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onlyswan · 1 year

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summary: in which cruel fate leads you and jungkook to bright places.

> fluff, a little twinge of angst? / wc: 4.2k

> warnings: none really. but if you’ve read the grocery store drabble, you really get lost in this one. hehe

note: oc!!! stop making him worry like this. cries in i love sweet boy jungkook sooo much. + i enjoyed writing this :[ <3 listened to cigs after sex while i was at it. and as you can tell i got very. carried away. scratches head. researching about pokemon bread was also kind of fun?

—

love is selfless— it’s what they often say. however, on his way home from work, jungkook finds himself admitting his ugly truth: he is selfish. when he arrives at your shared space, he will tangle his limbs with yours and let you drag him across the floor to wherever it is you need to go. he will hold on to you, and never let go. he will abandon the concept of time at the farthest corner of his mind, along with his exhaustive musings and responsibilities. instead, he will be consumed by you.

and sometimes, he finds that the telepathy connecting the two of you is baffling.

because he’s definitely not thinking about anything else but you. he’s scouring the entire apartment for any trace of life, but you’re nowhere to be found. the bed is still made. the bathroom lights are off. the pillows on the couch are organized. the center table is spotless. the kitchen is clean. he opens the trash bin, and the last thing tossed in there is still the egg tray he discarded this morning. he checks the laundry room, but the only clothes of yours in the laundry basket are from yesterday.

he ends up deciding that you’re not playing hide-and-seek with him like he originally thought. he sits on the counter top, anxiously playing with his lipring as he calls your number. again. and again. and again.

you did tell him earlier that you were going to visit the library, but it already closed an hour ago, so you should be home by now. moreover, if you were going to drop by other places, you would’ve updated him that you’d be home later at night. but you didn’t. the last text you sent him was a captured photo of page 73, an overview about thyme. you reminded him that he once mentioned that he wanted to grow some herbs in your balcony, so you’re doing some old-fashioned research about them in the library.

and thank heavens you answer the call on his fifth try, because he’s about to have a breakdown in the middle of your kitchen.

“jungkook!”

not to be dramatic, but if he was standing, his knees would’ve collapsed on the tiled floor at the sound of your voice. he swallows the lump in his throat, breathes deeply to unload the weight sitting on his chest.

“where are you?”

“oh, right! about that-” you chuckle nervously, and he can already imagine you tapping your foot against the floor. “wait. let me just-”

“how long? i can’t wait. i miss you. tell me where you are and i’ll pick you up.” he hops off the counter, making a beeline to the front door.

“yes, pick me up. please. i’m not sure where i am exactly but i just checked and my location is still turned on with you.”

oh shit. the location feature. why didn’t he think of that? and what do you mean by-

he pauses on his tracks, car keys back in his hand not even twenty minutes since he got off his car. “baby, how do you not know where you are?”

“uhm, i fell asleep in the bus . . . then i panicked and got off because i thought i missed my stop. but you’re not gonna believe what happened next!”

he squeezes his eyes shut, fingers massaging his temple because he has a bad feeling about this. “okay. try me.”

“i realized i actually got on the wrong bus. stupid, right?” you giggle through the phone speaker, and it’s both endearing and ridiculous that you can still laugh in this situation.

nevermind that, he’s just relieved that you’re safe.

“i walked for a while and found this convenience store with a charging station. i emptied my battery trying to book a taxi but none accepted me!”

your whiny voice makes him smile, although he looked forward to hearing it more when he planned to be disgustingly clingy and affectionate.

“i’ll go, baby. just wait for me there, okay?” he presses the down button, waiting for the elevator to arrive.

“okaaay.” you reply in a sing-song voice.

he puts you on speaker mode when he enters, checking on your location to see how far you’ve strayed from home. you got on the wrong bus. no mistake about that.

“you’re an hour and three minutes away.”

he hears you choke out a cough from the other line, most probably on a drink. “an hour?! by foot, right?”

“no,” he chuckles. late night drives with you aren’t new, so he doesn’t mind it one bit. “by car.”

silence fills the air for a few seconds. “then i’ll drive on the way back. i’m about to eat ramyeon so i’ll be energized!”

“let’s see if i get too tired to drive. just stay on the phone for me, okay?”

“wait- i’m hungry. need to go put hot water in my noodles. let’s switch to video call.”

when he accepts the video call, he’s greeted by the candy and chocolate shelf in landscape view. you probably propped up your phone on the charging station, so he adjusts his phone’s position to match yours. and you . . . are nowhere to be found. again.

he’s already driving out on the road when you appear on his screen. you smile at him, waving the chopsticks in your hand.

“i’ll do a live mukbang for you in a few minutes.”

he takes a brief glance, memorizing the way you look before reverting his attention to the road. a small smile grows on his face, a huge wave of love flooding his system. “you look so pretty today.”

“thank you. it took me thirty minutes to pick out my outfit.” you chirp happily before revealing the hand hidden behind your back, holding up a special item you stumbled upon during your little adventure. “look what i found! do you want it?”

“what is it?” he asks as he makes a turn.

“team rocket’s pokemon bread. it’s chocolate.” you inspect the bread again to confirm that you’re correct. “it’s the last one on the shelf so i just bought it.”

his eyes widen in surprise, lips forming an ‘o’. he personally knows many people who have been visiting stores until the late hours to buy them. it’s all the rage nowadays.

“oh? you actually found one?!”

“don’t you think fate led me here for this?” you gush excitedly.

he finally stops at a red light, taking a good look at you with fondness. “you’re giving it to me?”

“yes. enjoy it, okay? i walked in boots for this.” you point at the camera threateningly.

so adorable. he misses you so much.

he obediently crosses his fingers to forge a promise. “i won’t leave a single crumb uneaten.”

“good boy,” you poke the camera as if you’re booping his nose. “i left my food too long. i’ll go get my overcooked ramyeon now.”

you disappear again, and he resumes his journey leading to you. you return moments later, devouring a cup of ramyeon. you’re holding it with some tissue paper. you were never really good with touching hot things— you drop them without thinking twice . . . which is a health hazard.

and it stays like that for a little while. as jungkook drives, he looks at you and the navigation guide every now and then. just to make sure he’s turning to the correct lefts and rights as the voice says; and to give himself the assurance that you didn’t stray somewhere else again. you, on the other hand, is too focused on your food to give your boyfriend a smidge of attention. that’s how mukbang asmr is, right? only eating sounds?

the cashier is probably thinking of you funny for eating infront of your boyfriend via video call in a public place. you couldn’t care less. it’s been a long day, and staying still in this small corner of the earth feels oddly comforting.

you’re in the middle of sipping down the leftover broth at the bottom of the cup when you hear movement from the aisle behind you. being nosy as you are, you find yourself taking a peek. you take quick and light steps back to jungkook to tell him about what you saw.

“babe, they’re restocking the pokemon breads. i’m the only person left here.” you whisper with one hand covering your mouth from the side, as if you’re sharing a secret. “i’ll buy more.”

he unconsciously copies the gesture and the volume of your voice. “do they have the other flavors too?”

“yes. keep driving safe. be right back.”

you dash to the other aisle, and jungkook and the long row of kitkats play a staring contest in the middle of traffic yet again.

familiar with your nature, it is entertaining to watch you participate in the pokemon bread hunt out of the blue. very on-brand and-

“so competitive.” he laughs to himself.

—

“hi!” you beam at the camera, hugging the paper bag inhabited by your new prized possessions. “uh, we have eight in total. i bought one of each flavor so there’s two team rocket now. and three jigglypuff bread just because- um-”

jungkook stifles his laughter. oh, of course you did.

“it’s so cute. i couldn’t help myself.” you sigh, slightly feeling guilty. other people do hoard them and buy everything off the shelf, so you think about that to feel less bad about taking all the jigglypuffs.

fuck. if you’re being this cute over a jigglypuff bread, he might just have to join everyone and do convenience store raids, too.

“you’re kind for still leaving some. i saw a person in the internet buy all the pokemon breads in the store they went to.”

“right?! i saw that, too.” you exclaim, relieved that you had the same thought as him.

“did you get me my pikachu, though?”

“of course. pikachu must always be present!” you answer proudly as you unplug your phone after seeing that it’s already at 50%. “i’m getting bored here. there’s a thrift shop just beside this, so i’ll go see if they’re still opened.”

jungkook drums his fingers on the steering wheel, following a beat he’s making up on the spot. “alright. i’m only fifteen minutes away, so don’t go anywhere else.”

”yes, sir.”

“and don’t end the call.”

“i won’t. you’ll miss me.”

he clicks his tongue before sighing, expressing his frustrating sorrow. “i already do.”

—

the air from outside is warmer, and it engulfs you the second you pull the door open. it makes your skin feel sticky and uncomfortable. the thought of going back inside enters your mind, but the idea gets shot down immediately after. might get tempted to buy more bread.

the thrift shop heavily contrasts the vivid conveniece store. there is no door. racks of pre-loved clothing greet you by the entrance, leading to more of them inside. a lone warm lightbulb illuminates the cramped space, hanging in the middle of the dirty white ceiling. and the smell. oh, the smell— it causes nostalgia to rush throughout your body.

a woman emerges from the wooden counter. she’s in her 50s, if you had the guess. you make eye-contact, and her kind eyes eases your uncertainty about whether you’re allowed to enter or not.

“you can still look around if you want. i’m just cleaning before i close up.”

“oh, thank you!” you politely bow before approaching the long rack of shirts and long-sleeves against the wall. you’ve been eyeing them since the moment you arrived.

left with no other choice, you leave the paper bag of pokemon breads on the floor, under one of the racks. you carefully lean your phone against a shoe on the shelf above it, just a little higher than your eye-level. you smile unbeknownst to yourself. your jungkook looks extra handsome when driving. while he admittedly has a short attention span, he’s very focused on the road when he’s behind the wheel.

you’re already browsing through the clothes when he glances at his phone. he can only see half your face, but he also hears your fast hands pushing back the hanger of the ones that don’t capture your interest.

your love for shopping doubled when you entered a relationship with jungkook, because purchasing items you think he like or need also brings you an unexplainable joy. it’s not limited to clothes or accessories. for example, you bought him white and blue acrylic paint two months ago because you noticed that he used them all up for a project.

after more or less ten minutes, there are already two t-shirts and one sweater hanging on your forearm. one of the t-shirt is yours. it matches with one of your trousers that you barely wear.

you’ve walked past the camera frame when you stumble upon a black bomber jacket, looking so cool and brand-new, which explains why it’s a bit on the pricier side. and you know jungkook has a lot of other black jackets back at home, but you just can’t help yourself because it reminds you so much of him.

it’s so jungkook. you can’t allow it to live in another person’s closet.

you approach the counter with the clothes you picked out. the woman halts her sweeping outside, leaving the broom against the wall before wiping her hands on her long skirt, the floral print noticeably faded with time. you hastily grab the belongings you left unattended, putting your phone’s microphone on mute to keep your little surprise.

there’s no paper bills left in your wallet after spending all your money on food and clothes. with a grimace, you drop it inside your bag. you were only supposed to go to the library today, spend a little money on bus fare and lunch. perhaps, spontaneously add in a little snack in between. however, this is called spontaneity out of hand.

“are these for your boyfriend’s birthday?” the woman asks in a hushed, yet teasing, voice as she folds up the jacket.

two pairs of eyes fall on the phone you’re holding, and you smile sheepishly. “i’m trying to make everyday his birthday.”

“he’s very handsome. you better take good care of him!”

you cover your face in embarrassment, silently laughing. “we take good care of each other! he’s coming to pick me up because i couldn’t find a taxi.”

“oh dear, are you new here?” she stuffs the jacket in the big plastic bag, along with the other clothes you bought. “there’s barely any taxis here after 9pm. everyone just walks. many complaints about it, but good exercise for my rusty bones when they ask me.”

“i’ll keep that in mind for next time.” you wrap your left arm around the bag of clothes, sliding it off the counter until you’re carrying its full weight. “thank you again. have a great night! and stay healthy!”

you stumble on the single step leading outside because the weight of the breads and clothes are unbalanced. thankfully, you make it out of the shop without a scratch. the woman bids you a safe trip and picks up the broom, the melancholia of night-time quietness blanketing her home once again.

you look down at your phone to find that the video call with jungkook has ended, but before you can question him, a familiar voice sings your name from a close distance.

“jungkook!” you call out to him, crossing the distance between you in high spirits. “you really came for me!”

jungkook shakes his head in disbelief. “you really thought i’d leave you here stranded? you always make me worried.”

“i never do it on purpose.” you frown, shoulders sagged with guilt.

“that makes it more worrisome.” he breathes out a sigh. “come here. i missed you.”

“i want to hug you, but my hands are full.”

he takes a step forward and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you in a tight embrace. he feels you give a chaste kiss to his jaw before leaning your cheek on his shoulder, and just like that, his anxiety melts away. your favorite perfume invades his sense of smell. as a person with a sensitive nose, many perfumes often give him a headache. he is in love with yours. it’s sweet and subtle; it feels like coming home.

“i was so excited to come home but you weren’t there.”

“i’m sorry for always making you worry. i’ll be more mindful next time.” you apologize to him with a kiss on the cheek, and you feel it rise against your lips when he smiles. “oh no, wait. the bread- they’re going to get all mushed up.”

he reluctantly untangles himself from you, taking away the heavy load you’re carrying without you having to ask. this is when you swiftly snatch the car keys from his hand.

“i want to drive this time.”

he breathes out a sigh of relief. “oh my god, thank you. i’m getting sleepy.”

—

it’s impossible not to quickly look over to the passenger seat when a bright flash fills the vehicle. surprise, surprise! instead of sleeping, jungkook is taking pictures of the packs of pokemon bread he eagerly arranged on his lap.

“that flash is brighter than the sun.”

he throws a thumbs-up with an overly enthusiastic voice. “samsung!”

you swear, every chance he gets he promotes thei-

“don’t you dare steal my jigglypuff.”

he raises his arms in surrender, making balloons with his cheeks. “i just didn’t know they were strawberry flavored. i’m tasting team rocket’s chocolate rolls first. namjoon-hyung likes it.”

he carefully tears it from the other side to keep team rocket’s image unharmed. he takes a bite from the choco roll, and feeds the remaining half to you.

“mhmmm.” he hums, eyebrows furrowed in sheer delight. “it’s so good? i’m glad you bought another.”

he divides another roll in the middle. he munches on his share as he waits for you to finish your first bite. while he does as such, he suddenly perks up when he remembers the story he was supposed to tell you.

“i saw a group of guys enter the convenience store when i arrived earlier. they were looking for pokemon bread, too.”

“how’d you know?”

“i heard one of them say ‘this one better have the gastly bread or i will cry.’” he imitates the stranger’s deep voice speaking in a whiny manner. “it was funny.”

“then he’s probably on his way home crying now.” your giggles create a harmony.

that store did not have gastly bread, unfortunately.

—

“moment of truth.”

jungkook locates the pokemon sticker after you finish the rest of the bread. you wait with bated breath as he unveils the first out of eight stickers.

he gasps as he comes face-to-face with- “it’s snorlax! number 143 . . . 143.” he freezes as he scans his memory for the special meaning of the number code. “doesn’t that mean ‘i love you’?”

“it does,” you confirm with a grin. “i told you it was fate! isn’t it the best love confession?”

while living with you is a type of intimacy he values greatly, and protects everyday, getting lost in unfamiliar places with you has a charm of its own. it’s one of the days when he allows himself to say: jungkook, you lived well today.

he presses the sticker on your cheek, giving you a kiss through snorlax. “i love you, too.”

—

“since we can’t finish all these bread tonight, we’ll open the rest tomorrow.” jungkook announces as he sets down the plastic bag on the floor. in the meantime, snorlax is kept in his wallet for safety purposes.

he carries the clothes to his lap next, curious eyes and curious hands taking out the items one by one. he squeaks a sound of amazement. “you found quite a lot in that shop.”

“they had a lot of good stuff. i got the dark green-ish shirt. the rest are for you.”

he holds the baby blue sweater by the shoulders, letting the rest of it unfold and hang suspended in the air. “this one is so pretty.”

“oh! i really like that one. might borrow it a lot.”

“you’d look pretty in it. especially in the winter.” he says fondly. the mental image of you wearing it surrounded by snow is making him miss the season that just passed.

you pout. “but i got it for you. so wear it more than me.”

“i will. i want to wear it to work right after laundry day.” you beam in contentment, and he pats your head appreciatively. “you’re so fucking cute, baby. thank you for buying it for me.”

the black jacket catches his attention next, and the galaxies in his eyes sparkle as he takes in its the details and overall appearance. “this is totally my style! how does it look so brand-new?”

“right? it’s a steal so i had to buy it!”

jungkook chews on his bottom lip, a conscious effort to restrain himself from attacking you with hugs and kisses. buying treats and gifts for each other on random days— it’s grown to be a second nature in your relationship. this is why you always go on trips on birthdays and anniversaries instead of buying big gifts. he loves that there’s no pressure, and the element of surprise never fades. he loves that he knows what you like, and you know what he likes. a huge part of what makes him who he is has permanently resided in who you are, and vice versa. he will carry you with him for the rest of his life, just like the food he learned to love because his childhood friend forced him to have a bite, and how he adds a bar on top of the letter J because it reminds him of the number 7.

so from now on, he will refuse to wear any other jacket but the one you bought him, and he will think of you every time the sky is baby blue.

“i think this is going to be one of those clothes i’d wear all the time. like the first sneakers you got me.”

“oh god,” you chuckle at the old memory. if people didn’t know he was rich, they would’ve thought he only had one pair of shoes. “you really wore those out.”

“that’s how much i loved it!”

“okay, but you need to wash it before wearing it.”

“i’ll wake up earlier to do laundry.” he starts planning out his day inside his head as he folds up the clothes to put back inside the bag. but then he traces his thoughts two hours backwards, and he is reminded physical affection he’s been craving the whole day.

“can we cuddle when we get home?”

“of course, my love.” you raise an eyebrow in question. “when do we not cuddle?”

“i just missed you a lot today.” he sighs, turning over to his side to look at you. perhaps, also to memorize the street lights reflecting on your face, and how your beige cardigan has slipped down your shoulder. oh, the urge to write a song at this magical moment.

“what’s wrong? did anything bad happen today?” pure concern adorns your voice. you hate it when he’s sad. so much. you want to shield him from everything bad in the world.

“nothing.” his face starts to feel flushed, one of the dead giveaways that he’s emotional. “i just love you, that’s all. you get it, right?”

you have never been more grateful to meet a light that just turned red.

you solely focus on him momentarily, combing his hair with your fingers because it always helps him to relax. “feeling a little overwhelmed, is that it?”

he only nods as a reply. he catches your hand in his to give your knuckles a kiss, plushy lips caressing the tough bones of your doting hand.

“we’re almost home. wanna cuddle in the bathtub?” you propose when you recognize the familiar scenery through his window. the promising comfort and safety of your home causes exhaustion to come crashing down on you. your muscles are suffering the consequences of your actions, and therefore, are asking for compensation.

jungkook seems to be relishing in the idea, doe eyes sparkling instead of shining with unshed tears. “please, that sounds nice. but i’m sorry for when i fall asleep in there.”

—

you laugh nervously as you enter your parking lot. you do have your license, but you don’t drive very often. maybe three times a month at most. you find driving to be energy consuming despite being seated, so you much prefer commuting because it also serves as your rest time before and after attending to your duties.

“i need to reverse park before we can get into the bathtub, so you have to help me.”

and yes, additionally, you just simply hate reverse parking with burning passion.

“why do you hate reverse parking so much?” your boyfriend asks out of curiosity.

good question.

“i know we have cameras now, but i’m still always scared of bumping into other cars.”

he flashes you his old-fashioned captivating smirk, resting his hand behind the driver’s seat. what makes it funnier is that you’re not even looking. you’re too preoccupied with finding your parking space.

he raises his eyebrows teasingly, doe eyes turning into small slits as they do when he’s playfully flirting. “you don’t have to be scared of such thing, baby. i’ll pay for the damages.”

“you’re jinxing it! i’ll definitely mess up that ferrari now!”

—

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luminitewrites · 1 year

Text

In a Different Light: Scene Two

Back with part two of the Sleuth Jesters!actor AU! AO3 link is above, but the entire chapter will also be included below, as usual. And of course, many thanks to @naffeclipse for these characters who have lived rent free in my head for months now hehe <3

Hope you all enjoy! It's time for those other kisses.

Rating: T Word Count: ~23,300 Content Warnings: Very mildly suggestive content Summary: The animatronic sighs heavily.

“Yes, I know I should have gone with the handcuffs instead. But why else am I supposed to wear suspenders if not to seductively slide them off for you one at a time?”

As he says this, he reaches up and hooks a finger underneath one of the straps. His air is nothing short of coy, like an idea has just taken shape in his devious mind, and he slowly eases the fabric across his shoulder, flirting with slipping it over the edge. A curled metal digit suggestively rubs the suspender. It would probably have a much greater effect on you if his little show wasn’t currently being backed by cheery elevator music, and that alone has your lips spasmodically twitching.

Sun gives the impression of waggling his brows, rife with an emotion you refuse to label.

“Are you seduced yet?” he croons.

~~~

The city streets on New Year’s Eve paint a scene of winter white awash in the pale yellow shine from stores and lampposts. Strings of warm lights keep the sidewalks appearing deceptively cozy, but you know that just beyond the cold glass of the car window is an even brutally colder world. The temperature at last dipped to the single digits today, and with the sun having just disappeared below the horizon, casting the sky in a dark blue and gray mix, everything will freeze over tonight.

Craning your neck so that you can see the sky better, you know that the heavy darkness that greets you from above holds layers of clouds thick with snow. The forecast you caught a glimpse of on the TV before Moon had ushered you out of your home stated that the snowfall accumulation was anticipated to reach an extra five inches.

Probable reason to stay indoors. That hasn’t stopped your work party from staying on schedule at some ritzy, swanky hotel the city is known for, and nothing short of a disaster will impede the event. The show must go on, or so the producer had said. Attendance isn’t mandatory, as today is a company-observed holiday, but it is heavily encouraged since the one previously planned earlier had to be postponed to tonight. Maybe you’re the fool for going to this one, but you’ve actually been really looking forward to it. It’s a chance to celebrate with everyone all the hard work they’ve put into each scene. When the final episode of your team’s triumphant efforts airs, another party will be due, but this one feels extra special despite filming not being done yet. You’re welcoming in the new year together, and after all the time you’ve spent getting to know your coworkers, not going to the party held tonight would feel like you’re missing out immensely. You need this reprieve just as much as everyone else does.

And… well. The present company attending the party certainly factors into your desire to go. One-third of your favorite attendees sits next to you now, and you pull away from the window of the car to peer at Moon instead.

The beloved hat from his detective costume remains firm on his head—the sole piece he seems to have grown a deep attachment to. It suits him well and almost makes you feel like you’re still in the middle of a shoot, acting out a scene with Detective Moon in his patrol car as you scour the city together.

His gloved hands rest on the wheel, and his eyes remain fixated on the road ahead. A very good thing, given his typical driving habits and the fact that you’re sure he knows most of the city police by name now. Not by choice either. That’s exactly why you didn’t relay to Sun or Eclipse how you were getting to the party until you’d fastened your seatbelt. For one, when Moon had offered to come pick you up and escort you to the hotel, how could you have possibly said no to that? It sure beats paying for an expensive lift to the event. For another, the texts you’ve since received are nothing short of concerned. After the string of praying emojis Sun had posted in the group chat, you’d decided to just put away your phone for the time being.

You’ll be fine. Moon hasn’t hit any obstacles yet, literal or figurative, though that was a bit of a close brush with a tree he had on that last turn.

As he often does, he senses your eyes on him without needing to check.

“I can feel your stare digging into my faceplate. What is it?” His voice starts out in that soft grumble you’ve come to adore, but then his low pitch lifts to a little more lilting—a tease. “See something you like, maybe?”

The instinctive response that wants to clamber out of your throat is quickly choked down. Even though he’s the one who’s mentioned it, you suspect he has no idea. You’ve long since soared past “liking” him. That conversation you had with Eclipse weeks ago has not left your thoughts since. Every day at work, every night in bed, you’ve thought about what he’d said. What he’d done. You now know that the attraction you feel for the others is not just in your head. That part is indisputable. Having a relationship with Sun, Moon, and Eclipse is appealing to you in no small amount. You just needed the time to realize that on your own and make sure that this attraction wasn’t only a passing fancy.

Judging by how every single one of your waking thoughts has been centered on them for countless hours, you’re pretty sure you have your answer.

In a rare burst of what’s either bravery or stupidity, you decide to throw caution to wind. Your fingers wiggle as they sneak over Moon’s arm that’s closest to you and then dip around his wrist. There is a flash of red as he briefly glances away from the snowy roads, but he has to snap his attention back to the traffic around him. A car honks not too far away.

Honey couldn’t be sweeter than the smile that curls up your face.

Buoyantly, like you haven’t spent hours agonizing over how to approach your feelings for him, you say in a singsong, airy tone, “I might.”

Moon chuffs. His dry amusement at your antics never fails in elevating your mood, though you couldn’t be happier as it is. You squeeze his wrist playfully, and his hand clenches around the steering wheel. Only a matter of time now.

The swish of the windshield wipers fills the quiet, broken only by the clicking of the turning signal as Moon takes a harrowing left. You’re honestly surprised he remembered to signal at all. His fingers drum atop the wheel while his processor tries to determine if this is a game worth playing. He knows as well as you just how risky diverting any of his fleeting attention from driving is, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t against having a fun time.

Your fingers skirt along the edge of his glove, cheekily dipping in just an inch, and Moon shakes his head.

“You’re betting your life, piccolina.”

You wrinkle your nose at the pet name.

“I’m not that small.”

Moon, contrary to his trepidation, lifts the hand you’ve been toying with off of the steering wheel just to give you a so-so gesture. You snatch the opportunity to claim your prize, but you get the impression that Moon purposely lets you take his hand. His glove creaks as leather intertwines with your own fingers, lacing together and squeezing.

You beam proudly at your catch, and Moon rubs his thumb across your knuckles. He thankfully doesn’t look away from the streets, so you take full advantage of smiling at him and enjoying the moment with your friend. Moon’s presence always embodies a sort of calm that lulls you. He’s someone you can sit with in quiet and not worry about filling the space with words. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve woken up from snoozing on his shoulder. Whenever that happens, you always apologize profusely, but for some reason, it just keeps repeating itself, and Moon thoroughly basks in it—both in getting you to relax that much and also being able to razz you relentlessly about it when you wake up.

You suppose it’s a small price to pay.

“Comfortable?” your companion’s voicebox thrums.

Yes. Very much so. Incredibly so, in fact. But you can’t say that because you don’t want to drop the teasing nature that Moon evokes. The kindness in the simple question wraps around you like a warm hug.

“I suppose,” you trail off with a shrug, and though Moon isn’t even peeking at you, he can certainly see the movement in his peripheral.

He flicks the signal again when he reaches his next turn. You don’t have the heart to tell him he’s signaling in the wrong direction though because at least he remembered to do it, and that’s what counts. As he slowly twists the wheel with only one hand, you hold your breath and hope some of the praying emojis Sun spammed in the group chat have a good effect. The tires skid a little in the slush of the road, but Moon miraculously doesn’t lose control, and he navigates onto the next street without further incident.

You breathe again.

“You suppose?” Moon drawls now that he’s not intensely focused on not crashing into a pedestrian or oncoming traffic. Or not as focused, you should say.

“Mhm.” You tap your free hand on your thigh and assess the current arrangement that begs to be malleable and crafted to your liking. An idea begins to form.

You glance at the time on the dash. The party started a half-hour ago, which means you and Moon are already late. It’s fifty-fifty on who’s to blame for that one, so you don’t really feel too bad. What’s a few more minutes? Granted, his brothers will probably begin a search party if you don’t show up soon, but you’ll take that gamble.

“So I was thinking,” you cautiously open with, and the words roll across your tongue as you draw them out.

Moon groans.

With a dour metaphorical tongue, he drones, “Here we go.”

He’s already clued in on what you’re doing, and you have to bite your own tongue to stop the laugh that wants to come out when he tightens his grip on your hand. Depending on his mood and how charitable he’s feeling, the lunar animatronic can be swayed by your charm into going along with some scheme or another as long as it’s legal. Often, he’s one-half of the voices of reason in keeping you in line while another brother backs him up (the third being more easily swayed by your wily ways, and you’re not going to name names, but it’s Sun). However, Moon is overlooking one important fact: He’s currently alone with you. You don’t need much more than that.

The seconds drag on as Moon waits for you to lay out your clearly devilish scheme befitting only the worst of criminals. When it becomes apparent that you won’t, he gives another synthetic groan that is entirely disproportionate to the situation at hand, and at the next red light, he comes to a full stop only a little past the white line. Then, he turns to you.

“What is it you want?” he gruffly demands, like you’re about to ask him to commit petty crimes with you again.

Honestly. You’d only asked him that once, and that was just because you’d wanted to see if the vigilante style would suit you in this life too. Moon had acted like you’d offered to start a mob instead, the very opposite of what you were going for, and you think that maybe playing detective has gotten a little too into his head because he’d threatened to turn you over to the cops he apparently knows so well if he caught you doing anything nefarious.

Maybe you should have approached Sun first about that. He seems more like the type to let you do some shady Robin Hood-esque business while covering for you.

But a little vigilantism isn’t on your plate tonight. Instead, you flutter your eyelashes at Moon, teeth peeking past your lips as you lose the fight in controlling your smile.

“I’d like a coffee please.”

A few more seconds of silence. His eyes don’t leave you for any of it, but you can practically see the mathematical formulas floating past him as he tries to parse for anything illegal in your request.

Slowly, like he’s defusing a bomb, he says, “I’m sure they’ll have that at the party.”

To that, you then amend, “Yes, but I’d like a specialty coffee.”

“…And this coffee would be special how?”

“Because you’ll stop at that really good café a few blocks from the hotel to get it for me?”

It comes out as a question, but your hopefulness is tinged well throughout. You’d clasp your hands in front of your chest if you weren’t already holding his.

Moon is sometimes difficult to get a read on, and even with no distractions around you, you can’t quite discern if he’s on your side this time. He searches your face like he’s studying some ancient script, committing lines to memory. His thumb still hasn’t stopped the soothing paths it follows across your hand.

Two quick presses to a car horn from behind jolt you and Moon. He resumes driving again, focusing back on the snowy road, and you reluctantly accept that you won’t get your way this time. That’s okay. Disappointing, but you can’t win them all. You’ll finagle things into your favor next—

“Tell me where to go,” comes the defeated exhale from your beloved companion.

You resist the wild urge to cheer and instead gleefully direct him to your new destination. It doesn’t take long to find it at all since the shop is directly along your current route. Incredibly, it’s still open even this evening—just what you were hoping for. Since the storm has begun to worsen, few people are out and about, which means rare street parking is open. Moon pulls into a space that is just a little ahead of the café, and you give his parallel parking the compliment that is due.

He’s actually really far from the curb in a way that would have not flown if he were taking his driver’s test, but there’s enough room for other cars to squeeze past his if need be. So you’re still proud of him. He gives you a sort of suspicious, sideways frown, but you can tell from the bashful hunch of his shoulders that he’s preening at the attention nonetheless.

Whoever approved his driver’s license is either an angel or an advocate for causing trouble.

You offer to go into the café alone, but he quickly shuts that down and tells you to give him your drink order instead. You reluctantly do, and as you’re rummaging in your coat pocket to give him money for the drink, he’s already out the door and telling you to stay put. The door then slams shut, and Moon hurries through whirling snow to the well-lit doors of the café.

Slumping in your heated seat with an exasperated sigh, you watch him with fondness budding in your chest. He left the car running so you wouldn’t be left in the cold—just another gesture that makes you feel odd inside. Like you’re restless and full of energy that you don’t know what to do with. You’re overflowing with affection for someone you hadn’t known until just months ago, and now, you consider him to be one of your best friends.

For some reason, your head is spinning with emotion.

In the cozy interior of the car, you watch through the snowflakes dotting the passenger window as Moon’s dark silhouette flutters about in the store. The edge of his thick overcoat sweeps around the back of his knees, and the hat he stole from set casts most of his head in shadow. You don’t think he ever intends to part with it. Maybe you should take a page from his book and nab some spare ribbon and bells when all is said and done. The character you play isn’t you, but you can’t help the connection you’ve developed with the vigilante over time. Parting from the show without taking a memento seems wrong. After all, it’s this role that led you to meeting some truly amazing people.

Moon wraps up with the order in little to no time and hustles back to the car as fast as his spindly legs will carry him. The winter wind whooshes inside the car when he opens the door and scurries inside. Just as quickly, the door shuts behind him, and he whistles from the cold shock.

“Might become a block of ice if it gets any chillier out there,” he hisses in a fizzle of static. “I can feel the snow getting in my joints.”

“Don’t worry, mon clair de lune,” you reassure, cranking up the heat to full blast for him. “I’ll be sure to warm you up before you become an icicle.”

“Believe that is my job,” Moon drawls, and he passes you a deliciously smelling to-go cup. “Here.”

He presses the hot cup of coffee into your waiting hands, and you greedily latch onto it while wholeheartedly extending your gratitude.

The aromatic sweetness hits your nostrils fully as you take a deep breath. Pure delight runs through your blood, and you hastily take a very long drag from the wonderful drink, swishing the steaming liquid around on your tongue before swallowing.

“Oh, I could kiss you right now,” you whisper into the lid of your coffee.

Thoroughly savoring the taste of your next sip, your eyelids flutter closed as the heat penetrates that frosty layer that had been persistently clinging fast. This is exactly what you needed. After another deep breath to relish in the richness, you glimpse over to find Moon’s pleased optics on you, soft and as warm as your drink. His smile is small, like he isn’t aware of it. But it changes before you can get a good look, and a familiar slyness overtakes all else.

“What’s stopping you?” he brazenly needles. He’s just playing around again, a harmless prod, but his innocuous question makes you pause like a deer in headlights.

Your hands are warmed by your to-go cup, the wind is whipping at a brisk pace outside the car, and your heart is abruptly thump, thump, thumping away in your chest at a breakneck speed that rivals the December gust.

Such a small, simple, harmless question makes something apparent to you then. There’s no one here but you and him, nothing else to demand your attention. Nothing to hold you back or make you doubt yourself or put you on the spot. It’s just you and the sweet lunar animatronic you hold very dear to your heart.

In this brief ounce of privacy between you and him, you feel a touch braver than usual.

“You know…” your voice mumbles, more to yourself than him, “I can’t really think of anything that is.”

The kiss—correction: two kisses—from Eclipse a few short weeks ago flashes in your mind. He hasn’t pushed once since giving you time to think about it, about how you feel about him. His brothers. A relationship with all three. You’ve been given time to consider fostering that with each of them if your heart yearns for your friends as much as you now know they yearn for you. It hadn’t quite clicked before the reveal that they wanted you. Since Eclipse’s confession, it’s never felt more real, and the way each of them act around you should have clued you in much sooner.

At least you know better now. There’s no writing off the lingering looks or touches or the words that sometimes carry a heavy tint to them. No, they all have meaning finally, and it’s felt like agony forcing yourself to slow down and think things through in the events leading up tonight.

The only one who’s pumping the breaks is you. Nothing is keeping you from just… letting go. No one is here to be a voice of reason as Moon sits beside you, closer than he’s been in weeks. Eclipse said he’d let his brothers speak for themselves about their feelings, but they’ve seemed to avoid the topic out of courtesy to you. No doubt their big brother told them about the moment he’d shared with you in that small alcove under a snowy night, much like tonight. Ball’s in your court now, and you have the chance to play.

You know what your heart wants. You’re sure of it.

So it’s a natural, easy choice for you to give in to the temptation whispering in your ear to stop resisting and just close the distance.

Moon doesn’t move an inch as you lower your drink in one hand and near, the only indication of him realizing what’s coming shown in the widening of his eyes.

With a small sweep of your fingers, you tip back your detective’s hat, hesitating only a moment to wait for any signs of discomfort from either you or him. Finding none but only the giddy anticipation coiling in your stomach and the inviting, subtle lean Moon makes in your direction, you slowly lid your gaze shut, tune out the pounding in your ears, and brush your lips against the cold metal of his cheek.

They demurely curl upward at the crackling gasp he emits. The sound has you wanting to stay, wanting to hear it again. You settle for trailing a ghost of another kiss just along that delicate swirl of metal. Before he can have a chance to react beyond that and before you can start second-guessing your actions, you pull away. Your heart won’t stop racing. It feels like your body is hardly contained to your seat at all and that you’ll glide away if you breathe too hard.

Moon’s dark pupils are blown incredibly large and round. His reaction is exactly what you were hoping for, and a small burst of pride wells behind your sternum. You did that. You made him react that way. You.

It’s a small tick in your confidence category, but even greater is the joy that grows wings and takes flight with you on its back. Moon gapes at you like you’re from the stars above, and you’ve never seen him stare at you like that before, but it’s already strengthening the heat in your cheeks.

You give him a moment to process and then delicately clear your throat.

“Shall we get going?” you ask your silent companion in an attempt to play coy. Internally, you’re a fumbling mess of a human who’s running around in circles like a dog chasing its tail. The coffee cup trembles in your hand.

Even with your little prodding, he doesn’t seem to quite come out of whatever spell you’ve accidentally tossed him under. Well. Not entirely on accident. You very much kissed him on purpose.

Moon releases a thin hiss of air, like his cooling components are working overtime. He blinks once. Twice.

“What was that for?” he finally utters with tangible awe, but it’s little more than a breath. His voice could melt you into a puddle right in your seat.

You think back to what Eclipse said to you that night at the start of the month. A helpless shrug lifts your shoulders.

“Oh, you know. Just felt like getting a head start on the new year’s tradition.” Then, to make sure he’s on the same page as you, you add, “I take it Eclipse told you what happened a few weeks ago. About… testing the waters.”

Instead of scoffing, Moon softens almost imperceptibly. You’re starting to think he has no intentions of ever looking away. He lifts a hand towards you but then hesitates. Searches you for something you aren’t sure of. You lean your head to the side in invitation, and his hand cups your face much like Eclipse’s had.

In a sotto voce tone that crawls into your bones and makes its home there, he murmurs, “Clip asked us to give you time. That you wanted to think about it first. That’s why I—why we haven’t said anything. But I also don’t want you to feel like I’m not interested. Because I am. Interested, that is. Very much. In a way that’s probably more eloquent than I am when I’m around you.”

He gives an adorable little giggle that betrays his nervousness, and you titter alongside him.

Unable to not rib him just a little, you say, “Why, Detective Moon, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were feeling shy.”

“Funny. Don’t get used to it,” he warns, but he’s smiling as he does.

It feels good to know that you’re not the only one off your game at this. Makes it more lighthearted. No perfect lines or filtered dialogue like in front of the camera. The mask is off, and the sight you’re seeing beneath it is even more precious to you.

Moon takes a moment to process his next words, and you can tell by the thin whine stemming from his chassis that he’s heavily considering them. You stay quiet as you wait, and when his brow furrows, you know he’s settled whatever internal debate he was warring with.

The chilled hand is slowly warming at your cheek. The emotion on his face runs parallel to what’s been burning in your heart all this time.

“Would you mind if I got a head start too?” he tentatively asks.

There’s no ignoring the knot in your throat. Your stomach is flooded with antsy excitement, and you try to tuck away an errant strand of hair that keeps falling out of place. You feel like you’re shaking from nerves and eagerness. Imagining this exact moment playing out in your head for the past few weeks is very different from suddenly living it now.

You do your best to hide the thrilled tremor in your voice.

“I don’t see why not.”

The words probably don’t come across as confident or unaffected as you’d like, but then Moon is swiping away that loose bit of hair just as easily as he does so your thoughts. You feel him tuck it behind your ear, his fingers brushing back against your cheek a second time before sneaking around to the back of your scalp.

No resistance is offered when he pulls you close. You let your eyelids fall shut again just in time to shiver at the effervescent tap of his permanent grin to the very small corner of your lips, once again surprising you with the location of the kiss, though you won’t complain one bit about that. He doesn’t keep you for very long, but it’s enough that you have to let out a ragged breath that’s been building up ever since he teased you. His kiss leaves you spinning. That’s two for two that you’ve been caught off guard by a romantic display of affection. Well-played.

He shifts back some so that you can make eye contact—a simple task that you are now failing miserably at with impeccable odds.

You feel faint from the swell of emotion that this animatronic manages to pull to the surface with just a single kiss.

A flighty exhale precedes your shaky voice.

“Would it be cliché if I said ‘wow’ after that?”

Moon’s answering smile shines with elation. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the often stoic animatronic so profusely happy.

But before you can dwell on that, something else then catches your notice from his proximity. You scoot back in a little closer, safely preserving in your memory the tiny noise of shock Moon makes so that you can reflect on it later.

You take a deep breath in, and your curiosity momentarily beats out your fidgety nerves.

“Hang on. Is that… cologne?” you mutter, inhaling another whiff to confirm before leaning back, stunned at your findings. “Did you put on cologne tonight?”

Moon shifts again. Seems you’re not the only one feeling fidgety.

“Why do you ask?” he hedges cautiously, black pupils shifting, and you almost think he sounds defensive until his hand leaves your cheek. His fingers disappear into the insides of his coat, rummaging for something out of your view until he then pulls out—to your complete and incredulous astonishment—a can of WD-40.

He gives it a tiny shake.

“Did you want to use some too?”

In all your daydreams, there were a few things you had imagined happening right after you kissed Moon. Some gentle words. A hug, maybe. In the more risqué scenarios, an inability to breathe as he kissed you senseless again and again. All of those had seemed like viable options on the table of your secret hypotheses.

This, though. This was definitely not one of them, and you are baffled. You refuse to believe he just happened to have that can on him out of complete coincidence. It’s purely inconceivable.

You have to tell him as much.

“You have not been carrying that around all day just for the sake of making that joke.”

Moon’s faceplate rotates several degrees. He squints at you suspiciously. Contemplates the deep meaning of the universe, judging by how long he stays silent. Then, he casually hits you with a bombshell.

“You seem like you could use it.”

Your jaw scrapes the floor.

“Excuse me?! Are you implying that I smell?”

“…‘Implying’ is a rather interesting word choice.”

“Moon!”

Any reservations you might have had are banished by the lurching urge to snatch his beloved little hat from his bald little head and chuck it outside. His self-satisifed aura tells you he knows exactly what you’re thinking.

Before you can think of some wisecrack to put the cretin back in his place, Moon smoothly clarifies, “You smell nice. You always do, actually. It’s light and sweet. Pleasant.” He gently pokes the can’s nozzle against your shoulder. “Just like you.”

You’re left speechless for the second time in as many seconds. Your brain is struggling to keep up with the rapid-fire changes, so you sit there useless for a few moments while trying to think of what to say.

It’s a little unexpected, is all.

Moon appears to be none the worse for wear. He enjoys your surprise for a bit more and then continues on.

“That’s why I put on something nice-smelling too. Or at least what seems to be popular among you humans. Just wanted to put in a little extra effort. For you. Not the WD-40 though, sorry. That’s only for emergencies.”

While still very unexpected, the reasoning is enough to somewhat loosen your twisted tongue.

“Emergencies,” you parrot, deadpan.

Moon nods. He surreptitiously sets the can behind you on the floor of the backseat.

After another extended beat, a snort escapes you, your face falls into your hand, and your nostrils flare with your amused exhale. Moon’s fans whir a little louder at the sound, and you sigh again before peeking at him through your fingers.

“You’re a dork, you know that? A buffoon.”

The gremlin is practically vibrating in his seat.

“One might even say I’m a jester.” He waggles his brows. “A sleuth jester.”

“Yeah, one might not.”

Your hand falls from your head. You point an accusatory finger at him.

“Clown behavior. That was terrible and unfunny.”

“Wanna see a magic trick?” he asks with glee.

“No,” you bark out around a loud laugh, and he snickers happily.

You sit together in the warm comfort of the car, and the sense of longing draws you into a contemplative quiet while you watch him, and he does much the same. Your smile is going to wear out from all this use it’s been getting, but you don’t mind at all how effortlessly Moon summons it. He has to do very little to tug that giddiness to the surface. A fact that you’ve taken special notice of more so lately.

His attentiveness is apparent even in his actions, and you want to address that.

“For the record,” you say, more muted than earlier so that Moon hears the subdued seriousness in your voice, “I just want you to know that while you putting in extra effort is really sweet and appreciated, it’s also not strictly necessary. I don’t expect you to go out of your way for me. Getting to spend time with you is more than enough already. You don’t need to change anything about yourself to please me.”

The ruby glow dims a little, and Moon’s hands fiddle with the edge of his coat. You have the sneaking suspicion that if he could blush, his cheeks would be matching his optics right about now.

“I know,” he says back, equally gentle. “Actually, that is part of what endeared you to me. The fact that you don’t care that I’m—that any of us are animatronics and have different functions or needs or even lack of needs that humans do have. But I also know that it’s a custom to put in a little extra effort for someone you care about… someone you might be considering building a relationship with.”

His admission presses down like a leaden weight on your tongue.

“Moon…”

You’re not sure what to follow that with. You wish you could express everything that his heartfelt words are doing to you and how they threaten to stop your heart in its tracks if it keeps missing a beat.

What you do manage to say, gingerly, is much smaller in comparison than everything you want to express, but it’s a start.

“Thank you for being patient with me.” You swallow the nervous lump in your throat and try to focus past that. Moon waits for you to continue with a silent understanding in his demeanor that speaks volumes. A bit meekly, you say, “I doubt it’s much of a secret anymore how I feel about pursuing that with you, Sun, and Eclipse, huh?”

His hands stop playing with his coat. The crescent splitting the dark sapphire blue and lustrous silver of his faceplate curves an elegant sweep along the metal craftsmanship, and you are reminded not for the first time that Moon is beautiful. In your mind’s eye, you trace an imaginary line around the smooth curls and hidden divots, every slight highlight and blemish and silver scratch. With your imagination taking flight, you are met with a fantasy not unlike the one you’d had of Sun weeks ago. In this one, you sit in Moon’s lap, cradling the lower half of his faceplate in your hands, and your lips find those intricacies to lay a kiss on, to bestow your affection. His own hands paint a delicate dance that rides up the back of your shirt while he flirts with the edges of it.

It’s just as intimate and gripping, and it leaves you shuddering in your seat. As you blink, and the scene dissipates.

You want that. You want it a lot. There’s not a shadow of a doubt in you about that. No shying from the truth now.

All you have to do is take the next step forward into the others’ waiting arms.

Moon doesn’t reply, which you think you appreciate more than a verbal confirmation. He leans away from you back into his seat much to your disappointment and blinks slowly, a languid relaxation to his serene expression. As far as he’s concerned, there’s seemingly no one else in the world now but you and him.

You're tempted. You doubt he’d say no to letting you test the waters with more than just the tips of your toes. But the snow is falling, and you have a party to get to, and you can’t remain frozen forever in this moment. It’s hard to remember your other obligations, but you manage to peel your gaze away.

“We should—” you swallow around your voice crack and clear your throat. “We should probably get going. To the party and all that.”

A rumbling respiration stems from Moon’s metal chassis. The lunar brother reluctantly shakes off his daze, muttering some indiscernible words to himself, and he sets the car back into motion down the street. The hotel isn’t far now, just up ahead and poking through the cloud of dark gray and white whirling outside. Even still, it surprises you when there’s a subtle tug on your wrist.

Moon’s fingers curl around you, slipping one hand free of your cup so that he can grasp it. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, but you don’t need to. His fierce focus on the wet and slushy roads tells you all.

When he pulls up to the hotel’s overhang, the valet draws up to his side to discuss parking. You tune them out in favor of enjoying the two points of warmth in your hands, one around your coffee and the other ensnared in leather. All too soon, Moon lets go and gets out to let the valet take over.

You gather your things and tighten your coat around your waist. In that very short time frame, your door is then swung open, and Moon gives a debonair dip to hold out a hand to you, his other arm behind his back.

“I believe I offered to escort you in,” he remarks with a tinge of coyness. It seems he’s getting a little of that spark back after your moment together.

Your surprised sound at the unexpected gesture threatens to oust you, but you do your best to keep your cool.

“Such a gentleman,” you croon.

His low brush of laughter makes the cold feel not as strong on your cheeks as he helps you out of the car, the heels of your shoes wobbling on the cobblestone until you find your balance. His eyes reflect the twinkling golden ambience of the city lights around you, warm and delighted. They brighten even more when he offers you his arm and you take it happily, shivering from the cold that cuts through the tailored fabric of your suit pants.

Together, you and Moon enter the skyscraper hotel, and after showing your identification to the personnel and each being given some sort of pass, you are fast directed to the second floor where the holiday party is being held. In the elevator, you can’t seem to bring yourself to let go of Moon’s arm. He doesn’t seem too keen on letting you go either. His other gloved hand rests smoothly atop your own as if to keep you there.

As soon as the elevator doors slide open, a symphony of music and conversation greets you. The noise would normally grate against your ears, but with the calm presence of your friend guiding you into the chaos, your shoulders stay relaxed and your steps sure. Several coworkers take notice of your entrance and nod or raise their glasses in celebratory welcome. You wave to your colleagues, but you search for someone else. Technically two someones, but in this crowd, you know you won’t have to look long.

Moon steers you towards the left of the floor where open double doors lead into the main hub of activity. There’s another check-in desk there, but you and Moon only have to flash your name badges to be waved on in. The room echoes the same noise and bustling activity just outside it, with more of the film and production crew milling about and enjoying themselves. Lifting your head, you get a waft of what can only be delicious food, and you absentmindedly let out a pitiful whine as your stomach grumbles.

Soft snickering from above pulls your attention, and you glare at Moon. His merriment shines wide in his teeth.

“Do we need to take a quick detour?” he asks, reading you in a heartbeat.

You release a pained sigh.

“No, I can wait. Let’s find your brothers first.”

“Already done.” Moon points to a table off in the corner, and sure enough, twin sets of rays, one yellow and the other blue and purple, peek out from the chairs. Both are facing away from you since they’re sitting beside each other, so they haven’t noticed your arrival yet, something your feet seem keen on remedying as they hasten over to your friends. You end up dragging Moon along for the ride, but he’s quick to catch himself and match your speed.

Sun and Eclipse appear in deep conversation, the former chattering enthusiastically while the latter answers more slowly, slouched against the wall next to his chair and a hand shadowing his optics. You can’t help but admire how the sharp suits and ties they wear fit them both very attractively, though Sun’s already discarded his coat on the back of his chair. Eclipse catches sight of you and Moon first, and he gives a little wave that makes you accidentally clench Moon’s hand and causes Sun to spin to see you as well just as you reach them.

“It’s about time you got here!” he exclaims. “We were just about to start dinner without you.”

You tut in skeptical disbelief, saying, “A likely story. You can’t even eat, which… makes me wonder. Why are you holding a glass?”

Sun looks at the flute in his hand then back at you.

“What, this? It’s champagne. One of the waitstaff gave it to me, so now I’m trying to blend in. Is it working?”

From over your shoulder, Moon says, “Considering that you start to act tipsy whenever a certain special someone is around, I’d say you fit right in.”

You dutifully ignore Sun’s indignant squeak because your attention is quickly arrested elsewhere. In one chivalrous motion, Moon slips away from your side to pull out a chair for you. Your head ducks as the temperature of the room inches up a couple of degrees, and it only grows stronger when he helps you shed your heavy coat to drape it over the back of the chair. You murmur your thanks and slide into a seat across from Eclipse, Moon pushing your chair back in. He answers with a hum of acknowledgement and takes the one next to you.

Clearing your throat, you attempt to focus on what he’d just said.

“So who’s the special someone?”

Eclipse snorts loudly, and you tilt your head at him, confused. Sun rubs a hand over his optics with a groan. You can hear his internal fans kick on from over here.

The brother sitting next to you is the only one to take pity on you, but his amusement could be classified as tangible.

“I was referring to you, sweetness.”

“Oh.” Your mouth might be hanging a little open, but you can’t be blamed for it. That wasn’t the answer you were expecting. Actually, there are a lot of things happening tonight that you weren’t expecting, and you have a sneaking suspicion they’d be obvious to literally anyone else. “I hadn’t, ah, noticed.”

“Really?” Moon’s voice is dry, intoning more of a statement than a question.

“Don’t be rude,” Sun chastises Moon, but you think that might be because he’s just still embarrassed from his brother’s remark. “They haven’t eaten yet. You can’t be mean to someone with an empty stomach. It’s bad manners.”

Eclipse squints at him.

“How is that considered bad manners, but not the whole being mean part in general?”

“Because I don’t want to exempt myself from being allowed to get on the nerves of my big brother.” Sun turns back to Moon. “Stop kicking me under the table.”

“Move your damn big feet then,” Moon fires back, slumping deliberately in his seat.

The table shudders with a jarring bang, and you carefully tuck your legs close to your chair to avoid catching any crossfire of the sudden battle happening under the white tablecloth. You share a knowing look with Eclipse, and the dazed tiredness in his gaze makes you smile.

He sighs.

“Did you have a safe drive here?”

Was Moon a safe driver for once, is what he’s really asking. You rest your chin in your hand and lean forward.

“It was a nice, smooth ride,” you muse, fingers curling around your coffee cup. “My chauffeur knew some tricks that made the trip seem to go by so much faster. Feels like we got here in no time at all.”

Eclipse sighs and briefly closes his eyes as if calling upon divine intervention. You think if he had an actual nose, he’d be pinching the bridge of it.

“How many red lights did he run?”

“None,” Moon says, rejoining the conversation as if he and Sun weren’t just engaged in a slapdash battle of footsie. “I take care of my passengers and ensure their safety at all costs.”

“Past experience and numerous police tickets say otherwise,” Eclipse returns wryly.

Moon’s grin sharpens.

“Performance is based on tips.”

Pupils as black as midnight peer out once more, flicking between you and Moon in confusion before settling on you.

“And did you… tip him?”

You give Eclipse a conspiratorial wink.

“I held his hand while he drove us here.”

“Mercy.” Sun recoils, absolutely appalled. “You risked him driving with only one hand on the wheel, and in this weather? Are you perhaps feeling unwell?”

“If you try to suggest putting your fingers in my mouth again, we’re gonna have a problem, and that’s a threat.” You point at Sun for emphasis, and he pretends you’re holding him at gunpoint, his hands flying up in a pacifying manner. One of your eyes squeezes shut, and you mime shooting, which makes him slump back dramatically in his seat like you got him square in the chest. You shake your head, lips twitching upward while Sun straightens again. “I’m not sick, but I am hungry. Actually, I think I’m gonna go grab some food before it’s all gone.”

“Allow me,” Eclipse says, and it’s not a question. He rises to his feet.

You consider getting up anyways just for the principle of the matter, but a single finger pointing at you to sit back down is enough to have you settling in your chair with a fake pout.

While buttoning his suit coat with one hand, he asks, “Anything you’re particularly in the mood for?”

You consider for a moment.

“Mm, no, I trust your judgment. You probably know my tastebuds better than I do at this point.”

An emotion passes across Eclipse’s dark faceplate, something that makes your skin prickle at the sudden knifelike quality to it. Instead of voicing whatever he’s thinking, he just spins his rays and returns your wink from earlier.

“I’ll be back with a plate.”

He saunters away, politely dodging groups of people and conversations as he makes his way towards the mouthwatering smell of food. You track him for a little while as you nurse your coffee until you’re brought back to the present at your table. Sun and Moon are being unusually quiet, and both are staring at you.

“What?” you say after a pause.

Sun’s smile normally warms you to the soul, but there are times when it sends you into fight or flight mode, just like Eclipse’s. In fact, all three of the brothers share that uncanny ability, and it’s no less disarming whenever it’s aimed at you. The meaning behind the near-predatory flash of teeth can operate anywhere on the scale of danger, and depending on Sun’s mood, it can quickly tip over into territory you want to avoid.

His rays blur in one direction then the other.

“You have a way with words, precious.”

“…Thanks. I think.”

You don’t know if that was meant to be a compliment, but you’ll take it as one anyways.

Sun doesn’t say either way, but the deep blue of his pupils are cutting. It’s offset by the rather distracting way he’s swirling his champagne around in the flute like it’s a glass of wine. You’re not exactly sure why he’s doing that, but you are impressed at how not a single drop of liquid spills over the top despite being full.

A couple of minutes tick by as you simply relax and chat with the brothers while sipping your drink. It’s not long until restlessness begins digging in, however, and you give a cursory glance around the room and tap your fingers on the table.

“So what’re your plans after this?”

The question is barely out in the open before Moon answers with a sarcastic, “Going home and getting absolutely plastered.”

Apathy ricochets off you and Sun.

“They should make a park for people like you.” Sun tips his glass at his brother. “An unamusement park.”

“Hilarious.”

“No, it’d be the opposite of that.”

“That’s just Wall Street, Sun,” you say around a yawn, and Sun somehow makes a noise like he’s clicking a tongue he doesn’t have. You don’t question it.

Moon hmphs and crosses his arms like a child. You decide it’s best not to tell him that it only endears him to you even more.

“You do have a bit of a dry personality when it comes to acting,” you say, reaching up to scratch your chin in contemplation. When Moon’s faceplate swivels at you, utterly dumbfounded, you quickly add, “Not that that’s a bad thing! It’s just different from what is more common nowadays. That’s probably why you and Sun complement each other so well too. In fact, I think you would have been great in a show like Dragnet, Detective Moon.”

“No, don’t get him started—” Sun begins in a petulant whine, but it’s too late.

Moon’s red optics widen a fraction, and he suddenly gets a gleam in them, like he just got hit with inspiration. His metal fingers tug the brim of his hat so low that only the light of crimson shines from the shadow. Then his hands make quick work of loosening the knot of his tie just enough that it sits slightly askew. He squints across the table at the wall, staring at nothing with such intensity that it’s like he’s scrutinizing something a great distance away. His shoulders pull back, while he mimes takes a heavy drag of a smoking cigar.

Finally, to tie the charade together into a neat bow, he says in a very husky, deadpan voice that cracks with static, “Just the facts, ma’am.”

Sun’s eyes roll so hard, they could fall out of his head. You grin wide. In your peripheral, you think you see dark rays approaching your table.

“It’s almost like he does it effortlessly,” you joke playfully.

“That’s because there is no effort put into it,” Sun says, exasperated. “He’s not acting. Monotone is his personality.”

A sneer breaks Moon’s act, and he spins his head around in a complete circle to taunt his brother. Defying all physics, his hat remains squarely on all the while.

“Sun’s jealous because he knows if this were a different show, he’d be relegated to sidekick status.”

As Moon’s speaking, Eclipse returns, full plate in hand. He sets it down in front of you, to which you thank him, picking up the silverware next to you. His rays give a little wiggle in return, and he melts back into his seat with a grunt, propping his elbow back on the table and resting his head on his hand.

“I think being a main character has gotten to your head,” Sun returns snippily. There’s an exaggeration to his voice and haughty head tilt that tells you he’s just as much bantering along with Moon. The swirling of his drink gets more aggressive. “We’ll see how well that works out for you. Maybe this will be the start of my villain arc, and I’ll secretly become the big bad of the story with a mafia to my name.”

“Ugh, please do,” Eclipse groans from where he lounges, dragging his hand down his faceplate. “I’m tired of having to be mean.”

That snags your attention. You shuffle a bite of what might be teriyaki chicken onto your tongue and chew thoughtfully.

Holding your hand in front of your mouth as you munch so that you don’t endure another lecture from Sun, you say, a bit muffled, “I really should find the time to sit in on one of your classes soon. I wanna hear all of your secrets to playing the big bad villain.”

Eclipse’s chuckle flows on a deep wave that buzzes in his chest and warms yours, making your own cheeks hurt, both from the large bite of food you’re chewing and from how you beam at fostering such a sound. His low-lidded black eyes slide over to you, peering out from under his hand.

“That’s easy,” he says. “Anytime I have to act angry, I just think about these two idiots and the shit they make me put up with.”

Sun’s visage turns affronted.

“Language! And what exactly do you mean by that anyways?”

“He certainly couldn’t be referring to all the times we’ve pranked him,” Moon retorts, pretending to examine his nonexistent nails.

You nod sagely in agreement.

“Or the times you’ve tried to sabotage his shoots by distracting him.”

“Or how often we customize his wardrobe for fun.”

“And there was also that time you hid his car keys in a jello mold.”

Moon brightens at that one like you’ve made him recall a fond memory.

Sun leans back in his seat and bends an arm over the back of it. His frown slants sideways.

“Well, when you say it like that, it makes us sound bad.”

You twirl your fork on your plate and share a look with the animatronic from across the table.

“I wonder why.”

Your group laughs then along with one supremely ragged sigh from Eclipse, stirring up a decent amount of noise in the already loud room. The conversation continues much the same, with the three brothers taking cracks at each other while you watch the show and scarf down your dinner. It’s by the time that your plate is scraped clean and you’re sipping on the cold leftovers of the coffee Moon got you that a new presence is drawn in by the chatter in your small corner. You don’t immediately notice them until they speak up.

“Why am I not surprised to see you four all cozying up together in your own little area?” a calm voice addresses your table.

You glance up and find a much too complacent smirk staring you down.

Sun takes a gander at your table’s new visitor and acquires an awfully mischievous glint.

“Uh oh. Security breach! Someone better let staff know that the Loch Ness Monster has gotten out of containment again.”

Like clockwork, Vanessa’s eyes narrow, and she places her hands on her hips, lips pursing.

“That nickname hasn’t been funny in all the ten other times you’ve used it.”

“Au contraire, little fish. It ages like a fine wine.”

Rolling her eyes at the lighthearted taunt from the jesting animatronic, she turns back to you.

“So when’s the wedding?” she presses, apparently deciding to return fire with fire.

A scoff trickles out, and you consider diving into a lengthy, not at all defensive rant about how the rumors your coworkers love circulating are just that: rumors. Just because you’ve decided you want to be with the celestial animatronics doesn’t mean you’ve all had a conversation about making that public yet, if ever.

But then Moon decides that now is apparently the best time to slide his arm behind you and tuck it over your shoulders, and you’re left choking down your own rebuttal because he just threw it in the mud in one shove.

Vanessa doesn’t smile often. She looks like a damn cat that caught a canary now.

On reflex, as if you can salvage your dying dignity, you say, “We’re not dating, Ness.”

Technically not yet since you still need to have a chat with Sun privately and then discuss with all three of them to make sure you’re on the same page. But you don’t need to clarify that.

“Yeah, Nessie,” Moon adds, dutifully ignoring Vanessa’s immediate grimace at her other equally despised nickname. Really, though, he needs to stop talking all at once. “Can’t you see we’re all just hanging out like a couple of buddy ol’ pals?”

“Not helping, Moon,” you half-heartedly lament, trying to formulate a protest, but the blonde-haired woman has already taken the bait.

She lifts a brow.

“If this is how you treat your ‘friends,’” she says, actually pausing to make the air quotes, “then I’m glad we never became more than associates.”

“Aw, there’s no need to be so pessimistic,” Sun drawls with a heavy inflection, sweet like molasses. He reclines in his chair, crossing his legs. “Just because we never had a spark between us doesn’t mean there aren't still plenty of fish in the sea. Or lake, I should say. The show’s not over yet.”

“It’s about to end prematurely if you keep talking like that,” Vanessa shoots back without dropping the flatness in her tone one iota.

Sun’s smirk is all dangerous edges, and his rays twirl flirtatiously.

The display and banter is nothing out of the ordinary between those three. Though she may deny they’re friends, Vanessa has always gotten along well with all of the brothers, which is probably another reason you’ve also gotten along well with her. She’s been in the acting business longer than you have, and instead of trying to show you how things are done, in the beginning, she watched and noted your own technique. Only after you asked her for her advice did she offer it. She’s brought a professionalism to the show that is greatly needed, yet she still keeps an open mind to how everyone else does their own work.

For that, she’s earned a lot of respect from you. It took only a little nudging to get her to warm up to your friend group. The feigned disinterest is now just part of the usual routine, and you know for a fact that no one except Moon and Sun have gotten her to laugh aloud.

You owe a lot to the show you’ve all worked on together for the friendships alone that you’ve gotten through it.

“Have you been enjoying the party?” You decide to reroute the conversation before an all out war can break out in the form of snappy comebacks.

Vanessa groans.

“I could be relaxing in bed with a hot cup of tea. In fact, I should be relaxing in bed with a hot cup of tea. But for some godforsaken reason, I made the poor choice to come here instead.”

“Because you like us,” Moon singsongs, circling a finger along the white tablecloth.

Vanessa deigns to ignore that. Everyone knows he’s right, but it’ll be a cold day in hell before she ever agrees with him.

She addresses you instead.

“I see they’ve been practicing their terrible pick-up lines. I’m sorry you had to be the unfortunate one and settle for scraping the bottom of the barrel, unlike the rest of us.”

“Wow,” Sun huffs, dry as sandpaper.

“Deserved,” Eclipse chips in, just as dry but no less entertained at the spectacle unfolding.

“Like I said,” you say, not concealing your amusement at Vanessa’s persistence, “we’re not an item yet, so stop trying to set us up.”

“Yeah, I really don’t think you need my help with that,” she returns far too smoothly.

Your jaw goes slack, but Vanessa steamrolls right over your scandalized shock as usual.

“Anyways, I came over to fetch you for a second if you can spare one from your boyfriends. Freddy is asking for you.”

“Oh!” At that, you glance around in search of the bear animatronic, purposefully ignoring that last small dig.

With his big, hulking frame, it doesn’t take long to spot Freddy. He’s chatting with a few others in a semi-circle. As expected, you catch the slightest glimpse of Gregory next to him, though the poor kid seems miserable in his suit and tie. You can more than relate and have to stifle a small chuckle at his pout.

You turn back to your table and ease out of your chair onto stiff heels and creaking joints. Oof, that’s definitely the sound of your knees going snap, crackle, and pop.

“I’ll be right back. Save my seat?”

Moon blinks at it. Then back at you.

“Why? Is it dying?”

Before you can give back a snarky reply, Sun tacks on with faux concern, “Hey, is your fridge running?”

You share a wordless, pointed look with Vanessa and decide it’s best to not indulge them before they can get on a roll because once they start egging each other on, there’s no stop in sight.

Eclipse nods at you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep them in line while you’re gone.”

The twin snide leers in response tell you otherwise, but you’ll let him deal with that. His problem now. As you turn, you get a glimpse of Moon hunkering in close to his brothers with an excited sharpness in his movement.

Vanessa doesn’t have to say a word while you walk beside her. You just take her exasperation in stride because you know you don’t have a good rebuttal ready. She ends up sticking with you all the way to Freddy’s group, giving you the tiny impression that she’s been requested to “chaperone” you from one side of the room to the next.

As you’re weaving around the many groups of friendly faces and cheery waves, greeting them back with as much enthusiasm, you catch sight of Vanessa’s tie and nearly do a double-take. On a simple black background is a tiny print of many rabbits, with a myriad of bow ties, hats, and ribbons. It’s so fitting, you can’t not say something.

“I like the tie,” you snicker.

She follows where you gesture with a hand. It could just be the light in the room, but you swear you see a hint of mirth from her at you noticing.

“I thought it would be funny,” she says in an unfazed tone that makes your breath hitch around another sharp snort.

A lot of your coworkers find Vanessa to be standoffish. They don’t know what they’re missing because at her heart, she is one of the funniest people you’ve come to know. It just took a little to get her to warm up to you, and now, you consider her a great friend. On top of that, she’s incredibly talented to boot. You’re beyond glad that she was cast for her role in the show. That final showdown between you and her still gives you shivers even with all of it being an act.

“It is pretty fitting,” you agree, trying your best to don your best blank façade and failing. “Since it’s the year of the rabbit, after all.”

“Ugh. Now I know you’ve been hanging out exclusively with those three idiots. And what’s worse is I’ve heard that joke at least a hundred times tonight.”

“A hundred and one now, and the night’s still young.” You elbow her tauntingly, and she shies away with a scowl.

Vanessa appears prepared to tell you exactly what she thinks of your terrible jokes, but before she can, your name is called out in a sonorous clap.

You find Freddy eagerly waving you forward, and without a second thought, you’re by his side and being swept into a ferocious hug.

“It’s so good to see you outside of work for a change! I never thought those rascals would let you out of their sights for the holidays.”

A terrible groan threatens to break your throat.

“Not you too, Freddy,” you bemoan.

“No worries, I’m just pulling your leg.” He lets you go and beams down at you, good mood infectious. “But all jokes aside, I am glad you decided to come out tonight. The party wouldn’t be the same without the star lead.”

You blow off his statements, a little frazzled and more than a little flustered.

“Oh, ease up on them, Frederick. You’ll make the poor thing blush,” joins yet another voice, deep yet muted.

William Afton’s figure is just as imposing even outside of the villainous character he portrays. You don’t know how you missed him in the small circle Freddy’s been chatting up, but his piercing observation of you has you straightening up. He isn’t someone you’ve had a chance to really get to know, but as a more senior actor in the group, he’s posed an intimidating factor in his wealth of experience alone. You’ve seen him in action; he’s incredible.

What’s even more of a delightful surprise is his present company—namely, the small child standing next to him, their hand in his and swinging the pair’s arms happily.

The child is none other than the actor that plays a much younger version of the vigilante, one whom you’ve found to be utterly adorable. They’ve easily won the hearts of the cast and crew, and judging by the way William holds their tiny hand so delicately, they’ve gotten him wrapped around their little finger too. And even if those two weren’t holding hands, you’d already know how close they’ve gotten in the time they’ve worked together because of all the little anecdotes that’ve been passed around the grapevine about them becoming an unlikely pair of friends. Their bond reminds you of a paternal relationship. William is the one who gave them the beloved nickname Ribbon, thanks to the bright spool of red they’ve taken to tying in their hair upon realizing it was also part of your costume. It’s a reminder that they look up to you, for whatever reason that makes you hyper aware of everything you say or do around them. You’re no role model, but you’ll do your best to be one for Ribbon if that’s what they need.

As for the nickname, you’re sure it was meant to be a silly, one-time thing. But then others caught wind of it, and now it’s just kind of stuck. The little child actor couldn’t be more thrilled at getting their own moniker and almost downright refuses to respond to anything else.

They catch you watching and give a jaunty wiggle of the fingers of their free hand—a wave you can’t help but return. The kid bounces on their toes, pleased.

“It’s about time you came over and said hello,” quips a sarcastic tone that you recognize in a heartbeat.

You peer around Freddy.

“Hey, kiddo. How’s tricks?”

Gregory pulls a sour grimace.

“Don’t call me that.”

“He doesn’t like being called a kid,” Ribbon helpfully explains. They light up impishly. “It’s a sore spot.”

“It’s not a—” Gregory stops and forces himself to simmer down, rolling his eyes. “I’m not that young.”

“And I’m sure they mean nothing by it,” Freddy smooths over, likely sensing the argument before it can begin. “But even still, there’s nothing wrong with being a child! Why, you have gotten to experience something that most other kids your age have only ever seen on TV. That’s something to be proud of.”

“My parents let me skip school,” Ribbon brags when Gregory just grumbles.

You click your tongue sharply at that.

“They’d better not be! Else I’m gonna have some very strong words with them, dumpling.”

That has the tot giggling, and William shakes his head.

“No need, I already checked. They’re not missing out on school. I actually had the chance to meet their parents sometime ago.” He pauses to subtly indicate to a couple who aren’t too far away, chatting with a few people you vaguely recognize. Vanessa is also talking with them, and you wonder when she snuck away from your side.

William continues, “They informed me that any education outside of school hours is being handled at home or with tutors. And in fact, this little one brought their math homework to the set last month and showed me just how quickly they’re learning.”

The two share a small glance. It’s easy to see the pride in William’s features.

Then Ribbon turns to you.

They cup a hand over their mouth and loudly whisper, “He didn’t know the answers to some of the questions, so I had to show him how.”

You share a conspiratorial gasp.

“No kidding? Then I guess it’s a good thing you’re here to help these grownups learn, huh?”

A toothy grin flashes, and they nod excitedly. It’s then you notice the giant red silk in their braid, tied like a bow. The ends curl and frame their face cutely. You think you might even hear the chime of a bell.

Guess they’re going all out on their outfit tonight. Seeing them mimic your vigilante costume even outside of work grants you a deep fulfillment that runs through your chest. You hope that wherever they end up afterwards, it’ll be overflowing with only good, kind people. And hopefully their parents will preserve their childhood as much as possible too.

Anyways,” you say, turning and regaining Gregory’s attention, “Sorry, bud. Freddy’s right that I didn’t mean anything by it, but I’ll make sure to not call you that from now on.”

Gregory shrugs, crosses his arms, then uncrosses them like he’s not sure how to react. More than likely, he just feels put on the spot.

He chews on a response for a bit before he goes with, “It’s fine if you do it, I guess. Just don’t make it a habit, or else I’ll start calling you old.”

You feign shocked betrayal.

“How dare you? I’ll have you know that I’m always at my prime.” But then, unable to resist playing along, you pretend to feebly sway on your feet and place a hand to your chest, while the other reaches behind and presses at your spine, and you hunch over. “Oh, but your words—they cut so deep! I can feel them, seeping into my poor mortal bones, cursing me with old age. Agh, my back! It’s breaking!”

Like you’d expected, Gregory can’t quite hide his amusement at your shenanigans, and though he gives a valiant effort, his smirk is strong across his face.

“You’re such a theater kid,” he mocks.

You straighten with a frown.

“Oh, that’s real rich coming from you, shorty. Them’s fightin’ words.”

The sardonic, gloating image of the other threatens to start a semi-hostile bickering match between you and him. Fortunately or unfortunately for Gregory, Freddy intervenes like the paternalistic figure he’s come to embody.

“Alright, that’s enough. No need to start verbally swinging. I swear, you’re like a couple of cats and dogs sniping at each other any chance you get.”

Very maturely, you jab an accusatory finger at Gregory and retort, “Don’t look at me. He started it.”

The bear animatronic gives you a heavily imploring look. Your aura of innocence doesn’t seem to be swaying him in the slightest. Pity.

“You’re just mad that I’m right,” the kid taunts.

“Gregory,” Freddy warns, rounding on him and sounding for all intents and purposes like a disappointed parent.

You puff up your cheeks, readying another witty comeback on your tongue, but Freddy must have some sort of sixth sense because he shoots you another damning look that halts the friendly fire in its tracks. A silent standoff occurs between you, him, and the spunky little brat who thinks he’s winning, judging by the proud uptilt of his chin and his haughtily lifted brow. Which, to be fair, he’s not wrong in believing that, but details.

“To completely change the subject,” Freddy says before you can research if it’s legal to throw hands with a kid in self-defense, “I called you over here because I wanted to tell you something while I have the chance. And to start with, I’m sure many others have said the same thing to you already, but I want you to know it’s been a pleasure getting to watch you work throughout filming.”

One of his hands settles on your shoulder and stills you entirely, though you certainly weren’t expecting that last remark either. He makes sure he has your full attention before he keeps talking.

“I think I can speak for everyone here when I say that you’ve brought a uniqueness to the show. There is something to be noted about the good nature you carry into every circumstance, and as such, I’m grateful our paths were able to cross because of it. You have heart, and that shines well in your role. I believe the success we’ve had would not have been so easily attainable without you as the vigilante.”

In just a few short sentences, Freddy manages to strike down your smile and hollow you out. You stare in dumbstruck fashion at the bear animatronic. The heartfelt honesty wasn’t something you were expecting or ready for, and it cuts through your defenses and threatens to crumple you like a napkin.

“Freddy,” you hesitantly start, growing uncomfortable, “that’s really sweet and all, but I’m not—”

He gently interrupts you by briefly holding up a hand. You fall quiet.

“Please, let me finish being sentimental and overbearing while I still have you here, and then I’ll let you get back to the party. Since we’ve begun working together, I haven’t quite had an opportunity to tell you this, but I think you are an extraordinary individual and a talented actor. More importantly, however, I know that some of our… shall we say chattier team members have been spreading rumors. You probably know exactly what I’m referring to, so I’ll refrain from going into any details in case there are other listening ears nearby.”

He pauses just long enough to seemingly collect his thoughts. The unexpected direction of this conversation has your heart immediately jolting in your chest and pounding erratically, fearful of what he might say after hearing all of the gossip. Despite the sudden urge to turn tail and run, you hold back the panic that looms just on the edges of your peripheral. It waits to descend, circling like a hawk, and you push it back with an obstinate force.

You will wait to hear him out first, though you pray that he hasn’t called you over to condemn your relationships with the celestial brothers.

Perhaps your stone-faced silence is a dead giveaway, or maybe the stiffness in your jaw is actually a trembling line that betrays your worry. Either way, Freddy takes a good, long look at you, and it’s then that his expression changes. Determination or certainty or something close straightens his shoulders and eases his trepidation away.

He continues in a much more private murmur, for your ears alone.

“My point is, in spite of those rumors, I can’t help but notice how increasingly happy you’ve become, even in this small timespan. You seem brighter than before. Lighter on your feet. I know I didn’t meet you prior to us working alongside each other, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I’m sounding presumptuous here because that truly isn’t my intent.” When his smile reappears, it’s like a ray of sunshine shining proudly upon you. His tone overflows with his benevolence as he finishes, softer still, “I just want to say that whatever that happiness is and whomever it might be with—if that is indeed the case—I hope it is something that works out for you. And I hope you pursue it if it does. Because like many others here, you deserve to have good things in your life too. So don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise, no matter what they may say or believe.”

A friendly or perhaps comforting squeeze grips your shoulder. The following pause is loud.

Having said his piece, Freddy waits patiently for you to respond or maybe just to mull over what he said. Or to do anything at all instead of just gape at him.

Something slips into your eye. Both of them, funnily enough. You wait a moment too long to blink the odd sensation away, and it starts to burn.

Freddy notices, because of course he does, and his brow furrows.

“I’m sorry. It seems I’ve made you upset by what I said.”

You wave off his concern.

“No, no, I’m fine, really,” you lie very convincingly. “Don’t worry, it’s fine. It’s okay. I mean, I’m just—”

You bite your tongue to stop the immediate urge to deflect. You don’t like to think of yourself as overly emotional. Your soul lies in your work, and that’s where your emotions shine. You also know that while Freddy’s praise is flattering, it’s far from true. There are so many talented, gifted people working on this production. Anything you do is but a speck in the grand scheme of things, and a great deal of other people deserve credit far more than you do.

Still, it’s a palpable relief to hear what he said and to know that you have someone supportive in your corner. It touches you deeply because while it’s one thing to be recognized for your work by someone like him, it is a whole new matter to hear an outsider’s approval of the relationships you’ve been brewing over restlessly. Freddy is a role model—an inspiration—to the team. In many ways, he’s become a sort of parental figure that many look up to, you included. Having your silly human heart’s desires be acknowledged and embraced by him means a lot to you more than any kind of praise. A whole lot.

So much so that it stabs right to the center of all the inner turmoil that’s been burgeoning inside you without an outlet, and your ears feel hot and your throat tight.

You attempt to just laugh it off, sounding a bit uneven and watery.

“Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting you to say that,” you say at last, and the easygoing tone you were shooting for kind of falls flat.

You’re exactly like he said: happier and lighter. Have been for weeks—months—now. But especially recently. Just took you a little longer than most to notice.

You’re certain though about what you want. You don’t feel like you need to test the waters anymore. Originally, you’d been alarmed at jumping into three relationships headfirst without any thought, but truth is, you were thinking of it long beforehand. You just refused to see it for what it was, the longing for something more than friendship. This isn’t your emotions getting confused from what you act out in front of a camera, like you’d originally feared.

The teasing and rumors are things you’ve gotten used to over time. But what Freddy said goes farther than that, and it’s beyond refreshing to hear someone else’s perspective confirm what your intuition has been shouting from the start.

As you wipe your eyes with a hand, you say only a little shakily, “Thank you. That means a lot, coming from you. I think I needed to hear that more than you realize.” You take a moment to collect yourself, swallowing hard and letting the immense relief settle your nerves.

You’re here. It’s okay. It will be more than okay, but at least you know that you have people in your corner who genuinely care. You weren’t exactly ready for the emotional rollercoaster you just rode, but you’re thankful nonetheless. It feels good to not be alone like you’d once thought. It feels incredible.

As the racing in your chest calms back down, the levelheadedness returns. Freddy is still waiting like a worried spectator, so you decide to reassure him in the best way you know how.

Your smile is small but facetious.

“You know, it’s a good thing you approached me about this. Here I was, all worried you’d turn me down, but I’m so glad you finally saw the light and decided to confess your undying love for me before the clock strikes midnight.”

For an animatronic, Freddy does a fantastic job of blanching.

“Oh! No, that’s not… Ah, I’m afraid there’s been a misunderstanding.”

He panics to the point his voicebox starts to stutter as he backtracks. William steps in to rescue him.

“They’re joking, Frederick. They know you’re not the one who’s madly fallen for them.” His eyes slide over to you. “Which those three have, by the way.”

You spread your arms in disbelief, neck burning.

“Geez, did everyone else figure out my love life before me or something?”

“Only a little.” The man smirks, something that is extremely hard not to react to when it’s so unlike him.

“What’s a love life?” Ribbon innocently pipes up.

Gregory replies, “Tch, don’t ask them because they clearly don’t know.”

Freddy pats the top of the boy’s head.

“None of that now. Be nice. They can work things out in their own time. There’s no rush.”

You don’t have the heart to tell Freddy that that is exactly what you’ve been worrying over. So you instead peer back over to your table, gnawing on your lip as you think.

There’s not a clear view of them, but you can see Sun’s rays spinning wide as he converses with his brothers and a few others who have swung by to chat, standing beside the table. You wonder what they’re all talking about and suffocate the desire to go back over there. Just because you want to be with them doesn’t mean you have to act like some lovesick puppy.

As you’re weighing the pros and cons of making up some very transparent excuse to slip away from your group and return to the boys, a discordant echo of feedback rings through the crowd, making everyone wince.

“Sorry!” a distant voice yells, and then there’s distinct tapping on a microphone. “Test, test, testing, is this thing on now? I guess it is after that little noise.”

Everyone turns to the source, and you see the executive producer on a raised platform with a mic, two large projector screens on the wall behind him. Once he’s got the mic in working order, he requests everyone to take their seats, and you try to hide your elation at being dismissed from social convention. You make sure to wish the others a farewell and happy new year in case you don’t get to see them again later that night, giving an especially grateful squeeze to Freddy’s arm, and then you hustle your way back to three shining faces.

In the end, Moon proves to have been a valiant defender of your chair after all, and you reclaim the spot next to him while the man who organized the event launches into a lengthy speech of thank yous and cheers to the future progress of the show.

The distraction allows you a private moment to reflect on what just transpired and ease back into a calmer state. However, when you wipe your eyes a final time to stop any meddlesome tears in their tracks, your actions do not go unnoticed like you’d hoped.

Moon turns to you and leans in close so that he can whisper.

“Are you alright?” His concern is a selfless gesture that touches you deeply, like he’s ready to jump at a moment’s notice for your sake.

Your eyes glisten a little more at the sweet thoughtfulness.

“I’m fine. Promise.” At his persisting worry, you gently clarify, “It’s nothing bad. I’m just… really, really happy.”

Your heart leaps with your words, confirming the veracity of them.

Surprise rounds off the lines of disquiet and inclines the edges of his mouth. Moon’s steady regard holds unmistakable compassion.

“Good, I’m glad. Still, let me know if you need anything, and I’ll take care of it.”

You’re not at your verbal best right now, so you nod, and he shifts back to the speaker. You think that’s that, but then one of his hands seeks out and rests on the top of your lap, palm up. An offering. The questioning flash of red is only just visible at this angle.

You try to not let your sentimentality show so plainly to the room from you beaming as you slip your hand into his. It feels like you’re shaking with relief and euphoria.

From there, it’s easier to focus on the speech. The speaker informs the party that they are welcome to stay till midnight to watch the fireworks that the city will be setting off across the harbor. The hotel is waterfront, meaning the room’s windows facing the harbor will provide an exceptional view of the night sky. After that, the hotel has requested that everyone vacate the event room no later than one in the morning if they don’t have a reservation to stay and to please abide by the quiet hours rule. The fact that your group is even being allowed to hang around that late makes you wonder just how much money was slipped under the table to cover that cost.

You critically eye the waitstaff still handing out glasses of alcohol. It will be a miracle if there isn’t a single incident resulting in someone getting kicked out, and you know you don’t want to be around when that happens.

After the speech, a video is played on the screens commemorating months’ worth of silly moments and fun memories filmed both during shoots and in the lulls between. You end up laughing along with the others at the antics and bloopers caught on video, and even one of Sun and Moon’s pranks makes it on the screen. It’s a heartwarming stroll down memory lane that is bittersweet and a reminder that the show is nearing its finale.

After the video ends, the executive producer steps down from his stage, once more thanking everyone for their hard work and encouraging them all to finish off the plentiful catering leftovers. The room explodes into applause and some whistles, and you join in with the ones sitting next to you. It’s been a hard journey with many late nights and abysmally early mornings, but you’re close to the end. You’ll miss the familiar people you’ve come to enjoy seeing every day and the kindness of the teams you got to work with. One thing is for certain: Your phone is positively bursting with contacts from many, many people you’ve met just through working on this show. You hope that your future job will connect you with some of them again face to face when all is said and done.

Mind abuzz with thoughts of where you’ll end up next, you whittle away the hours yet again with your favorite company. At one point, Sun hands off his flute of champagne to a passerby with superfluous reassurances that he’s done “absolutely nothing to it!” He doesn’t sound trustworthy at all, but when he gives you a universally austere wink, it becomes obvious he’s just pulling the other person’s leg.

At some point, someone pulls out an honest-to-God Clue board game from who knows where, and you end up on a three-person team with Moon and Sun—much to the chanting of your friends and coworkers—to solve the mystery and take down your competitors. Eclipse pairs with Gregory and an actor who played as one of his goons. Becker, you think his name is.

A mix of people from other departments, from the sound crew to the camera crew to the stunt performers and everyone in between, get involved too, whether it’s to team up or just spectate like this is the greatest new sport. In the end, the result is a truly raucous round that leads to your team’s victory. High fives and gloating abound, but that’s quickly stampeded when you, Moon, and Sun lose the next round. After that, you decide to let other people have a turn, and you mingle with those you haven’t had a chance to chat with in a long while. What makes it an even better experience is that throughout the socializing, you find yourself with a tail or two or three. They let you reach out first—a hand on their backs or elbows—which leads to them returning the favor so that you’re in constant contact with at least one. It doesn’t escape your notice that doing this means you’ll receive more raised eyebrows and probably stir up the pot of gossip.

But unlike before, that thought doesn’t really bother you as much.

You know why.

As the clock ticks closer to midnight, the party dwindles in size. Some depart to go celebrate the new year with family; others leave to follow the call of their beds. You catch one more quick interaction with Ribbon, and they give you a big hug that you return just as tightly. Their little arms threaten to bruise your bones, and it only makes your fondness for them soar. Their parents also bid you goodbye, sharing grateful waves at you, and you watch as they lead their kid to the hotel’s elevator, Ribbon squeezing both their hands and skipping between them.

Not an ounce of tiredness in that one. You wish you had their energy. The studio couldn’t have picked a better vigilante-in-the-making.

Feeling winded yourself, you return to your seat with a drawn-out groan. While you were away, Sun and Moon swapped places. Judging by the delighted tapping of Sun’s fingers on the table and Moon’s unhappy glower, it wasn’t a unanimous decision.

It’s a mere fifteen minutes to midnight now. And that’s when Eclipse returns to his seat and decides it’s high time to throw another curveball your way.

“I have a proposition for you,” he slyly says, which has you simultaneously uneasy and intrigued.

“Oh?”

“Yes, oh?” Sun parrots, with much more skepticism in his tone.

Eclipse grins wryly. In between one blink and the next, he snaps into view a solid black card between his middle and forefinger. The slender card has no meaning to you, at least not until he flicks it a certain way in the light. The embossed letters reflect the ambient glow just enough to be legible, and that’s when you gasp.

“You’re joking,” you breathe, and Eclipse chuckles.

“What? What am I missing?” Sun looks between you and Eclipse and then at the card, but Eclipse tucks it away just as fast.

You lean back in your seat, stunned.

“This hotel has to be booked solid all through the holiday,” you manage to say. “How on earth did you get a key? Did you book a room months ago?”

The eldest brother is obviously enjoying this, both your and Sun’s reactions, unlike Moon who is slowly becoming one with his chair the further he sinks into it, and you can’t find it in yourself to deprive Eclipse of his moment. You weren’t expecting that at all.

He shakes his head and keeps his voice low, like he’s sharing a secret.

“I don’t know if you’ve met him yet, but there’s a man here who I used to work with on a different set years ago. He’s a cameraman, and the bulk of his work is focused on taking candid pictures to be used for promotion. Back when we first met, we both were still graduating past being labeled as fresh blood in the industry, so we ended up hitting it off. He’s been a good friend of mine ever since.” Long fingers fold together, and Eclipse props his elbows on the table, shadowed metal almost ominous in the light. “That’s all to say that he was invited to tonight’s party as a plus one because his niece is one of the actresses for this series, and they’re rather close. He chose to book a room at this hotel months ago for the event out of convenience.”

Eclipse leans in closer as excitement in his voice builds, and like an infectious pull, you mirror his movement.

“Here’s where it gets interesting,” he simpers. “I overheard that this place has a pool and bar—more specifically, a rooftop pool and bar. Due to the cold weather, the outdoor half of the pool has been closed for winter, but the indoor half has been kept open. And currently, guests are allowed to use their keycards to enjoy a nice swim and some drinks from ten o’clock in the morning to ten o’clock at night. So naturally, when I expressed my interest in accessing the place, my friend gave me one of his spare keys with the exception that I don’t tell anyone where I got it from.”

You're astounded and can see how Eclipse relishes having such a captive audience.

“Kind of failed on that front already,” Moon tacks on blithely. He feigns disinterest, but his gaze is fixed on you as well, assessing.

You hope he isn’t readying to read you your Miranda rights if you so much as suggest an iota of interest in this.

Eclipse, however, only puffs out a synthetic breath at his little brother.

“Anyone who’s a snitch,” he clarifies.

“So what you’re saying is,” you say, still starry-eyed with wonder, “we can sneak up to the rooftop and watch the fireworks from there?”

“Among other things, yes.”

You pause.

“Other things?”

Eclipse doesn’t answer. But his shifty keek at Sun has you feeling on edge.

“Oh!”

You flinch as Sun violently shoots to his feet, chair scraping behind him, and he is just as wide-eyed as you.

“I’m suddenly fully on board with this plan without any dubious behavior whatsoever.” He holds a hand out to you. “Let’s go do some illicit activities.”

You side-eye Moon. Sun does much the same.

“By which I mean technically not illicit at all,” he hastily adds. He wiggles his fingertips at you. “Coming, doll?”

Your hand reaches for his.

��Nothing dubious, huh?”

Sun gently pulls you out of your seat. The animatronic picks up your coat too and drapes it over your shoulders before you can have time to think about it, and the warmth of your coat extends deeper than it normally would. He takes your hand with a stifled sound that is by definition just plain cute. Suspicious or not, you’ll go wherever he leads as long as it means staying by his side. Clearly, the brothers have something planned, especially since Moon hasn’t made a peep where he normally would about anything remotely smelling of unlawful, and you squirm with your own enthusiasm.

“Here.” Eclipse gives Sun the keycard, and while Sun pockets it, you frown in confusion.

“Wait, aren’t you two coming with us?”

At long last, Moon breaks his silence with a benign grin aimed up at you.

“In a minute, starling. Go on up before I change my mind.”

Eclipse tips his head at the elevators.

“We’ll catch up with you shortly. Sunny wants to share something with you first.”

Said animatronic is trembling like a live wire in his bundle of excitement.

“I hope that isn’t what you mean by illicit,” you snark, and you let Sun steer you out of the room with not a second to spare.

“No, no, you won’t find any sort of recreational things on me. I have clean pockets, promise!”

You almost lose your footing, but the other is quick to catch you.

“Thanks.” You pat him appreciatively. “ Also, I wasn’t thinking you had any dirty pockets there, Sunny. But now that you mentioned it… Hm, I might just need to check for myself and thoroughly investigate.”

You watch in bemusement as Sun repeatedly presses the elevator button to summon it. His head snaps to you with some wily scheme dancing inside, his blatant impatience subconsciously pulling you in so that you have to tilt your head back farther to keep him and his lovely rays in sight.

His inner mechanisms click and whir at your closeness. With the hand not holding yours, he taps you on the nose, making you wrinkle it.

“Let’s not get handsy just yet, dear. We haven’t even discussed marriage.”

That earns him a scoff.

“Then color me surprised, snookums, because it sure seems like we’re eloping.”

You lean your weight against his side, confident that he won’t mind, and Sun lets go of your hand to wrap an arm around your shoulders instead. As you’d suspected, he squeezes you like he plans to imprint you there.

One of the two elevators dings upon its arrival, and the second the doors swish open, Sun hustles you inside. His barely restrained frenetic energy has you snickering, to which he lightheartedly swats you. Once he’s pushed the button for the top floor with more aggressive tapping, he spins back around to give you his full attention. His boundless enthusiasm means a need to channel it somewhere, so it’s no surprise when his fingers continue to busy themselves by beginning to undo one of the buttons of his cuffs to roll his sleeve up to his elbow.

“Trust me, you will know when we’re eloping,” he remarks without thought as he’s focused on his task, neatly tucking away fabric and moving on to the next sleeve.

Oh, he makes it too easy for you sometimes. You brace against the wall while letting a flirtatious smirk emerge. It’s impossible not to tease him a little more, not when you’ve got him trapped like this.

“When we elope, detective?” you echo smugly, pulling a little of your character to the surface. You can’t help it when he walked right into that one.

Sun doesn’t say anything.

Not in the way you’d expected, however. He doesn’t freeze like it was a Freudian slip of the tongue or react with visible panic. No, he doesn’t utter a single word in the aftermath of that little taunt, but he needn’t do so in the way his eyes speak for himself.

Cerulean blue is piercing in low light, you realize. Unwavering as he doesn’t add anything more to confirm or deny your question. You’re playing a losing game of trying not to focus on the bare metal that is revealed as Sun finishes rolling up both his sleeves. Only a beat more of silence has to pass before you realize that you’re the one who’s prey to the sudden intensity of the solitude from the craziness of the night. It’s just you and Sun now and a weighty stillness in the shadow of what you’d thought was an ignorant exchange. Somehow, that has you more uncentered than probably any comeback he could have returned.

Sun’s not saying anything in defense because he doesn’t intend to deny it.

You swallow. Nothing but the vibration of the elevator and its lighthearted music disturbs whatever tension has begun to form. Not unwelcome or even necessarily uncomfortable. But it is noticeable, and you’re becoming extremely aware of everything in the small space, namely the animatronic who’s taking up most of it right in front of you.

Before the tension can get any thicker, the elevator comes to a halt somewhere in its ascent. You and Sun watch as someone, presumably a hotel guest, steps onto the elevator with you, reaches over, and taps a button for a few floors up.

You were wrong; the tension can get thicker, and it is compressing you.

The ride up is painfully silent, made worse by the fact that for whatever reason, Sun does not stop staring at you. You’re just an arm’s reach shy of being cornered against the wall, and apparently, Sun sees no issue with this and how it might look to the unexpected friend who’s joined the circus.

Hardly ten seconds pass, but it feels like an eternity before the other person’s floor is reached. They exit without a word or a glance in your direction, and that’s exactly how you prefer it. Without looking, Sun reaches over and nudges the button to close the doors. They slide shut, and your ride to the top is continued once more with only one animatronic to fill the space and your vision.

Funnily enough, this is the first chance all night that you really get a good view of his outfit, what with him being so close. Since you’re desperate to latch onto anything else, you concentrate on that instead. To your surprise, what you see has you in tickled disbelief.

Blinking, you nod in his direction and say, “Please tell me those suspenders are from your costume.”

Sun glances down at the thick loops of fabric on his person as if he’s seeing them for the first time. Then his grin flashes back up at you, twinkling.

“Do you like them?”

He already knows the answer, cheeky thing.

“As if you even need to ask.” You ignore how his amused leer makes your skin pleasantly tingly. You are, in fact, ignoring a lot of things that him being so close is doing to you. A shiver runs down your back. Which you also ignore. “What I’m more shocked by is how you and Moon seem to be sneaking off with pieces of your outfits and getting away with it.”

Sun shrugs and brushes imaginary lint off his shirt with a hum.

“I needed something special from my costume to wear tonight since I wanted to dress to impress. It was either wear these or my handcuffs.”

“…I think you and I might have different definitions of how to impress.”

The animatronic sighs heavily.

“Yes, I know I should have gone with the handcuffs instead. But why else am I supposed to wear suspenders if not to seductively slide them off for you one at a time?”

Sun gives the impression of waggling his brows, rife with an emotion you refuse to label.

“Are you seduced yet?” he croons.

You’re actually on the verge of hysterics after bouncing from that tense moment to now this highly entertaining version of a strip tease, but you’re doing your damndest to keep down the stunned laughter rattling inside your chest. You purse your lips to hold back the tide and then take a second to compose yourself.

“I don’t remember this scene ever being in the script,” you say instead, keenly aware that the elevator is not soundproof nor private. You suddenly wonder if there is a security camera in here and if some poor staff member is seeing all of this, and you almost burst into a guffaw right there.

Sun taps a coquettish finger like he’s shushing you. He can tell how close you are to losing it, and he has no problem chuckling at whatever face you’re making.

“That’s because it’ll be our little secret behind the scenes,” he chirps.

Before you have time to unpack that little remark, the lilting elevator voice declares you’ve reached your destination. You straighten back up when the doors slide apart, a deep exhale blowing past your lips to calm the fluttering in your chest, but Sun doesn’t move just yet.

His hand extends out to you, palm up. A light request and one you don’t have to ponder at all to accept. You’ve noticed that all of the brothers seem to enjoy holding your hand. That’s good, because you enjoy it too.

As the two of you traipse out onto the floor, you’re struck by an intense smell of chlorine. Your lungs expand with the joyous call of swimming pool water, and it’s a small shame that you don’t have a swimsuit on to take a quick dip.

Sun scouts the area with you at his side. Miraculously, the floor appears entirely vacant and ghostly quiet. Couldn’t be because the pool and bar hours have long since passed. Certainly not. There’s a gym up here too, secured off behind glass walls and an entrance that requires keycard access to get in. But that’s not what you’re here for.

“This way.” You lead Sun down a hallway, trusting your nose.

He’s quiet still, but his steps are no less eager than yours. You wonder what it is he wants to show you and why he needs to show it up here of all places and what on earth was that moment you shared in the elevator because it certainly felt like something. There’s no denying the thrill you get from sneaking in somewhere that’s technically meant only for actual hotel guests and only during certain hours. It makes you remember being a teenager, getting into trouble or always just dancing outside of it with someone you lo—

Someone you care about.

As you and Sun peruse the vacant floor, what you’re doing begins to catch up to you. It starts with a giggle from one or both of you—you’re not sure who, but it’s definitely you—like you’re misbehaving children getting into things you shouldn’t. Very quickly from there, the chortles you had tried to suppress from before begin to slip out with Sun not far behind, and you fall into a repetitive pattern of stifling your hitching breaths and hushing each other with no success.

“Sun, you’ve gotta—” you loudly snort and laugh even more. “You’ve gotta stop—”

“Ohoho, I’ve got to stop? Not this barrel of laughs right next to me?” he gibes, his free hand snaking out and poking you in your sensitive stomach.

“H-hey, no! You cut that out right now, mister!”

Sun’s fingers wriggle treacherously, and your squeal bounces off the walls. Another round of shushing does little to quell the jittering butterflies in your stomach that are making your chest heave with half-caught breaths. To your relief, Sun ceases the merciless assault on your ticklish side, but it’s only to then stop in place.

You stop as well when you realize he’s not budging, and you smile a little crookedly over your shoulder at the unreadable way he looks at you.

Standing there in the hall, Sun doesn’t move an inch aside from his rays that twirl in a leisurely circle. His hand is warm in yours, and his focus doesn’t stray to anywhere except you. He takes a long moment to just keep you at his side, quiet and contemplating.

Then, without preamble or any warning, he kindly says, “You have a pretty laugh.”

And wouldn’t you know it, there is now no air conditioning in the room whatsoever because you can feel yourself heating up all over.

“Oh,” you start, openly floundering like a fish out of water. “I’m… Thanks?”

An affectionate huff graces your ears.

“You don’t have to thank me for that, silly. All I mean to say is I enjoy hearing it. Seeing you happy makes me happy.”

Thump-thump.

Seems like all three of the brothers adore leaving you speechless too. You’re aware your mouth is parted, but you don’t even know what to say to that. Sun said it like it was another one of his simple observations he loves to make, like it’s as plain as the weather or the nose on your face.

Like it wasn’t a tease or anything meant to poke fun. Just mere fact.

The edges of your lips find their way back up your cheeks.

“Then I’m glad to hear that. Because you make me happy too,” you say quietly.

Yellow rays pick up speed.

After a subtle glance around, you add, “Not that I don’t appreciate the really sweet confession, but are there any other pressing things you need to admit right now, or do you mind if we get outside first before your brothers show up? You said there was something you wanted to show me.”

The whites behind his blue pupils catch an opalescent flash of light, like mother of pearl.

“I suppose I can wait to tell you about my outstanding arrest warrant,” he says. “Come along then. We don’t have much time left!”

“Wait, your what now? Sun!”

He tugs you after him, warbling giggles promising he’s up to no good, and that’s all the answer you get from the animatronic.

Thankfully, you make it down another hall without further incident as the walled-off pool comes into view. It’s surrounded by glass panes just like the gym. The lights are dim inside, signaling that it isn’t open. But that’s hardly a deterrent, and as you near the door that will let you inside, you can see through the room that on the other side of the pool is another door that leads out onto the rooftop.

In one swift swipe, Sun glides the key across the card reader, and the door unlocks with a beep. Like a true gentleman, he proudly opens the door for you. Or rather, he tries to.

You watch him jolt when the door doesn’t swing open. Grunting, he then grinds his heels into the floor and heaves and tries to yank on the door with all his might. The metal and glass obstacle refuses to budge.

Having some pity on him, you calmly say, “Honeybee, it’s push, not pull.”

He pauses. Stares. Gently, he nudges the door in the opposite direction. It swings open wide.

His grin is an even, flat line.

“I knew that.”

“Sure you did.”

Disregarding your mocking tone, he keeps the door propped open with a foot and bows low.

“After you, my dove.”

You shake your head at the endearment and step past him, waiting for him to quietly close the door behind you before you pipe up, voice echoing across the water.

“Are you just throwing out pet names now and seeing what sticks?”

His chassis purrs with his mirth, restlessness keeping him in motion. “I thought about calling you a chicken, but doing so seemed most fowl.”

“A ch— What did you just call me?!” Oh, you’re about to show him just how non-chicken you are, but you then cut yourself off as soon as his joke lands. Blowing out a loud breath, you give Sun the full scope of your unimpressed glower. His optics lift from his joviality.

“That was the worst pun I’ve ever heard.”

“Got you good though, didn’t I? Hmm?”

When he’s like this, very subtly swaying from one foot to the other like he’s listening to some silent tune and his endless delight needs to be used somewhere, you can’t hold onto a frown to save your life. You just can’t.

So you purse your lips and pout as hard as you can to show just how unamused you are. You’re so unamused. It’s almost funny how deep your lack of amusement runs, it’s so unamusing.

Your lips quiver at the edges. Sun sees it.

Without warning, he sidles up to you, humming some unknown tune, and then with his thumb and forefinger, he reaches up and pinches your lips together, making them even flatter.

“On second thought,” he remarks, completely ignoring your indignant, muffled protest, “a chicken or a dove isn’t accurate because what I’m clearly seeing now is a duck.”

He emphasizes his point with a squeeze, making you create the very unwanted impression of a duckbill, and he springs away from your enraged swat and squeak, delight carrying his voice loud across the pool.

“Sun!” you yell, rubbing your smarting mouth. “Don’t run away!”

“No offense, duckling,” he titters as he does the exact opposite of your demand, “but something tells me that would be to my detriment!”

“Yeah, that something is me! Come back here!”

You chase the fleeing animatronic around the pool and to the door leading outside. Sun slams into it first, sprinting out with you fast on his heels. The icy cold temperature shocks you from its severity, but you’re too lost in the chase to give it much thought. Sun skips all the way past the closed bar and outdoor pool, up a small flight of smooth cement stairs, and to an area overlooking the harbor.

Right into a corner.

Seemingly realizing his mistake, he turns back around, but you’re already there, closing in on him. What’s worse is he’s still cackling, and you don’t know how you’re going to get your payback, but you’ll figure it out somehow.

“Hoohoo, you’re looking a little frosty over there,” he says, hands lifting up in a placating motion as you near. “Perhaps this would be a wonderful time to go back inside where it’s nice and toasty!”

“Perhaps not,” you shoot back, ignoring how you’ve lost the war in maintaining a frown. The joy on Sun’s faceplate is just too contagious.

He drops the placating gesture in favor of hooking a finger in his collar and tugging on it like he’s nervous. What a drama queen.

“You know, I heard diplomacy is in currently! Super popular! All the cool cats are trying it, so I think we should give it a shot too to see what’s what.”

You’ve reached him at this point, and your hands land on your hips. “That’s funny to hear, Sunny, since just thirty seconds ago, you didn’t seem all that interested in it.”

The animatronic sputters at your very sound logic. His expression is not at all apologetic while he pulls an excuse out of thin air.

“Change of heart?” he says uncertainly.

“Yeah, how believable.” The desert has nothing on your arid tone.

You step forward and grasp one of Sun’s bottom rays, one of the few you can actually reach. Though he could very easily withstand your strength, Sun lets you pull him down until he’s eye-level with you. You have some long-winded speech waiting in the wings—pun not intended—about how this “duckling” can meet him step for step in weaponized terms of endearment, and you absolutely will use that to your advantage to drop the most unhinged pet names in front of others when he least expects it.

But then Sun speaks up before you get the chance.

“If we were to, say, hypothetically, continue the trend of listing things that are funny,” he begins, speaking lower now that he’s so close to you, “then I’d like to mention how this little predicament happens to have reminded me of what I wanted to show you.”

Your skepticism is unmatched.

“Does it involve pulling a sudden disappearing act?”

“Goodness, no! That’s the very opposite of what I want because that would mean putting distance between myself and you… little duck.”

Your eyes narrow.

“You’re pushing it.”

“Just moving the goalpost, darling. Let me finish before we run out of time.”

You can’t help cracking up at that, shaking his ray a little so that all of them swing side to side a few degrees.

“What, do you turn into a pumpkin at midnight or something?”

“Excuse you, I’m more akin to a Prince Charming than anything. But that’s beside the point because I have something very important I need to tell you.”

When he says your name then, the silliness ebbing away to make room for something more serious, you perk up, and your smile dims with concern.

But Sun eases away the wrinkles of worry with his thumb, soundlessly cupping your cheek and soothing you in a motion that makes your heart skip. You’ve noticed it doing that a lot lately. He takes the hand that’s listlessly clinging to his ray, curls his long fingers around it, and lifts it up to press a kiss to your knuckles. The wind is slow yet sharp, cutting into your bones. You instinctively huddle into your coat in a vain attempt to preserve some heat.

Sun tuts when you shiver and helps you slide your arms into the sleeves of your coat rather than just keep it around your shoulders.

“I should have brought my jacket up as well so you’d be at least a little warmer. Sorry about that.”

You snatch his hand back, which he gladly accepts.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine with you here. Just tell me what’s on your mind.”

Sun chuffs, shaking his head but minding his rays so that they don’t prod or scrape you. His mouth twitches.

“You’re always so sweet, honeydew. Silly pet names aside, I hope you know that I’m only ever teasing you with them. When I’m not trying to be a romantic, that is, which is actually always, but regardless—”

“Romantic?” you interrupt softly.

This time, Sun’s eyes do widen. His rays pop out wider, and it’s the first time tonight he actually looks rattled.

“Oh! Oh goodness, I did just say that, didn’t I? Not that that isn’t exactly why I brought you up here in the first place, but I had intended to at least drop that particular piece of information with a little more delicateness. I don’t want to go scaring you off so soon before I’ve even had the chance to reach the second bullet point in the speech I’ve rehearsed and scrapped at least a thousand times, and— Oh dear, this isn’t how I’d planned things to go.”

“Sun,” you say as soon as he pauses. His rays begin speeding at your voice, and you resist the sudden desire to close the infinitesimally small space between you. But you do have an inkling of why he brought you up here, why Eclipse and Moon hung back to give you time alone with him.

The math is starting to add up. Surprisingly, even with your rapid fluctuation of heart-pounding excitement, you feel a calmness that reassures you. This is where you’re meant to be, with him.

“Be honest with me,” you request, and Sun nods emphatically. Dork, you think with full affection. You take a deep breath in, hold his gaze and the stars within, and then let your breath out. There’s nowhere else to go, but your feet still try to inch you closer. “Did you bring me up here to kiss me?”

A lull. Out here, it’s a little harder to hear Sun’s mechanisms working overtime, but the fact that you can hear them at all tells you he’s processing quite a bit. That already is a big hint of an answer, but you want to hear him say so yourself.

With an artificial exhale that layers an inexplicable tenderness, he says, “Well, it wasn’t an expectation, but I certainly would be lying if I said I wouldn’t like that. More than that, though, I just wanted to confess how I feel about you and go from there. But I suppose I am that transparent, aren’t I?”

Your cheeks are stretching again from your happiness.

“Don’t feel too bad. It took me until a certain conversation with Eclipse a few weeks ago to realize any of you had feelings for me.”

Another puff, this one exasperated.

“Yes, I'm aware. Honestly, we all thought we weren’t being subtle in the slightest. Even our coworkers noticed, dear.”

You wince and protest, “Okay, well, I thought they were just joking around! You can’t blame me for that. Especially since I thought you all were just playing too.”

“Which remains a mystery to me! I even asked you months ago if you wanted to practice kissing so that we could get it right during filming.”

Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens once more.

The moment he’s referring to is vivid in your memory, only because you’ve thought about it more times than you’d like to admit and had just sadly written it off as Sun being his usual playful self. Yes, he was flirting, but you hadn’t thought he was flirting-flirting. Just that it was the usual game you all play. But still… months ago? Just how long have these three been trying to get your attention?

“You were flirting with me then?” you say quizzically.

Sun chuckles, and one of his arms winds around your waist. He holds you like the daintiest flower, and even you feel a flash of embarrassment over just how much you like that.

“As I said, a mystery. But like any good sleuth, I have a feeling that with your help, we can put our heads together and solve this case.”

You brighten immediately. There he is.

“Ah, I see,” you play along. “Taking inspiration from a certain show, hm? So what are your deductions, Detective Sun?”

“I’m so glad you asked! Because I have quite a few, but for the sake of time and the fact that the fireworks are soon to start, I’ll give you the cliff notes version and do away with any alleged speech, rehearsed or not.”

His palm is so warm around your cheek, hiding you from the cold as much as he can. You hardly even notice it when he’s embracing you like this. Your eyes search his, your entire being ready to latch onto his every word to lock it inside your heart and never let it go.

In the strongest sincerity you’ve ever heard from him, he says, unspeakably gently, “I like you. Not just as a friend, though you are without a doubt one of the best and closest I’ve ever had. I like you in the sense that I have fallen for you. Complete head over heels, tumbling-down-the-staircase kind of mess. I'm absolutely sure you know that by now, but if you don’t, I am not above paying to have it written in the sky so that it gets through your thick but lovable head.” His warning comes with a wagging finger, and you snort despite the unexpected mistiness creeping behind your eyelids again when you blink.

Sun’s fake glower softens to an incandescent warmth, pulling you in like a flower.

“The point is, I want to pursue this feeling with you, as do my brothers. I’m sure they’ve already told you. Heaven knows if I have to listen to Moon brag for another minute about getting a kiss from you tonight, I will lose my sanity. But I also heard from a little birdie that my brothers requested a little, hmm, how did they put it? A head start on the new year?”

You bite your lip. His scrutiny falls lower, and your uneven breath is a cloud of white smoke between you and him.

“Something like that,” you softly say.

Sun’s servos whistle a delighted song.

“I hope you’ll excuse me for being so bold because I’m about to be like that regardless,” he says, “but it sounds like they didn’t do the tradition properly at all. They seem to have missed one very crucial factor, and I think you know exactly what I mean. So with that in mind, precious, may I steal a kiss from you to make sure it’s done right?”

After a confession like that? You wind your arms around his neck, lips parting, blood pounding in your ears. He needn’t have even asked.

It takes a moment to find your voice, but you make sure it reaches him even as a whisper.

“As long as you promise to give it back.” Your fingers toy with the back of his silk tie.

You don’t mistake the way his arms tremble like he’s afraid to hold you any tighter.

His words fall on a cadence weighted down by obvious want.

“If that’s the price for stealing such a lovely treasure,” he respires synthetically, “then I might just have to pay it over and over again.”

In the next second, his mouth finds yours, pressing headily to your lips and threatening to consume you whole. You gasp against him, clinging to the back of his shirt needily while his hand crawls to the back of your head and cups it in a gentle hold so that he can better angle the kiss. His arm doesn’t constrict your waist, but he keeps you there with the assuredness that he doesn’t want to let you go, and his deep groan at your insistence to hold him even tighter makes you lightheaded.

The snowing has stopped, and the temperature has continued to only drop, but you couldn’t feel hotter. The flame inside of you bursts to life with a rush of a powerful emotion that would have once scared you away. Now you only tiptoe around it, not ready to reveal it yet but knowing that it is there, waiting and growing steadily every moment you spend with Sun and his brothers.

You tilt your head with a ragged exhale while Sun twines some of your hair between his fingers, not yanking but prompting a delicious tension that sends a wonderful pleasure through your skull. You’re shivering again, and it’s all his doing.

He writes intimacy and sentiment on your lips with his teeth, capturing every micro-breath you try to take, and still you try to press closer to him. He breaks the kiss for a split second that allows you all of one heightened inhale before he’s stealing that too, and you’re burning together in an addictive passion that you never want to unlearn. For as long as he’ll allow it, you want to know only the smooth curve of his mouth and the hot metal of his chassis that is flush with your chest and the distracting digits dragging along the back of your head and the protective line of his arm that coils around your waist with an equally firm hand securing you there.

That’s all you need to know in the moment.

When Sun parts from you, moving away first because he probably correctly guessed that you’d keep kissing him until you passed out, his eyes slip open halfway, and his grin is askew like he’s swooning. You’re sure you have a similar goofy look too, concealed just barely by the clouds of white that spill out along every exhale while your lungs hurt delightfully. The cold snap strengthens when yellow rays spin at such a fast pace, they’re almost invisible.

The world is near-silent up here, city activity sounding so far away that it doesn’t disturb this perfect peace you’ve found. You don’t want to break the quiet and risk it all being a figment of your imagination once more. So you watch in wonder at how Sun peers at you intently, like he’s fascinated by whatever sight you make.

He braves cutting the silence first, albeit with a far-from-intrusive volume.

“Hmm, how was that? Do you think we got it right, or should we try again?”

You exhale long and slow. The white cloud of air billows.

“I don’t see how it could possibly be more perfect than that.” You adore the way Sun melts at your admission. “At this point, I’m just waiting to wake up.”

The solar animatronic pauses. His rays twist again, back and forth as if in uncertainty.

“From a dream or a nightmare?” he presses.

“A dream, silly.” You fondly shake your head. “Just seems like I’ve been imagining having this for so long, it doesn’t feel real. You, Moon, and Eclipse. I’m worried I’ll blink and be back in my own bed again, alone.”

The hand at your side taps a little rhythm. Sun’s nervousness vanishes as quick as a spring shower.

“I’m afraid to break the news to you,” he says, “but if those are the dreams you’re having, I won’t be waking you up anytime soon.”

You receive a quick kiss on the nose, which makes you twitch and Sun coo at that. You get him back with a kiss to the corner of his teeth. His wavering thrum of pleasure draws out until it morphs into a frustrated groan.

It’s your turn for concern.

“What’s wrong?”

Sun grunts, “Nothing, nothing. Just reminded that I am sadly not an only child.”

“What?”

He inclines his head at something behind you, and you turn in his arms to see what he’s looking at, much to his disheartened whine.

Just beyond the pool room next to the glass door that requires a key to enter, Moon stands there in the hallway, pressed to the glass and a dead grin on his face. His red pupils nearly take up the entirety of his optics. Eclipse is not too far off, but he’s at least giving you some sense of privacy by not staring your way.

Moon gives you a little wave.

You turn back to Sun.

“You know those videos people post of their pets watching them from the window?”

Sun releases a loud, rumbling hiss of static amusement.

“Oh, don’t let them hear you say that. I’m pretty sure at least one of those two in there bites.”

“But not you?” you quip, elbowing him.

Blue flickers against white.

“Only if you ask me to.”

Right then. Probably should have seen that one coming from a mile away.

“Raincheck,” you deflect. “Let’s let the others out first before they miss the fireworks.”

Sun dramatically releases you with a disappointed flair fitting for the stage, but he does as you request.

“I’ll go get the door. You wait right there, precious.”

You watch him skitter over back around the outdoor pool, through the door into the pool room, and then over to the door where his brothers wait. As soon as he tries to open it, a strange sort of tug of war begins where Sun attempts to pull one way, and Moon pulls just as hard on the other side. Judging by his expression, he’s doing it just for the sake of being a brat. The two engage in some back and forth, and though you can’t hear them, you can see Sun’s annoyance and Moon’s pure delight. It’s broken up finally by Eclipse grabbing the back of Moon’s coat and lifting him up like he’s scruffing a cat. Moon doesn’t even put up a fight, seemingly appeased that he sufficiently got under his other brother’s wires.

Once Eclipse sets him back down, Sun opens the door, and the three of them traipse through the pool room to the rooftop exit.

“I should have just left you in there!” Sun is saying as he throws open the door with a harrumph. “Honestly, you’re just so unnecessarily much sometimes!”

“Worth it,” Moon returns, unaffected by his sibling’s agitation. He lights up when he spies you.

“Moonie,” you tease as he approaches, “are you annoying your brother again on purpose?”

“No,” Moon says at the same time Sun gives an annoyed “yes.”

“It’s sibling tax,” he clarifies, coming to a stop next to you.

You tsk.

“I’d be careful if I were you. That sibling tax might come at a cost if Sun decides to do something like throw your hat off the building.”

You’ve barely finished the sentence before dark blue and silver digits are slamming onto the brim of Moon’s hat. He sends a dirty scowl at his brother who’s more than intrigued at the prospect by the sounds of it.

His voice is gruff and disapproving at you.

“Don’t give him ideas.”

Sun snips back, “Don’t be a varmint then.”

While the bickering continues, you find yourself mouthing varmint in confusion at Eclipse. He just shakes his head, equally bemused.

“Three minutes to midnight,” he announces over the sounds of ill-timed threats, probably to redirect his brothers’ focus.

You face the harbor. Sun stands sullenly at your side, and you startle in initial surprise when two arms slide over your shoulders from behind and loosely cross your chest. You sag against Eclipse, idly reaching up to rub one of his wrists as the approaching hour and year looms before you. It’s crazy to you how in such a short amount of time, you’ve grown so comfortable with the celestial brothers. Like something you’ve come to expect and especially welcome. The meaning and intent behind that comfort is the only part that’s shifted, and the change is one that leaves you undeniably giddy.

You’ve celebrated New Year’s Eve before, but never like this. Not with people who mean the world to you in ways you can’t even describe. It’s an entirely new course of life that you’re about to start with them, tentatively exploring this uncharted territory together, and the thought stirs up your curiosity.

What lies ahead? Not just relationship-wise, though that’s something you doubt you could really fathom with all the nuances you will surely find. The unknowing surrounding it actually gives you some relief. You don’t have to stress over and evaluate your every move. Whatever happens with them—with Sun, Moon, and Eclipse—will happen naturally. It’s cause for excitement, which has you shivering from more than just the cold now.

But you find your mind drifting to what will come after this show is finished. You’ve gotten so used to being with them at most hours of the day because you work together. What will it be like afterwards when the time you have with them will be reserved for coming home to a full apartment and making new memories in a much more intimate setting? Where will their talent take them next?

Before you can second-guess yourself, you broach the topic.

“Earlier tonight, I asked you what you’re doing after this,” you say, feeling the heavy weight of the attention from all three. You wet your dry lips. “And Moon was too busy being a gremlin to let me get a straight answer.”

The corners of Moon’s mouth scrunch up, but he doesn’t interrupt you.

“What I really meant back there was… what are you guys going to do after our show is over? Do you have any gigs lined up?”

“Not quite.” Sun clasps his hands together. “But our agent did tip us about a possible dual leviathan role that myself and Moon might consider. It’d mean a lot of CGI, but we would get to wear those funky motion capture suits with the little dots all over them! So who knows. We might just end up trying out for that.”

Your lips quirk in bemusement as you try to imagine it.

“Don’t you need to be, I don’t know, swimming in order to act out a big, scary leviathan?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Moon dismisses, and he leans back against the rooftop balcony. The gentle crimson glow when he studies you is like dying stars in this low light. “If anything, it will be a chance to challenge ourselves in not using our voices as much unless they decide to make the leviathans capable of speech. What Sun said does have its appeal, and we’d probably get to experience some wire acrobatics. But I also think we’d have fun trying our hands at something spooky. Maybe with cryptids or familiars or lifeguards. We’re great at being scary, you know.”

Your face wrinkles.

“One of those is not like the others.”

“You just haven’t seen me acting as a demon yet.”

“I see you act like that every day,” you say evenly to the tune of Sun’s and Eclipse’s ensuing chortles and Moon’s sharp squint. “Wouldn’t really call that one the outlier of the ideas you suggested.”

“Whatever the case, Clip hasn’t decided where he’ll go next either,” Sun adds, earning a noise of agreement from the animatronic behind you. “I heard there might be potential for a third role in the leviathan storyline, but it would be a prequel of sorts. Curious how they’re planning on pulling that one off.”

“They really do plan ahead, huh?” You tap a finger on your arm, and your gaze is pulled to the winter night sky once more. It is so beautiful up here.

“And what about you?” Eclipse chimes next. “Where will you go after this?”

A hum stirs from your throat.

You’re not sure yet. There is a realm of possibilities stretching out before you. The time to contact your acting agent is nearing, and you feel a strong curl of melancholy at the show you’ve put your heart and soul into coming to its end. It’s been a wild ride, and the memories you’ve gained from your experiences will follow you long after you’ve parted ways with the show. But as Sun said, who knows? Maybe one day you’ll find yourself slipping back into your vigilante costume again and playing a game of chase with a pair of handsome detectives.

You look to your boys, standing with you in the cold and enjoying the seclusion from the rest of the city.

“I haven’t quite figured that out yet,” you answer truthfully. You reach out, and without hesitation, Sun and Moon each take your offered hands, one after the other, large metal joints protecting your fragile fingers from the bitter chill. “But no matter where I end up, I’m sure that it won’t be the same without working next to you.”

Sun holds you tighter.

“True, it will be impossible to ever replace the amazing cohorts that we were. But that’s why you’ve got us to come home to now, yes?”

His happy expression reflects back onto you. He’s right. You have a lot to explore now, don’t you? And it all starts with them.

“Yeah. I shouldn’t worry about the future now. After all, I’ve only got two hands.”

Moon’s optics gleam dangerously with his ever-present grin.

“Don’t forget your third one,” he says, nodding surreptitiously behind you.

You start to turn, but before you can, Eclipse’s voice grazes your ear.

“Oh, they won’t.”

Cold metal just barely singes you as a large hand brushes under your chin and tilts your head up until you can see him hovering over you. His eyes are flames in the dark, shining upon you with the intensity of a celestial body. His rays have begun to whirl, and you think it might be because of the wind because it sorely reminds you of a pinwheel, and you have to choke back a laugh. It’s not hard to do when his fingertips caress your skin, snaring your focus and dragging a plume of air past your lips.

“No,” you agree warmly. “I won’t.”

Your inhale stutters right back out when the animatronic stoops down low enough to press a kiss to your forehead before letting your chin go. The sound of a piercing whistle and thunderous boom retrieves your attention, bringing it to the harbor as the first crackles of color light up the night.

The ensuing display is breathtaking. The subtle smell of smoke from the fireworks catches on the wind and carries over to your group as you watch in awe the dawning of a new year. It’s heralded by sparks of intricate designs and blooms that make you squeeze the hands you’re holding on to, savoring the twin pulses you receive in turn. The presence at your back is a solid wall shielding you from the cold as much as possible, heavy arms a comfort that drape loosely around your front.

As you enjoy the fireworks with Moon, Eclipse, and Sun, you can’t help but smirk at what your beloved vigilante would have to say to this. No doubt they’d believe it to be some fever dream, and honestly, up until tonight, you’d thought the same. You’re certain that the smooth operative nature of the brothers’ teamwork to subdue your heart is almost identical to a parallel universe of a different era and a different story—one you can imagine as surely as the ringing of bells in your hair.

Just, you know. Under very different circumstances and outcomes.

For the next half hour, you relish the colorful nighttime display with your boys, all the way up to and through the grand finale. By the time the show ends, you are shaking from the cold, but it’s worth it for the special moment you get to share with them. Everything melds together in a joyous night that follows you all the way back home with the three animatronics whom you adore. Perhaps one day, you might even have the courage to confess that you love them, even though you have a strong suspicion they already know that, confession or no. It’s a comfort to know that just like with everything else, they’ll wait for you first.

But that’s a story for another time.

#eclipse x reader #sun x reader #moon x reader #daycare attendant x reader #sleuth jesters actor au #fnaf sb #writing tag #hope you all enjoy sweet and kind Eclipse while he lasts #because after this I'm jumping back into the other AU where he lives and makes it everyone's problem lol

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