s insistence and moving to deepen the kiss. When Quint felt the tall boy’s tongue against the seal of his lips, he followed his body’s instincts, relaxing his jaw and allowing him entrance with a sharp inhale. Quint lost himself to the feeling, to the back and forth of the kiss. It was only when he realized he needed air that he forced them to pull apart.
“Fuck.” Dirk panted, pressing his forehead to Quint’s and feeling the smaller boy nod in breathless agreement. They both took a moment to recover their senses, before Dirk ducked in again, this time with gentle pecks. After a bit more of this, Quint finally regained himself enough to engage, pushing softly at the taller boy until he retreated slightly with a noise of protest.
“Dirk.” Quint struggled to say, as the taller boy littered kisses down his throat.
“Hmm…?” Dirk hummed distractedly.
“Dirk. You are still naked.”
At this, Dirk froze. He pulled back, face aflame.
“Uhhh.” He looked down at himself and the fact that he still wore only his bathing towel. “Right.”
Quint giggled despite his own embarrassment, “Perhaps I should leave you to get dressed.” He said, before preparing to stand. Before he could, Dirk reached out to stop him. Quint looked back at the taller boy, whose brows were suddenly furrowed in concern.
“Wait.” Dirk rushed out, “When you walk away, this doesn’t end does it?”
“What?” Quint asked, honestly confused. Dirk shifted worriedly.
“We’re not pretending… what just happened, didn’t happen, right?” Dirk asked, gesturing between them. After a moment, Quint caught on.
“I was not planning to.” Quint assured, the taller boy, before suddenly getting self-conscious himself. “Is that what you want? To pretend it did n-“
“No.” Dirk was quick to cut in, “No, I want this. I want to do this again.” Dirk said, as though he were confessing a secret he’d been holding for a long time. Quint couldn’t stop his smile.
“Good, it seems that we are on the same page, then.” This time, when Quint went to stand, Dirk let him. “Now hurry up and change. It is my turn to bathe.” Quint turned, preparing to exit the clearing and offer the other boy some privacy.
“Can I stay and watch?” Dirk asked, a sly smirk evident in the sound of his voice.
A second of silence passed, then next thing he knew, Dirk was whipped in the face with his own pants.
Huh, the nerd’s aim was finally getting better.