Chapter Text
Calling yourself an introvert was a bit of an understatement, and now you weren’t even safe within the walls of your own home. Walls that could talk, now. Granted, the walls didn’t have much to say, but the others certainly did. A remote position with Valdivian had truly felt like a dream come true until you were thrust into job limbo on your first day, a pair of mysterious high-tec aviators crashed through your window, and everything in your house became sentient and super hot.
Being stuck at home was something of a nightmare now, not to mention the actual nightmare that started haunting your sleep with its many eyes and sultry voice. You just weren’t equipped for the level of social acrobatics that you needed to survive in a house of furniture that fought and fawned and other f-words.
You did feel a bit of a thrill over the novelty of the so-called "Dateviators" when Skylar first showed up with her bubblegum hair and bubblegum attitude, until you registered what their name implied. When was the last time you’d been on a date? When was the last time you’d had a full conversation with anyone beyond dreaded small-talk with your delivery driver and obligatory phone calls with your parents once a month? And now you were supposed to chat up your personal items and couldn’t leave your house? Your sanctuary no longer felt as such.
You could just leave, you told yourself that first night curled up in bed. Betty. You could walk out the front door. Valdivian would take the glasses and everything would go back to how it was before. But was that what you really wanted? Did you want to help the people who banished you to job limbo? No, those Valdivian fuckers would have to pry the Dateviators out of your cold dead hands. And maybe there was another reason you wanted to keep the glasses, too.
Your thoughts drifted to warm brown eyes and an uncompromising stature. After Skylar, you met Dorian. Chestnut hair, perfectly tailored clothes, a chiseled jaw well-defined by a perfectly groomed beard, and a door chain hanging from his ear. SO fucking hot. He seemed kind, too. What if it was nice to get to know him? What if you'd enjoy it? At the same time, were you willing to get over your introversion? Look past the clammy palms and racing heart that came with meeting someone new? The thought was terrifying, honestly.
Though you’d once been friendly enough to navigate social situations with relatively little pain, those days had long passed. You’d become more and more introverted over the years. You graduated school only to return to your hometown and get a house on the street you grew up on. Your home was an easy comfort. Familiar. Safe. No surprises. Your quiet life suited you, you thought, though it could be a smidge lonely.
That was for the best, though.
You’d gone through too many painful friendship break-ups, roommate break-ups, and romantic break-ups as everyone around you moved onto bigger and better in their lives. Meanwhile, you were content with smaller and softer ambitions: a bed where you could sleep easy, a table to read and drink your coffee at in the morning, and an office for work that would fund all the takeout you could ever want. You were living the dream! You knew it wasn’t for everyone, though. Even your parents were long gone, off living their best lives two states over and you were left to your sweet little home where there was no one but you and the things you surrounded yourself with.
After moving in, you’d carefully curated your space with the fruits of dozens of thoughtful trips to thrift stores. You looked high and low for the softest blankets, a wide variety of well-loved books, and appliances that would be both functional and cute on your kitchen counter. It’s good you’d chosen these items so carefully, you supposed, because most of them were quite sweet once they began speaking to you. You found yourself wanting to meet them all through the Dateviators, and the days passed quickly after that.
You began your careful experimentation in your office. First was your monitor which you looked at for hours each day. Once awakened, Mac was almost familiar to you in all their RGB glory (though it had been truly horrifying to learn that they’d read your fanfiction). You met Jerry next and couldn’t help but smile at the array of missing hair clips, old polaroids, and pretty beads he was able to procure from his many pockets. Then sweet Penelope who made you feel a bit anxious. And then Dasha, the most intimidating of the day, all solid muscle and swoopy hair and dreamy eyes and kindness that was a balm. You left most of these interactions with a single thought: why did they all have to be so hot?
There were others in your office, too: Lyric and Chairemi and Wyndolyn. You spent a few days rotating between each of them, trying to get comfortable. You ended most of your days talking with Dorian, and that went a long way to easing your anxieties. They were gentle talks, easy and of little consequence, but bolstering.
And how did you find the house today, love?
Alright, there? Any news from our friends in the office?
Tell me, what're your big plans for tomorrow?
You couldn't help but keep turning to him. You also couldn’t help but stare when he’d fold his muscled arms over his chest or share a little smile with you as he waxed poetic about the benefits of friendship before wishing you a goodnight. Just your luck, really, a house full of hot dateables and the one that made you feel the hottest had friendzoned you upon first conversation. You understood, though. There was truth to what Dorian said about love being dangerous. It was easier to keep the door locked and other people out. It was also easy, then, to accept his friendship for what it was. You were grateful, too, that when this bizarre part of your life ended it wouldn't be too heartbreaking. Dorian couldn't break your heart if you never gave it. Even if you did, you knew he wouldn’t accept it. You were safe, for now, but every time you looked into his eyes you knew you wouldn't be for long.
A week into your time with the Dateviators you developed rules of the game:
1. Do your best. This opportunity had crashed through your window and maybe it was a gift from the universe to help you stave off the loneliness that had been creeping into your life.
2. Fuck Valdivian. If using the glasses and keeping them safe meant screwing Valdivian over, then you would do whatever it took to protect the Dateviators.
3. Do not fall for Dorian. Don't think about him too much, don't talk to him too much, don't be reckless with your heart.
With your rules in place, you kept gathering the courage to introduce yourself to the other things within your home, and tried not to spend too many charges of the Dateviators on your charming doors.
A week and some change later, and you still hadn’t explored much beyond your bedroom and office. It was hard to want to meet others when you were getting comfortable with a few. You were worried that if you got too ambitious you’d ruin a good thing. On the other hand, you were having fun. They surprised you. They were genuine and earnest, each of them more true to themselves than anyone you’d ever met outside your house. You wanted to be more like them--bolder, more confident, and less apologetic about your new existence in their lives.
Chance, your D20, was the most insistent about getting you to keep putting yourself out there. You knew he was rooting for you, but you also suspected he just wanted new blood for his campaign. After all, he might be able to draw others in with the novelty of the human who could finally see them. Take a chance, he kept saying with his goofy grin while you and Dasha booed and heckled good-naturedly.
"You know, my friend Parker is up in the attic I think, " Chance said one afternoon, once again pushing for you to venture beyond the office after your latest one-shot campaign. "He’d be a spectacular party member. His energy is off the charts and he’s got some truly admirable strategy up his sleeves! We could all learn a thing or two."
He glanced at Dasha from the corner of his eyes as he said this. You had to hide your smile. Dasha was lovely, but definitely an act-first-think-later type player.
" I don’t know, Chance, " you said as you straightened things on your desk absent-mindedly, nerves bubbling in your stomach. "I haven’t been in the attic in a long time. I’m not even sure what’s in there. Maybe I could do something easier first…what about the exercise room? "
"And how of often do you go in there? " Laughed Dasha, hearty and bold. You couldn’t help your own bark of laughter in return, knowing that she was teasing about how you were clearly on different levels of fitness.
"Ah, don’t be mean, Dasha, " Chance berated, though he shared a grin with you both at the joke. " C’mon, a roll of the die, hmm? 1-10 for the attic, 11-20 for the exercise room. "
“Alright,” you conceded. You were trying to make the most of your situation and get back at Valvidian—you couldn’t do that holed up in the office all the time. You reminded yourself of your first rule: do your best.
You shook the die he passed you, pleasantly warm from his hands, and rolled it across the desk. You watched it skip and jump over itself before landing with a nice little cli-clink. You all leaned over, heads bumping.
1.
"Damn," you sighed.
Chance clapped a hand on your shoulder, though you knew he was secretly pleased. "Can’t win them all. Go get ‘em, tiger."
You bid your friends (you could call them that now, right?) goodbye and trudged up the stairs to the long-neglected attic door. You felt bad for whatever lay beyond, honestly. Would they hate you for having stuck them up there? What if they woke all dusty and wouldn’t talk to you? Just do your best, you reminded yourself once more. Your hand went to the knob and you were surprised to find it would not turn.
Locked.
Well…you hadn’t spoken with Dorian today. Not that you were looking for excuses but…well…yeah, you were totally looking for excuses and who better to help you in this situation? You straightened your clothes and powered the Dateviators up, your heart already skipping.
Chill the fuck out, you told yourself, though the thought was immediately forgotten when he appeared before you, strong and imposing as always.
"Hello, hello," he drawled, lazy smile stretching across his lips.
He seemed relaxed, more so than you’d ever seen him. It was a good look on him, though every Dorian you’d met thus far was criminally handsome. You wondered what it was about the attic that had him this way. The peace and quiet, maybe?
"Hi, Dorian," you said with an answering smile. "You’re locked."
"Ah, well, nothing I can do about that, I’m afraid," he said with a shrug of his shoulders.
"You can’t open?"
"No can do, sweetheart." The endearment had you flushing red and you hoped he didn’t notice. "There’s a key around here somewhere, maybe, but why don’t you try somewhere else today, alright?"
"How do you know what I’m doing? " You asked.
He rolled his eyes, but there was nothing mean about it. If anything, you almost wondered if you saw a shadow of fondness. "I have eyes all over the house, I saw you slink out of the office and walk up here like you were heading to the gallows."
You put your face in your hands, flushing further. You didn’t know why it was so embarrassing to try to be making friends and…dating. It made you feel vulnerable to know that he’d clocked your efforts. Wasn’t that the point of the glasses though? Who wouldn’t have clocked your efforts?
"Hey, there, none of that," he laughed. You dared to peek between your fingers up at him. "You’re doing great. Now, where to, hm?"
Your eyes skipped to the door of the gym behind you, and even though it had been your first choice you still found yourself feeling nervous again. Dorian seemed to clock this too, chucking you under the chin with a knuckle so your gaze would swing back to him.
"Nothing to be scared of in there, you know," he said, voice softer than before.
"Yeah? " You asked hopefully.
"Stepford is a bit of a show-off and Dunk can be a little…over enthusiastic. But Fantina’s the sweetest you'll ever meet. You’ll get along, I think." He said this last part with another smile as though he knew something you didn’t. Rather than feel worried by this, you found you felt comforted. It helped to know what you were getting into, and you didn’t think Dorian would lead you astray.
He walked you to the door, morphing into a different version of himself for a moment. He became a little more rigid, his biceps a little larger as though this Dorian made use of the room and weights within, before holding the door open for you and beckoning you in.
"Play nice," he said with a grin when you glanced back one last time.
You couldn't help but grin back.
Dorian was right, there was nothing to be scared of. You’d walked into the exercise room so confident about who you’d meet that you didn’t stutter or stumble over your words once. You managed to compliment Stepford on his golden glow without blushing, and took Fantina’s fangirling in stride.
You’d been using up the charges on your Dateviators consistently, but it felt more…fulfilling today. You enjoyed every single conversation. A game with Chance and Dasha, meeting Fantina and Stepford…and Dorian. How had your conversation with Dorian been the best of them all though it had been the shortest? A few words from him and you’d developed a confidence you didn’t know existed. Where did it come from? Could you maintain it? Something about his soft voice and the assurance of friendship upon your first meeting had put you at ease. He was solid, sturdy, dependable. It was nice to be able to depend on someone.
You went to bed feeling as though you’d successfully followed at least two of your rules. The third, well...you couldn't bring yourself to feel too bad about your lack of caution yet.