This was hell.

"My inferior alien goo-baby, yes you are!"

It had to be. Nevermind that he had wanted it, at first. Some perverse sense of companionship, and a truly pathetic desire for attention; sparked the eventual inferno he was damned to now.

"There! Now we are comfy, quite comfy indeed! My genius is amaziiiing. Are you not the most comfortable you have ever been in your whole life, wafflecake?"

Wafflecake. "Yeah," Dib responded tiredly. Truthfully, he was sweltering underneath the blanket on the couch, but he had learned (had he learned) that Zim found the warmth and claustrophobically tight space between the blanket and Dib's endothermic fleshmeat to be comforting. The little parasite practically burrowed in there. Dib tried not to think of the implications of having a creature curled up on his stomach that had once threatened to lay eggs in said organ.

"My muffin-headed sack of stink-meats," Zim cooed, antennae fluttering against Dib's chest. "Pet Zim's head."

Rolling his eyes, Dib obeyed. Easier that way, rather than getting clawed for insubordination. Again.

While Zim let his red eyes shut in contentment at the slow strokes across his head that smoothed his antennae down, Dib offered up a half-hearted attempt at salvaging his tattered dignity.

"You know," he started. Zim didn't open his eyes. "I could just tell everyone at school about this. What would they say then? They'd say 'Dib! We had no idea you had to suffer through this! You were right all along, no normal kid would want cuddles and demand to be petted! Obviously, Zim is an ALIEN!'" He trailed off, hands fisted in the air and eyes glazed over, lost in the temporary fantasy. It was the appalling lack of petting that made Zim finally crack open his eyelids, rather than any alarm.

Zim slowly uncoiled from his superior comfy position, and draped across Dib's torso lazily… the only tense part of him were his hands, reaching up to dig claws into the soft flesh of Dib's shoulders. The Dib flinched, and finally came back to reality and to Zim's spreading, cruel grin.

"No one will believe you, Dib-monkey," Zim pointed out, red eyes slitted with ruthless pleasure at Dib's somewhat crestfallen, confused look. "No one ever believes you."

Dib shivered, and glanced away. "I could still tell them," he muttered. Zim squinted at him, huffed, and resumed his favored position.

"You're lying," he answered smugly, and drew the blanket in tighter around them. It was satisfying to win, as always. And it was even more satisfying when Dib resumed petting without having to be told.