A Taste of Romance — SHOWBIZ AND SOULS
Summary: Cuphead eagerly joins you for what he believes is just another fun afternoon together. Between delicious pastries, laughter-filled conversations, and wandering through town, the day becomes one neither of you will ever forget. Sometimes the sweetest moments are the ones hiding in plain sight.
Pairing: Showbiz! Cuphead x Reader
Genre: Romance, Slice of Life, Fluff, Comedy, Comfort and Slow Burn (Beginnings)
Trope: Oblivious Crush, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Bakery Date, Sharing Food as Love Language, Sunshine x Sunshine, Slow Realization, First Date, Domestic Vibes and Romantic Comedy and Tooth-Rotting Fluff— GOD THIS ONE IS SO FREAKING CUTE HELLO???????
Showbiz and Souls belongs to: @biposi I got their feedback on how their Cuphead would act on a date with someone
Their au blog: @showbiz-and-souls go check out their work if you haven't already, they just updated it recently
By the time Cuphead knocked on your front door, the afternoon sun had already begun sinking lower in the sky, painting the — now sweet — neighborhood in warm shades of gold and amber.
The streets weren't nearly as busy as they had been earlier in the day, but every now and then a vintage automobile would rumble past, its engine humming loudly before disappearing farther down the road.
Somewhere in the distance, laughter drifted through the air from children playing in the street while a gramophone from an open apartment window crackled with lively jazz music, giving the whole neighborhood that familiar, comforting energy that made afternoons like these feel almost timeless.
Cuphead stood on your porch with both gloved hands tucked casually into the pockets of his brown trousers, rocking back and forth on his heels without even realizing he was doing it. Every few seconds he'd glance down the street, then toward your door again, unable to stop the excited grin stretching across his face.
He absentmindedly whistled a cheerful tune to himself — something upbeat he'd heard earlier that week — occasionally tapping the heel of one oversized shoe against the wooden porch as though he physically couldn't stand still for too long.
The medal pinned neatly to one of his suspenders caught the sunlight every time he shifted, flashing brightly for just a second before settling again.
"C'mon..." he muttered to himself with a quiet chuckle, still smiling. "Hope I ain't early..."
He wasn't worried, exactly. More like he was just... excited — not that he'd admit it.
Spending time with you had always been fun.
Whether you were wandering around town together, getting into harmless trouble, talking for hours, or simply sitting somewhere enjoying each other's company, somehow the day always ended better than it started whenever you were around.
To Cuphead this was just another afternoon hanging out with one of his favorite people.
Completely oblivious to the fact that you had been pacing back and forth inside your house for nearly fifteen minutes after getting yourself done because your heart wouldn't stop racing.
Standing in front of your hallway mirror for what had to be the tenth time, you straightened your clothes before smoothing out a wrinkle that probably hadn't even been there to begin with.
"...Okay..." You took a slow breath. "...It's just a date." Another pause. "...Hopefully." You laughed quietly at yourself before immediately covering your face with one hand. "You're overthinking this."
Maybe you were. Maybe you weren't.
Cuphead isn't exactly... dense. Well. Actually, he kind of is, at least when it comes to romance.
You had replayed the conversation from a few days ago more times than you'd care to admit.
"Hey, there's this bakery I've been wanting to visit..." You try to sound casual, looking at Cuphead as best you can.
"Oh yeah?" Cuphead asks you, taking off his apron after the two of you have your little weekly baking session.
"Would you... maybe want to come with me?" You wipe the remaining cookie dough from your hands while now avoiding eye contact.
"Sure! Sounds fun!" He flashes you a wide smile as he bumps his shoulder with yours, wiping his own hands as well.
No hesitation or questions whatsoever, just an enthusiastic yes.
You had smiled for the rest of that day.
Even now, you couldn't help hoping that maybe — just maybe — he'd realize what today was supposed to be.
And if he didn't, well... you'd still get to spend the afternoon with him. That isn't exactly a bad outcome.
A knock echoed through the house. Your heart skipped.
"He's here." You took one last glance at your reflection, you hadn't dressed extravagantly for the occasion.
Instead, you'd chosen something neat and comfortable — just a little nicer than what you'd normally wear for your casual hangouts with Cuphead. Something you feel confident wearing.
"Okay, here goes nothing." You smile confidently, despite your nervousness.
The moment you opened the front door, Cuphead's face lit up almost instantly.
"There ya are!" He exclaimed, his smile widening until it looked like it might split his face in two.
He straightened up from where he'd been leaning slightly on one foot, pulling one hand free from his pocket to give you an enthusiastic wave that was perhaps a little unnecessary considering you were only standing a few feet apart.
"Ready to go grab some grub?" He asked cheerfully, rocking back onto his heels again as though already eager to start walking before you'd even answered.
The sight of him immediately settled some of your nerves, you couldn't help smiling back.
"Yeah, let's go." Your voice came out softer than you intended, though the warmth in your expression made up for it.
For a brief moment, Cuphead simply looked at you. He said nothing — didn't even move, he just... observed you more than briefly glanced at you.
"...Huh." His grin faded into a thoughtful expression.
"Nothin' bad!" He replied quickly, waving both hands in front of himself as though worried you'd misunderstood him. "Just..." He scratched awkwardly behind his head, glancing away for a second before looking back at you again.
"You look..." There was a brief pause as he looked at you outfit and face. "...Real cleaned up." His smile returned, smaller this time but just as genuine. "I mean... ya always look nice, just extra nice today." He rubbed the back of his neck.
You can barely contain the big, shy smile on your face.
"Thanks." You try to sound casual despite how your heart had suddenly started beating a little faster.
Cuphead nodded once, completely unaware of the effect his words had on you.
"I figured maybe ya had somewhere important to be afterward."
"...What makes you think that?"
"I dunno, you just look like somebody who's got plans." He shrugged dramatically.
"Oh, no! Not at all." You laughed quietly.
"I'm just spending the afternoon with you."
Cuphead smiled so brightly it almost seemed to make the afternoon even warmer.
"Neat!" He clapped his hands together once. "Then let's get movin' before I'm hungry enough to start eatin' my own shoes."
"Please don't." You couldn't help laughing.
"No promises." He winked playfully before starting down the sidewalk beside you, waiting just long enough to match his pace to yours instead of rushing ahead.
He didn't think anything of doing it, he simply wanted to walk beside you.
The streets bustled with life as the two of you made your way toward the bakery. People tipped their hats in greeting as they passed. Shopkeepers stood outside their businesses chatting with customers. A newspaper boy hurried down the sidewalk calling out the day's headlines at the top of his lungs while cyclists rang little bells to announce themselves before weaving carefully around pedestrians.
Everywhere you looked, there was movement. Conversation, laughter, so full of life.
Cuphead greeted nearly everyone.
At one point, he even stopped just long enough to help an elderly gentleman retrieve the walking cane he'd accidentally dropped before jogging a few steps to catch back up beside you.
"Sorry," he laughed. "Didn't wanna leave him hangin'."
"I noticed," you replied fondly.
He scratched his cheek sheepishly.
"Figured it'd only take a second."
For a few moments, the two of you simply walked in comfortable silence, your shoulders occasionally brushing together whenever the sidewalk narrowed. Each accidental touch lingered for only a heartbeat before one of you instinctively shifted ever so slightly, though neither of you actually moved far enough apart to stop it from happening again.
Cuphead never seemed to notice, or perhaps he did and simply liked being close to you without questioning why.
He filled the silence by pointing out little things as you walked.
A dog happily balancing a stick almost as long as it was, a musician practicing trumpet outside a music shop, a ridiculously large pigeon trying — and failing — to steal a bagel from someone sitting on a bench.
You laughed every single time, and every single laugh made Cuphead grin without even realizing it.
After another few blocks, the bakery finally came into view.
Warm golden light spilled through its enormous front windows, making the polished glass shine against the afternoon sun. The painted sign above the entrance swayed gently in the breeze, while people carrying paper bags tied neatly with string stepped in and out through the front door every few minutes.
Even from outside the smell reached you both.
Fresh bread, sweet vanilla, butter, cinnamon, coffee... All the delicious things you could imagine, the wonderful smells that filled your nostrils the moment you crossed the street and stopped in front of the bakery.
Cuphead stopped walking so suddenly you nearly bumped into him.
"...Whoa." His eyes widened until they were almost comically round. "Do you smell that?"
"I was wondering how long it'd take you." You smiled knowingly.
"This place smells AMAZING." His stomach growled loudly enough that both of you heard it. Cuphead immediately looked down at it. "Traitor."
"I think it's agreeing with you." You laughed.
"I think it's yellin' at me." Still smiling from ear to ear, he hurried toward the entrance, holding the door open with an exaggerated bow. "After you."
You smiled warmly before stepping inside.
The tiny bell hanging above the bakery door gave a bright, cheerful jingle as the two of you stepped inside, the sound briefly cutting through the warm hum of conversation before being swallowed by the cozy atmosphere surrounding you. The moment the door closed behind you, the outside world seemed to melt away.
The noise of passing automobiles became muffled, the cool afternoon breeze instantly disappeared, and in its place came a comforting wave of warmth that wrapped around you like a soft blanket.
Fresh loaves of bread lined wooden shelves that stretched nearly from floor to ceiling, their golden crusts still carrying the faint crackle of having come fresh from the oven not long ago.
Behind spotless glass display cases sat rows upon rows of pastries arranged so neatly they almost looked too beautiful to eat. Delicate fruit tarts glistened beneath the overhead lights, cream-filled éclairs rested beside fluffy cream puffs dusted with powdered sugar, while braided loaves, buttery croissants, glazed buns, cinnamon rolls, cookies, cakes, cheesecakes, and countless other baked goods filled nearly every inch of the display.
The rich scent of roasted coffee beans and warm bread until it became impossible to tell where one smell ended and another began.
Soft jazz drifted through the bakery from a polished gramophone sitting near one corner of the room, its music blending naturally with the quiet chatter of customers enjoying their afternoon with each other.
For a few seconds Cuphead didn't move, he simply stared and admired everything around him.
"Wow." His eyes somehow widened even more than they had outside.
You watched his head slowly turn from one display case to another, then another, then another, like someone trying to decide which star to look at first in a sky full of constellations.
"This place is absolutely HUGE." He blinked.
A laugh escaped you before you could stop it.
"I was expecting that reaction."
Cuphead finally looked at you, pointing dramatically toward the nearest display case with both hands as though you might somehow miss the mountain of baked goods in front of you.
"LOOK! They got fresh pies!" His gaze darted elsewhere before you could even answer. "Oh! They got cream puffs as well!"
"WAIT, PRETZELS!" His smile somehow became even wider. "They got pretzzels too!"
A little girl seated nearby giggled quietly at his excitement while her mother smiled apologetically in your direction.
You simply smiled back and waved to both of them.
"He's always like this around food."
Cuphead either didn't hear you, or was too busy practically pressing his face against the glass display to notice.
He slowly walked alongside the display case, his hands resting lightly behind his back now as though he were visiting an art museum instead of a bakery. Every few steps he'd stop completely, lean closer to inspect something, then immediately move on after discovering something even more exciting just a few inches away.
"They got fruit tarts, chocolate bread, honey buns, little pies, big pies..." He gasped dramatically. "They got pies in different sizes!"
You laughed into your hand.
"No, seriously!" He looked back at you with complete sincerity. "That's incredible."
"Course it is!" He nodded as though explaining something incredibly obvious. "What if somebody wants pie but only THIS much pie?" He held his hands apart dramatically. Then he spread his arms much wider. "Or maybe they want THIIIIIS much pie!"
The elderly gentleman standing beside him chuckled into his newspaper. Cuphead looked over.
"A very important invention." The gentleman nodded solemnly.
"SEE?" Cuphead pointed triumphantly at him before looking back at you. "I ain't crazy."
He laughed loudly enough to earn another amused glance from the cashier behind the counter.
Speaking of the cashier, the young woman had been quietly watching Cuphead's tour of the bakery with an amused smile ever since he'd walked in.
Eventually she stepped forward, folding her hands politely over her apron.
Cuphead looked over immediately as gave her a nod, a huge smile on his face, showing himself to be polite despite his exaggerated reactions upon seeing all the food options around the bakery.
"Is it that obvious?" Cuphead asks with a confused expression while scratching the back of his head.
She glanced toward the display case.
"You inspected every pastry before saying hello."
"...Oh right." He laughed sheepishly. "I got distracted, my apologies."
"I noticed." She giggled softly before gesturing toward the menu written neatly on a chalkboard behind her. "So, what can I get for the two of you today?"
Cuphead opened his mouth. Closed it again. Then looked slowly back toward the display.
"...Can I get..." He pointed uncertainly. A short pause. "...One of everything, please?" He finishes, looking at the cashier with a confident expression as she blinks, staring at him. Wondering if she heard him right.
You covered your face with one hand, already trying not to laugh. You know Cuphead isn't kidding when he orders everything on the menu for the two of you — mostly for himself, to be fair.
Cuphead looked genuinely thoughtful.
"Actually," he began counting silently on his fingers. "Maybe not EVERYTHING. Just..." Cuphead looked back toward the display again. "...Most things, yep."
"I admire your ambition." The cashier laughed outright this time, resting one hand against the counter.
"I got a healthy appetite."
While Cuphead continued debating whether three different pastries counted as "too many", you quietly wandered toward another display case.
Almost immediately your attention settled on something else entirely.
Cheesecakes, perfectly arranged in small slices, each decorated differently. One with bright yellow passionfruit glaze shimmering beneath the lights, another topped with curls of white chocolate. A smooth mango cheesecake decorated with thin slices of fresh fruit, even one flavored with Bailey's.
You smiled instantly upon seeing all the wonderful food options available to you, already making your choice mentally. Cuphead noticed before you even realized he was standing beside you again.
"Oh?" He leaned over slightly, following your gaze. "You found somethin' you like?."
"I think I did." Your voice softened naturally. "I really like cheesecakes, they've been one of my favorites since the first time I tried some."
"Yeah?" His attention shifted from the display to your expression instead. The little smile on your face and the way your eyes lit up ever so slightly. He couldn't help smiling too. "Which one's your favorite?"
"Hm..." You studied the ones on display in front of you carefully. "I think the passionfruit one." You point at it with your finger, touching the glass lightly.
"They all look good, to be honest..." Cuphead looked between all of them, analyzing the shapes and colors, trying to differentiate which other flavors they might be.
"You'd say that about anything in here." You'll turn your face towards him, a playful expression on your face and an accusatory tone in your voice.
"But of course I absolutely would." He wasn't even embarrassed. "If it's edible I'm instantly interested." He shrugged.
"So..." Cuphead folded his arms dramatically as though discussing something very serious. "What's the game plan?"
"Mhm." He nodded once. "Whatcha orderin'?"
You glanced back toward the menu.
"I was thinking maybe the toasted sandwich and the passionfruit cheesecake." You place one of your hands on your chin, thinking. "Maybe a hot cocoa as well, I like the one I usually order at the local cafe"
Cuphead stared, as if he were honestly expecting you to want something more or different, he was hoping to spend all the money on his pockets on extravagant desserts with you to treat you for the entire day.
"...You absolutely sure?"
"Cuphead, I know what I like." You smiled knowingly.
"But..." He looked back toward the displays in absolute shock. "...There's SO MUCH."
"And you're only gettin' three things?"
"I don't have your stomach."
"I mean," he patted his chest proudly. "I'm just built different." Then his grin returned. "Guess that just means I gotta make up the difference."
"...Cuphead..." You already knew exactly where this was going.
"I ain't done orderin' yet." He looked back toward the cashier with the determination of someone preparing for a huge battle. "I've made my decision, ma'am."
"Of course, what would you want, hun?" The cashier smiled patiently.
"I'll take..." He immediately began pointing at pastries faster than either of you could follow. "A pretzel, cream puff, chocolate bread, honey bun, fruit tart, jam donut, mini pie, cheese roll and..." He paused dramatically as he counted each order on his fingers, glancing back at everything in front of you both.
The cashier was still smiling patiently at him, however you just closed your eyes for a few seconds, trying to hold your breath to not laugh at the audacity of his order.
"A cream soda, please." Cuphead finished.
The cashier wrote everything down without missing a beat and looked toward you.
"And for you, sweetheart?"
You told her what your order was. She bowed slightly to the two of you, telling you to make yourselves comfortable, that your orders would arrive shortly at the table of your choice if you two decide not to wait in front of the pastries display cases for her to come back as she grabs your food.
Cuphead glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. At the pastries in front of him. Then looked at you again, but this time looking directly at you.
You avoid the eye contact.
"You really are serious, huh?"
"I told you, I'm happy eating just these three options."
"Good." He smiled brightly.
"'Cause..." He pauses to create suspense. His grin softened into something warm and almost boyish, looking at you with a smug expression. "That means if I find somethin' really good..." He gently nudged your shoulder with his own. "You'll probably give it a bite too."
You looked at him for a second before smiling.
His smile somehow became even brighter.
"That's all I needed to hear.”
A few minutes later — probably only two minutes, the cashier handed the two of you a little numbered stand for your table, quickly apologizing in advance that some of the pastries and desserts you ordered are currently still being prepared and will be delivered to you both shortly soon.
You wandered farther into the bakery together.
Every table was made of polished dark wood, the chairs slightly worn from years of customers coming and going, giving the place an even homier feeling. Lace curtains framed the tall front windows, allowing warm afternoon sunlight to spill across the wooden floorboards in long golden strips that danced whenever someone opened the front door.
Near the windows, an elderly couple of ladies quietly shared a pot of tea, occasionally smiling at one another over their cups. A young family sat farther back, their children happily splitting a cinnamon roll.
The soft clink of porcelain cups, the rustling of paper bags, the quiet murmur of conversation, and the mellow jazz drifting from the gramophone all blended together into a comforting melody. Everything made the place feel less like a business and more like a place people simply loved spending time in with each other.
Cuphead looked around for a moment after checking the paper on his hand before pointing toward a booth beside the window.
"Ooh! That one!" He said enthusiastically, gently tapping your shoulder with the back of his hand before grinning. "We'll get to people-watch while we eat!" His eyes sparkled with genuine excitement as he glanced between you and the window. "We will be able to have a clear view of the outside with nothing blocking our views."
"I was hoping you'd pick that one." You followed his gaze while smiling, laughing a little as Cuphead dramatically bows down to you so you can take your seat. You walk towards the table, quickly sitting down.
"Mhm, the sunlight's nice and I like watching the town, I don't really know why." You looked toward the street outside where people wandered past carrying shopping bags, chatting with neighbors, or hurrying home from work.
Cuphead smiled warmly, admiring your calm expression and small smile on your face.
"...Yeah, so do I." Without another word, he slid into one side of the booth, immediately scooting over to give you plenty of room instead of stretching out across the seat like he usually did when he was alone. It was such a small gesture that he didn't even think about it.
The two of you had barely settled in before Cuphead rested both elbows on the table, leaning forward with a grin that practically radiated excitement.
"So..." He rubbed his gloved hands together dramatically. "Whaddya think's gonna get here first?"
"...Obviously, what else would be?"
"I'm puttin' my money on the pretzel." Cuphead says.
"You're betting on your own food, is that what I'm hearing?"
"Mhm! I got faith in my pretzel."
"You say that like it's a race."
"And who said it isn't?" He nodded with complete confidence. "The pastries are competin'."
"They still wanna win the competition in my stomach."
"You're impossible, I hope you know that." You couldn't help laughing, shaking your head fondly.
"I've been told." He sighed and leaned back proudly. "Usually by Mugman, but it's alright."
Only a few minutes later, the waitress carefully approached carrying a large tray balanced expertly on one hand.
Cuphead's eyes immediately lit up.
"Oh boy." He sat up straighter so quickly the booth squeaked beneath him. "Our food is here!"
One by one, the dishes were placed neatly on the table.
Your toasted sandwich and a steaming mug of hot cocoa, tiny wisps of fragrant steam curling upward and carrying hints of chocolate and cinnamon with them, your passionfruit cheesecake right beside the drink, its glossy topping shining beneath the sunlight filtering through the windows.
Cuphead's side. With everything he had ordered.
The waitress blinked at the mountain of exactly eight pastries and one single soda before looking towards Cuphead with a confused expression.
"...Will there be anyone else joining you?"
"No, why?" Cuphead looked confused as well.
She gestured politely toward the table.
"I just wanted to make sure."
Realization dawned on him.
"Oh!" He laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Nah, that's... all me."
The waitress smiled with admirable professionalism.
"I really wish you the best of luck."
As soon as she calmly placed all your orders on the table and walked away, you slowly looked from his side of the table to yours. Then back again.
"That doesn't even fit on your side anymore."
He looked down, there was barely enough room left even for his own cream soda.
"...Huh. You're right." He shrugged. "Totally worth it."
For a few seconds, neither of you touched the food.
You decided to take a few sips of your cocoa before it gets cold, while Cuphead simply stared at everything in front of him like an excited child on their birthday morning, his eyes darting from one pastry to another as though trying to decide which deserved the honor of being eaten first.
"Ugh! This is harder than I thought."
"Having second thoughts?" You smiled over the rim of your cocoa.
"No!" He answered so quickly you almost laughed. "I just— the pretzel's still callin' my name first." He pointed toward each pastry one after another."But so's the cream puff, and the chocolate bread looks so mysterious as well."
"Yeah, it knows somethin' and it's dark too."
"Exactly." He narrowed his eyes at it. "...What's it hidin'?"
"It's in the name, the bread is hiding chocolate inside it." You couldn't stop yourself from laughing.
People at nearby tables glanced over, smiling as they watched the conversation, already used to Cuphead's behavior for the past few years, but it's always fun to witness it up close like this.
Cuphead beamed the moment he heard you laugh, immediately getting that warm little feeling in his chest. He never really questioned why making you laugh always felt like winning a prize to him.
Finally, he made his decision.
"Yep, the pretzel." He reached toward it with surprising ceremony, lifting it carefully in both hands as though it were some priceless artifact. "Ladies and gentlemen..." He cleared his throat dramatically. "The first contestant."
"Do you always narrate your meals?" You rested your chin in your hand, already smiling.
"Only the important ones and, obviously, for entertainment."
"This..." He held the pretzel slightly higher. "...Could be life-changing for those who have never tasted such a delicious pretzel before."
"You haven't even tasted it yet."
"Exactly." He leaned in. "The suspense. Will it taste absolutely delicious or will it just taste normal? So many possibilities."
Rolling your eyes affectionately, you chuckled.
He nodded once before taking a generous bite. A crunch. The crisp outer crust gave way immediately to a warm, fluffy center.
He chewed and paused, his eyes widened.
Another bite — even bigger this time.
"Oh!" He swallowed quickly before looking at you with complete disbelief. "It's SO good!— I mean..." He looked down at the pretzel again. "I knew it'd probably be good but I didn't know it'd be this good! This might actually be the best pretzel I've ever had." His shoulders lifted excitedly as he laughed to himself.
Without a second thought, he tore off a piece and held it toward you.
You looked at the piece of pretzel, then back at him.
"It's okay, I already got what I really wanted—"
"C'mon." His smile softened, becoming encouraging rather than pushy. "Just one bite, you don't gotta eat the whole thing. It's just in case you might like it and want to order it another day."
"I know, it's just..." You hesitated a bit. "I usually stick to things I already know I like."
"I know and that's okay, I don't want you to try something you don't want to." His voice stayed gentle, he shrugged casually. "But if ya end up likin' it, then hey! You found somethin' new. And if ya don't..." He popped another piece into his own mouth. "More for me."
That earned another laugh from you.
"You planned that answer."
You smiled before carefully taking the little piece from his hand. It was still warm enough that you could feel the heat through your fingertips, you studied it for just a moment before taking a small bite. The outside was lightly salted, giving way to a soft, buttery interior that almost melted in your mouth.
Cuphead leaned so far across the table you were fairly certain he was about to fall out of the booth.
"...It is actually really good."
The grin that spread across his face could have rivaled the afternoon sun pouring through the bakery windows.
"I KNEW IT!" He pointed triumphantly at you. "I told ya! I know you well enough just like that."
"I knew it'd win ya over!"
"I didn't say it won me over." You smiled teasingly. "I simply said it was good."
"Well, that's step one." He nodded confidently. "By the end of today you'll be stealin' bites off my plate."
"We'll see." His eyes sparkled mischievously.
As you both laughed, neither of you noticed the elderly couple sitting a few tables away exchanging knowing smiles.
One of the ladies quietly leaned towards her wife.
Her wife chuckled softly before taking another sip of tea.
"They don't even realize it, especially him."
Cuphead, completely oblivious, was already reaching for his next pastry, blissfully unaware that nearly everyone in the bakery had quietly assumed the two of you were on a date.
The afternoon seemed to disappear before either of you realized it.
One stop at the bakery somehow turned into wandering through nearly half the town together.
After finishing your meals — and after Cuphead insisted you try far more pastries than you'd originally planned — you both spent the rest of the day strolling through the lively streets with no real destination in mind.
Every time one of you suggested heading home, something else caught your attention.
A record shop with music drifting through its open windows. A little bookstore where Cuphead spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to pronounce overly complicated novel titles. A park where the two of you ended up sitting on a bench for nearly half an hour simply watching ducks and trying to pat them.
He won you a tiny stuffed animal at a carnival game after dramatically proclaiming he was "a professional ring toss champion," only to completely miss his first three throws before somehow landing every remaining one.
You laughed until your sides hurt.
He bought the two of you milkshakes when the afternoon became warm. You shared it with each other simply because Cuphead had insisted there was "always room for one more."
By the time the sun began sinking below the rooftops, painting the town in soft oranges, pinks, and golds, neither of you had really accomplished anything.
And somehow, it had been one of the nicest days either of you could remember.
The streets had grown quieter by the time Cuphead walked you home.
The lively crowds from earlier had thinned into scattered couples, families heading home for dinner, and the occasional automobile rumbling down the road. Street lamps flickered to life one by one as evening settled over the neighborhood, casting warm pools of light across the sidewalks.
Cuphead walked beside you with his hands tucked comfortably into his pockets, occasionally kicking a loose pebble ahead of himself before catching up to it again.
"I'm tellin' ya," he said, shaking his head. "That duck absolutely wanted to bite my hand off."
"It did not." You laughed.
"You tried to pick it up first instead of trying to give it a little pat first."
"Only 'cause I knew it wouldn't let me pat it! Ducks are always so suspicious of others."
"They can still be suspicious of who's around them."
"You're impossible." You looked over at him, smiling, slightly shaking your head.
"I've heard that once or twice today just from you."
"Alright." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Maybe a couple hundred times, this will become part of your vocabulary whenever you talk to me. I bet"
Another laugh escaped you, the familiar sound made him grin without thinking. For a few moments, comfortable silence settled between you again, although neither of you seemed bothered by it.
Eventually your house came into view.
"There it is." Cuphead said cheerfully, pointing toward your front porch as though you somehow hadn't recognized your own home.
"I was wondering when we'd get here."
"What, ya gettin' tired of my company already?" he teased.
"That's good, the sentiment is mutual." His smile softened.
You climbed the few wooden steps leading onto your porch while Cuphead stopped at the bottom, rocking lightly on his heels like he always did whenever he wasn't standing completely still.
"Well..." he said with a small chuckle. "Guess this is where I leave ya."
He shoved his hands back into his pockets.
"Thanks for invitin' me today."
"You should be thanking me?" You asked with an amused smile.
"I was the one who wanted to go."
"Yeah, but..." He shrugged casually. "I got to eat some amazing food with the most amazing person in the world— besides my brother."
"I had a feeling that's what you'd say." You laughed.
"And I got to spend the whole day with one of my favorite people."
The words came out so naturally that Cuphead didn't even think about them, to him, they were simply true.
Your smile became just a little softer.
"I had a really wonderful time too."
"See?" He pointed proudly. "Told ya it'd be fun."
For another brief moment, neither of you spoke.
The evening breeze rustled the nearby trees while somewhere farther down the street a radio played soft jazz from an open window.
You reached into your pocket and pulled out your house key.
"You bet." Cuphead nodded immediately. "Maybe next week we can do this again? We can still hang out with Mugman tomorrow though."
You turned toward your front door, sliding the key into the lock. The metal clicked, your hand rested on the doorknob.
Instead of opening it, you paused.
"You forgot somethin'?" Cuphead tilted his head slightly.
You turned back around. For just a second, you simply looked at him. His cheerful expression hadn't changed, he looked exactly the same as he had all afternoon. Warm, comfortable and safe.
Without saying a word, you walked back down the single porch step separating the two of you.
Then you wrapped both of your arms around him. A real hug, tight enough that he instinctively froze.
For one startled heartbeat, his arms remained awkwardly at his sides before instinct finally caught up with him. He slowly hugged you back.
"Thanks, Cup," you said quietly, voice was gentle. "Today was amazing." You smiled against his shoulder. "Thank you for the date."
His eyebrows lifted ever so slightly.
"And..." You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands still resting lightly against his arms. "Thank you for always making me smile, my cheeks still hurt from it."
Cuphead simply stared. His mouth opened and closed.
"...Aw..." A sheepish grin slowly spread across his face. "I'm... really glad."
You smiled one last time.
With that, you finally let go. You gave him one last warm wave before turning back toward your front door, unlocking and opening it.
"Have a good night, Cuphead."
The door closed softly behind you.
Cuphead remained exactly where he was — completely still. The evening breeze drifted past him as a smile slowly spread across his face.
"...Heh..." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm really happy they had fun."
Something warm settled comfortably in his chest.
It had been one of the best days he'd had in... honestly, he couldn't even remember how long. Knowing you had enjoyed it just as much somehow made it even better.
He looked at your front door one last time before turning toward the sidewalk.
"See ya tomorrow..." Still smiling to himself, he began walking home.
He stopped, his foot hovered awkwardly in midair before slowly lowering back onto the pavement. His smile faltered.
"...'Date'?" The word echoed in his head. He blinked.
He replayed the last few seconds.
"Thank you for the date." His eyes widened. "...Date?" He looked back toward your house, towards the ground, then back towards your house again.
The bakery. Walking around town together. Sharing food. Him insisting on paying. Winning you that stuffed toy. Walking you home. The hug. The way you'd smiled at him all day.
Cuphead's mouth slowly fell open.
"...Hold on..." He rubbed the side of his cup, trying to organize his thoughts. "...That was..." Another long pause. "...That was a date."
Not just hanging out. Not just another afternoon.
His face somehow managed to look both completely stunned and deeply confused at the same time.
His eyebrows slowly climbed higher.
"If..." He pointed towards your front door. "...If today was a date..." Then slowly pointed toward himself. "...And I was on the date, does that mean..." Another pause. "...I was your date?"
The realization hit him all at once.
Everything suddenly started making a little more sense.
Why you'd looked nicer than usual. Why you'd seemed nervous when you first opened the door. Why people had smiled at the two of you all afternoon. Why that elderly couple at the bakery had kept looking over. Why sharing food had somehow felt different today.
And... Why he'd spent the entire day wanting to hear you laugh, how every smile from you had made him feel strangely proud and why walking beside you had felt so natural. Simply seeing you happy had become the highlight of his day.
Cuphead stared blankly at the sidewalk.
"...I..." His hand slowly rested against his chest, his heart was beating just a little faster than normal. "...I think..." A nervous laugh escaped him, his grin returned. Smaller this time — softer. "...I like 'em like that."
Not just as a friend. Not just as someone fun to spend time with.
That explanation suddenly didn't seem big enough anymore, nothing about today had felt like "just friends."
And judging by what you'd said, maybe — just maybe, you didn't think so either.
Cuphead stood there for another few seconds beneath the glow of the streetlamp, smiling to himself before quietly chuckling.
"...Well..." He adjusted his suspenders. "I sure am late figurin' that one out."
Still smiling — perhaps even brighter than before — he finally continued walking home.
This time, knowing exactly why today had felt so different.
Author's note: I've had this in my drafts for a few days and I just finished it now just because. I hope you guys enjoyed it. <3
I'll keep posting some requests as I recover slowly, please don't rush me to post something new every day, I'm just one person writing all of these over my phone.
