Work Text:
i.
“Hey Amanda, did you nick my gray hoodie?”
“Did I...what?”
“Look, it’s no big deal, I just can’t find it and I know you’re all doing the whole gray-duality thing, so I thought -”
“No, I don’t have your hoodie, but since when do you use British slang?”
“...huh?”
“You asked me did I ‘nick’ your hoodie.”
“No, I said...take.”
“You definitely did not. You’ve been hanging around Dirk too much.”
Amanda ended the call abruptly and Todd stared at his phone for a full minute and a half before sighing in irritation, but he wasn’t sure at who.
ii.
“Oh come on, seriously? We need to go up 17 flights and the lift is out? Jesus.” Todd glanced over to see Dirk smiling his little smile that meant he was trying not to smile his big smile. “What are you so happy about? Excited to get your cardio in today?” he grumbled.
Dirk’s little smile was getting bigger by the second. “You said ‘lift’. That is definitely a British thing. You’re picking words up from me! You’re embracing me, Todd!” Dirk was outright beaming now, and bouncing a little too while nudging Todd’s shoulder. Even Todd’s eyeroll and annoyed huff couldn’t shake Dirk’s pleased expression. After 442 steps and a considerable amount of wheezing, Todd was still catching Dirk shooting him little smiles when he thought Todd wasn’t looking. And if that was making Todd’s mouth twitch up some, well, it was probably just because he was glad they were done climbing the stairs.
iii.
“Morning Todd,” Farah greeted him as she stepped into the office.
Todd glanced up from his phone. “Hey Farah. Oh, cool, I love your jumper, is that new?”
“Jumper?” She looked down at herself in confusion. “I’m not wearing a dress, what do you - oh, do you mean my sweater?”
“Yes, your sweater,” Todd said in exasperation, rolling his eyes at himself. “I keep using British words I’ve obviously picked up from Dirk. He’s not even really British, did you know that?” Todd exclaimed as he threw his hands in the air, as if he was somehow proving a point of some kind.
Farah threw him a curious look. “Yeah, I did know that, but he spent most of his childhood there, well, before Blackwing anyway. And then he went back to England for like, 15 years after he got out. It stands to reason he’d have the accent and use their terminology. And you spend most of your waking hours around him, so logically it makes sense that some of his vocabulary would make its way into your own.”
‘I know,” Todd sighed, “but it being logical doesn’t mean I like it any more.”
iv.
Hobbs was a cheater. Oh sure he acted all nice and unassuming but he must be cheating because he was drinking Todd under the table. To the encouraging cheers of Tina and Dirk, naturally. Farah was staying out of it but she was smiling awfully widely.
When Hobbs stood up - steadily, that fucker - and mildly asked who wanted another round, Todd had to admit defeat. “Not meeeeee,” he groaned from where his head was resting against the back of the booth. “I d’no where you learned to drink like that mate, but I gotta stop.”
“Ah, don’t worry pal, you don’t get through many winters ice fishing in Montana without a lot of beer to keep you warm,” Hobbs replied before heading up to the bar. Next to Todd, Dirk was looking perplexed.
“I don’t think I’ve ever called anyone ‘mate’ in my life, Todd. Are you picking up British colloquialisms from someone else?” he accused, but his tipsy smile assured Todd he was joking.
Never one to back down, Todd took the bait anyway. “yeah, from all the stupid BBC shows I’ve been watchin’,” he slurred. “You’ve got me like, addicted to your accent or somethin’. S’nice. Cute. I love it.”
Closing his eyes and rolling his head to pass out on Dirk’s shoulder, he missed his companions sharing a wide-eyed, surprised look.
v.
Todd wasn’t a big sports fan. Baseball was boring, soccer in Seattle was for hipsters, and he’d known too many unbearable Seahawks fans in his life to give any thought to football. He could handle basketball though, having played enough pickup games in his life and even a few seasons in a youth recreational league. So when confronted with a wall of big screen TVs at Target showing Duke vs. Gonzaga during March Madness, he left Dirk to his search for...whatever, and wandered over to watch the game. He hadn’t realized how into it he was until a bad call made him throw his hands up and yell at the screens. He saw a guy next to him do the same and looked over.
“That was a rubbish call, right?” Todd asked the other shopper avoiding actual shopping.
“Definitely,” the guy agreed. Then, “Do you live in England?”
“Huh? No, I live here in Seattle, why?”
“Oh, you said that foul was ‘rubbish’, I’ve only ever heard Brits use that term.”
Todd groaned. “Yeah, my partner’s British. I seem to have been picking up his slang.”
“Oh yeah, I had a girlfriend from Alabama once, I picked up stuff from her all the time. Said ‘y’all’ for weeks after we broke up.”
“Oh, no, when I said...I meant my business partner, not my...not that there’s anything wrong with that, I mean I’ve had boyfriends, before, and- and girlfriends too! But just not, not him, we’re not…” Todd trailed off, fidgeting awkwardly while the other guy looked at him like he was a babbling idiot, which Todd supposed was fair. “Anyway, he’s not my boyfrien-”
Todd was abruptly cut off as Dirk ran up behind him, stopping only when he’d made full-body contact with Todd, nearly knocking him into one of the flat screens. “Todd, look! These condoms are perfect, they’re exactly what I was looking for! Come on, we need to go test them right away!”
As Todd was being dragged toward the front of the store, he let out his familiar weary sigh, but even he knew it lacked any of its usual bite. There were worse things than a total stranger thinking he was a head case with a sex-crazed boyfriend, he supposed.
+1
“You know Todd, your obsession with my accent and use of British words has got me thinking,” Dirk began while spinning in slow circles in his desk chair.
“I am not obsessed with your accent! I just clearly spend way too much time around you,” Todd protested. Given that he was making his protests from the floor, where he’d been lying spread-eagle for the past 30 minutes, Dirk decided he was justified in writing them off.
“Right Todd, it’s not like you literally said as much before. I mean, you have a lot of work to do on your accent but before long you’ll be popping down the shops to splash out on a new brolly then whinging when all’s not tickety boo.”
“I’m pretty sure you made at least half of those words up.”
“All words are made up, Todd - Thor told me that. But, as I was saying, it’s got me thinking that maybe I’ll try using some American terms! Obviously I won’t change my whole pattern of speech, but I could pepper some in here or there. Oh! I could start calling you bro!”
A visible shudder rolled down Todd’s spine as he scrunched his face up. “No. Absolutely not.”
“Dude?”
“Less weird but still no.”
“Ok, man then. Hey man, how’s it hanging?” Dirk tried to affect a stereotypical surfer accent and failed miserably, causing Todd to try and keep a straight face and failing miserably. Dirk’s aggrieved expression only made Todd laugh harder, forcing him to sit up so he didn’t choke. His mirth under control, he stood up and put his hands on the arms of Dirk’s chair, stopping its spinning. He tried to school his features into something resembling seriousness.
“If I admit that I like your accent, will you promise to never, ever say that again?”
“Hmm, I’m not sure I like the thought of you policing my language, but I suppose if it gets you to admit that you think my accent is sexy I’ll allow it.”
“Now wait a minute, I never said anything about sexy!”
“But we both know you’re thinking it,” Dirk teased, poking Todd in the chest. “I’ve been reliably informed that proper British accents are undeniably hot. You can’t deny it Todd, that’s literally what undeniable means!”
Todd stared at Dirk for a long moment, expression inscrutable, before deflating some. “Fine. I do. Think your accent is hot. Maybe even sexy. Happy?”
“Um, yes! Undeniably! Look at me, not denying this happiness! Literally couldn’t if I tried, as I said before, and I-”
“Dirk.” Todd interrupted the babbling before it could spiral out of control. “Now would be a good time to stop using your voice and kiss me instead,”
Todd was already moving in so Dirk met him halfway for a lingering, if somewhat chaste kiss. When they broke apart, Dirk didn’t go far before murmuring, “what about darling? Not much used by Americans but I think it suits you.”
Todd shivered again, but this time it was accompanied by a smile. “I can live with that,” he said, leaning in for another kiss.