𝔪𝔞𝔩

"we don't have to do this, y'know." he visibly bristles. "n-no!! it's just.. that's not what i--"

the raise of your brow causes his already flushed porcelain to darken another shade of blue. poor boy nearly passed out putting his hands on you for the first time. he fears a full smooch on the lips would actually end him. and the last thing either of you want is having to explain to his red twin why mugman's soul is no longer in his head.

his eyes flit away as he tugs at his scarf. "i just.. i want it to be good for ya."

"it will be." your smile is patient and kind as you gently tilt his chin with your index finger. "we'll take it slow. and if ya wanna stop, just.. i dunno-- punch me or somethin'."

he wouldn't even dream of laying a finger on you. but he appreciates the sentiment behind your consideration.

"okay.." but that's the problem: he's not sure he'll be able to stop. for he's certain that the moment your lips meet, he won't get enough of it. and all he'll want to do in every waking moment is sweep you into his arms just to relive that sweet sensation over and over. those romance novels he's read a million times paint this moment as something precious, something timeless. he's spent a lot of time fantasizing about it.

now that he has it, he'll be damned if he can't get it right.

mugman takes a breath that does little to ease the tension in his shoulders, his brows knitted together. you can practically see each thought buzzing around in that brilliant mind of his, always preparing two steps ahead. his breath seems unable to even itself no matter how many he takes to steel his nerves.

"i can hear your thoughts from here, mugs."

he jumps a little when you take his hands and set them onto your shoulders. the slow, soft circles you trace on his wrists sends a pleasant ripple up his spine that gets his heart beating faster. your tenderness never fails to amaze him. how can you, someone so gentle and sweet, be soft with someone like him? after everything he's done.. the gore staining his gloves.. he feels unworthy of every small kindness you've bestowed. his fingers curl into you a little tighter. "don't think. just... go with it."

"but.." he nervously runs his tongue over his lips. "how will i know i'm doin' it right?"

you give him that swoon-worthy smile and his head gets so wonderfully dizzy. "that's the neat part. we'll figure it out together."

if his head wasn't bubbling before, he sure as hell was now. you lean in slowly with hooded eyes that shine with something he can't put a name to, but equally sends warmth gathering in his stomach. there's color to your cheeks and the warmth of your breath fans on his already blazing porcelain. but seeing you in a tizzy over him makes him feel less of a fool. you want this just as bad as he does.

he's shaking as he leans in to meet you. your eyes meet his in a silent inquiry. the nod he gives is more of a jerk than anything, but plenty enough enthusiasm to say nothing else but yes, yes, yes! and, oh.

upon first contact, you're soft. warm and plush in all the ways that remind him of a cozy bed with fluffy blankets. his books had him believing this moment would be a spectacle; grand and loud, with fireworks bursting behind his eyes. instead he finds himself melting beneath the touch of you. your palms caress his cheeks with such tenderness he nearly wants to cry. your mouths move together in delicate tandem, eager yet considerate. his sigh is light and airy against your lips. he scrounges up enough courage to move his hands from your shoulders and rest on both parts of your face. and when he feels you settle into the touch, his heart soars. in a lifetime of fear and bloodshed, he finds serenity here with you. when your warmth disappears from him, he nearly chases after you. but you don't go far. his eyes dazedly flutter open and celestials above, you've never looked more beautiful to him than you do right now. a goofy, love-drunk smile spreads across his face.

"oh.. oh gosh. that was.. i-i mean, just-- wow."

the giggle you make is the loveliest sound he's heard all night. and it's all for him. this little moment of goodness in a world so frightening. held close to his soul, right here in his arms, you're the safest you'll ever be.

he approaches you like a scolded puppy a few hours after you've both calmed down, shoulders hunched and his gaze aimed at the floor. his hands restlessly tie themselves into knots over and over. the last time his palms were sweating this much was when he leaned in to kiss you proper on the lips for the first time.

cuphead shuffles over to where you're seated at the edge of the bed. "..toots?"

you look up at him. his usual bravado is nowhere to be seen. and despite his hulking form, he looks.. small. a word you'd never think to associate with someone who grins so carelessly in the face of his troubles. when your arms open to him, he almost looks surprised by the gesture and for a moment you don't think he'll accept it. like he's shocked that you want his presence around despite the way things had gone down earlier. but his knees give out and he lets the full weight of his head come to rest in your lap. he snakes his arms carefully around your waist as you trace slow circles between his shoulders. for a moment, the two of you bask in the solemn quiet.

"do you.. still love me?"

the question comes out in such a meek whisper against your belly, you almost don't hear it. you carefully tilt his face up to properly meet his big pie-cut eyes. the little rubies that usually shine so bright to compliment his boisterousness have gone dim with uncertainty. it's not lost on you how his fingers curl a little more into your back.

"a fight ain't ever gonna change how i feel about you."

cuphead goes pliant as you lean down and press a delicate kiss between his brows. a gesture so soft and sweet, he feels completely unworthy of receiving it. his eyes grow warm as your thumb strokes his porcelain, fingers twitching at the small of your back. how can you still be so tender with him after all he's done? you wouldn't love him like this if you knew the true weight of the sins on his soul.. how much blood stains his gloves.. he doesn't deserve it. he doesn't deserve you. it'd be so much easier if you just--

"i love you, cuphead."