Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

The Irken Anatomy	By : ladylaguna Category: +G through L > Invader Zim > AU/AR-Alternate Universe-Alternate Reality Views: 4135 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Zim and all related characters - Viacom... All unrelated characters � Jenn L. No profit is gained from this writing.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Dib’s demeanor changed remarkably over the course of their trip. Zim’s helplessness, perhaps, caused him to appear less threatening? The human regularly checked up on him, ensuring he remained comfortable as he healed. In a week’s time, Zim lost the heavier bandaging and could move around on a limited basis.

Despite this, the Irken still spent most of his days trapped within his own mind. Since that first day, Dib offered no more information about himself and Zim did not ask. Truth to tell, he felt incredibly ashamed. Dib cared for him with tenderness and skill, but still kept a professional degree of distance. Zim tried to think back to the old days, remember if this was any sort of improvement…

…and he remembered the period of time they first spent on the Goddess, when Zim had holed himself up in his room away from Dib. Healing on his own, knowing only the touch of machines, because he feared showing weakness. He spent the time alone researching ways to make his mate comfortable, to prove that he could care for Dib no matter what.

After all that… he had become THIS simpering weakling. All for pining over that meat creature.

Pining, alone, while the Dib-human suffered a fate worse than death. A fate that made him WISH for death. Why had Zim given up so easily? That wasn’t like him. That wasn’t strength. That wasn’t behavior befitting a CONQUEROR OF WORLDS.
All these things Zim pondered as Dib changed out his bandaging… Running his fingers idly over so much still-ruined flesh and wincing.

“Dib Creature… you were right.”

“Of course I was,” Dib immediately replied with a grin, though he did not look up from his task. “…about what?”

“I abandoned you,” Zim conceded. His voice betrayed some degree of shame, though it also held a deep conviction that inhibited argument.

Dib, of course, argued anyway. “…that’s a stupid thing to say, Zim. I was being irrational. I could not realistically expect that you should have magically appeared and saved me from my woes.” Though he still did not look up. Really, he’d changed so much since those days. Though he had ached to find someone to blame… at this point, he considered himself completely self-sufficient. Being “saved” by anyone would be completely emasculating.

“And why not?!” Zim retorted. “Don’t you remember? I promised you I would care for you. That you wouldn’t have a worry so long as I lived… I failed you, Dib. ZIM… failed.”

Even though this was exactly what he had wanted to hear all these years, it was just more of the same “woe is me” bullshit Zim had already been stewing in. He had grown sick of it. Finally making eye contact, Dib glared. “I’m an adult now, Zim. I don’t need or want to continue buying into that syrupy, romantic crap that I begged you for so many years ago. I don’t need anybody to protect me. You can’t even take care of yourself.”

“I know,” Zim sighed, shoulders slumping. But he still looked resolute. “…but I can change. I will change. For you. I won’t break my promise to you! Zim is a man of his word.”

Zim had never been a man of his word. That was part of his charm. Sighing, Dib shook his head. But the alien reached out to him, grabbing him hard about the upper arms and hauling him forward. Soon he was in Zim’s embrace… So frail those arms were. But they’d always been frail, Dib realized. Zim’s bravado had been part of the illusion. That illusion of strength. He was the smallest, stupidest, weakest Irken in his entire race… That illusion was how he survived.

Giving in, Dib curled his arms around the alien’s form. As he was sitting atop the examination table, the two of them were nearly the same height. They were equals now, just for this moment.

Dib’s arms tightened reflexively. He heard Zim’s sharp intake of breath. That had hurt… but Zim didn’t dare betray it, his own embrace unwavering.

“Zim…”

…but Dib could think of nothing to say. He felt that old sensation tugging at his heart: Begrudging respect developing for his insufferable rival.
They finally parted, and Zim met his eyes with pride for the first time since this all began.

Dib smiled. A bit wider than he intended to.

Before their arrival on Kharna, Dib informed Ninnehla of Zim’s situation. Thusly, she stood waiting patiently for them when they arrived. Stiffly disembarking, Zim followed Dib down the private hallway on the satellite’s upper level. The place looked nothing like he remembered; leave it to Dib to completely overhaul anything he got his hands on.

“Oh, Lord Zim, it is so wonderful to see you again!”

Ninnehla came floating down the hall, completely aglow, arms outstretched. Zim’s antennae twitched slightly; he’d never adjusted to that whole “telepathic speech” thing they did. “…have we met?” he asked as she stopped before them. He figured he’d remember this floaty, bright blue, dress-bedecked creature.

“She used to be a scientist on Meekrob, Zim. She taught me how to use my powers.”
Finally recalling, Zim jabbed a finger in her direction. “That’s right! You were the funny-looking one.”

“Yes…” Ninn agreed, though her glow faded just a bit.

Feeling embarrassed for the lot of them, Dib blew a piece of wild hair from his eyes and began to pull Zim down the hall.

“Let’s continue this conversation in my chambers… I left a really good bottle of Port in there…”

Past the double doors in the middle of the corridor, they entered Dib’s quarters. The floor plan itself was spacious; larger than Dib’s luxurious ship. Somehow, GIR already sat within, scarfing burritos atop a loveseat. Dib immediately disappeared behind the bar and began to pour as Ninnehla alighted on a stool nearby. Zim followed suit, though his eyes continued to dart around as if he were a frightened rabbit.

“So, Ninn…” Dib began. “Do you have a solution for us?”

Fingers laced, Ninnehla looked to Zim. “Well… after making a comprehensive study of the Irken anatomy and Meekrob healing properties, I think I might have come up with an idea.”

She didn’t look terribly eager to out with it. Zim simply stared at her, mind still taking everything in.

“What we do is we burn away the old skin, layer by layer, and let new skin grow in. It will be a painstaking and painful process… But if we eliminate all the scarring, we can address your joint and muscle issues.”

Grimacing, Zim murmured, “Burn it away?” Shaking his head, he exclaimed, “I can get around just fine.”

“You’re stiff as hell, Zim,” Dib cried. He poked the Irken in the chest and he winced. “You can play at being fine but I know you’re in a world of pain. You don’t rely on your Pak anymore and your body doesn’t know how to cope.”

“After so many years… I’m used to it,” Zim replied, shrinking away from the finger instinctively before remembering himself.

Taking a long drink, face souring from either that or Zim’s reluctance, Dib barked, “I’m not gonna keep taking care of you.” Making sure their eyes met, he brought his voice down slightly. “Do what you want, but my hospitality stops here.”

For a moment, Zim felt as if he were being coerced into this. “You destroy my planet, drag me halfway across the universe, and call it ‘hospitality’?”

Ninnehla’s head snapped to the side as Dib blanched. “It was an accident!” the human cried in defense.

“True! He intended to destroy ME!”

“Now look, you little—“ Dib slammed his fists on the counter and Ninnehla jumped away in alarm. Waving her hands at them, she took a few steps back. “Please, Lord Zim… Do give this some thought. The potential benefits outweigh the short-term suffering you’ll endure.” Both of the men were silent and she smiled sheepishly. “I’ll leave the two of you to… continue this discussion.”

More silence after she left. Dib continued to glare and Zim did his best to return it. He finally managed something that resembled anger and Dib sputtered. Shaking his head, he stepped back. “Destroying your planet… Dragging you halfway across the universe… That sounds familiar.”

Zim’s resolute expression turned into a frown. “I am here willingly.” He reached out and grabbed Dib’s drink, taking a sip. “And you came willingly, too… You had a choice in the end.”

“I did.” Sliding around the counter, leaving Zim with the drink, he finished, “And so do you.”

Several hours passed and Dib did not return. Zim feared that perhaps he had left and the Irken would indeed have to fend for himself. Venturing outside the room, he peered over the edge of the walkway, down over Kharna itself. From this vantage-point, he could see most of the goings-on in the selling floor… Thousands of tourists and businessmen passed through the mile of real estate, from the docks to the casino, the bar, the restaurant. Dib ran all of this? It seemed inconceivable for the human to achieve. Zim wanted to know about all of it. Dib had changed so much… If Zim wanted to keep up, he had to change too.

Mind made up, Zim headed for the elevator to the main floor. He knew just by the burning in his gut that either Dib or Ninnehla lurked nearby. Without the Amber killing his senses, he noticed how acutely the Meekrob affected him. It was a good feeling. He could change. Become this… whatever it was.

Exiting, he followed his instincts… Some people looked at him askance and others avoided him altogether. It’d been many years since he had walked among the public; he forgot that he was Irken—the “enemy,” now. Without Dib alongside him, he had no buffer.

Was a guard following him? One of those burly grey things. He glared at the creature and it only gave him a nod of greeting in reply. It did not approach.
Eventually he wandered into the restaurant. It was plush. Dimly lit. Probably pricey; everyone that sat to eat was dressed well.

A hostess approached him. “Can I help you… sir?” She looked a bit frightened. Staring dumbly at her, he tried to walk past but she stopped him. “Do you have a reservation?”

“No,” Zim answered flatly. Over her shoulder, he spied that telltale head of hair. “Zim—is looking for someone.”

Finally pushing past her, he walked halfway across the dining room. Dib’s table was nestled in the back. He was seated in a booth, right next to Ninnehla, talking affably with some businessman. Zim’s keen hearing picked Dib’s voice out of the low din.

“…she’s my girl,” he stated, turning to smile at Ninnehla. “The only person I would ever trust with my business, because she’s the only one I could trust with my heart. You see that the profit margin has increased by 3% in the last six months…”

Zim felt sick. So they were partners, eh? More than business partners. Look how cozy they are. Did she allow him to go sleep around with whomever? She was probably just using him for his money. Dib had only brought Zim here to bend him to her whims.

Dejected, Zim turned and left the restaurant. He saw that damn guard again. “Why do you insist on following me?!” he cried.

“I was ordered to,” The man answered.

“Didn’t want me getting in the way, eh?!”

Blinking, the man shook his head. “Irkens aren’t allowed on Kharna… The rule’s strictly enforced. If a patron here sees the likes a you, he’s usually more’n happy to dispatch of you.”

“Giving Zim a bodyguard? How kind of them. Was it the Dib Creature or his girlfriend?”

Not quite picking up on Zim’s sarcasm, the man replied, “They both decided it’d be a good idea.”

“Well, if that’s the case…”

Zim went exploring, this large man in tow. He was an absolute asshole to everyone he met. It felt fantastic! The dealer at the blackjack table. The girl at the bar. The little sandwich vendor. Nobody dared to argue with his bodyguard nearby. He’d show the Dib Creature and that girl that he wouldn’t buckle to their desires! Drunk with power, Zim shoved a cleaning lady off of her hover trolley and hopped behind the wheel. The guard barely managed to catch Zim before he sped off, laughing maniacally. Squeezing his huge body into the backseat, he growled, “This’s why everyone hates Irkens, you know.”

“Hatred is all Zim has left.” He turned to glare at the man, almost mowing down a woman in the process. The guard reached out for the wheel and the two of them struggled until they collided with a column near the front doors. Zim tumbled out of the cart, moaning in pain. His heady madness faded as he stood, stiffly, to dust himself off.

The guard emerged from the now totaled vehicle with difficulty. “He told me not to let you get hurt, but I swear by the Seven Gods--!”

“Save your pointless blather! I’m returning to the upper level.”

And so he did, gleaning some kind of masochistic satisfaction from the stares. He was soon back in Dib’s quarters… The low drone of GIR’s television the only sound in the area. He walked past GIR and into the bedroom.

Zim collapsed face-first atop Dib’s gigantic bed, letting out a ragged sigh.
The evening passed and he didn’t move an inch. Would Dib return at all? Did that crystal woman have her own quarters? Would he sleep there?

Suddenly, he heard the main doors slide open. A few minutes later, Dib’s voice emerged from the doorway.

“Did you enjoy yourself earlier?”

Of course Mr. Guard probably told Dib all about the trolley. Rolling onto his back, Zim stared at Dib with a flat expression. The human was smiling, his cheeks a bit flushed. “Did you?” Zim shot back.

“Yeah,” Dib replied, closing the door behind him to block out GIR’s TV. He kicked off his boots and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I admit that… after all these years of wheeling and dealing, I really wanted a break. But I missed it when I was alone on my ship… Going from being surrounded by people to nothing is a huge adjustment.”

“Is that why you had to go play in the bar at the last place we stopped?”

There was warning in Zim’s voice but Dib ignored it. Sighing, he nodded. “I think so… Like a moth to a flame, those neon lights beckoned me.”

“And your girlfriend doesn’t mind that?” Zim’s eyes rolled toward the ceiling. “Grinding up against slutty girls on the dance floor… Taking them back to your room…”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Dib replied tersely, turning to look at Zim with a furrowed brow. “Unless you count the primadonna CURRENTLY in my room.”

“NEVER!” Zim spat. He pounded his fists on the bed. “I would never be your… GIRLFRIEND, and share you with—with—“ He faltered. Indignation used to be so much easier, hadn’t it?

Seeing that glimpse of his old Zim made Dib smile. Or perhaps it was just the liquor still flowing through his system. “What’s this about, Zim?”

Swallowing a bitter taste in his mouth, Zim hissed, “You promised you wouldn’t do that to me again. Promised!”

“Do… what?”

“I saw you. In the restaurant…”

Nodding, Dib scratched his beard. “Boritz told me you had been there.”

“Rubbing up against that girl! Gave her your heart, have you?”

Dib blinked for a moment until understanding dawned. “Oh, Zim. That was just business. The guy, he didn’t want to deal because he thought an Idol was in charge of Kharna. So I schmoozed him, made him think I was just letting Ninn play the part of Boss.”

Zim sat up, but his face was still sour.

“She’s known around these parts as my consort. We are together in appearance, yes, but we are not in any sort of commitment to eachother.” He sighed. “I’m not gonna lie, though. We’ve—been intimate. But she is Meekrob. They don’t form the same kind of attachments.”

None of that placated Zim. “But what does all that MEAN?! Again you torture Zim with your vagueness.”

“It means,” Dib laughed. “I’ve fucked her, in a sense, but she is not my girlfriend. And doesn’t want to be.”

“In a sense?!” More vagueness! Zim felt profound frustration.
Dib nodded, turning more fully toward Zim. “The Meekrob, they do things much differently than we do.” He scooted closer to Zim. “Would you like me to show you? The power—it flows through your body as well.”

Suspicious though he was, Zim felt an odd warmth in his chest under those penetrating brown eyes.

“Without those… Ridiculously thick goggles… You are sort of attractive.”

“Sort of? You mean... my glasses?” Dib bit his lip. “Do you think I’m sexy, Zim?”

“No…” Zim stared at his lap. “But you… always made me crave you. Your smell… Your taste.”

“Oh, yeah. My delicious cum.” Dib’s good hand reached out, gently caressing Zim’s antennae. “…right?”

The affectionate touch was disarming. A shudder passed over Zim’s body. “Delicious… yes…”

A shock came from Dib’s fingers then. It passed through Zim’s antennae straight to the base of his spine. Then, in waves, it assaulted his every nerve.

“By the Tallests—“

“This is it, Zim. My power. Your power.”

He couldn’t control his body. Falling back against the pillows, he moaned loudly. It had been so long. This… was ecstacy! “Dib! Dib…” With a ragged sigh, he climaxed. Dib noticed the jerk of the hip, the tenting material between his legs. But his fingers continued to roll over Zim’s quivering antennae, the Meekrob pulsing though his palm. “I could do this to you for hours, Zim. Days…”

“Please. Dib-worm. I… my body…”

“Beg me.”

He pushed the coarse cloth of Zim’s tunic up around his waist. His warm metallic fingers closed over Zim’s length. He pulled on the ridges, teasing the now sensitive and swollen flesh. “Beg me.”

Zim’s head rolled back. He moaned more insistently, squirming helplessly. Soon, his cock again sprang to life. Dib stroked it slow and hard, dialing down the Meekrob to a dull throb.

“Beg me.”

“Dib!”

“Tell me—you’re mine.”

Eyes glazing, Zim writhed beneath the other. Pleasure bordered on pain. He wailed.

“Zim.”

“Please. Please… Zim—is yours. You know it—“

A last shockwave passed over him and he came again. The world spun. He felt that warm, smooth flesh against his lips… Ever so slightly, he opened his mouth. Dib pushed the head of his cock inside, stroking quickly.

With a soft gasp, Dib finished, coating the roof of the other’s mouth with his seed. Drinking from it eagerly, Zim willed himself to lick his lips clean.

Nothing but silence for so long. Zim lay with eyes closed, pure exhaustion gripping him. Finally, his senses returned. He heard Dib’s breath. Opening his eyes, he saw the human looming over him, face flushed.

“What… have I done?” Dib whispered as he stared down at Zim. Zim could muster no reply; even when he didn’t suffer from exhaustion, he was inarticulate.

This did not matter, however. A dam had burst. Dib fell upon him now, growling as his lips met Zim’s. His tongue plunged into the Irken’s mouth, hands grabbing and squeezing and caressing and pulling. Zim was still sore and stiff and it hurt! Oh, how it hurt. But he moaned anyway, clinging to Dib’s clean white dress shirt.

Finally their lips parted. Dib collapsed beside him, panting from the exertion.

Zim pressed his face against Dib’s clammy neck. Inhaled his musky scent. Clean skin, smoke, and cologne. Humans could smell good sometimes.

“Dib.”

He barely stirred, face partially buried in the pillow. “Yeah.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Uh?”

“I want to be whole again. The burning. My skin… I’ll do it.”
- 6
- 7
- 8
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Irken Anatomy