Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The waves lap onto the boardwalk, waves as tall as houses breaking on the wood beside them. A storm is brewing. The twins walk side by side in solemn silence. It’s not worry or resignation, it's a plot beginning to brew. The port town of Inkwell was somewhat familiar to them but they had grown up in a forest far from town so they kept close to each other. The twins had just returned from a job a day earlier, a gruesome one even by their standards. When they came home to their cabin Elder Kettle and Chalice had been waiting for them. Cuphead’s spouse had been chosen and he should head into town to meet them at the Darling mansion on the far end of town. And then they’d be married the next day.

Mugman had insisted he come with him, worried his brother's nerves would just cause him to make a joke out of the situation. He was right, of course, Cuphead could feel his head bubbling even as they’re blocks away. This irrational fear only feeds his smile so it grows wider and wider, anticipating any possible fight or danger with joy. Mugs is walking ahead of him, gazing at the street signs as he follows Elder Kettle’s directions down the road. Before they had both left Chalice had shoved them into suits so they wouldn’t ‘look like hobos’ in her own words. Honestly he felt stranger in this stuffy thing than in his trench coat. This kind of thing didn’t really suit them anymore, heh, even Mugs looked weird.  The old man had let him keep his tie undone at least or he’d probably suffocate. 

The town is grim today and mostly vacant of life. There's a fish monger or two lifelessly chopping heads off fish but they don’t care to interact at all. The sound of the waves were nice though, like a white noise that blanketed his thoughts. Today he was to meet his chosen spouse. Cuphead had taken on the burden of the first marriage, first child to give up, so his brother might have time to find someone to actually love. At least for a short time unless they could convince the Devil to allow a marriage unchosen by him. There was still some hope and if this is what Cuphead could do to shield his brother from pain? He’d do it without hesitation. It didn’t really matter to him who his future partner was, he knew he wouldn’t be able to care for them like others normally would. Romance was something that escaped his grasp and feelings of more than familial love alluded him entirely. Not for lack of trying though.

He’d get through the first couple of dates, straining himself to see the other as something more than a friend. But it’d never work out, they’d expect more and he’d never be able to give it to them. It was hard for them to understand he rarely felt feelings like that, he’d much rather treat them like a friend. That way you’d get all the benefits of knowing someone without the weight of expectations of a deeper relationship. Most didn’t really share his thought process and would leave him soon enough. It was sad, sure, but it was his life and Cups didn’t feel like changing himself for anyone, no matter how much he cared for him. Except for Mugs, he’d change for him. But his brother didn’t need to be told that. 

Their constant arguments from childhood had fizzled out the minute Cuphead had sold their souls to Satan and doomed them to his service for the rest of their lives. Of course there was an initial fight, Mugman rightfully lashing out at him, but all it took was one near fatal fight to unite them again. Since then they had come to an understanding to always value the other and wasting time on fighting started to feel useless. Cupheads provocations became less and less and Mugman’s anger would only be directed at others now. They became an undivided front and sometimes frighteningly codependent. Not that either of them cared, it was them vs. the world. Of course Chalice and Elder Kettle were just as important but they didn’t get it, y’know? 

What a spiral, huh? It’s why their walk is so quiet, all they can think of is how this change might affect them. That’s what made Cups uneasy. He’d never expect this to drive something between them but you never know what tricks the devil will pull. Cups hopes whatever poor sucker he got stuck with didn’t want revenge or had a lover that’d bother them endlessly. Another reason to avoid romance, it was messy and ruinous. Mugs was steaming on something as well, literally and figuratively, his fingers tapping his palm with a repetitive clink clink clink. Would he be expected to live without Mugman now? To not have his constant little noises beside him, to miss him after being half of a whole his entire life? The only other times they had been apart were those horrifying moments when one of them would die before their soul was snapped back into their body. And that was seconds, minutes. Not days, or even worse, weeks. Cuphead planned to make up some bullshit about his brother being a chaperone for a couple weeks, but past that? 

… Privately Cuphead hopes that whoever he’ll be tied to for the rest of his life can be a friend to him. A partner in crime, if you will. He didn’t know what was worse; a spouse who’d fight with him everyday or one who was boring. Maybe he really was nervous to meet this person. 

Mugman comes to a stop in front of him and Cuphead steps up beside him, hands in his pockets. Both look up at the large manor steps ahead. It loomed above them, squashed between the rest of the town around them and the forest behind it. Moss and ivy from the trees behind loop around its pillars and walls making the house look like it's getting eaten alive. Its brick siding is pristine, though, not a chip in place with white trims containing the windows.There's a silver plaque by the front door, “Darling Residence.” This is the place. Fancier than any place the boys had lived in. They exchange a look, they’d been through worse. Faced scarier things. Even if it didn’t feel like that at the moment. 

They step up to the door in tandem, Mugs giving 3 sharp wraps to the wooden exterior before standing back. The blue twin seemed tense, like he was waiting for a thug to launch out of the door with a shank for his neck. Cuphead exuded calm, leaning back with his hands in his pocket, a small grin on his face. At least on the outside, he’d perfected the mask of calm to hide his deeper fears by now. Having a good poker face was important for gambling after all, and life if you asked him. A man with a long face and symmetrical mutton chops opens the door, a deep scowl on his face. He’s wearing a white vest and a grey pin stripe undershirt and pants. 

The man looks the twins up and down with a disdain that's almost audible, “Who are you?” He holds the door mostly closed with a gloved hand, glaring out from the crack. 

Mugs speaks up, “We’re the Kettles. Here to meet with Bendy Darling.” His voice is all business in that way Cuphead was used to hearing. Mugs shifts to one side indicating himself and his twin, “I’m Mugman, this is Cuphead.” 

The presumed butler huffs like he couldn’t give a damn. He turns away and shuts the door. Mugs gags on his next words and starts to steam with annoyance. Cupheads a little miffed as well, what a warm welcome, eh? Before either of them can do anything stupid the door opens again. This time it’s a younger man, he has six arms, mostly tucked behind his back politely. He’s giving a sheepish grin to the two outside. He’s only wearing a tie and is pitch black otherwise, even his little fangs that break up his smile are tinted grey. 

The little spider squeaks at them, whether it’s an apology or welcome is up to debate, and opens the front door wide. The twins step into the foyer and see the butler from before standing just inside. He’s holding a clipboard overflowing with papers and scanning over it. Mugs crosses his arms at the sight, keeping his anger in. But Cuphead is looking around in interest, trying to parse the kind of person living here. Obviously they didn’t have good help, not only by attitude but the porcelain's keen eye could spot several crannies full of dust from where he’s standing. Before he can scan over any of the paintings or furniture he hears a squeak from his right. The spider is holding out two of his hands, nodding his head at Cuphead.

It takes a moment for him to realize what the little guy was talking about, he puts both hands on his collar and pulls it out in show, “Nah, I’ll keep it on. It’s basically a part of my charm.” He finishes with a smirk that draws another fangy smile out of the spider. Not that he was especially attached to this frumpy overcoat, he’d just feel naked without it. There's a little chirp from the junior steward and he asks the same of Mugs, who just waves him off with a short motion. By this point the butler from before has approached them again, holding the clipboard in one hand and scratching his chop in the other. 

“Says here we were expecting you 30 minutes ago,” He says, looking up from the board with an accusatory glare. He clicks open a pen that had been attached to the board, noting something down on the page. God this guy was a piece of work, what's his deal? The spider walks away further into the house, unfurling his arms as he steps around a corner. In a gruff deadpan the butler asks, “Do you need me to call the watchmaker to check your times? Or you just like wasting mine?” He doesn’t bother with waiting for an answer, his own point having gotten across. He flips the displaced papers back on the clipboard and stows in a side table.

Cuphead snorts, a goofy grin overtaking his face. Plans to torment this guy already formed in his head, he wondered how mad he’d get if Cups actually turned back all the clocks in the house. The butler doesn’t see it as his back is turned but his twin can surely feel it by the way Cuphead shifts his feet. Mugs will just be glad to see this guy get some sort of karma, whatever his twin planned.  There's a skittering from down the hall and the spider from before peaks around the corner, hands on the door frame. He squeaks, getting the Butlers attention. 

The gruff man looks up and nods his head at the other. He turns to face the men, hands on his hips. “Follow Edgar, he’ll take you into the parlor,” Short and to the point before he walks into a door close to the side table he’d put away his clipboard in. The door closes behind him with a sharp click. Mugman finally drops his arms, clenching his fists at his side instead. Cup comes up behind him and pats his shoulder in camaraderie. This was only the staff. Edgar squeaks at them, waving them over with two of his left hands, the others still attached to the door frame. 

“Coming,” Cuphead says, taking the lead. He walks slowly, taking his time to take in his surroundings now. There are paintings on the walls, each framed in gold. They seemed to be movie posters or something similar, Cuphead couldn’t read much of what they said but the photography was flashy enough. Each more dazzling than the last and all centered around this beautiful man. A demon cloaked in color, bright reds, dark forest green, happy yellows, and detailed meticulously. The demon smiled widely in the frames, his unabashed joy radiating even from the still paint. Could the person in this manor really like this guy so much? Sure he was interesting but how many pictures could you have of the same guy. Was he marrying some sort of fanatic? At least they weren’t boring. The porcelain wondered how they had even so much merchandise for a performer like this, their town wasn’t often frequented by the more posh type. And this character seemed rather posh. Mugman isn’t paying any attention to the pictures though, counting the doors and marking the turns in his head. Subconsciously he’s grabbed onto his scarf with one hand. 

Edgar scurries ahead of them both walking awkwardly on two feet. He walks in a wave but without the rest of his feet on the ground it mostly looks like he’s limping. Cuphead looks at him, leaning forward with his hands in his pockets. He’s a curious guy, Cups might as well get used to seeing him if he’ll be living here. He wondered if those squeaks ever started to sound like words if you got used to him. The spider keeps his face ahead, not noticing the intrusion into his personal space. Mugs is still nervously pulling on his scarf, eyes ahead. 

Edgar stops in front of a door, its double wide thick spruce with silver handles. The spider lets out a chirp, flicking his eye between the brothers. Cuphead tenses imperceptibly, straightening up to his full height and pulling out his hands from his pockets. It’s dawning on him that they’re just through this door. His face is still the picture of a charming smile but inside… He swallows. Edgar opens the door only to lean his head in letting out another squeak, presumably for the people in the room. There's a pause as the spider waits and then another short squeak before he swings the door open, holding it for the brothers. In order to not let his head get the better of him, Cuphead steps into the room. 

The windows are tall, cracked open and pushing the long linen curtains along in the wind. They float gently, not whipping or cutting, but falling like waves into the room. Two couches fill most of the room in the middle with loveseats around the edges of the room. Each piece of seating is covered in green velvet with numerous decorative pillows. Like the rest of the manor, it makes Cuphead feel dirty, like he’s figuratively tracking mud everywhere. Above a fireplace is a huge family portrait housing 4 figures. Half of it is covered in a black mourning silk, all except the pious figure of a little demon. A portrait mirrored by the man sitting on one of the couches in the middle of the room. Cuphead takes this all in with a sideways look, mostly keeping his eyes on the demon. What a surprise! He even feels his eyebrows raise in shock. The door closes behind the twins, leaving no escape now. 

The demon is staring at them, not looking them up and down but straight in their eyes, his eyes unblinking. He’s wearing a simple black suit with a dark maroon tie, all pressed into perfect form. Cuphead keeps his smile up like a shield, it dimming into something devoid of even fake joy. The Devil had chosen a demon spouse for Cuphead, hilarious. He should’ve known something like this would happen. This marriage was just another way for the Devil to control them, sending him off to one of his cronies was the worst Cups could think of in terms of spouse. Maybe this guy was getting a present for good behavior, whatever that was for demons. The brothers take the couch across from him, staring right back at him. 

For any other the demon would be intimidating, he had an aura about him that meant trouble. But the brothers had seen much worse. Mugman was glaring, sitting up straight in his seat with his hands folded in his lap. Cuphead, however, leaned forward on his knees, hanging his elbows on them and holding his hands together. His grin was devoid of warmth and starting to go into disturbing as the silence yawned open between them all. 

The demon sucks in a breath before speaking, “Welcome to Darling Manor. My name is Bendy Darling and I am the Head of House.” His voice had a melodic sound to it though his tone nearly covered it. It confirmed, though there was no doubt, that this man was a singer. His head was held high, a perfect picture of the Head he was. Bendy didn’t look afraid of them either. 

“Do you not have a chaperone?” Mugman asked, almost immediately after Bendy. His brother was antsy about it, probably agitated that the situation was different then the one he pictured in his mind. 

Bendy turns to focus his gaze on Mugman, “No. The rest of my house is away in the military. But I assume we can handle this civilly on our own, correct?” The demon's tail flicks behind him with annoyance, if Cuphead could guess they weren’t making the best first impression. He’d fix that.

“Of course. I don’t see why not? Eh, Mugs?” He elbows his brother but keeps his eyes trained on Bendy. It seems like some sort of extended staring contest, whoever blinks first will be showing the other they’ve lost their nerve. Cuphead tilts his head, bowing it in greeting, “My name is Cuphead. This is Mugman.”

“Hm,” Bendy hums back, his eyes now fully trained on only the red porcelain. His eyes are dark, it makes Cuphead feel like he’s mistaken him for that gleeful  man on the posters outside.  He continues, “So which one of you is my fiance?”

There's a glance between the twins, this is it, and then Cuphead sticks out his hand over the table waiting for a handshake, “That’d be me.” He has a smarmy smile on his face, something he leaves up on purpose. 

The demon stares at his hand for a very long moment. Then he closes his eyes and lets an imperceptible sigh as he gives the red porcelain his hand. His grip is lax, the demon's claws only barely imprinting the fabric of Cuphead's glove. On the other hand the cup has a firm grip, holding the other hand with pointedly concealed power. It does its job as Bendy lets his hand go quickly, retreating back to his couch with a couple words, “Nice to meet you.” 

Cupheads grin widens and he feels a bit mean to be taking out his nerves like this. A thought that comes to him as soon as his behavior catches up to his mind. But, well, it’s sort of too late for him to flip on his head. Hamming it up like this will give him a better chance at making Bendy listen to him though. And he needed to convince him that Mugman needed to stay here with them. He’d keep it going then, “Nice home you have here. Plenty of rooms?” 

Bendy looks at him darkly, it seems his first impression of his porcelain fiance is only getting worse. Not like Cuphead had anything positive to go off of the demon, for all he knew the person that had intrigued him in those photographs was Bendy’s twin brother off to join the military now. And Cuphead was stuck with the boring one here at home. The demon answered, “Yes. It’s a family inheritance and quite large.”

“Good good, then how about my brother staying with us?” Cuphead says, his hand has long been dropped onto the table between them and now his fingers drum against it. It can’t be helped as he realizes this might be too quick. He realizes this as he feels Mugman shift forward in his seat, taking a breath as if he is about to speak and then closing his mouth. Cuphead looks at him out of the corner of his eye, now wishing that his brother would say something to fill the pause.

And what a big pause it is. Bendy hasn’t said anything back to him, staring back in silence. His expression is blank, his feelings hidden entirely from the twins. Bendy starts slowly, like he wishes there was a way out of this, “I. Don’t see why not.” 

“Great!” Cuphead smiles, actually trying not to look too menacing. Bendy had agreed to that easily, great. Seems like this guy wasn’t unreasonable, even though he was technically making the unreasonable ask, but! You don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. 

Mugman finally speaks again, “Do you know who we are?” It’s a loaded question, for sure, but a necessary one. 

Bendy tilts his head, the first cracks of confusion forming, “Yes. You just introduced yourselves. Is there something I’m missing?” It seems Bendy didn’t care for the underground or kept his head out of the papers. It's both good and bad that he doesn’t recognize their names. The positives being the guy not scared all the time and not having a reason to report them to friends or anyone else. Negatives being that the guy wouldn’t know he was living with killers, or even married to them. Positives outweighed the negatives there. 

“Ignore Mugs, Ben. My brother's an odd one,” Cuphead waves the demon off, moving the conversation along before he gets a chance to question them. The cup leans back on the couch now, feeling more in control of the situation than before. 

The demon just looks between them for a moment, lightly scowling at the causal use of his first name. He lets out a sigh then stands up in a quick motion that makes the brothers tense subconsciously. Bendy has turned his back so he doesn’t notice it. Instead he faces the veiled painting on the mantel, privately borrowing strength from the faces of his family. Turning over his shoulder he speaks to them, “Would you like a tour?” 

Cuphead recovers first, standing up with a pat to his knees. He steps close behind Bendy, making the shorter man turn around to keep an eye on him. This lunatic was to be his husband? He was definitely a foot taller, probably more, and was using it to his advantage. Even though he stood several feet away he leaned down to face the demon, smiling widely. It was starting to piss Bendy off. 

The blue porcelain stands up as well, walking up to his brother's side. His curious gaze looks up at the veiled family picture as well. His twin and Bendy seem too busy glaring holes at each other to notice him. This better view allows Mugman to make out the figures, two dogs, a bunny, and Bendy himself. An odd family. The white bunny is very short and is hanging off the larger dog's shoulder, one hand held onto the dog's lapel and the other held out in a waving motion. The brown fat dog himself is giving what looks like a goofy wide smile, his pinprick eyes turned up happily. The younger dog stands directly beside Bendy, his fur is dark and so are his clothes. It’s impossible to pick out details on the young dog due to the shadows being cast and his dark pallor. Though the young dog's hand is held on the demon's shoulder amicably, his hands are large and strong. Military, Bendy said? Makes sense. When Mugman snaps out of it Cuphead and Bendy are already walking out of the parlor and he quickly falls in behind them.

Cuphead wastes no time and indicates the posters lining the hallway with a hand, “So. You perform?”

Bendy nods his head, looking over to where the porcelain points, “Yes I do. I’ve been all over in my years. I play violin, sing, dance, the whole works.” A bit of pride leaks into his tone. His dreams had come true. He was renowned for his talent and beauty, the top of his game. All because of his deal with the Devil, his mind whispered to him, he tried to shake it off. 

From the corner of his eye he sees the red twin nod his head, staying silent otherwise. Bendy sees that Cupheads line of eyesight has caught on a specific poster of his. Before the little devil can stop himself he pauses in the middle of the hallway, nearly causing the red porcelain to trip over him as his attention is elsewhere. Bendy looks up at him through the corner of his eye, “This was only three years ago. I was visiting New Toon City and auditioned for ‘Shall we Dance’ on Broadway for a festival production.” Bendy puts his hand on his chest, staring at the poster with a smile, “I got the lead, of course.” 

Cuphead hums, not really knowing what to say to that. It was truly interesting, he just didn’t understand much of what Bendy just said. I guess living on the run his entire life never gave him time to learn about normal things like what Broadway was, or what the lead of shall we dance was. He could tell it all went over Mugs’ head as well, if his agitated scrunch of his nose indicated anything. The poster itself was pretty though. Bendy and a woman were askew from the center, large words covering half of the poster. They were wearing rollerskates and caught in the middle of a couples dance move, of which Cuphead wouldn’t be able to name with a gun to his head. 

When neither of the twins say anything else Bendy clears his throat awkwardly and steps away. He needed to guard himself better, he was a fool if he thought either of these men cared about him at all. The rest of the tour goes on without a touch of personality, the mundanity almost kills Cuphead to say the least. But he is mostly happy to take in the rooms of his new home, scanning each fully. Most rooms are bland and dark, seemingly unlived in. The twins are sure they’d be covered in dust if not for the staff.

Speaking of staff they inevitably run into them. Bendy explains that just three men work here at the manor. They’d met the head butler, Charley, and the steward, Edgar. One much easier to be around than the other. Edgar waved at them happily with one free hand as the others balanced numerous downy comforters and sheets. Charley follows behind him, holding his clipboard. Wait. That was a completely different clipboard than before, a huge drawing of a pipe on the back of it. Did this guy have more than one clipboard?? My god. They approach Bendy to talk about room assignments, not even bothering to speak to the twins. 

Bendy gives them two rooms right next to each other, and Cuphead guesses far away from Bendy’s own chambers even though they hadn’t seen them yet. The two leave as quickly as they came off to the rooms the demon indicated. A little later on the tour they come into the kitchen and the third and final member of staff is waiting for them, Barley, the demon says. It's an older man with a long white beard. He has a huge bald spot on the top of his head and his age has shrunk him down to be shorter than Bendy. There's a pipe laying on a nearby counter he’d be smoking only if guests weren’t over.

He’s gruff in his demeanor but not nearly as rude as Charley, “Welcome to the manor and all that.” Barley is stirring a large pot up on a stool, it smells pretty good. He turns revealing an eyepatch on his left eye, looking the guests up and down, “I’m the chef here,  so don’t piss me off unless you want food poisonin’ , eh?” He says it as a joke, and the twins give a small crooked smile back. He has a charm that only an older person can, someone who no longer cares about opinions and lives life like he wants. Despite themselves the boys think of their own grandfather. He's had a cool head most of their lives, only cracking when they’d done something especially stupid. 

When Barley starts to step down from the stool he continues to speak, “Anything you want for dinner? Any allergies” He straightens his back with an audible crack as he looks up at the twins.

“No, we’ll be alright with what you serve,” Mugman answers easily, bothering to make eye contact for a short while before going back to his nervous analysis of the room.

“I’m starting to like you both already!” Barley says with a deep chuckle. He turns to Bendy, who is standing right beside him facing the brothers. The chef squeezes Bendy’s shoulder for a brief second, pulling his hand back before his master can shake him off. The demon looks like he wishes Barley could be there the whole tour to continue breaking the blanket of suffocating silence.

Eventually they leave the kitchen after a few more pleasantries, all of which Bendy stays quiet for almost hiding behind his chef. As much as he’s resigned himself to this he can’t be expected to take it on the cheek. The reality of being stuck with these two for the foreseeable future is really ruining his mood. He’d have to drag at least his husband around on tours, that is if he could even go on tours with these people joining his family. He couldn’t see it now but what if Cuphead was controlling, what if he believed just because he and Bendy were married he could control the demon?

It made him nauseous. 

Just who were these men anyway? The day the Devil had come to his home, scorching the ground and drawing fear from Bendy like no other, he said nothing about them. All he said was that Bendy’s time was up but if he wanted to live he could marry a man he now knows as Cuphead. Bendy didn’t have a choice, he knelt on the floor and floundered before accepting. He hadn’t noticed Stickler until he shut his book with a snap, sealing the deal into his records forever. It was like a death knell. 

Still he guided them through his home, a place he used to adore for its safety. Exposing every corner one at a time so he wouldn't be able to hide anywhere anymore. He might as well give it over now, so they can’t take it from him later. Though there's one room, his sewing room, he can’t bring himself to expose just yet and he walks right past it in the tour, hoping they won’t notice. They stay silent behind him but it’s obvious the twins have picked up on the dodged room. Neither of them say anything about it, knowing they’d be back later to check it out themselves. 

Bendy’s quarters are just where they expected, furthest away from their own rooms. The demon walks in just far enough to stand inside of the door, noticeably blocking the twins from entry. Cuphead leans his head in, a little too close to Bendy’s, to see what it looks like. Mugman hangs back in the hallway.

“Nice room here,” Cuphead says, he's not saying it for no reason, the room is extravagant and houses the most color in the whole manor as far as Cuphead is aware. Sun streams in on the far side of the room, reflecting off of the many, many, pieces of gold jewelry on the demon's vanity. It glowed from their neat rows arranged perfectly on racks. The yellow didn’t stop there, the bed sheets a deep sienna color with a gold threaded white canopy. The carpet is a thick brown fur, most likely a bear's pelt. Cuphead turns to Bendy, “Gonna be ours soon though.”

Bendy tenses, his hand clenching the doorknob. He meets the porcelain's eyes, seething underneath his skin. Cuphead can almost feel the heat. Seems Bendy wasn’t just being standoffish, he didn’t like this situation as much as they did. 

“I suppose. But you have your own room for now,” The demon jerks his chin down the hallway in the general direction of the twins' rooms. 

Cuphead taps his fingers along the door frame, internally debating with himself. He glances over at Mugs who turns to face him, and almost sensing his turmoil, gives him a tentative nod. They’re safe enough here it seems to let him pull down his facade at least partially. 

The red porcelain relaxes his face, dropping the menace and replacing it with a calm frown. Bendy looks mildly shocked, his hand dropping to his side as he gazes at his fiance. Cuphead forces himself not to pour sarcasm or humor into his words, coming off as close to nice as he can, “Or I could just stay in my own room. I’d prefer to be near Mugs anyway.”

It's an olive branch that hangs between them. Bendy doesn’t seem to know what to say, the hot anger sizzling out. He hated these men, but if they were respecting his space? He could learn to live with them. Bendy nods his head, “I’d like that.” 

Cuphead pulls away from the door and walks back into the hallway, waving over his shoulder, “Alright, it’s settled then. Guess we’ll be seeing you at dinner.”

Mugs immediately starts off back to where their rooms are,  turning only to give his own goodbye, “Thank you for the tour Mr. Darling. I hope we will make good guests.” He leaves out the fact that in a day's time they’ll be in-laws as well. He had always been a little distant in the early days of the new marriage. He came eventually though.

The demon watched them walk away, Cups could feel his eyes on his back. He hadn’t yet accustomed himself to these halls yet though and kept his eyes forward. Until a faint voice breaks the calm.

“Cuphead?” It's Bendy. Cuphead turns without thinking, looking for the source. 

Something has replaced Bendy in his bedroom doorway, a figure of fear, of despair. It’s his husband, a deep frown pulling his face down. His eyes are dark and glazed with tears. And Bendy stands there gaping at him, a horrible moaning noise falling out of his mouth. 

The red porcelain stumbles back with a shout, tripping over his own feet. He expects the hard ground, feels himself tense as he gets closer.

Only to wake up in his bed. He’s covered in a cold sweat, his hand clenching the sheet in front of his face. His bony hand that clattered against itself with the motion. This isn’t the bed he’s gotten used to, is the second thing he realizes. There's no warmth behind him, not that anything felt warm anymore, and the blanket over him is threadbare and blue. Something Bendy would never have put on their bed. That is followed by another thought, He wasn’t with Bendy now. And another; that he was dead. That he’d been dead for weeks. Or however long, time was weird here he’d found. 

Sucking in a breath that he didn’t need anymore, he sat up in bed. His body moved in parts like he wasn’t well put together anymore, like a puppet that moves with his head. Still he can sit on the side of the bed easily enough, stretching his skeletal arms out for easier movement. He feels every exposed muscle extend in his legs as he points them out. He feels no pain but a phantom ache consumes his body that makes him feel way older than he is. 

Something clinks against his ribcage, tangling along his top rib in a knot. Right over where his heart used to be. Cuphead doesn’t look down at it, doesn’t need to, It’s a simple gold ring hung on a mismatched silver chain. His ring. The thing has gotten into the annoying habit of trapping itself in his top left rib, tugging on it uncomfortably at every neck movement. 

He sits there for a moment staring ahead at the wall in front of him. It’s wooden with a dark stain that helps to hide its age. Cuphead and his family had found it soon after him and Mugman had escaped into limbo from hell. It was a formerly abandoned residence, assumedly belonging to a former lost soul in limbo. They had either moved on literally or physically, leaving almost everything in the house. It was a cabin, built by hand by its asymmetrical log walls and specific floor plan. From the outside the place looked like a huge puzzle piece with rooms poking out of the central living room. It was an eyesore but a good roof nonetheless. Only one floor so Elder Kettle didn’t have to struggle with stairs for which the older man was silently grateful for, though he didn’t like bringing up his age in a debilitating way like that. But there weren’t enough rooms for the entire family; Chalice, who had been down here a few times before due to her precarious balance of life and death, had a couple places to stay and didn’t live with them for now. 

Cobwebs hung in most corners, staying even after numerous dustings. Most places down here struggled to feel homey- most places looked rotted even though people lived in them. And this place was stuffy, it lacked windows in half the rooms. Cuphead was staying in one of those rooms. If he hadn’t been adjusted to the dark he wouldn’t be seeing much of anything. Not that his room has much. There wasn’t even much of a mess, a staple for every place he’d ever lived in. A small smile crosses his face when he remembers Bendy nearly tearing his horns off when he saw Cups' room in his tidy manor. It was definitely worth the cleaning he had to do under the demon's watchful eye with Edgar. The porcelain tries to shake the memory away but the necklace he briefly forgot about pulls his neck into place.

With partial annoyance he untangles the ring with care, the chain bouncing on his finger and pulling the ring along. It made small ringing noises from metal on metal. Finally he unhooked it and held the golden ring in his palm. Cuphead looked at it mournfully, he longed for its other half. He dragged the hold along his skeletal hands, eliciting a hollow scratching noise. It was nice to fill up the silence.

It’s only a few minutes before he hears footsteps approaching his door. In one fluid motion the door is grabbed and forced open.

“Cuphead! It’s time to wake up-“ Mugman speaks into the dark room, assuming his brother is still asleep. But much has changed about his brother in the short time he had married Bendy, even more after their demise. Cuphead just stares at him from the side of his bed. His thoughtful expression is covered with a wide grin.

“Morning Mugs!” He says back with a cheeriness unwarranted this early in the morning. Still his fingers move the ring around in his palm. 

Mugman stares at him for a long moment, one hand on the door and the other on the door frame. From behind Mugs the warm light of the house highlights him, leaking into the room. It makes him look angelic and hides the imperfections in his form for a second. Mugman is wearing a beautiful white suit made of merino wool and lined with silk. In certain lighting it was a very light blue so that his stark white lace gloves could stand out. The penultimate of this assembly was the long chapel veil that just barely grazed the floor. Right now his blue bouquet of foxglove, bluebells, lobelias, and forget-me-nots is looped into his belt, hanging near his left side. It was magnificent and made Cuphead happy to see his brother in such a nice outfit. That was until he was reminded why he had to wear it everyday. 

Seeing his brother dead was worse than how he felt waking up in hell that very first time. With that grim thought he stands up from his bed, walking over to his brother. Mugman leans out of his twin's way, pulling himself backwards into the hallway as Cups leaves without another second wasted. Though his intricately woven web veil curls around his brother's moving form, the fabric is so light it stays floating behind Mugs for a short time. The red porcelain doesn’t notice it- his skeletal body lacking the ability to feel the slight fabric or have it catch on his body. 

Mugman steps behind him, following his shambling brother. Cuphead hadn’t been so lucky as to die as beautifully as his brother. His right shin bone was contorted along his leg, making him walk with a huge limp; a hollow wet pop every time he took a step. It shifted his muscles and skin on his leg disgustingly, bending the top of his simple brown shoe. That fateful day he went out to track down his brother's murderer; he snuck out, taking the first clothes he could find on his way out. It ended up being brown striped shorts and a loose red button, of which he now leaves unbuttoned for ease- his chest lined with suspenders instead. On top of his cracked head a red banded bowler hat with a diamond pin rests. He had taken it with him from the front door coatrack, it wasn’t even his, which was evidenced by its tight fit and holes for horns. It stood out from the rest of his outfit due to how well Cuphead kept it. Unlike the multicolored patches on his clothes the hat was sewn with black thread with care. 

They made quite a pair down here. For the first time they had to tell people they were twins. It was weird. Death was weird. Sad. 

“Whats on the agenda today, Mugs?” Cuphead asks as they walk through the family room. No Elder Kettle in sight, he must still be asleep. 

“We’re heading to the bar, remember? Chalice is gonna meet us,” Mugman answers, now taking his bouquet into his hand. Since he died he developed the habit to keep it on him, sometimes even squeezing it when he gets stressed. Mugs tilts his head as he talks, eyeing a nearby wall, “It’ll be nice just spending time with her now that it seems we finally got the Devil off our trail.” 

They both stop in the middle of the hallway when they hear a sudden shout, “Where do you punks think you’re going this early!?” Elder Kettle comes out of his room, his cane tapping against the ground. He has a playful scowl on his face when he approaches the boys. 

Cuphead smirks quickly playing into it, “Why, Pops, we found a Casino down here. We’re off to be up to no good!” The porcelain puts his hand to his ribs, puffing it out for show. Mugman rolls his eyes, and smiles.

Elder Kettle scoffs and drops the pretend menace entirely, “Oh hush! Scaring me for no good reason.” He picks his cane up and taps Cuphead's good ankle as a reprimand. Their gramps was just the same as always, give or take a couple organs and limbs. In death he kept most of his body except his left arm, which was twisted off in his moments before death. Same with the slit on his stomach. It still disturbed the twins when they paid it too much attention. 

Mugman lets out a giggle before joining in himself, “I solemnly swear to keep this chuckle head out of trouble, Pops.” Cuphead shoves his shoulder in response, jostling his brother's bouquet. That wipes Mugs’ smile right off and he pouts at his brother, shoving him right back.

Elder Kettle sighs as his boys start to childishly pick at each other, you’d have thought they would have grown out of it by now. “Boys! No fighting under my damn roof, y’hear?” He starts using his cane to push them apart. “Now go on, git! Kettles got a soap opera to watch and I don’t need your noise pollution!”

“Yes Elder Kettle…” The Twins say in unison drawing out their words, smiling warmly at their grandfather. They’d really missed this feeling. Sure living with Bendy was amazing, everything he could want, but it never felt complete after Mugman left to go home to Kettle. Growing up as a set made being apart feel like they were missing a limb. Death was awful but, in some ways, they got to be kids again. Live together one last time. It was bittersweet. 

Elder kettle smiles back, looking like he feels that double-edged sword of nostalgia. He never understood those old people with way too many pets until both his boys left for the Darling residence. Kettle had caved and even went to a pound looking for some sorry mutt to bring home after only a week. He hoped the little guy was alright. Spike wasn’t as big and tough as he first seemed, after all. Without any more preamble the kettle flops down on the couch in the middle of the family room, fiddling with a remote, “Bring me a bottle back or something- apparently this season’s a tearjerker.” 

After a few more goodbyes and jokes thrown back and forth the twins leave. The forest around them is dark, like everything is around limbo. Every tree is dead but not dry so rotten roots and vines litter everything. It’s extremely hard to find this House in the Leaves if you didn’t know where it was in the first place. They’re lucky Chalice had it as a ‘treehouse’ back when she could visit down here in life. 

Limbo wasn’t the best place honestly, almost everything was dark and grim. But it wasn’t the worst. They’d seen the worst, been in it for a month before they finally managed to claw their way out. Having a whole life fearing hell hadn’t even prepared them for the agony of it in reality. You could barely think, and lesser men would have given up. But fighting back was all Cuphead and Mugman knew, and it helped them out into Limbo. The Devil didn’t have jurisdiction to reach them here, but they knew he’d find some way to get them soon. But Cuphead isn’t too worried about it.

Their cabin was three miles from a town which bustled with life, or the lack of it, at all hours. Most undead didn’t see a point in rest and stayed up to party or read or craft, whatever they wanted. It made having neighbours, if you were one of the undead who still liked sleep, annoying. This wasn’t bad for the twins though, it meant every business was open whenever and they didn’t really need to time meetings, just show up and you’ll eventually be joined. They walk up to the Ball and Socket Pub and through the front door without stopping. There's a roar of greeting from the patrons, them already having gotten used to the new porcelains in town. They don’t even have to be as paranoid down here as they were in life, they weren’t anything more than fellow dead souls to these people.

Right near the entrance two mice are sitting around a large machine. Its innards are strung across the table and the shorter mouse is digging through it. They were identical lab coats, but the lankier one has numerous stains on his. Pinky and Brain, if Cuphead remembers correctly. The Brain is covered in wires and oil, scowling down at the thing like it was personally responsible for his misery. It probably was, it seemed like a piece of junk considering they were messing with it every time the twins came in. The lankier mouse sat beside The Brain, arms full of gears and tools, and gazing dumbly at his partner. 

Both looked up when the front door opened, the only ones close enough to hear it through the bustle. Pinky drops all the things in his hand to wave with both hands at the porcelains, “Heya, Friends!” The Brain startles and growls at the loud sound of metal falling.

“Hello, Pinky,” Mugman says, waving back. They had spoken to them a couple times now, there wasn’t really much else to do. The Brain wasn’t the best company but Pinky often made up for it. Both of them were electrocuted to death, evidenced by their constant parking and burnt fur.

The Brain sighs and decides to himself that yelling at Pinky wasn’t worth his energy right now especially because he’s sure the bartender is just looking for an excuse to throw him out. This was the only place Pinky would be able to keep himself entertained while he worked, Alright?

“You alright there, Brian?” Cuphead asks with a shit-eating grin. 

The Brain glances at him with a scathing  glare, “Just Peachy.” The damn porcelain has been corrected close to a hundred times by now, no point in yelling at him again.

Cuphead sends fingers in his direction before going further into the bar with Mugman. It's crowded as always, people lining tables just to talk or play cards. The twins have to weave in between the tables, Mugman's veil catching on every other person. Not really paying attention, Cuphead shambles forward on his right foot but has to stop short as someone flies right past him. It's quick enough the Mugman's veil flies back with the wind and lands on the man he just pulled it off of, again. 

Rearing back to see the culprit, though he already has an idea, he nearly hits his brother. The snickering form of Ben Drowned hovers above a table a few feet away. God, he hated this kid, tragic backstory aside. “Ey! Pissant watch where you’re flying!” He shouts, refraining from shaking his fist at the figure as much as he wants to.

“You’re face! Ha!” Ben says in between his evil chuckles, glancing over Cuphead's shoulder though… “Eek!” The boy disappears into thin air. Turning over his shoulder Cuphead sees his source of fear, Mugman is nearly steaming and had been sending a dark look at Ben. Now the fury had mostly drained out of him and he gestures Cuphead on.

“Geez, you bullying kids now, Mugs?” Cuphead said, walking forward as his brother indicated. They’re close to the bar now, thank god, you can only trip into so many people before you get tired of it.

“No, just teaching them lessons. Ben’s gonna meet someone who doesn’t take to his jokes as well as I do,” Mugman says back, though Cuphead had been pulling his leg he was entirely serious as he spoke. Cups nodded his head, Mugs was right. Under his breath Mugman continues, “Based on where we are, I'm inclined to believe he already met that person.”

Yeah. Dying sucked, bad. Cuphead tries to lighten the mood, “He must’ve not learned his lesson then, that punks always pulling something. Probably died setting up a prank or something.” He bumped his shoulder into his brothers. Mugs gives him a small smile, I’m alright.

“I wondered when you’d show up today,” Calls a voice from behind the bar, exasperation barely hidden. Cuphead stumbles his last step forward and sits down on one of the barstools, facing the bartender with a smile. 

“Oh, good morning to you too, Zooble,” Cuphead even tips his  bowler hat at them, playing at being a gentleman. Zooble just rolls their eyes, wiping a beer glass clean with a red cloth. Mugman comes up behind Cuphead still standing.

“We’re here to meet Chalice, have you seen her?” 

“Nah, not today,” Zooble answers, setting the glass down and picking up another. “You’re welcome to stay and chat with me until she comes, though.”

“Sounds good to me,” Cuphead says, gesturing to his brother to come sit beside him. The blue porcelain does, lowering himself onto the seat slowly. Cuphead nods to Zooble, "How's it been since we last saw you?”

Sitting at the bar beside Cuphead, Mugs flicks his head in a way that accidentally drapes his veil over his brother's lap. He can’t help it, the whole thing is unruly. Before it can slip off his knees he grabs it between his thumb and the rest of his fingers. His brother doesn’t notice the slight motion looking around and waiting for Chalice, keeping up their end of the conversation with Zooble. But Cuphead felt himself sinking into his own head. It was something he only really started to do in death. He was never a person to fixate on the past, ever. But now it seems like it's the only thing he can do. He’d feel annoyed with himself if it wasn’t for the fact that it allowed him to see Bendy everyday. Even if it was only his memories it kept a smile on his face for when he had to be without him. 

He felt himself being pulled back to a memory, and he sighed as his mind pulled him back.

Sun streams through the windows, catching on hanging stain glass along the panes. It was something the couple had hung up a couple weeks in. Every frame brings in more color to the dark interior of the manor. It worked well, lighting up the floors of every room with constantly dancing colors. Some of which were spinning over the Darlings. They sat together in the parlor leaning over music sheets. When Bendy found out Cuphead could play the piano, only five days after their wedding, that truly started their connection. From there they only grew closer. Music and performance was Bendy’s one true love after all, but Cuphead was becoming a close second it seemed. Or at least that’s what the porcelain hoped. If it helped him endear himself to Bendy he doesn’t mind learning more about music. 

And it did. Bendy lit up every time it was so much as referenced. Listening to the demon go on and on about his shows was the quietest Cuphead had ever been in his life, taking in the information completely. That’s what was happening right about now he believes.

“See, this was the score for Singing in the Rain,” Bendy indicates the top paper with a claw. “But it was scrapped right after my last show with them. Nothing to do with me though, I'm sure. I wish I could’ve sung the new score! Apparently it's a huge improvement.”

“Mhm,” Cuphead answers, simple. He wasn’t as clueless as he was before he married Bendy but he had to really listen so it didn’t go right over his head. The porcelain picks up a sheet idly, examining the notes. His husband was trying to teach him how to read music, it was an easier thing to learn than language after all. From what Cuphead understood the score did look a little clunky, “I bet after you left they had to improve the show just so people would keep watching after the star left.” 

“Oh ha ha, Cuphead,” Bendy scoffs but looks pleased at the compliment. Today he’s wearing his gold. It was something Bendy had refrained from for a period, not wanting to display any personality. But now he decks himself out in rings and necklaces everyday. Cuphead has yet to see a repeat. All except for the golden ring inlaid with an emerald cut red diamond on his ring finger.

“What’s funny? I ain’t playing here, Bends,” Cuphead says back, giving Bendy a serious look that cracked with humor at the edges.

Bendy stares right back, something that's become less and less hostile over time, “ Hm. Sure you’re not being a fool? It’s only your favorite thing to do.”

The sheet of music is sat back down on top of the pile so Cuphead can dramatically cross his heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die! I wouldn’t lie about such things, sugar-pie,” Its hammy but the laugh it elicits is well worth the theatrics. Wow, Bendy really was rubbing off on him if he was enjoying theatre. 

“Whatever you say, Honey bunch,” Bendy fires back, turning away with a warm smile, belatedly trying to hide it. The demon tries to look busy reaching for the next paper but Cuphead moves without thinking, grabbing the hand in his.

Bendy turns to him, not dropping his smile but lowering it slightly in curiosity. They weren’t necessarily a couple who did lots of… contact, due to the fact they were forced together. Hell, they still slept in separate rooms, their feelings were still budding at this time. Cuphead starts to sweat, really what was he thinking? But he couldn’t take it back now. The porcelain squeezed the demon's hand, it was smaller than his, softer. But the claws were sharp, way longer than his nails. Trying to push out some other genius idea, Cuphead nods his head towards the door, “Want me to play the old one for ya? Maybe we can figure out an even better sound than the dopes on Broadway.”

Rolling his eyes, Bendy looks like he has something to say about those ‘dopes on broadway’ but keeps his mouth shut. There's a pause as the demon looks down at their connected hands, then he looks back up sending a small squeeze right back. It's an amazing feeling. Dropping his grin Cuphead gives Bendy a much smaller true smile. 

“I’d like that, Cuphead,” Bendy says, very quietly. The demon stares at him, his gaze tracing over Cuphead's face. The expression is too unfamiliar to the porcelain for him to understand it but its warmth makes him loosen his shoulders and stare right back.

Cuphead stands up, leading Bendy up by their conjoined hands. This day was going way better then what he anticipated.Elder Kettle needed Mugman home for something, Gramps getting a dog he thinks? When Mugs had left this morning he felt nervous, even though it was just a short trip he wanted to be there to make sure he was safe. It was irrational, he knew, but it didn’t make him stop. So he thought the whole day would be like that moment, constant paranoia. And it was in some ways, sometimes the emptiness at his side would nag at him. But as he spent time with Bendy those nauseating moments slowly died out, the demon wasn’t even trying to comfort him. He had just collected him from the front door and started on their music reading lesson, it was something Bendy took very seriously, no moping would stop him. 

They headed down the hallway side by side, taking the walk slowly so they had more time to talk.

“So when was this? You said 7 years ago?” Cuphead starts, circling back to their initial conversation. He has a cheeky grin when he opens his mouth next, “Sure you won’t be too rusty?”

“I don’t rust,” Bendy says simply, holding his head high with a smirk. Cuphead was discovering that banter when the other side wasn’t exasperated easily was so much fun. He loved his brother but for Mugs it was hard for him to endure so many jokes in a row, especially in the later years. They were both scared but the burden hung more heavy on his brother. It made banter feel more like an actual argument sometimes.

“Then I'm ready for you to blow my socks off,” the porcelain began, swinging their conjoined hands playfully, “Lets hope it doesn’t disappoint, eh?”

“If anything will disappoint it’ll be your rudimentary piano skills,” Bendy fires back, going along with the hand swing a little less enthusiastically. He was only playing of course, what Cuphead lacked in technical knowledge he made up for in raw talent. 

“I’ll play circles around you, old man,” Cuphead says back, drawing out the name teasingly. When he found out Bendy was a couple years older than him it had been his favorite way to pick at him. Mainly because it mildly irritated Bendy. Speaking of, Bendy gives him a mean side eye, before he gives him a sharp elbow to the side.

Cuphead splutters, stumbling back a step, before the noise turns into a chuckle. The whole time their hands stay entwined, even tightening when Cuphead gets shoved. Bendy says, “That's no way to speak to your husband, is it?”

That hits the Porcelain in a much higher place than his gut and elicits a warm feeling. Cupheads eyes widened a little, that's new. Belonging to someone had never sounded good to him. It felt possessive and his entire life all he wanted was to be his own man. That he could be in control of himself and not underneath the Devil. But now… He didn’t know yet. Something changed, though.

Cuphead takes a large step forward, turning on his heel and walking backwards. He holds their hands up between them as he speaks, “Guess I’ll learn better soon.”

“Learn?” Bendy says, searching, leaning his head down a little to curb his smile. He watched Cuphead.

He wants so badly to back away from this moment, distance himself with comedy. Say something like, ‘learn to play piano better of course!’ But… he knew Bendy didn’t want a trick at this moment, He could tell. Cuphead wanted to keep that look in his eye, that warmth in his smile, and that overpowered that part of him that needed that comedic deflection. Cuphead bows his head, “Learn how to speak to my husband.” He says it sickeningly sweet, god, he felt like one of those sappy couples he’d laugh at on the street when he was a kid. 

But it gets him what he wants, Bendy lets out a chuckle and turns his head into his shoulder, smiling. Cuphead gives Bendy’s cheek a dopey smile before he can think, then quickly swipes it off before the demon can see. But it seems Bendy’s eye has caught something outside, his laughter dying out. The demon walks himself closer to cuphead by pulling himself with their connection, He’s a step away but not facing Cuphead. His eyes are still out the window, the whole time the porcelain is staring at a nearby wall, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. 

Why’d he compare himself to a couple? He didn’t feel stuff like that. But what else could it be? He felt this…”Cups?”  affection. Affection he’d never felt before, something deeper than respect or admiration. Similar but entirely different to what he felt around his family. “Hey.” It was small now, but he could feel it grow every moment around Bendy. It should feel uncomfortable, maybe even gross. His body has been taken over by some unknown thing, and he can’t stop it. “Cups!” But he doesn’t feel bad, at all. It’s actually the opposite- No it wasn’t something missing, it wasn’t a hole, wasn’t a need to him ever before- but now a place has grown for it, deep inside his heart. Could he actually be… 

“Cuphead!” Bendy shouts, finally snapping his husband out of whatever place he’d gone in his head. Cuphead looks down at the demon, so close to him he just realizes, trying to process what he’d just been thinking. In this confusion their hands had stayed together even as Bendy started to get annoyed with his silence. Cuphead squeezes the demon's hand stupidly checking if it was still there, Bendy squeezes right back, “What’s wrong with you?”

Why had Bendy been shouting? Was there some sort of threat, did he seem scared? He worried over it, was this what Mugman felt like all the time? He can feel his face screwed up into something upset, he hated that. Cuphead doesn’t notice that he didn’t answer Bendy’s question, frowning deeply,”Is there something going on?” He doesn't grab Bendy with his other hand but it's a very close thing.

Bendy lets it slide with a sigh, indicating his head out of the window, “Your brother's home.” It's said solemnly, not with the neutrality you’d expect from the comment. 

It doesn’t process for Cuphead for a moment, his eyes drifting to stare off in the middle distance again. He answers absently, “Is that right.” Bendy was wearing a dress today, It didn’t really surprise him that Bendy would own dresses. It's a dark green floor-length gown, covered in spirals. It’s pretty. It's only after he replays the words does he hear them. 

Bendy is glaring up at him when his vision unblurs for a second time. He looks out the window, about to ask a question that he quickly forgets when he sees why Bendy was acting this way.

Mugman is a block away from the house, walking briskly with his hands at his sides. Cuphead can’t entirely make out his expression but the hunch in his shoulders shows how upset he is on its own. It seems even Bendy can see it. He’ll be at the front door soon. Cuphead lets go of Bendy’s hand, looking down at him with a pasted smile, he needs to go be with Mugman. He opens his mouth to make some sort of joke, using it to thinly veil him asking to leave but Bendy beats him to it.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me,” He says, walking past Cuphead without another word. Cuphead only has a second to be glad that Bendy let him go so easily, and slightly marvel that he did, before he speed walks over to the front door.

Edgar is reaching up to open it when the porcelain gets there, Mugs must have just knocked. The spider squeaks a hello to Cups but the other is too focused on his brother to do anything but a smile. He mumbles something to the little guy, “Edgar I’ll get this, ok?” And it's all the warning Edgar gets before Cuphead ushers him away from the door and opens it himself.

The door is only slightly open when it’s pushed harshly from the outside, the man outside forcing himself in. It would’ve knocked Edgar over if he had been the one standing there. There's an awful noise coming from his brother, his breaths coming out quickly and overlapping dangerously. Sobs are being swallowed as well, only making it harder for Mugman to breathe. Cups immediately lets the door go and wraps his right arm around his twin's back. Using his left one to cross over his brother's face, pulling him in to clink their heads together. It was something they’d done for comfort since they were kids.

“C’mon lets go, Mugs,” Cuphead whispers to his brother, walking him towards the stairs. In the manor they were hidden around a corner rather than just in the foyer. Mugman goes with a fight, snuffling and unable to say anything. Cuphead speaks again, soft as he clinks their head again, “You’re gonna be alright. Just breathe.” 

They moved in sync through the house, no staff in sight, not that they would really care. Thinking on it Cupheads a stone drops in his stomach, where had Mugman been today? “Mugs, It’s not- Elder Kettle is he alright? Chalice?”

There's a horrifying second where Mugman doesn’t answer, but after a heave his twin shakes his head no. Cuphead shivers as he lets out a breath, thank god. He’s quiet the rest of the short walk to his own room, periodically rubbing his brothers back or clinking their heads. 

When they arrive in the room Cuphead sets him down on his chaise longue, leading him to rest on his back and lay across the whole thing. He takes his brother's boots and lets them fall to the floor with a thud. When he sees that Mugman has settled marginally he turns back to his door, shutting and locking it in a fluid motion. On his way back he kicks some of his dirty clothes underneath his bed, his eyes never leaving his brother. In this short period Mugman has already turned into the back of the longue, leaning against its side so he was slanted up. The lip on the back worked as a good block to the rest of the world as he cried. Cuphead comes over to sit right behind his back, close enough to touch his own to his brothers shaking back. He sat with his hands on his knees and waited for his brother to catch his breath. He stood guard against the rest of his room, focused on the door. 

Less than a minute later his brother finally lets out a breath not burdened by a sob and Cuphead leans his head to the side, silently offering to be a listening ear. Mugman doesn’t see it, face deep in the corner between the long backing and the short backing, but he feels his brother shift towards him. 

“What happened?” Cuphead asks, quiet like he’s trying to keep Mugs calm. 

There's a sniff from Mugman, his tears mostly dry. He looked more embarrassed now, hiding his face from his brother. Cuphead knew he loathed feeling pathetic, knew that he felt helpless when he was this upset. That he only got this unhappy when he was mad first and it turned sour as the stress got worse. That’s why he needed to be careful. 

“It’s nothing,” Mugs starts, his voice hoarse. He swallows thickly trying to fix it before he finishes his answer, “I’m being hysterical. It’s nothing, Cups.”

Cuphead didn’t buy it for a second, turning fully to face the back of his brother's head. His knee came up as he twisted, laying behind Mugman at the top of his back. The red twin puts his right hand on his brother’s shoulder. Cups has to think before he finds his words, “You’re not crazy for feeling things like this, Mugs. It isn’t nothing, tell me what happened.”

He can hear Mugman contemplating inside his head, and Cuphead waits watching the small motion of Mugman's breathing. There's an intake of breath and Cuphead stands to attention, his entire focus on his brother. He barely hears it, “I wasn’t at Pops’ place today. I lied. He got that dog yesterday, and called me to tell me about it. I just used it as an excuse.”

He pauses and the silence is tense. It wasn’t often they lied to each other. Growing up how they did keeping things from the other often was life and death. Even things like where someone was could end badly, if the other went missing while out they’d have the wrong start of the search. It was safer that they knew everything about each other. So this was extremely odd. Cuphead hums, encouraging his brother to continue.

Mugman was tense, like he was bracing himself for his own words. It only made Cuphead grasp him tighter. Mugman is louder this time, “I was on a date.”

“A date?” Cuphead asks, unable to stop himself. He’s not sure if he should feel happy that Mugman was sticking himself out there like that or shocked. The whole point of Cuphead getting this arranged marriage first was to allow Mugman time for love, actual love. To see him trying for it was amazing. Until he connects that this date must be the source of this. Goddamnit. 

“Yeah. Some girl,” Mugman continues, quiet again due to Cuphead's outburst. “It was a blind date- I know, I know! Alright,” He’s already responding to his brothers ‘disappointment,’ expecting it like it was sure fire. 

“Alright. That’s good, what happened then,” Cuphead reassures. His brother’s not gonna be ashamed of this, he’s making sure of it. He’d circle back to it at a later time because he needs to know what happened. 

“I thought,” He cuts himself off to catch his breath, tears welling up again. He swallows them down and continues, “It was a nice date. I thought. It wasn’t the best, but I thought it was ok. She was fine. It was fine. But at the end…” Mugs buries his head deeper and Cuphead leans in to make sure he hears the next part, “She told me that I was awful, horrible. That she hoped I wouldn’t find anyone. I have no idea where it came from.”

Cuphead feels rage boil inside of him, he even feels himself begin to steam. What do you even say to that? He leaned down to rest his head on his brother's shoulder, right on top of his hand. His voice is low, “You know that's not right.”

“Do I?” Mugman's voice is closer now, easier to hear. It only brings the wave of emotions quicker. Mugman sounds bitter.

“I do. You should.” Cuphead says, direct and steady. He keeps himself from mumbling it into his brother's shoulder by moving back again, giving him space. He continues clearer, “ You’re the best person I’ve ever met, Mugsy. Someone's gonna see that. That moron doesn’t know anything about you, right?”

He shakes Mugs when he doesn’t answer, holding his shoulder tight. Mugs answers back, sounding like he really didn’t want to, “She doesn’t”

Cuphead nods his head, releasing some of the pressure. “And I do. I know that you’re smart, and you’re tough. I know even more that you don’t want that to be where ‘you’ stops,” Cuphead swallows, you got this, Cups, “You care and that is the largest part of you. The person who likes romance novels and the person who protects people when they can. And you feel things so deeply. That’s you. And someone who’d write you off after a first impression, doesn't deserve you.” 

Mugman is silent for a while, and Cuphead waits. Finally Mugman speaks, “Thank you Cuphead.” Monotone. It just serves to worry Cups more. If he can’t get through to him, he doubts anyone could. Cuphead leans away, sitting with his elbows on his knees. 

Neither hear the scuttling from the vent right above them at that point as someone escapes back into the house. Mugman eventually gets up and they move to sit on Cuphead's messy bed, it hadn’t been made since he arrived. Mugman would have scolded him if this was a normal evening, but nothing comes out as they sit across from each other. Cups talks to him for a long time, telling his brother about everything he can think of, Mugman nods along and answers but his heart isn’t in it. He didn’t want to leave him, he knew how quickly Mugs could spiral if left on his lonesome. He just needed to be sat with but a silent Cuphead would only serve as a reminder of his situation, Cups needed to be normal for him. 

“Hey Mugs?” Cuphead says after he trails off his last sentence, something about fish or what he ate this morning; unimportant. His brother looks up, tilting his head in question. Cuphead sends him a smile, “I’m gonna go get a board game, alright? I’m gonna leave a record on, I’ll be right back.” He gives Mugman a big smile and his brother gives him a small one back.

“I’ll be alright Cuphead,” Mugman says, and then nobly tries for comedy. “I’m just porcelain, I'm not that fragile,” It's clumsy but a joke nonetheless, it's him reaching out to Cuphead, showing him it really is alright. It makes the red twin not feel so bad leaving him alone here for a couple of minutes.

“Ok then,” Cuphead says, vaulting backwards off the bed dramatically, he catches himself in a handspring only barely. Standing up he gives a bow. The whole thing makes Mugman let out a laugh, a real one, he even hears him mumble ‘idiot.’ See, Mugs was almost better already! Suck it, random blind date girl. Cuphead comes up to his record player, something his room had just come with when he arrived, and shuffled through his loose records. He probably should put them back into their covers but… it was better to have them out like this, organized his way. He picks up a well-loved one, twirling it between his fingers, “Check it out Mugsy! It’s ‘The daring Young man on the trapeze’! Ain’t this your favorite?”

He says it just to pick at his brother lightly, they both knew that this was Cuphead's favorite. The groan Mugman lets out is warranted and Cups lets out a devious chuckle. Mugs complains, “When we were kids you listened to this 30 times a day. I think you’ll kill me if you play it again.” 

“Ooooo, can’t hear you over the best record ever!” Cuphead mocks, spinning the record into place and starting it up. The horn plays it softly and he turns it up a little so Mugs can hear it clearly from the bed. He walks over to his door, shoving on his boots as he walks over, “Anything else you want while I’m out?’

His twin tilts his head in thought, then snaps his fingers, “Could you get me a book? Just pick whichever one has the most interesting cover, It doesn’t really matter what it is.” His brother looked tired, and his jumpsuit was getting wrinkled as he had been laying on it for some time. Disheveld wasn’t a word you could often call his brother, but it applied now.

“Aye aye, Mugsy. See ya soon.” Cuphead gives a goody salute which makes Mugs roll his eyes. Nevertheless, he received one back, much more serious than his own. Maybe if he’s quick enough he’d be back before the song ended.

Cuphead leaves the room, shutting the door quietly before jogging down the hallway to find a game of checkers he knows is in the game room. The halls are darker now, the sun setting outside. He knew his way, he had prowled around the whole house in the dark, making sure he knew where everything was. Home field advantage and all that if any sorry son of a tried to break in. He's basically on autopilot. Which is why he nearly runs Bendy over. Stumbling around the demon a little too late he bumps into his spouse's shoulder.

Bendy just looks shocked to see him, not even annoyed at the near collision, “Cuphead what are you doing running around?” 

Cuphead didn’t really have time for a conversation, he nods at Bendy, “Just getting some stuff for Mugs.” With that he takes off again jogging down the hall. It's only when he feels the skirts of Bendy’s dress along his ankles does he realize Bendy was following after him, holding his skirts up in one hand.

The demon was keeping pace with him, moving his legs just a little quicker than Cups, he looked unsure. It seems his feet had taken off before he could think about it. Bendy isn’t looking at Cuphead when the porcelain looks over at him, likely embarrassed. 

They come across the game room before Cuphead can even form a question and he skids inside. Bendy, who hadn’t known the destination, jogs a couple of paces away from the door before turning around and coming inside. He drops his skirts as he walks in. Neither of them are out of breath. Bendy speaks first, “Are you looking for a board game?”

The porcelain is already folding the fabric board up, holding the pieces precariously inside. He remembers to answer, “Yeah, just getting checkers.” It’s the least filler he’s used around Bendy, nothing to fluff up the sentence, no jokes. He can tell he’s freaking out the demon, he didn’t really care.

“Is your brother alright?” Bendy asks the big question, standing a meter behind his husband. It doesn’t sound fully like care or concern, they weren’t close enough for that yet. But it was an honest question, Bendy wasn’t just asking to ask, he wanted to know. 

It makes the porcelain pause for a second, before finishing his makeshift wrap and finally turning to face Bendy. The demon was standing with his hands folded, giving him an open expression. Cuphead answers after a pause where he nodded his head back and forth, thinking, “He’ll be ok. It was just some dick with an unwanted opinion.”

Bendy nods, “That's good then.” Cuphead hums back and walks past him, heading back to his room. Bendy follows him for reasons unknown, again. With the way he folded it up, the checkers were liable to fall out if he did anything faster than a brisk walk. So he was stuck walking. Didn’t explain why Bendy was following him. 

The demon speaks again, “Will you be coming for dinner tonight?” What was he doing? What was he saying? Why did he care? These grim thoughts filled his head quickly, worry really killed his mood, jeez what was wrong with him. Bendy has a right to ask questions, they were married after all. Something about being together in good times and in bad. And it was technically his house, even more technically theirs but oh well. 

Cuphead adjusts his hold on the checker game before answering, trying to muster up a smile, “Eh. I’ll probably be there, won’t stay long. But Mugs isn’t gonna come out until at least tomorrow afternoon.” More like Cuphead wasn’t going to let him out of his sight until he was sure his twin was fine, but Bendy didn't need to know that. That paranoid from when Mugs left earlier today, that he had almost banished, was coming back full force now. It took a lot not to snap at Bendy. 

They’re almost to the room when Cuphead suddenly freezes and grabs his head with a groan. He’d forgotten to get Mugs his book, damn it. And he’d need it for when Cups went off to dinner. And it was in the room right beside the game room, he was going to have an aneurysm. He turns on his heel and starts back down the hallway. Bendy startles then quickly follows behind.

The demon shoots him a worried look, “Where are you going?-”

“The library, ok! Can you-” Cuphead stops himself before he can get rude, his steps are falling heavier than he intends them to. He doesn’t even need to glance at Bendy to see his annoyed expression. Cuphead lets out a heavy sigh, keeping up his pace, “Mugs wants a book, I forgot it.” He gestures ahead vaguely towards the library. 

Bendy answers quickly, a little too quick. “I’ll go get him one, you just head back,” Bendy says, putting a hand on Cupheads elbow. It slows the porcelain and he looks over his shoulder at Bendy. The demon looks dead serious. It’s an unexpected kindness.

He sends Bendy a confused look, then he drags his eyes over the demon's expression, making sure he isn’t pulling his leg. “Really?” He asked, with a little disbelief. But seeing his husband's expression, he was determined now, his question might as well have been answered.

Going from his light touch on Cupheads elbow, Bendy slowly grips his upper arm using it to pull the porcelain to a stop. Then the demon pushes him to turn around, letting go then taking his other arm as he does. The demon starts pulling the porcelain back, feeling more sure of himself now that he’s given himself a job, “Yes, I’m sure. What books does he like?”

Oh, this was really happening. Huh. It was weird and unexpected but it didn’t chaff against him as pity or even a fake nicety for appearances. Looking down, where he’s been staring at Bendy’s face for a couple moments now, he just sees the will to help, not a hint of mal intent. It shouldn’t be so surprising. Cuphead has to swallow to get himself to speak, “Uh, He’s a really big romance guy, uhm actually, scratch that one.” Bendy is listening with rapt attention, or at least as much attention the situation warranted. What did his brother read again?? Cuphead fidgets a little bit with the checker board, before steeling himself and speaking, “Adventures and things like that. He likes pirates and all that. Mystery is fine too.” 

Bendy lets him go and he feels the cold of the air on his porcelain much more sharply than any point on his body. That growing part of himself wants the hand back. But the demon is turned away, heading off towards the library with as much urgency Cuphead himself has. The demon tossed his next words over his shoulder, “I’ll get him a couple options, see you in a few minutes.”

“Yeah,”Cuphead says stupidly. His feet take him back to his room on autopilot. Then hearing the lack of song from behind his door he snapped out of his spiral and opened the door. 

Mugs was still sitting on the bed but now he was facing the ceiling, he was zoning out. Cups shuts the door loud to get his brother's attention. When he does he holds up the checkers board and jangles it, sending a couple pieces flying out.

“Heya Mugs! How was the music?” Cuphead shouts, a complete 180 from his demeanor in the hall with Bendy. He had been saving his energy for his brother after all. 

“It was awful,” Mugs says, giving Cuphead a grin. It was good seeing his brother hadn’t deteriorated when he was gone. Cuphead sets the checkers board on the bed before grabbing the stray pieces along the floor.

“No point in lying Mugsy,”Cups teases, skipping back over to the bed. Mugman shakes his head, barely containing a smile. This was good, normal. It’d just been them, like this, for ages. That weird olive branch in the hallway just now, and earlier from himself surprisingly, didn’t make sense. He hadn’t reached out to someone else without expecting something in years, there was no calculation on his part here. It was odd. Well no point fixating on it, he needed to move forward.

When Cuphead sits down across from him and starts to set up the fabric board Mugman’s face screws up. Still he brother doesn’t sound too upset when he speaks, “Cuphead I think you forgot something.” Oh yeah, Mugman's book. 

Cuphead didn’t even look up as he answered, focused on laying down the pieces, “Nah, Bendy said he’d get ‘em for me.” Keeping his head down means he didn’t see how Mugman's easy demeanor dropped. His eyes widen as something rolls in his stomach, something gross, jealousy. He cools his complicated expression before Cuphead looks up. The red twin doesn’t feel the shift and he continues to speak, setting his hands down on his crossed legs, “He’s gonna have an easier time finding something you’d like then me.”

Mugman just looks down at the board between them, “Are we playing?” He serves away from the conversation they were having, it’s obvious looking back.

Taking the invitation for what it is, Cuphead moves one of his checkers forward. Mugs does the same on his side. They go back and forth for a round and then begin a second one. Mugman won the first round with a slightly dampened competitive smirk. Still nothing alerted Cuphead to something being wrong, he just assumed his twin was still getting out of that hate hole. 

A couple minutes later he hears a knock at the door, right in the middle of him setting up his next move. He’d been hamming it up for his brother who had just been complaining about Cuphead long turns, ‘I need to think!’ The blue twin was sitting with his hand on his chin, grumbling to himself. The knock threw both of them off. They turn to each other for a second, like there's something to agree on. There isn’t. Cuphead stands up, popping his back as he goes over to the door. 

Bendy’s at the door when he opens it, 4 or 5 hardcovers under his left arm. Cuphead feels a grateful look cross his face before he can stop it. He steps out, Bendy follows with his own step back to give him room. Cuphead pulls the door mostly shut leaving a small crack.

“Thanks Bends,” Cuphead says, keeping his voice low for a reason he can’t identify. Did he need to apologize for how he was acting earlier? Nah. Bendy looked fine. 

“It’s not a problem,” Bendy copies his lower voice and hands over the books. Cuphead takes them in one hand, balancing them against his chest. Behind the demon his tail curls and uncurls mid air. It kinda reminds Cups of a cat. Kinda cute…seriously what the hell was wrong with him. Bendy tilts his head, “You’ll be at dinner?” 

“Yeah,” There's a pause as Cuphead looks at Bendy, that feeling at the back of his heart swells. It’s creeping him out. Cups adjusts the books and shifts his weight, “Yeah, I’ll be at dinner. Gotta eat, right?”

And Bendy smiles at him. That’s quickly becoming the norm for them. It's nice. The demon glances behind Cups and his eyes widen marginally. Bendy turns away after that, his tail flicking through the air behind him, “I’ll see you then!”

Cuphead watches him go, then lets out a sigh and steps back into the room. And runs right into Mugs. “AH! What the hell, Mugs!?!” He shouts, nearly dropping the books in the process.

Mugman just steam rolls over Cuphead's exclamation, “Guess you’re all chummy now.” He turns on his heel and walks storms back over to the bed.

Cuphead honestly has no idea where this was coming from, he’d been fine just a minute ago! “Mugs? What’d I do? Did-” Cuphead cuts himself off, did Mugman think? “Mugs I promise I didn’t tell him anything! I wouldn’t do that. He just offered to help, I swear!”

Mugman sits on the bed, leaning on the edge. His arms are crossed in defense and head hangs low. “I wasn’t saying that Cuphead,” He mumbles, seeming darker than before. Cuphead sets the books down on his nightstand and sits beside his brother. Mugs sounds bitter when he speaks, “It’s just even you seem to have found somebody.” He’s even quieter as he finishes with a jab, “And you don’t even want it.”

Cuphead tenses, “That’s not fair, Mugman.” He was already struggling over this, he didn’t need his brother piling on too. How long has it been since they last argued? Cupheads holding tightly onto the

 sheets beside him, staring at the side of Mugman's head.

The blue porcelain’s nails dig into his elbows, “What's not fair is that I go out searching and searching for my person, for YEARS. And someone just falls right into your lap.” It's muffled underneath Mugman's scarf. It hits Cuphead right in the chest, the dark way he’s speaking.

“You know damn well I didn’t choose this. Just cause I'm taking it well doesn’t mean I’m not sacrificing something,” Cuphead says in a voice just as serious as Mugman's. He leans forward on his knees, trying to get his brother to look at him. Mugs looks up eventually, his expression carefully guarded. Cuphead continues, “Do you think I like belonging to anyone? You know what we’re going to have to do to fulfill the deal, right?” The thought of it disgusts Cuphead, he wouldn’t want to do that even with someone close, and he’d have to with this virtual stranger. 

“Yeah, I do,” Mugman says, blinking away the last of his resentment from his eyes. Cuphead turns away and they both stay silent, looking at the wall across from them. They both stay silent for a couple minutes. 

The checkers game sits empty behind them, a small tally with only one line right beside it on paper. On this particular wall there's a scratch from Cuphead's thick tools trunk bumping into it as they carried it in a week ago. It was full of scrap metal and half-drawn weapon schematics that Cuphead used in his daily life modifying and fixing up their guns. It had been a necessity when they were kids and became more of a hobby after that. They’d grown out of it. They hadn’t grown out of childish arguments yet, evidently. 

There's a sigh from Mugman before there's a shift in weight on the bed. Cuphead keeps his head forward as he hears it. Mugman’s grabbed the books off the table, silently reading the titles off the books Bendy picked out. A clicking noise of the mug taking his glasses from his breast pocket and putting them on his nose. There's a slide of smooth hard cover against hard cover as it happens, some pages being flipped through. A pause in between pages to skim them. It all passes between them in the quiet. Neither of them have the words right now. It’s a rare moment when Cuphead can’t think of anything to fill the silence. The cicadas right outside the window fill up the rest of the silence. The sun's setting now and the light is starting to leave the room. 

Mugs sets the books down and takes in a breath. Then slowly moves to rest their heads together with a light clink. Cuphead smiles, small but there, accepting it. He moves away the next moment, feeling better about it.

“I’ll be back soon, okay?” Cuphead says, with less cheer than before. Finally looking back at his brother, Mugman nods his head. Cupheads sure he’ll apologize soon, he’d just need a moment. He wasn’t lying when he said his brother was caring. Mugs felt things twice as much as others did, made him easy to anger and quick to love. Quicker to heartbreak after that. It was a ruthless circle that Cuphead has had to see his entire life, but he’s sure Mugman has dealt with his share of mood swings from the cup.

“See you then,” Mugman waves him off, shifting back onto the bed, leaning on the headboard. He is cracking open the book of his choice. Mugman seemed past that original date that had set him off now. Good. He doesn’t need to leave music on now, Mugs will prefer the quiet so he can read. 

Cuphead closes the door behind him as he leaves, staring at the wood paneling for a long moment. He felt nervous. If Mugman had noticed something enough to bring it up to him, should Cuphead be doing something differently? Did Bendy expect something from him? Was that why he helped him? He can’t even reassure himself because things like this go right over his head, it could be obvious to someone else but he wouldn’t see it. It means he would have to watch out now. It’d make him paranoid over the weeks. A weight of an expectation that might not even be there. 

A sigh, and then he fixes his face up into a smile. Alright, lets get it over with. Him and Bendy had established a balance. Right after they were married. A deal, unsealed, but held over mutual respect. They’d keep off each other's toes, only do what they needed to do. Cuphead just needed to refresh that deal, keep a distance between them. Cuphead starts down to the dining room, the sun drawing sharp shadows. It shone directly into this hall through wide windows, searing along his right side. It’d be dark soon, the sun was low. He already said he couldn’t stay long.

The dining room was just as large as it was this entire week looming in his mind as he walked; ornate deep red curtains partially open only letting streaks of the setting sun. A large chandelier lights up the room instead, an electric one that the twins had marveled over the first night. It was the only one in the house and only went on at dinner. Apparently it cost an arm and a leg to get installed. It was well worth it in Cupheads opinion. It cast the otherwise dark room in sun bright as the day. He had Barley show him how to turn it on one night while he was up wandering the ground. He had found Barley in the kitchen that night and wasn’t careful enough to sneak off without the old man noticing. 

Barley had been a good sport about it and had invited him into the kitchen. Cuphead couldn’t seem to squirm away so he ended up staying til the morning. Wasn’t something he regretted, Barley had some really funny stories. Barley told him about how he, Charley, and Edgar were a package, and had been for years. Had even told the cup how the three of them ended up here. 

“Well. I’m not gonna say we were kids-but when we were young us three had a boat,” Barley says, head tilted in deep thought. The two of them sat on crates across from each other, they creaked ominously every time one of them ever so much as breathed. Well, they hadn’t broken yet. Cuphead leaned in to listen, curious. Barley continues, “Small but sturdy, I was the helmsman, Charley the captain, and Edgar was whatever we needed in the moment.” There's a fond smile as he said it. 

“You let Charley boss you around?” Cuphead asks, goodnaturedly. They’d already gone on about their mutual dislike of Charley’s demeanor. Though Barley said from a much more friendly angle. 

The old man smirked, a look that reminded Cuphead a lot of his own grandfather, and answered, “Well we called him Captain, didn’t mean we treated him like one. I just didn’t want all the grunt work of telling Edgar how to do shit.” They both let out a snicker at that. The chef turned his head to the nearby window, cracking it open with a slow motion. Resting his wrist on the sill he turned to the cup, muttering, “You care if I smoke, boy?”

“Nah, go ahead, “ Cuphead says with a shrug, he had worse vices of his own. Instead he turned to catch the wind from the now open window, he sucked in the coolness with a deep breath. It reminded him of nights he’d spend outside with Mugman and Chalice, sleeping under the stars right beside the house. It was nice. 

“So you gonna let me talk or you wanna tell it yourself?” Barley asked, muffled through the pipe he’s stuck in his mouth to light. He lights it in a quick motion, a flick of his lighter and it already covers the bowl of his pipe in a warm red light. It came with a lot of practice. Cuphead hears the words a couple moments after they’re said, the nice memory receding back into his head. The cup nods and Barley starts again, “So we had the ship right? Us, the bunch of geniuses, decided to try to be pirates.”

Despite just promising not to interrupt Cuphead coughs out a laugh. He doesn’t even have to say anything, his disbelief fully translated over. Barley kicks his crate with a grumble of ‘shut your mouth kid,’ and some stifled laughter of his own. He puffs the smoke out the window beside them, it’s a sharp smell. Stronger than Elder Kettles normal tobacco, probably a better quality too. Perks of working at Darling manor he presumes.

“Yeah that went well. Got arrested quick and thrown in the slammer. Rotted away for 3 years and 2 months,” Barley says, the memory evidently doesn’t hold any pain in it any more, he says it easily between puffs. Cuphead longed for that ease, maybe it came with age and he’d stumble onto it eventually. Barley laughs to himself and that only serves to make the cup even more curious, the younger man sliding forward on his crate. Barley’s eyes glaze over as he walks through the memory, “Then the two oddest men I’ve ever met stumbled in. A large brown hound and a small white rabbit-like thing.”

The men from Bendy’s family portrait in the parlor, Cuphead had gone back to see it after Mugman remarked on it, and he knew it had to be them. This was really reminding him of sitting at his pops knee, waiting for a bedtime story. He even felt his eyes drooping. He wished Mugs could’ve been here too but the other had long gone to sleep. 

“I thought they were insane! Really! Sam and Max were their names, said they were some type of police and took the place by storm,” Barley chuckles through it, like he still can’t believe it to this day. He taps the smoking pipe as he thinks, sending some of the leaves onto the window sill. An inhale from the pipe and then an exhale as he speaks, “Edgar nearly shit his pants when they finally came to our cell and beat down the door. We were questioned. And by god that was the least sense questions have ever been in my near memory. Sometimes I didn’t even know what I was answering.”

Weird. Interesting though. Cuphead didn’t even stop his expression going openly mystified anymore. He leaned forward on his knees, folding his hands between them.

Barley waves his pipe around for a moment, “It was a pudding burglary, I think. Something I didn’t think constituted pulling officers in from the mainland. The little one, Max, bit a hole in my mattress!” The last sentence is said quickly like he was remembering it as it was said, which explained the drastic tone shift. 

“Bit a hole?? What!?” Cuphead says, a smile playing on his face. These guys were his in-laws? When would they be here so he could meet them! 

“Did I stutter, boy?” Barley says, waggling his smoking pipe at the cup. He seemed to be getting as much entertainment from this as Cuphead was, relishing the boy's expressions. “He said he was checking if it was full of pudding. He even swallowed the stuffing to double check!” The old man is now fully in story mode, waving his hands along. 

“So Of course I did what any sane would,” Barley waits a moment to build unnecessary suspense, “Laugh my ass off.” He covers his mouth to stop a belly laugh, no doubt picturing the very moment, “I mean you don’t see a lot of comedy staring at concrete walls, y’know?” Cuphead unconsciously matches the chef's crooked smile and rests his head in his hand, continuing to listen.

“So I’m bursting out my seams and that sets off my boys too, and we all laugh like a bunch of fools,” Barley is shooting off at the mouth now, his pipe long forgotten, “But these cops weren’t the usual kind, and they got these weird scheming expressions. Like they had just thought of the best prank possible.”

Now it's longwinded, “‘Hey Sam, say, didn’t our little devil darling need some butlers?’ The rabbity thing said, between his pointy teeth. ‘Course everything stopped being funny at this point for us and I was watching this exchange with concern. The hound answered, 'Sure, Little buddy, what are you thinking?’ That dog had a look like he knew damn well what his partner was thinking,” Barley was leaning forward himself now, pipe set down beside him so his hands could move without spilling soot.

“Max looked at me, looked at my buddies and got the most horrifying grin on his face, ‘Think I found the perfect candidates. What do you think?’ The rabbit had jumped up onto the hounds shoulder, whispering into his ear like some sort of shoulder demon. Sure enough Sam answered, ‘I don’t see why not.’ And Boom!”

The sudden loud noise makes Cups jump back. A mix of drowsiness and pure focus on the story. Barley sees it and grins, sitting back and picking his smoke pipe up. He gives it a couple of seconds himself, a little winded by the exclamation. The whole time Cuphead stayed at attention, still silent.

“Bendy was only 12 at that point, freshly appointed head of house with only his little brother for company,” A sentence accompanied with a much more grim tone than before. A puff of smoke then, “Sam and Max ain’t actually their parents. Not really. They had seen Bendy toiling in the system and took him out. Bendy liked his control- likes his control- and didn’t want a parent. He needed a friend. The two of them left him to his own devices, only visiting once and a while.”

Dang. That sucks. Guess there's no cool in-laws. But Barley is making up for that in spades just with his company. Stories of the pair could satiate him. But even still Cuphead can't stop himself from asking, "When's the last time they visited?”

Barley shakes his head, seemingly physically rejecting the question. He stuffs his pipe in his mouth to give himself a moment to think before speaking, “Years now. We haven’t heard from them either, or gotten any obituaries in the mail. Just gone.” 

Cuphead absorbs that physically, backing off until he sits straight again. Bendy had lost his parents. It explained the emptiness of the house. That and the distinct lack of a brother. He hadn’t even been mentioned by name yet, by anyone. He was a wolf, that much was obvious but nothing of his personality could be made out. Not in the painting or the vague way people spoke about him. No one had even told him where he was. Mugman and Cuphead had honestly started thinking he was dead. 

The silence was consuming the room. What did he even say to that? But Barley comes to the rescue, “Wanna go learn how to turn that electric chandelier on? Saw you ogling it yesterday.” The chef is standing with a groan before Cups can even answer, decision made. Barley stows his pipe away in a kitchen drawer and walks off, not turning to check for Cuphead. He didn’t have to, the twin was after him already.

Jeez get a hold of yourself Cups. Can’t go around with your head stuck in the fog like that

He had reached the dining room now and stepped in, his trek down memory lane stanching his nerves somewhat. Stepping in it’s all there just as he expected. Tall windows, dark curtains, and a fancy chandelier. The table is long and fit with a velvety runner, the seats lined each side, perfect symmetry with their cushy backs. And at the very end of the room, Bendy sat at the head of the table, bent over a sketch book, if he was making it out right. 

The demon looks up, breaking from his concentrated expression to greet Cuphead with a stilted smile. The cup gives him back a similar look as he strolls up to sit beside the demon. They had decided forgoing the whole ‘heads at either end of the table’ was in their best interest and Cuphead had his own chair to Bendy’s right. Mugman sat beside Cuphead when he was there. But he wasn’t. It was just Cuphead and his husband. Something that hadn’t made him tense hours before, but now it felt wrong to even think. This feeling was one he was used to, however sad that was. The warmth from before has slinked back into his hindbrain, he missed it. 

“Hello, Cups,” Bendy says, giving a small wave. He set down his pen beside his sketch book, right into his gold lined ink well. He was wearing the same green dress from earlier in the day but has shed the bodice. Underneath was a plain button up that had been undone a couple buttons at the top. The sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, making sure they wouldn’t get smudged with ink. 

He was as put together as always, but it didn’t usually unnerve Cuphead like this. The brothers had long given up their suits from the first day, fading back into signature trenches and jumpsuits. He didn’t miss the suits by any means but he missed the message they gave; that he and Bendy were equals. He didn’t feel so equal right now. Cuphead reaches out to his seat, grabbing it by its back to flip it around. He throws a leg over the chair sitting with his chest leaned against the chairs cushioned backing. Cuphead crosses his arms over the head rest which came up to his mid chest. At the end of his show he just sends Bendy a wide grin, recognized as the purposely grim one from his first day here. Cuphead didn’t answer Bendy from before, only giving him a nod in greeting.

Now. He wasn't being subtle, at all. Bendy’s face dropped his smile the millisecond he heard the scuffle of the chair being turned. All that replaced it when it left was an expression of unease. The demon's eyebrows scrunched, his eyes widened minutely, and his lip upturned just slightly. Had he been hoping that Cuphead would have become less closed off after he had delivered those books? He’d be sorely mistaken. Cuphead took in every detail of Bendy, trying to scare him off with his stare. It was a mockery.

Bendy folds his hands in front of him, and despite the cups best attempts, doesn’t look the least bit intimidated by the man beside him. There's no rage, just a calm, like Bendy was trying to puzzle him out. He was matching Cuphead where he was. A staring contest neither wanted to lose. 

But Cuphead wasn’t himself tonight and couldn’t help breaking form to poke at his spouse, “What? Something on my face?” Its tone is one of a joke, sounding just as it should. The only issue is the situation it’s inserted into. 

The demon tilts his head, “No. Nothing.” He wasn’t giving into a joke right now, he needed to fix this situation. Pull Cuphead out of whatever hole he had dug himself into, this barrier couldn’t stand their whole lives. It’d drive Bendy up a wall- so he’s blowing it down. Right now.  Bendy leans forward on his folded hands, whispering, “But you know that already. So stop being cute. I can get a bad mood, but you ain’t allowed to shove it in my face. Especially when I haven’t done anything wrong.”

It's unexpected. Their close proximity not helping at all, Bendy’s elbows now laid close enough that he’d only have to stretch his arm halfway out. But that wasn’t the biggest change in demeanor there was. Bendy normally spoke in a perfect transatlantic accent, just like every other voice on the radios Cuphead had heard. But now, in this low tone he heard something familiar. The local drawl that matches his own. Something else thrown in, something from the city, if he had to guess. Cuphead unfurled and clenched his fingers along his elbows, nerves spilling out from the direct attack. Still, a smile hung on his face.  

“I have no idea what you mean,” Cuphead finally answers once his initial shock wears off. New accent or not he wasn’t going to stop, he had a point to make. Even as he felt guilt creep in he couldn’t stop. This distance was important, if Bendy thought he was an asshole, he wouldn’t expect anything from him anymore. And things could go back to normal. He pushes even more, “One mean face is all you need to be set off?”

“Cuphead. Stop this,” Bendy warns, his voice still carrying the deathly still from before. They’re leaned in close and they can almost feel the air crackling between them, an almost physical boil for Cuphead. This was quickly sliding out of control. Maybe he didn’t need dinner, celestials know he doesn’t want to be here. The devil's tail is flicking back and forth behind him, spikes unfruling along it. They looked really sharp. It was a defensive action, like he was preparing for danger.

“Why?” Cuphead says darkly, not able to help himself. That risk, that gamble of emotion was drawing him deeper and deeper in the mud. What would Bendy do if he said this? Would he cry? Would he scream? Would he still care about Cuphead? He feels a wave of self-hatred pull him under as that last thought appears. He was leaving Mugman behind, he was going against everything he knew about himself. It was maddening. He was afraid and it made him furious, “Y’know what, I'm gonna let you know something. I don’t care.”

The Devil leans back in his chair, a bitter expression on his face. He’s nodding his head like he’s not surprised at all. His tail has curled around his chair leg now, the spikes along it scraping the wood. This is what he wanted, distance. See? It wasn’t so bad. 

His husband looks like he’s about to say something back, opening his mouth that’s sunken with a scowl. But the adjoining door that leads to the kitchen flies open, the small form of Edgar skittering inside. The spider's face is hidden behind the plates of food and he can’t seem to feel the awful tense atmosphere as he happily squeaks in greeting. Neither man responds but both make an effort to not appear as hostile as before, looking away from each other.

Edgar sets down the plates with a joking flourish and a trumpeting noise. Cuphead had been greeting him with a matching trumpeting noise for a couple nights now, or a similar noise. The spider had become a good friend, like Barley when he was walking the grounds. While it was surprising that Edgar is probably ten years his senior, based on Barley’s stories, it was fun acting childish with him. The spider was too nervous to pull tricks himself but would happily laugh when Cuphead pulled his own. It's why Edgar turns to face him with a smile, expectant. Only to be met with a stale intimidating smile that made the man frown. Edgar turned to Bendy with a confused expression and let out a squeak. 

“We’re okay, Edgar,” Bendy says, inclining his head at the man beside him. He directs a smile at Edgar that the spider sees straight through. Bendy’s spiked tail is all the evidence that Edgar needs, despite the Devil trying to hide it underneath the table. He looks back over at Cuphead and looks…betrayed?

There's a squeak of question now directed at Cuphead and the cup honestly has no idea what to say back. He had a right to be standoffish, he didn’t owe Edgar or Bendy an explanation. Cuphead shifts in the chair, eliciting a squeak of the back rest. Cuphead realizes he’s been squeezing the life out of the top of the seat and loosens his grip. At least for Edgar, he didn't want him to be afraid. The spider hadn’t done anything and he scraped together his last nerves and carefully painted a smile for Edgar.

It makes the man relax marginally, glancing back at Bendy, unsure. He makes an aborted motion to move from two feet to four, a move Edgar only does when he feels vulnerable, but catches himself before he does so. It seems Edgar didn’t want to push Cuphead anymore. A mercy Cuphead felt immensely thankful for. Bendy, of course, is way past mercy. 

“He was just apologizing, Edgar,” Bendy answers the spider’s look with a voice teetering between pitying and sharp. The Devil reaches out and sets a clawed hand on Edgar's shoulder. Then tilting his head at his partner he continues with a malice filled smile, "Right Cuphead?”

Cuphead sends him a scowl over the spider's head, a look of his own that is supposed to warn the demon. It doesn’t work and he has to fix his face again when the spider looks back at him. After a moment of awkward staring, Cuphead relents for Edgar and nods his head. 

Finally the spider relents and leaves them with their food. The pitter patter of Edgar's uneven gait echoes a little too loudly for the size of the room. Edgar gives a low hum as he exits to say goodbye. Cuphead watches him go with a sigh. The food that had been brought smelled good and Edgar had even set an extra covered plate beside him for Mugs. A glance down shows that he’s been served a kind of pasta. It was more orange then red so it wasn’t spaghetti-

His thoughts are cut off as the Devil suddenly reaches out and grabs him by his collar. Immediately Cup reaches for his straw pushing against the table in front of him to pull away from the attack. But freezes his hand as it touches his straw, Its Bendy. And for some stupid reason he can’t bring himself to draw his gun on him. Bendy is holding him so tightly that his fists are shaking. His tail thrashes behind him, flexing his spines out. Despite all this Cuphead feels a true smile grow on his face, this was exactly what he wanted and that addictive feeling of adrenaline was already coursing through him.

Bendy’s voice is low, it seems Cupheads attitude had finally broken him down, “Get a hold of yourself. You may be my husband now but this is my home.” His words were fraught with anger, his accent only growing sharper. Still The Devil kept his voice low, trying to make sure none of the staff would hear them, “And in my house if there's a goddamn problem we communicate.”

Cuphead feels more at ease now and allows his smile to fall into a saddened small one. He drops his hands to his sides, but keeps his fists clenched. His eyelids lower as he looks up at Bendy, his voice mocking, “What’re you gonna do about it?”

The demon's face drops entirely, turning into a completely blank look. Bendy’s eyes shrink into slivers and seemingly start to glow, if only slightly. A shadow falls over his brow as he stares down at Cuphead. And the cup?  Yeah he felt like he had just made a bad choice. His thought was rewarded and answered a moment later when Bendy used his tail to pull Cuphead's chair out from below him. The cup drops down onto his arms and quickly rolls out of the way before one of Bendy’s hooves can meet his side. 

Cuphead stands up in a fluid motion and immediately gets socked in the jaw before he can put his hands up. It makes him stumble and maybe a lesser man would’ve gotten shredded by Bendy’s claws but he was able to grasp them just in time. Bendy growls in annoyance and tries swiping at him anyway but the cup keeps his spouse's hands a good foot away from his chest. 

“Woah! Woah Woah!” Cuphead says a little astonished at Bendy’s reaction but his adrenaline keeps a smile on his face, despite the slow throbbing of his left cheek. Eesh Bendy hit him good. He was expecting a shouting match, not a beatdown. Bendy hadn’t really seemed the type.

Bendy shook his hands free and stepped back. His face was distorted, a dark substance leaking down from the edges of his head. It drips down onto his white shirt, staining every inch of it in the process. Bendy looks a little crazed, his eyes wide and his mouth turned down. His stance is low with his hands out like he was ready to launch himself again. 

“You don’t just get to act like that!” Bendy says, his voice wavering slightly under the pressure of his anger. The cup stands at the ready, watching for any punches the other might throw. But Bendy just looks at him with a furious expression. “I’ve been nothing but understandin’ to you! Kind! I’m trying so hard to make this better than burning in hell for us both!” He shouts, now pulling his hands in to uselessly grab at the front of his shirt.

It’s loud enough that Cuphead can hear a panicked shuffling from the kitchen, as 3 sets of feet run towards them both. At best they have a couple seconds alone before the staff bursts through the door. So what did he say to that in such a brief time? It seems he didn’t even have time to respond though, Bendy finally felt like he could speak his mind and went right off the rails.

“You aren’t the only one who’s suffering!” Bendy continues, looking down at the floor and blinking rapidly. Ink dripped down onto the floor with each sharp movement the words made him take. The porcelain watched this with growing guilt, the fight leaving him as Bendy fully started to snap. The demon pointed at him, in between the ink sloshing down his face a single eye glared at him, “I’m trapped with you! Stuck! And I just have to accept it! And you don’t even care, you think it-its-”

His thoughts run away from him and he drops his hand as he thinks, not a second later the kitchen door bursts open. Edgar was at the front on all feet, holding a handkerchief in his mouth and a fearful expression. Charley close behind, looking absolutely furious and clutching an apron that he likely had been wearing just a moment ago. Barley walked in last, staying near the door and unlike his friends was staring directly at Cuphead. His expression wasn’t quite disappointment but it still grated against the cups nerves. 

Cuphead turned to face the devil, the demon, as his staff crashed into him to take him away. Bendy looked down at the floor now, watching as the drops fell onto the ground with what seems to be mortification, an angry furrow in his brow. The porcelain doesn’t see the glances from Edgar, the glare from Charley, just the demon. It feels like slow motion as a respect slowly forms for the other, something he had braced to never truly happen. His husband wouldn’t put up with shit and shouldn't be viewed as some game anymore. Like the other had said, it wasn’t fair that he tried so hard. It was awful to admit someone else was right, especially so easy. Maybe it was that growing fondness he couldn’t help, or the throb of his cheek from the recent attempt at an asskicking. Cuphead couldn't look away, like a magnet drawn to its pair, an intense force keeping them connected even as he’s pulled away.  Bendy doesn’t look up once, the majority of his body hidden behind Charley as he holds him by his waist. Edgar just behind him, squeaking quicker and quicker. 

The skirt of Bendy’s dress drags inky trails behind him, swirling like a stormy sea between the legs of his butler and footman. Their closeness squeezes the green fabric. Cuphead was hypnotized. It was like he was in the hall again, holding Bendy’s hand and smiling. Again all his focus went only to him, His. His husband. It hadn’t been a coincidence nor a mistake then and it wasn’t now. The rhythmic beat of his heart matched Bendy’s stumbling steps and the now more apparent pain in his cheek. 

Love, or something like it, squirmed inside of him. Cuphead felt splintered apart and then sealed over by a cool balm. He couldn’t be sure yet. Not that he had a chance any longer. Bendy was rightfully furious. All for what? To make sure Cuphead was protected from any affection Bendy would’ve given him? His own ‘boundary’ felt sour in his throat. But how did he fix this? He couldn’t even check with his brother what to do, or have his support. It’d inadvertently hurt him, Cuphead knew from deep inside him. Mugman's words from earlier only solidified it. He’d be alone for now, navigating through the storm left in Bendy’s wake that he himself had struck thunder and lighting into. 

The door slammed as the group left into the kitchen, Barley giving him one last look as he shut it. Now the old man looked more introspective than before, like he had seen something. Likely whatever stupid expression that was on Cuphead's face. He himself had no idea what he’d even look like right now. 

He blinked out of his head and started to smile again, something that only looked like a beginning of happiness, the other half stuck in disbelief. The night had fully fallen now, the chandelier the only light left, making reflections on the slivers of windows. It blocked the view of the outside world, and fought back the streams of moonlight. Cuphead stepped over to the table, picking his chair up and sliding it back into place. As he walked he kept his shoes clear of the drops of ink, eyes on the floor. He held onto the back of the chair, sinking his fingers into the cushion and staring down at the plates in front of him.

“Hello, Bendy,” Cuphead says aloud into the quiet, smirking to himself. He’d probably look insane talking to a plate of pasta to any onlooker but it felt perfectly reasonable to him now. It seems he had finally met his spouse. 

With a nod of his head he scoops up his and his brother's plate from the table and heads back up to his room. Guess he had an apology to plan. 

Click. “Come on-” Click Click. “Stupid goddamn lighter,” The demon muttered to himself, fiddling with his lighter. The moon hung heavy in the sky, full. A chilling autumn air rustled the nearby trees, scratching the windows of the manor and dropping leaves. Piles of golden, red, and orange lined the normally dull sidewalk in front of the house. Colors Bendy could only make out due to his ability to see in the dark, a quirk that came with his tail and horns at birth. 

He’s out on his balcony now, finally physically clean from all of his ink and is now trying to expunge his irritation. Bendy is still fuming and it’s just pissing him off even more in a vicious cycle. He can’t stand the idea that someone who he’s barely known has such a power over him emotionally. That on top of the idea of that man owning him, even as a partner. It didn’t feel nearly as disgusting when he sold himself to the Devil. He could ignore it then, hide in movies and performances. But now? He had to live with that mistake lurking inside his home, eating with him. 

Bendy wants to bridge that gap so badly so this awful feeling will just go away. And so he hid himself in another performance, he made a mask of his own face. And it all crumbled down on him. It’d been too much for him to keep up the perfect spouse routine. Especially when he was facing off against that asshole at HIS dining table. He didn’t deserve this. 

Bendy had thought it was getting better, that he might have actually found someone to be with that he could stand. He wasn’t clingy, not like Dandy was. Cuphead never looked at him like he was a piece of meat either, not that Bendy had seen anyway. The demon was grateful for that, he hated the idea of being ogled and objectified by someone so close to him. And he was funny, sometimes too funny. Cuphead had a dark sense of humor sometimes, likely due to a life that led him to owe his soul to the devil. A humor he had to pretend didn’t want to make him keel over with laughter all for the sake of his perfect ‘Darling Devil’ show. 

Look at him! Going on and on about the porcelain like he wasn’t supposed to be the bane of his existence right now. Cuphead had said it himself, he didn’t care. Not about Bendy or their marriage or any boundary he set. Despite everything Bendy had done to endear himself to his spouse, it hadn’t been enough. He’d be stuck with someone who didn’t care for the rest of his life. He’d be forced to have a family with a man who didn’t care.

His brother wasn’t any better either. At least Cuphead was amicable enough to talk but the other twin? Barely spoke more than two words in his direction at a time. Sometimes he hovered in the back of rooms, watching them interact like some sort of guard dog. It made some pathetic part of himself yearn for his father and dad, in all honesty. Or his brother. His parents would’ve already pieced these guys apart and put him back together. Make Cuphead care, somehow. They were always good at making everything go their way. The manor had never felt so empty with them here. 

The presence he missed the most was Boris, mostly because he could be here, and he wasn’t. With every letter returned with fewer words it felt like a chasm opening between the brothers. Boris had always been bad at keeping contact but never like this. It was awful seeing his brother pull away. Sometimes Bendy could see a barely erased title and badge number under Boris’ signed name, like this wasn’t a personal letter. He couldn’t come for the wedding of course and Bendy didn’t want to hurt himself asking for Boris to come again, knowing he’d be shut down. His brother had found his place, and it wasn’t with Bendy. He had to live with that. 

So. He needed a smoke right now. Except his damn lighter wasn’t working. Or every time it did an errant wind would blow it out. It was only souring his mood. That same wind sent shivers down his spine, making his spikes flare up just slightly. Bendy was wearing something simple now, a white button up and dark blue pants, but they weren’t very warm. It felt too much of a hassle to go in and get a coat so he stood and suffered from the cold. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if he could light this damn cigarette.

As his mind focused on the click click click of his lighter and skipped over the scratching of branches on windows, it had entirely missed the slow sound of a window being opened. 

“Damn thing. Just when I need-” Bendy mutters before an awfully familiar and newly grating voice sounds out in the silence.

“Need a light, Bends?” It says, and Bendy whirls around, outraged, to face into his bedroom. He crumbles his cigarette in his hand in the process. Had he broken into his room?! Oh he was going to… Cupheads not in his bedroom. The demon's furious glare turns baffled, was he really hallucinating his voice? Had he gone mad? Cuphead speaks again, dispelling Bendy’s dawning horror, “Over here, Angel.”

The voice is coming from two windows down, Cuphead hanging his top half outside of frame to wave at Bendy. Cuphead must have found his way into the guest room beside Bendy’s chambers, somehow. After Bendy locks eyes with him he sits back, leaning his elbows on the bottom of the frame. The demon's fury comes right back and he spits his words at Cuphead, “What the hell do ya think you’re doing?” 

He didn’t even bother with his cover anymore, too tired to put on a ‘gentlemanly’ accent or a soft understanding smile. Bendy could feel the grits of nicotine between his fingers, it was disgusting. His attitude didn’t seem to bother the cup though and he kept his easy expression. The porcelain's voice was calm and light, but not in the joking way it normally was, it caused Bendy to shrink back just a hair. “Just wanting to talk to you. Ya weren’t answering your door,” Cuphead nods towards Bendy’s dark room with his head, curtains brushing along his cheeks when wind comes past. The large purple bruise on his left cheek looking shiny now. His face was blank, not even a smile. He was serious now, “So. Need a light?”

Bendy squared his shoulders, glaring down his nose as the man a couple meters away from him, vines covering the distance between them. A large gnarled olive tree grew up to the vines, a thick coat of ivy around its trunk and branches. Bendy remembered when it hadn’t even reached up to the lip of a window on the first floor and now it nearly stood between them. The demon remembered when it first disturbed the brick pathway in front of the house with its roots and his Pops had simply said to ‘let it grow and maybe some fool of a prince might try and climb it for you.’ Stupid. Why couldn’t his dad be here now to say something stupid like that again? Why couldn’t his father be here to agree without a thought?Why couldn’t Boris be here to sigh at their parents' antics with him?

“Go away, Cuphead,” Bendy said between a snarl that pulled a low throaty noise out of him. To fully solidify his point he turned his back on the cup and stormed back to the stone railing on his balcony. His view of the town felt less silent and beautiful now, it felt dull and normal again. It was like his eyes now skipped over the small details that brought it to life, likely due to his mind racing.

Bendy assumed he’d hear a scoff and a slam of the window as the other left him, instead he heard an odd shifting of fabric. Still trying to look busy the demon digs in his pockets for another cigarette intent on ignoring whatever Cuphead was doing. There was a loud creak and then a scuff of a shoe on stone, followed shortly by a ringing noise Bendy had started to recognize as the sound of Cupheads straw moving along his head. Still, Bendy was too stubborn to give up his brooding to see what was going on, no matter how much his curiosity bit at him. 

There was more shuffling and a very quiet, “Shit,” from behind him. Bendy tried, he really did, to ignore it but he really couldn’t anymore. The last straw was him fumbling his newly obtained cigarette right over the balcony. Fine. He’d look. Just for a second. 

Turning very slowly to look over his shoulder to see what the other was doing he came across a very odd sight. Bendy’s eyes bugged out of his head and he scrambled fully around to face his husband, who was currently slowly shifting along the building ledge, a couple feet away from the original window now. Bendy splutters for a second before yelling, “Get down from there!”

“Trying to! I’ll be there soon, just sit tight,” Cuphead answers, muttering his words as he carefully watches his footing. Bendy knows he’s acting dense on purpose, and lets out a grumble. Suddenly he’s not too concerned about the cup falling and his wide eyes narrow again.

“I don’t want to see you right now! Go away,” Bendy shouts, eyes flicking over Cuphead. The man is precariously sliding along the wall, the fabric of his coat making soft scratching noise as his back moves along it. He’s almost to the window in between them, the cups fingers gripping the frame. Bendy scoffs and tries to force himself to turn back around but… he’ll just watch until Cuphead makes it over. For no reason other than curiosity.

“No can do, Bendy,” Cuphead says, pausing in his movement only so he can look up at Bendy as he says his next words. “I still owe you an apology, and my Pops always said you shouldn’t let anyone go to bed mad,” He spoke, finally letting a small smile break through his expression. The porcelain holds eye contact with his husband for another second then looks back down to keep his slow scuttle to the balcony going.

Bendy? Well, Bendy is looking at the cup's shoulder like he’s expecting to find a zipper or something. His whole body is tense but not in anger. The demon was purposely freezing himself so the immediate and uncalled for affection that rose at that statement. He wasn’t going to let himself be won over so easily. He’s still mad. Bendy responds after an awkward pause, forcing his anger into his words, “I hope you fall and crack your head open.”

Cuphead visibly rolls his eyes, his head going with the motion. He’s past the window now and only a couple of feet away, leaning forward to grab at the railing. Bendy starts mentally preparing to force the cup out of his room before he hears a distinct crack. There's a shout as the porcelain missing his footing on the now broken ledge, falling forward toward the balcony, “Ah shit!”

Without another thought Bendy lunges forward as he loses sight of his husband behind the balusters, “Cuphead!” 

Only when he reaches the railing and looks over does he let out a shaky sigh of relief. The cup gives him a shaky thumbs up from the olive tree branch he had landed on, “A-all good!” He’s winded, his arms and chest had caught the brunt of the fall, the porcelain landing on his stomach on the wide branch. Bendy sighs and leans his face into both hands, resting his elbows on the rail. Goddamnit. Cuphead pulls himself to stand on the wide branch, looking up at the demon. There's only a couple feet between them now and the cup offers his hand up to close the gap, “Help me up?”

“Moron, I should leave you down there” Bendy says as he grabs the hand anyway. The subtle chime of his claws dragging along the porcelain of Cupheads palm and wrist bring out the buzzing he had felt earlier. The ring on Bendy’s finger makes an extra crescendo of noise. A low hum in his head that drove him mad. The demon grunts a little as he pulls Cuphead up, the other having a foot up on the bottom of the railing for leverage.

Their faces meet as Cuphead is pulled up to his full height against the other side of the stone. The body heat radiating from him is stark against the crisp air that brushes past them. That combined with Cupheads increased heartrate, that Bendy can pick up with his hearing this close, makes them feel too close. The demon lets go and steps back to let Cuphead come over the railing. Halfway over Cuphead speaks, “Thanks.”

Bendy turns away, wrapping his arms around his body to fight the cold off. He steps back up to the edge where he had been standing, silent as he tries to control himself again. Without anything better to do he returns to his original goal; a smoke. Except now it seems he has a guest. Cuphead steps up beside him and leans on the railing, trying to catch Bendy’s eye as he looks out at the town.

“Go away,” Bendy mutters as one last pathetic attempt to get the porcelain to leave. There's no such luck obviously. He pulls out his faulty lighter again, stubbornly flicking it.

“Nah,” Cuphead answers, keeping his eyes stuck on Bendy’s even as they are not met. Though he gives a cursory glance at the lighter as it goes off, raising an eyebrow. Then with a subtle smirk he forms a finger gun with his left hand, lighting his pointer and middle finger up with his blue magic. Bendy turns to face the eerie glow, taken off guard. Cuphead nods his head at it, “I will light your way in darkness and all that, eh?” 

Looking up from the flame, Bendy rids his face of his wonder and scowls at the other for the poor joke. Citing their wedding vows might not be the best idea right now, considering. Nevertheless Bendy leans his head towards the flame to light the end of his cigarette. Bendy mumbles his answer around his first puff of smoke, “You ain’t funny, Cups.” 

“Maybe not,” Cuphead finally looks away, staring off into the middle distance with Bendy. The smoke from his cigarette pooled up into the air above them, drifting along to the right with each gust of wind. “But I am sorry,” Again, his voice is unburdened by the cruelty it had earlier.

 It was a show of his true character that Bendy felt connected to as they both are revealing their cards. No more false identities or feelings here. The nicotine was helping Bendy calm down, his shoulders untensing ever so slightly. Though that might’ve just as well have been caused by Cuphead's words. Bendy took the cigarette out of his mouth, blowing smoke in the opposite direction of his spouse. Fine. He’d let him have this, “Yeah, for what?”

“I haven’t been fair to you,” Cuphead says, after an inhale. It seems like his words are hard for him to get out. Not that he didn’t mean them, just that his guard hadn’t been dropped like this in a long time. He’s leaning forward on his crossed arms now, sinking his head down, “You’ve been trying and I’ve been taking advantage of that.”

It gets Bendy’s attention, at the very least. In honesty he was prepared to stay mad for however long, no matter what Cuphead did, but now? He hadn’t actually expected an apology. So what was he supposed to do now? Bendy takes another drag as he thinks, his eyes searching the smoke like it might have an answer; It doesn’t. All the noise Bendy makes is a small hum, “Hm?”

Cuphead nods his head forward even more, facing the stone railing. His legs kick back and shift like he’s stopping the urge to run. The porcelain flexes his fingers before picking up his speech, his voice the same serious lilt as before, “I don’t know if it felt the same to you. But earlier today, when it was just us. I felt like we had…something. Something good.” Cuphead clears his throat uselessly, giving himself a pause. “I don’t want to ruin that by not reciprocating anymore,” The porcelain finally glances over at Bendy, peaking around his own shoulder.

Bendy half looks at him like he’s grown a second head and half like he had just heard the nicest thing ever said to him. It made for a spectacularly complicated expression. As he looked back at the cup he held his cigarette out of his mouth pinched between his fingers, forgotten. Bendy's head was racing, was this a ploy, was this another joke? Cuphead looked more and more unsure of himself as time stretched on but never let his eyes drop, hoping to project his sincerity.

The but finally burnt short, scalding the skin between Bendy’s fingers and shocking him back into now. He quickly jumps back to throw his but on the ground and stomp on it, causing Cuphead to stand to attention, his hands held halfway up. The demon looks up slowly and wrings his wrists in front of himself. Now that the cigarette has been put out the cold creeps in and he suppresses a shiver. Bendy purposefully keeps his hope out of his words, though his tentative expression might give him away, “You mean it?”

“Yeah. Mean it so much I came to see you in the middle of the night,” Cuphead finally gives into humor, cracking a smile along with his words. He deserves it after he got that out, the demon supposes. The cup is standing upright in front of him now, both of them having moved away from any of the railings. His hands are still at his sides but his head moves around as he talks, “So can you give me one more chance?”

Bendy thinks it over for a moment, already knowing his answer. If Cuphead could get hit across the face, as evidenced by the dark purple bruise on his cheek pushed up by a smile, and still want to be around Bendy? He looked honest like he really did care, but Bendy had to be sure, “Fine. But you have to start wearing your ring. Capiche?”

Cuphead looked relieved for all of a second before Bendy asked him about his ring. That command just brought him a confused expression. He tilts his head, “Bendy I wear my ring everyday?”

Bendy scoffs and scowls at him again, he knew it, Cuphead just wanted to play with him, “Then I would’ve seen it, wouldn't I? What kinda idiot do you take me for?”

“You haven’t seen it because I don’t walk around shirtless, Bends,” Cuphead said crudely, immediately making the demon give him another baffled look. Cuphead just smiles a little wider as he grabs the collar of his turtle neck to reach down it. The sleeve of his trench coat is pulled back as he does so, an expanse of cracks running down his forearm. After a second of sticking his tongue out and searching he finally fishes out his ring, tied along a sliver string, “See! Been around my neck since day one. Just cause I don’t wear it around my finger doesn’t mean I don’t have it.”

Ah. He’s had his ring this whole time. The thought of Cuphead not even caring enough to have his ring has soured him since the wedding. He’s seen it as a rejection of his partnership… and he was entirely mistaken. Stupidly Bendy repeats what he heard aloud, “You’ve. Had it on this whole time.”

“Yeah! You didn’t think I did?” Cuphead responds instantly, letting his ring drop against his chest and lowering his hands. It glinted in the moonlight as it twisted around. The porcelain took in the other sheepish expression with concern, stepping forward to be closer. He was frowning again as he spoke, “The only reason I keep it around my neck is because it slips off easily. Porcelain, y’know? And I definitely didn’t wanna lose it.” A pause, then a quieter question, “You didn’t think I had it at all?”

“I guess I didn’t,” Bendy admits, looking down at his husband's shoes, feeling a bit embarrassed. He’s spent all of that time mad about nothing at all, quietly suffering under his own face. Bendy hated that. Why couldn’t he be normal? Why couldn’t this be normal? This was all so stupid.

Cuphead cuts into Bendy’s thoughts, almost like he senses the spiral, with a joke, “So you were thinking that you were married to a loser for a full week?” It’s self-deprecating and the perfect way to elicit a small chuckle from Bendy. It's so sudden and stark against his thoughts it almost forces it out of him.

“I don’t know if I think otherwise just yet,” Bendy says, looking back up again. There's a shine in his spouse's eyes as he does so, the cup was glad the banter was back. If Bendy felt comfortable enough to poke fun at him unmaliciously, it had to be a good sign. Bendy confirms this with another step forward, holding out his hand to Cuphead hoping beyond hope they could have that physical connection they had in the hall once more, “But… I suppose I forgive you.”

A wide grin spreads across Cuphead's face and Bendy feel good about his decision already. Then Cuphead reaches back out him and Bendy sucks in a breath, was it that easy? Could he ask for this whenever he needed reassurance now? A physical connection- What was Cuphead doing right now. Was he…shaking Bendy’s hand????? Cuphead is speaking, shaking Bendy’s hand with vigor, “You won’t regret it Bendy!”

This moron. Bendy lets out small giggles until he dissolves into complete hysterics. Snorts and all Bendy laughs right in Cupheads face, nearly bent in half. He had been such an idiot. This was the guy he had been so worried about ruining his life? The demon was giggling into their conjoined hands by the end of it, rubbing his forehead on the top of Cuphead's hand. The porcelain himself was looking on in pure confusion, had he done something wrong?

Finally Bendy straightens himself to grin at Cuphead, taking in a shaky breath to speak, “I wanted to hold your hand, Cupsy.” His whole body rang with the after effects of his laughter, making him warm from their point of contact outward. 

The other looked relieved he hadn’t messed up and smiled back, flushing just slightly. The porcelain knew he wasn’t the most romantic person but the fact that had flown right over his head was very embarrassing. Still, Bendy looked beautiful like that. Even sounded fully himself, his entire soul put into that laughter. He’d draw it out again somehow, maybe by letting him pick on him some more, “I’m realizing that now.”

“‘Yessir! I’ll behave myself next time!’” Bendy said, holding his free hand up to his mouth. The other held tightly to Cupheads. He shook their hands, like his husband had a moment ago, fully mocking him. He’s even put on an approximation of the porcelain's voice, “‘Gee willikers! Hope I can make it up to you! Ain’t I a good cup?’”

The joke didn’t even make much sense but that didn’t seem to matter to Bendy who barked out some more laughter. He had to be loopy from stress and a lack of sleep, Cuphead figured. Or maybe Bendy just was so relieved it made him stupid. Cuphead wanted to hear more of it, “Yeah yeah ham it up. I’ll get you back later.”

Bendy finally cooled off, opening his eyes again to stare up at Cuphead, who looked down at him like he hung the moon. It was nerve wracking and perfect all at once so bendy quickly skirted around his feelings. He teased, “You’re actually lucky you apologized now. Edgar was threatening to spit in your food until you made it up to me. I’ll have to tell him in the morning, if he hasn’t heard already.” Bendy says the last part under his breath and a little bit secretively.

Cuphead's eyes widened, he had thought out of every staff member Edgar would be the last for something like that. Guess he didn’t know him well enough yet. He glanced down at their entwined hands, guess he had done something right all on his own. Then his ears catch the last part and he raises an eyebrow, “What’s that mean? Does he live in the walls or something?”

He had said it like a joke but Bendy’s nervous expression and the lack of eye contact made it feel like that very much was the truth. Bendy starts speaking, “Well…”

“You’re kidding me! “Cuphead says incredulously, now looking around the balcony and at the window he had left open. He could say this in front of Bendy but if anyone else had heard him he’d puke. Bendy clears his throat to get his attention and Cuphead looks back with slight concern.

“Ehm. Edgar's very nosy. If he even catches a whiff of drama he’ll stalk you like prey,” Bendy says, waving his free hand around as a sort of distraction. Their hands had been dropped between them now, slightly swinging. They still stood face to face, so Cuphead saw the complicated expression of guilt and sheepishness form on his spouse's face. Bendy turns his eyes up to the sky as he speaks his next words, “Like for instance listening into conversations while sitting in a vent.”

Now. Cuphead only had a couple of guesses of why Bendy would look that guilty about something that wasn’t even about him. Or supposedly not about him. Bendy had been suspicious about him had he not? Cuphead narrows his eyes and drops his easy expression, “He’s been spying on us, hasn’t he?”

Bendy nods his head back and forth like he’s teetering on the edge of what he wants to say. Cuphead had obviously hit the nail right on the head. Bendy tried his own poorly timed joke to lighten the mood, god they really were made for each other, “Probably be in bad form to lie to my husband, right?”

“The worst form, actually.”

“Right,” Bendy answers, nodding his head. The demon swings their hands a little quicker, making himself feel the connection. Cuphead deserved the truth, and Bendy could be safe in the fact his husband would likely not hate him for this. Probably. They’d be fine. Bendy looks him in the eye again, sounding upset at himself as he speaks, "How'd you think I ended up right in your path? Uh. Edgar had just debriefed me on your… issue. And I figured you would eventually want something to distract Mugman with.”

Now Cuphead wasn’t a person quick to anger. But he certainly didn’t like being spied on, especially such a personal conversation. He squeezed Bendy’s hand tight enough to show how serious he was, furrowing his brow. “You can’t do that anymore. Okay? That was none of your business and you know that.”

Bendy nodded, easily accepting the reprimand. He had known it was wrong, especially now that he knew he had been completely wrong about Cuphead. “I’ll call him off, It won’t happen again,” Bendy says, giving Cuphead a determined look. Then he continued, his voice almost entirely hopeful and stained at the edges with nerves, “I won’t need to ask someone else about you ever again. Because… I could just ask you.”

Cuphead nodded, feeling vindicated from the easy solution of the situation. Having a partner wasn’t bad at all, it felt like he only had half the work. Which was obvious why. He responded, sounding entirely too fond, “You got that right, Bends.”

The demon smiles up at him and then finally turns away to look back out at the town. Cuphead follows his gaze, with nothing else better to do. The stars seem to be shining brighter than they were before. A wind curled past them, sending a shiver up Bendy’s spine that shook even Cuphead's hand. Bendy speaks before the cup can comment, “I’m sorry about that.” The wind pulls a couple of leaves off of the olive tree and smacks Cuphead right in the face on their way past causing a wince. The movement made Bendy trace his eyes over Cuphead's bruised cheek with his eyes, frowning, “And I’m sorry about punching you.”

Cupheads about to shrug it off with a wave then the demon steps closer to him, leaning his free hand up to rest on Cuphead's face. The porcelain freezes, too scared to make an errant motion and have the demon take his hand back. But his stupid mouth can’t help but open, “Ain’t too bad. I’ve had worse.”

The frown that spreads across Bendy’s entire body is self-explanatory- that wasn’t the best answer he could’ve said. Though all mental remarks fade from his mind when Bendy starts to stroke a thumb over his bruise. The cup was looking down at him with wide eyes, like a deer caught in headlights but all of Bendy’s focus was on his husband's cheek.

“I’ll fix it for you as my full apology,” Bendy says with a nod of his head, then a low thrum of power fills the air. Cuphead tries to move away but Bendy holds him tightly, clenching their hands together. The demon looks focused as ink slowly starts to drip from his head like before in the dining room. It slides down half of his face, covering one of his eyes. And then it seeps from his fingers and onto the porcelain's skin.

Cuphead sucks in a breath and tries to lean away. Hadn’t they been getting along? What the hell was Bendy doing? Was he doing some weird devil brand on him? Cuphead's mind swept him away from reality, a whole life of fight or flight hadn’t really prepared him for kindness. Bendy goes with his lean, still lightly brushing his thumb along his cheek, spreading his ink. It was cool and sleek, sure to stain. It only made Cuphead more uneasy but once again he couldn’t bring himself to hurt Bendy even by wrenching himself out of his grasp. 

“Bendy, what are you doing?” Cuphead says, fighting against his own instincts. The cup reaches out with his other unoccupied hand to grab Bendy’s shoulder, slightly pushing him back by the arm that the demon is reaching out with. Breaking his focus Bendy glances over with his one uncovered eye. It shone and glimmered in the low light, like a night sky of its own. 

He relaxed his grip unconsciously, but still had his hand resting on Bendy’s shoulder. Bendy didn’t look like he was trying to kill him. And… that cool ink on his cheek was making the bruise feel slightly better. Or was it the soothing touch? He wasn’t sure.

“And…done. How's that feel?” Bendy says, dropping his hand back to his side. The ink slipped back with him and his face cleared of all of the ink after a moment. The sleek black fusing back into the demon's skin. Cuphead raised an eyebrow at him and Bendy just raised his own eyebrow back at his husband. The porcelain released Bendy’s shoulder and brought his hand up to rub against his cheek. Which actually felt way less tender.

“You got healing powers or something?” Cuphead asks, honestly amazed. Magic or anything close to it has always been used to harm others in his life. This includes himself of course. The porcelain's hand drops back to his side, he’d have reached out with it if they weren’t already attached by their other hands.

“Not exactly,” Bendy starts, nodding his head back and forth again. It seemed to be a habit of his that Cuphead had only just begin to notice. That and the constant flick of his tail, which, now that he’s thinking about it, is wrapped around Cuphead's leg and slightly shivering. This is unbeknownst to Bendy who continues to speak, “I can use my ink to form anything I wish or mutate something already existing.” 

It was really late now and they both should be in bed at this point. Mugs might wake up soon once he realizes the lack of a presence beside him. So he really should get back, he didn’t want to upset Mugman. But he really didn’t want to break the moment and he really didn’t want to let go. Just a few more minutes.

“I didn’t know you had magic,” He says, a little stupidly but oh well. He’d make a fool out of himself if Bendy kept talking. The porcelain glanced down to their entwined hands and admired the way they fit together. It felt like they could stay connected forever and not be any less for it. Damn, he was already becoming cheesy, he’s gonna have to keep that in check. 

“Well I didn’t know you had it coined,” Bendy shoots back, his mouth drawn up in a teasing grin. 

“Touché,” he responded with a grin of his own. Bendy was interesting. He’s said it before but he only kept finding more and more reasons to think it. It was immensely better when Bendy wasn’t mad at him and decided fully feeling was allowed for himself now. Cuphead was getting the feeling the demon had been holding back before now. Cuphead continued staring down at Bendy, taking it all in as he spoke, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, should I?”

“No. What’s more surprising is your magic,” Bendy says, giving him a less humorous look, “When were you gonna mention that?” 

“Eh. At some point,” Cuphead says, trying to get another smile out of the demon. Bendy put his free hand on his hip. Hey.. wait a minute. Cuphead pushes his own accusation back, “So I can’t hide my powers but you can? Hypocrite.”

Bendy broke his expression to chuckle but left his hand on his hip, shifting to the side and flicking his tail out in a circular motion. “Hm, guess we both have something to tell the other,” Bendy says, nodding his head toward his bedroom inside. “It’s too cold out here for a longer conversation, why don’t you come inside?” 

Oh but he needed to go back to his room, didn’t he? Mugs was waiting for him. Bendy is looking at him though and reason seems to fly out of his mind. It made him stupid. “Sure. Or we could stay out here, enjoy the night. I’ll just give you my coat, all gentleman-like,” Cups said, shrugging the shoulder attached to his free hand out of his coat. Ah but he didn’t want to let go of Bendy’s hand. Shit.

But here came Bendy with the save, reaching over to pull Cuphead's coat back up onto his shoulder. Straightening the collar unnecessarily, ghosting over where the porcelain's own hand was gripping. He looked up as he smoothed the fabric, humor dancing in his eyes. “If I wanted to wear your dirt covered rag you call a coat I’d ask. Lets go in,” He said the insult in a way that played it off as if it was something to be fond about.

“Ey! Leave my coat alone!” Cuphead fought back, sounding sort of like he might actually be offended. He’d lived his entire life in this thing, it deserved some respect. Cuphead flipped their conjoined hands around, pushing Bendy’s up to fold at the elbow. Then he took his other hand to wrap around his bicep, bending over to pretend to swoon. It looked entirely foolish and just so happened to cause his ‘filthy’ coat to rub on Bendy’s clean white shirt, which is exactly why he did it. Cuphead continues, “Then take me in I suppose, Angel.”

“Don’t call me that, “Bendy said, annoyed at more than one thing. Which is something he’s going to have to get used to having someone like Cuphead for a husband. The demon could deal with the closeness, it had been a long time since someone had grabbed him for a good reason. Even if he was getting muck along his shoulder. But the petname? Specifically that one? Abhorrent. 

“Nah I kinda like it. Suits you,” Cuphead teases, right, guess this is the start of his payback for being vulnerable. Bendy elbowed him with their conjoined arms, making Cuphead jump.

Well two could play that game, “Fine, honey cup, I have a place for us to sit inside.” Bendy tugs him forward ignoring the disbelieving chuckle from his spouse. They’re gonna make this a thing, aren’t they?

By Bendy’s standards, his room is a mess. Which he hadn’t thought of until he was escorting Cuphead through his balcony doors and under the swirling white linen curtains. His golden jewelry racks were missing pieces that laid all over his vanity. His made was unmade and his small meeting corner with the two accent chairs had their decorative pillows on the floor beside him. 

But to Cuphead it looked perfectly fine, way better than any room he’d ever lived in. What really caught his eye was the record player set up against the wall near the sitting area. “What kind of records ya got?” Cuphead wonders aloud, gesturing with his head to the player. 

“Why don’t you go see for yourself? I actually need to get something,” Bendy says, a little distracted as a thought occurs to him. He slides his elbow and hand away from Cuphead, and steps away toward his desk on the far wall.

The porcelain felt upset at the loss of contact for all of a second until he made it over to the shelf of records. He thumbed through them with interest. Most covers he didn’t recognize though each had very colorful pictures. Cuphead has sort of hoped he’d get Bendy to tell him the titles but it seems like the demon had other ideas. 

Then like a hilarious joke from the universe he flicks to the next record and immediately recognizes it. “Haha! No way!” Cuphead gasps, pulling out the very same record he had been playing in his room hours prior. “‘The daring young man on the flying trapeze!’ Bendy, you like this song?” He says as he pulls the record out of his covering, having already made his decision. 

Bendy is standing above his desk, clutching his notebook in his hands. It was full of sketches of dresses and suits, basically everything that he had made in the past year. Beyond that he had a stack of his former sketchbooks on the edge of his table going all the way from childhood.

He had been thinking about something since Edgar had told him what was going on, something he could do to possibly help cheer Mugman up. It was weird, he knew, but something deep inside of him wanted a family again. And that didn’t stop at just Cuphead. Or their future children. 

Only, he wasn’t so sure how Mugman would react to his idea. Bendy had planned to ask Cuphead over dinner but that had obviously been a shitshow. Now though… 

A familiar song starts up from the record player and Bendy finally turns around, notebook clutched in hand. The demon smiles a little at the Cup who is humming along to the song, unceremoniously flopping in one of the accent chairs. Bendy speaks as he walks over, “Figures you’d pick this. Yes, I do like this song, I find it funny more than anything though.”

“Eh, I think it’s the best song around, guess we can agree to disagree” Cuphead teases, putting his feet up on the coffee table. That only lasts all of a second before Bendy glares at his feet until the slide back to the floor. The demon sits across from him and then sets his notebook in front on the the coffee table.

“Cuphead, I actually have something I want to talk to you about, About Mug-”

“Heya, Mugs! Hey, Cuphead. How's my two favorite dorks doing?” Chalice shouts from the entrance of the bar. The red porcelain nearly jumps three feet in the air from the sound of his voice. Shit he’d been in his head, again. Was he really going senile like this so young?

Their cousin crawls over the bannister and down the wall, waving all the while. Her spidery form was the oddest of the family's new bodies. It might be due to her odd life and death thing, and that's pretty much all they could come up with. 

When Cuphead goes to wave to Chalice he realizes he’s been caught staring down at Mugman's veil by the man himself. His twin is giving him a searching look, flicking his gaze between his veil and Cup. The man swipes his hand away from the veil and brushes it off his thigh, now purposely focusing on Chalice, “Hey Chalice! Been awhile, eh?”

“Pfft, Shut up you numpty,” Chalice replies, finally reaching the bar and sitting down. Well, as close to sitting as she can be, resting her abdomen on the barstool and balancing. She's gotten good at it. She turns to Mugman, “What’s up with grump pants over here? Rise from the wrong side of the coffin today?”

“No. Chalice. I’m fine I promise,” Mugman answered, shifting his intrusive gaze away from his twin- much to Cuphead's relief. Though now his expression is turned to Chalice, much less amused than she would hope, “And enough with the dead jokes they’re only funny when you’ve been dead too long.”

Chalice frowns and rolls her eyes good-naturedly, leaning back to cross a couple of her legs. “Tough crowd I suppose. Oh well,” She says, sticking her tongue out at the end. She then turns to the bartender, “Hey Zooble hit me with an Aperol Spritz, will ya? Oh and it’s on the house right? Ain’t got nothing but cobwebs.”

“You know damn well by now I don’t charge anything, Chal,” Zooble grumbles but grabs a shot of vodka to start it off. This makes Cuphead realize he’s been neglecting good booze, which has likely been on the counter in front of him for who knows how long.

“So Chalice, what have you been up to lately?” Cuphead asks over the lip of his drink, finally taking his first sip of the night. 

“Same old, same old. Nothing ever happens down here. It was much better when I could come and go as I pleased,” Chalice answers, tapping one of her hands on the counter melodically. But at least for her the loss of her body meant that the Devil couldn’t have any more claim on her soul. Since her not being alive meant that his side of the deal fell through. 

She was exactly the reason they were able to squeeze out of hell, her having seen it a couple times now and having the freedom to go undetected. But for them? Keeping them undetected lied solely on Elder Kettle. Who seemingly knew a couple more potions than the original one he had given them to awaken their powers. From there the plan had fallen right into place.

“Any bad news?” Mugman asks, always one to get to the point. Due to the twins being in hiding they couldn’t keep an eye out for themselves, the responsibility falling to Chalice. At least in the afterlife and limbo they could be sure they wouldn’t be found. But who knows what he was doing elsewhere, well, Chalice did. Or was supposed to.

“Not that I’ve heard of. My dear with an ear hasn’t sent anything lately except the basics,” Chalice says, opening her hand as Zooble slides the widow her drink. Mugman shifted a little towards her and focused on what she was saying but all it made Cuphead do was produce a shit-eating grin. Chalice unfortunately doesn’t see it until it's too late and continues, “Just something about some friend of hers getting a deal, wasn’t really listening, y'know?"

“Glad your girlfriend is on our side,” Cuphead teases, curling his hands under his chin. The scrunch of his lower jaw unfortunately squeezes his right out and it rolls down the bar and into Mug's wrist. It completely ruins his joke and he scrambles after it, “Ah c’mon!”

“Instant karma, Cuphead. Instant,“ Mugman says, picking up the eye and setting it in his brother's open palm. It seems Cuphead making a fool out of himself still can get Mugman to smile. Though it seems that most things these days bring him down, losing his life before he could truly live. The entire Kettle family had seen it, spent nights after they had arrived in limbo consoling the poor guy. 

“Damn straight,” Chalice says, picking out the orange from her drink with a toothpick. She flicks the toothpick at Cuphead with an evil grin, hitting him in the ribcage. It slides down his bones like a grim xylophone. Chalice frowns now, responding to Cuphead taunt fully, “And she ain’t my girlfriend Cupface.”

“Whatever you say, cousin,” Cuphead answers and lets go of the topic. Whatever he gave would just be given tenfold by Chalice and complimented with a little tap dance to boot. He glances over at the bars stage as a familiar group of skeletons step up on it. A short one with a trombone, a tall one with a xylophone attached to him with a red scarf, and one with scars down his face dragging a cello behind him. 

The stage was small and poorly lit but had amazing acoustics for a band. At least that's what Gaster had told him when he was first invited to join. Cuphead had made an impression on the father and sons trio with his piano skills shortly after arriving. And subsequently became a part of the merry band. It was an amalgamation of instruments but they could coax something good sounding every once and a while. 

Cuphead mainly adored them because it kept him close to music and that kept him closer to Bendy. He was even whipping up a song for Bendy when he finally found his way down her. Decades down the line he hopes. But for now he’d practice.

“Hey, Chal. How about a song to make it up to ya?” Cuphead says gesturing at the band. The Skeletones as they call themselves, much to Papyrus’ dismay, were now setting up for a couple of songs. And Cuphead itched to join them.

“We all know you’re gonna ditch us for your mid-death crisis band anyway,” Chalice jokes, a little harshly but that was on brand for her. She waves her hands at Cuphead, 5 of them at least, “Shoo!”

The red twin just tips his hat at her, bowing ever so slightly. He eyes his brother, hat in hand, “Wanna join this time Mugs? A violin would be a nice compliment.” He already knew the answer but he was stubborn enough to ask again. 

“No, I'm good Cuphead. Play me something good though,” Mugman answers, swirling his drink in his hand. At some point he had taken his axe and bouquet out of his belt loops. And now he was looking down at them absentmindedly, eyes flicking between them.

Cuphead and Chalice frown at each other over Mugman's head but say nothing more, this was his battle. They could try all day to comfort him but words wouldn’t help. The red porcelain puts his bony hand on his brother's shoulder, squeezing it tightly.

“You betcha, Mugs. I got the perfect song for ya,” Cuphead answered, patting Mugman's shoulder once before leaving. As he walked away he fidgeted with his too tight hat, trying to once more precariously balance on top of his cup.

Chalice leans down on the counter of the bar, sliding her empty drink away as she does. She looks up at her cousin with a frown, then reaches out to poke his cheek with one of her many hands. Chalice sounds worried when she speaks, “You good Mugsy?”

Chalice eyes the bouquet next to head nervously. It was dead now but it held a sort of beauty that Mugman seemed to always carry with him now. Chalice used to be ethereal too, when she was a kid, but she’d evidently lost the charm. Mugs had grown into it, especially in death. 

“Chalice,” he says, seriously. Chalice looks back up at him immediately, awaiting his word. Mugman seems at odds with himself, like he’s been debating on whether or not to ask this. All that does is make the widow brace for impact. Finally Mugman finds his words, looking Chalice in the eye, “Have you heard anything about… Him?”

She’s silent. And that’s all the answer he needs. Mugman looks away from her, now looking at the axe with pure hatred. That Man had gotten away with it and would likely never face justice because of the shitbox town they had lived in. 

He knew Chalice had the same hate for him, for stealing their lives. But she didn’t feel the sting of betrayal like he did. He had trusted Him. Mugs had given up his walls for what turned out to be the cruelest manipulation possible. 

“I’m sorry, Mugs,” She says, sitting back up to reach out to him. Chalice leans out of her seat and wraps Mugman tightly in her arms, squeezing him like she string the bad thoughts dancing around his head by force.

Mugman accepts it, leaning his head against her shoulder. His broken face bends with the pressure, pushing the two parts back together with a slating noise. One of his hands comes up to hold her arms in place, never one to reject a hug from his cousin as she gives them out so rarely. 

“Me too,” Mugs answers, squeezing her right back. A song starts up behind them, a simple jazz beat. Some sort of warmup Mugmans is sure. Eventually Chalice lets him go, holding him by the shoulders for a moment before sitting back down. 
There's a crash from the other side of the bar, behind where Zooble had been standing. They startled and whipped around at the sound, matching around the circular bar to see what was going on. Chalice sits up as well, more interested in seeing what happened than solving it. Even Mugman titled his head to get a look. What they saw was a little bit…odd.

An entirely pink young woman was currently smashed through a table, stars spinning around her head. Like completely pink; from her hair to her skin to every item of clothing she wore. And right beside her on the floor was an aged cowboy, face down and defeated. They looked like they were at least some sort of package deal, if their matching cowboy outfits said anything.

It seemed like they had just jumped from the balcony above and fallen into the table. For whatever reason. Zooble had walked over them and picked the pink one up by her armpits. She had a garish pink cowboy hat with holes for her pigtails to poke out. The man was slowly getting up as well, looking worse than his counterpart. The girl, for her part, is now sheepishly waving at the bartender.

“Hey Zooble… we were just trying out your new table!” She starts, swinging her legs a little in the other's grasp. Mugs squinted his eyes to see what seemed to be a heart shaped gemstone in her chest that caught in the light as she moved with a large crack right down the middle. The girl looked over to her partner, “Not sturdy at all! Right, Arthur?”

“Shut up, Spinel. You already got me in this bullshit, I’m not lying for you too,” Arthur spits back, standing to his full height with a hand on his back. His skin was splotchy in most parts and his skin was purple. The general sign for organ failure in the underworld Mugman had come to find. 

“I’m not laughing, both of you need to cool it with the dumb shit- this is the fourth time this week you’ve broken something on a dare,” Zooble says, finally setting down Spinel. The girl falls into a spiral of her own limbs like an unruly firehose. 

“But there's nothing else fun to do down here! We can’t even die so might as well try out everything!” Spinel retorts, now using her body to spring herself up onto Arthur's shoulder. Much to the gruff man's outward annoyance, though he doesn’t shove her off. 

“Don’t do it in my damn bar anymore or you’re getting kicked, Capiche?” Zooble says, shaking a fist at the two troublemakers. Before they can answer the bartender turns back around and marches back to the bar. 

This didn’t have much of an effect on Mugman, it seems there was more and more insanity in here by the day. And he wanted no part in it. But Chalice? She loved trouble.

“Hey uh, Mugs. Say, why don’t we go over and talk to those interesting folks?” Chalice says, her eyes sparkling as she gazed over at the duo. Who were now yelling at each other and throwing punches. Joy.

“I think I would rather die again, you go have fun,” Mugman says. See? He can make tone deaf jokes too. He looks up at Chalice to give her a smile to show her it was actually ok. He wanted to be left alone for a couple of minutes anyway.

Chalice nods her head, and pats Mugman again before leaving. She skidded over to Spinel and Arthur just as they finally seemed to stop fighting. They had gone over to a new table and were seemingly setting up a card game. Always onto the next thing, wasn’t she? Even death couldn’t stop her. 

Death hadn’t changed them as much as he first feared. Elder Kettle still watched soaps on the couch for hours, Cuphead still joked and played the piano like a dream, Chalice still stuck her nose in every business. And Mugman? He was still alone. Unloved. That hadn’t changed at all. 

Mugman laid his head down on the bar, shoving his axe and bouquet to either side of his head. The Skeletones started playing something more complicated, it was nice. But not enough to take his mind off of himself. The bar counter was sticky, despite the many attempts to keep it clean by the attendants, and it stuck on his veil. Luckily his porcelain skin made it hard for his face to stick to it, though it left an uncomfortable residue. 

His soul liquid, much less than he had in life, slowly leaked out onto the counter from the wound between his eyes. A small reminder that he’d never breathe again, never truly live ever again. Sometimes he hated how well the rest of his family seemed to be taking this. Even though he could see Cuphead struggling in those long pauses he’s never had before, his twin was fine. He’d thrown himself into the band. Into waiting for his husband. Into learning to read and write for his husband. Cuphead had a purpose.

He didn’t. Hadn’t since the Devil had thrown them away, they had become slow and weak in his eyes. Soon after Cuphead had gotten married.Too annoying to be worth the struggle and all he wanted was their children, to continue the cycle. Mugman's hands curled up in anger. After that he had no idea what to do with his life. And once again. Cuphead had moved on. He didn’t stay stuck like Mugman did, forever trapped in his own head.
Mugman wished he could take it on the cheek, make something of his life without orders to kill from the Devil. But he couldn’t. So when He came along and promised to love him? How could he say no. He had nothing. With Him he’d have something, no matter how much it disgusted him. Mugman needed love so bad that he got it from the first person that offered it. At least, it felt like love for the brief time He had ‘courted’ Mugs. 

Stupid. He was stupid. Trusting someone like that had been the most foolish thing he had done his whole life. And it’d been entirely his fault. 

The veil felt heavy now, slipping between his knuckles as he clenched his hands. Mugman felt suffocated and people's voices pounding against his calm didn’t help. But, he immediately felt bad seeing his veil as a burden. The veil was a show of his family’s love for him and belief that he’d find a purpose. A promise that Cuphead would still be with him even as he had moved on.

As he thought about that memory he felt himself start to relax again. The entire suit was like a hug around his body, tailored perfectly down to his gloves that still stubbornly stretched over his boney hands. But he guesses that was the point of the veil and suit when it was made, to reassure him he had love.

 It had been a kind gift from his brother in law, the first and last he had ever received from Bendy. He’d cherish it forever.

It had been a boring day. Mugman had moved back in with Elder Kettle a week ago now, sleeping in his childhood bedroom. They still kept the bunk bed all these years and Mugman had no heart to throw it away even if Cuphead was no longer with him. Sometimes he would look out from his top bunk, turning his ear into the pillow. Imagine that just below him he could still hear his brother’s soft snoring and all Mugman would have to do to reach him would be hanging his hand over the side of his bed.

He lived that fantasy and every morning he would lay and listen to memories. That was until Elder Kettle called him down for breakfast. Lately Mugs went down later and later, he knew it was worrying his pops but he couldn’t stop it. He felt stagnant. The only light he saw most days from the window at the head of the bunkbed, curtains drawn back with homemade hooks. 

“Mugman! Come down!” Elder Kettle called, it seemed it was that time of day. Mugman would have to wake up and accept reality. The porcelain sighed and rolled off of the bed, using his hands on the edge of his bed to lessen the shock of his landing. Unfortunately it framed the lower bunkbed between his two arms, empty, of course. Neither him nor Elder Kettle had made the bed, leaving it the way Cuphead had when he had woken up that last morning in the house. 

He sighed and then took a shaky inhale of breath. Mugman really was getting pathetic. He turned away from the bunk bed and picked up his brown pants from the floor. He pulled them over his bed clothes and snatched his cleanly pressed dark blue button up from the hook on the bedroom door. Mugs heads out while stuffing his arms into the shirt, calling out to his pops, “Coming, Elder Kettle!”

Padding through the halls past his grandfather's war trophies he comes to the edge of the stairs. Mugman looks down at his chest as he works on buttoning his shirt up, taking slow steps down the stairs. So when a huge ball of muscle and love rams into the front of his legs to greet him he nearly falls backwards. Mugman lets out a small squeak before he steadies himself, putting his hands out for balance. Spike takes that as an opportunity to press his head up into Mugs’ hand, damn dog. 

Spike was the big bruiser of a bulldog Elder Kettle had adopted recently and he adored his owner. The dog wasn’t the tallest Mugman has seen but he was an absolute wall of muscle with a mean face to boot. Which was the exact opposite of the dog's personality. Spike was very loving and when he wasn’t sleeping the entire day he was chasing out vagrant mice and cats. The bulldog had immediately taken a shine to Mugman as soon as he moved back in which meant the porcelain got the full brunt of his cuddling.

Everytime he so much as dared to sit on the couch Spike would come along and lay in his lap, refusing to move. Elder Kettle had even gotten jealous of HIS dog's blatant favoritism for his boy. Like Mugman had asked to be slobbered over all day. He patted Spike on his head, giving up, “Good morning to you too, Spike.”

The porcelain shoved the dog away with his sock covered foot and continued his way into the living room. The delicious smell of pancakes wafted from the kitchen, where he could hear his pops humming an upbeat tune. Spike pushed past him and back into the kitchen like a blur of grey fur when Elder Kettle whistled for him. Mugman used his last seconds of quiet to stuff his shirt into his pants then finally sucked it up and walked into the kitchen as well. 

His grandfather was swaying in front of the stove waving his spatula around like a baton. It brought a smile to Mugman's face and he cleared his throat, making Elder Kettle peer at him over his shoulder. The kettle waved his spatula at Mugman, Spike following it with his eyes as he sat at his feet, “Good morning, Mugman! How many pancakes this morning?”
Fully in the room now Mugman stepped up to the small kitchen table in the corner of the room, pulling out a chair for himself. His chair since childhood. He stopped himself from glancing over at his brother's empty chair. Mugman rested his head in his hand, staring right at his grandfather, “Three please. Feed my fourth to Spike for me.”

Spike perks up at his name, looking between his family like he’s waiting to see who wants him. Elder Kettle abides his boy's request and grabs a cooled-off pancake. He whistles at Spike and then throws the fluffy cake into Spike's maw, never to be seen again. Mugman huffs out a laugh, spoiled rotten. The porcelain bends around in his chair reaching out to the shelf behind him to find his current book. A comedic mystery series Bendy had inadvertently hooked him 2 months ago. 

Mugman pulled it out with a single finger and brought it to rest in front of him on the table, flipping it open to the bookmark he had left. A garish blue paisley that his brother had made for him out of fabric scraps from his husband. Mugman took it out but kept it in his hand, stroking his thumb up and down it for comfort. It didn’t help much, nothing did, not even seeing Cuphead in person seemed to push the darkness away anymore. And now he’s been staring at a page he can’t even read without his glasses for two minutes.

“Hey, Mugman. Got word from your brother this morning,” Elder Kettle speaks, walking over with two plates of pancakes. Spike walks beside him, supporting his weak leg. It seems the old man was using his cane less and less due to Spike being a more adorable crutch than the latter. Mugman looks up from his book, accepting his own plate on autopilot but focusing on what the kettle was saying. His pops sat down with a huff and then dropped his plate in front of him, speaking as he did so, “Says he has a surprise for you over at the Manor.”

Mugman tilts his head, frowning, “Really? Did he say what?” It wasn’t like his brother to hide anything, he hated surprises especially when he was the one to keep the secret. But maybe that had changed too, unbeknownst to him. Spike nosed at his hands, which hung on his knees under the table. 

“No. Just that he wanted you over as soon as possible,” The kettle answered, a little too bland to not be suspicious. Elder Kettle knew what was going on and he just wasn’t going to tell Mugman the surprise. So it was important enough that his gramps was willing to lie about it. 

“Alright. After breakfast I’ll go,” Mugman answers, looking down at his plate of food. Pancakes and some scrambled eggs. Delicious but his stomach was rolling with nerves. He felt foolish again, like he often did these days. Why did he always have to over react? He clears his throat, “Have you seen my glasses? I think I left them down here.”

“Sure I have,” He responds easily, digging in his back pocket for a second. Elder Kettle digs out a pair of glasses, his own, and sets them on the table. They’re gold framed pince-nez, the same he’s worn his entire life. Might explain his constant scowl with the way you had to furrow your brow to keep them on. If Mugs had a pair like that he’d probably be driven crazy. Luckily Elder Kettle dug out his own from another pocket, sliding them over to his boy. 

“Thanks. And thanks for breakfast,” Mug says, picking up the glasses and tucking them in his breast pocket. They both dig in after that, Spike laying down on both of their feet. If they spoke about something it had been forgotten in Mugman's memory. It likely would have felt hollow anyway. Mugman didn’t smile easily anymore and Elder Kettle could only carry the conversations so much. 

It hurt that he was snuffing his Grandfather but nothing had felt right those days. There was no one for him, and only him. Even Elder Kettle had someone else, even if that was a dog. He didn't feel needed. 

On the way to the manor his mind continued to play with him, ripping apart his psyche. Mugman breathed shakily, focusing his view on the cobblestones. 

They were dependent on each other, Mugman knew, but he had never imagined how bad it was until now. He felt itchy without his brother by his side, like a phantom limb geared to Cuphead's presence. And every time he visited, which was basically 3 times a week at this point, he could see that his brother didn’t feel the same as he did. Cuphead was relieved to see him every time but didn’t hover by him like Mugman wished he would. Celestials knew how Mugman wanted to glue their arms together. But no. He keeps his distance like a normal person, instead standing by Bendy.

Somewhat selfishly Mugman had always imagined that if they ever got separated Cuphead would have been the one to struggle without him. The red twin has always been dangerously protective of Mugs, sometimes staying up during dangerous missions to make sure nothing harmed Mugman during the night. Cuphead would give him his coat in a snow storm to make sure his brother didn’t freeze. 

By all accounts Mugman was Cuphead's crutch too; reading everything for him, cooking for him, saving his ass when he flung himself into awful situations. But Mugman had underestimated his brother, something he hated when anyone else had done it before him. Now though? He understands it. Cuphead didn’t make sense. 
And here he was, left grasping at threads on his own. He had always been the weak one, and this only made it more apparent. In truth all he had was his mind. But that very mind was caving in on itself and going stagnant after strategizing for decades. A self destruction. 

There was a tap on his shoulder that took him out of reverie. Feeling half-dead only an hour into the day Mugman slowly turned to see who had disturbed him. Only the assailant severely worsened his day just upon seeing him. Bowlboy. Goddamnit he hated this guy. He should just turn back around and walk away.

“Hello, Mugman! My, it’s been ages, hasn’t it?” Bowlboy comments, sticking his hand out to shake. It hovers unmet for almost a whole moment as Mugman glares straight forward at Bowlboys rim, unamused. The bowl finally drops his hand, giving up. Instead he uses his hands to straighten his bright red bowtie.

“It has. I’d like to keep it that way,” Mugman answered with a snap, trying to turn away. He’s stopped before he can even make it a step by gloved hand and spun back around. Mugman was still taller than Bowlboy by a couple inches but the short man was wider, though this was not due to any sort of muscle mass. Mugman gave him the sharpest glare he could, but Bowlboy skirted right around it, much to Mugman's annoyance.

“You don’t like me. And I get that,” Bowlboy started off, removing his hand from Mug's arm holding it out placatingly. His eyebrows were turned up innocently as he spoke, projecting sincerity. Still his voice was grating, “But I want to offer my congratulations.”

Mugman narrowed his eyes, “What are you talking about?” The blue porcelain crossed his arms defensively, not yet knowing if Bowlboy was trying to poke fun at him. No matter how sweet he looked, Mugman knew his heart. Even if it had been years since they last spoke. The bowl had disappeared without so much as a note when they were teens, it made him wonder what had brought him back now.

“For your marriage, of course!” Bowlboy spoke, giving him a wide smile. His hands spread out between them, like he was holding his wonder in his own hands. They were covered in pristine white gloves, unlike the twins' yellow work gloves. Actually his whole get up was fancy, a dark green waist coat and a tail coat to match. White spats covered his feet and sleek dress shoes.

He visibly winced at the words, drawing back into himself even further. What an unfortunate misconception. Now Mugman would have to go out of his way to explain to his childhood enemy that, no, actually no one loves him and it was his brother who was married. Amazing. 

“You’re mistaken. Cuphead’s married, not me,” Mug finally says, his voice tight. The courage he had to gather to say just that was embarrassing. He looks away from the other man, starting to walk away again. His arms are still crossed, holding his chest and squeezing out breaths. Mugman continues, forgetting his manners entirely, “Please leave me alone.”

Bowlboy at least looks sheepish at his mistake, staying back when Mugman starts to walk off. But, oh, if only Bowlboy could ever let sleeping dogs lie, “Oh! Are you going there now? Could I join you?” The bowl ran a little to catch up, strolling at Mugman's side now. He had a goofy smile, innocent.

“No. Go away,” The mug snaps again, speeding up his walk hoping to lose the other. That doesn’t work, Bowlboy speeding up to stay by his side. At least the other man had enough sense to be out of strangling range. 

The shorter man's eyes narrow in thought and he tilts his head. Mugman turns fully away, gazing out at the harbor beside them, trying to draw strength from the calming waves. Finally Bowlboy seems to have found a solution, squeezing his fist in triumph in front of him, “Will you let me walk you there then?”

Waves aren’t enough to earn him patience, so he gives up entirely. At least he’d leave once he got to the manor…hopefully. Celestials, Bowlboy should have stayed gone Mugman sighs, already feeling a migraine, “If that's what you really want, Fine. Just be quiet.”

“Wonderful! You won’t even know I’m here!” Bowlboy said excitedly, and Mugman very much doubted it. The bowl notices the others scowl and makes a show of zipping his mouth and locking it, stowing the mimed key in his breast pocket. 

Rolling his eyes, Mugman resolved to ignore him for the rest of the walk, no matter if he spoke or not. Bowlboy was the same as he had been when they were kids. Mugman remembers how disturbing he was and how when the twins had gone against the Devil Bowlboy hadn’t ever bothered to check on them. He even had the same freckles as he did when he was young, covering his entire face.

But what he had said had struck a cord deep inside of Mugman, the same one that rang when he was alone with his thoughts too long. And he felt like a broken record repeating it; no one loved him- not like how he wanted. No one had seen him as a suitable person to spend their lives with, not for twenty seven years. Bowlboy hadn’t even intentionally said it and it had completely sent him for a spiral.

There he went again with his stupid feelings. Happiness felt so far away for him, even though he felt awful saying it. 

“Mugman,” Bowlboy breaks the silence after only five minutes, he knew it. Though his voice is less amicable than before, serious. It didn’t matter to Mugman either way.

“Shut up-”He hissed before he was cut off decisively.

“No. I need to say this,” The bowl asserted, looking deeply into Mugman's eyes when he turned to glare at him. There was a fiery determination in Bowlboys eyes that he hadn’t ever seen in him before, his hands folded at his front. 

“What?” The abrupt change in tone and demeanor blew Mugman off kilter. Bowlboy had never been one to purposely tread on others toes, more likely to grate on their nerves until they exploded. This wasn’t that by any means.

The yellow porcelain held eye contact but seemed to be gathering his words. This was something heavy, Mugman could sense it. Not that he really cared, this was Bowlboy after all. The bowl nodded to himself and steamrolled on past his turmoil,“I owe a lot to you twins. My life is the least of it. Have you ever wondered why I ran away?”

Now that took Mugman aback all again. Sure he had always been curious but he never expected Bowlboy to answer it so quickly. The surprise from the situation shocked him out of his defenses, curiosity taking over, “...Yes.”

Finally Bowlboy looked away, looking ashamed. It just made Mugman more curious, what was he about to hear? He’d never seen his childhood enemy as anything other than a nuisance until now. THis building suspense made him a mystery he longed to solve. Like a purpose. Through Mugman's brain fog he listened intently to what Bowlboy said next, “When you and Cuphead were after those contracts all those years ago- I felt awful. There you two were, fighting for your lives, the isles well-being. And I couldn’t do anything but watch. Because I was weak.”
 Huh. Wow. Mugman scrambled to respond,"Bowlboy, you don’t have to say this. It’s long past.” Truthfully though, he felt vindicated. All those years of hatred for Bowlboy never respecting them, never caring about them despite growing up with the twins being confirmed. And then burned away. It was an amazing feeling. Nice. 

Bowlboy shook his head, looking back up at Mugman as he continued to speak, “But I want to! You two were my heroes and I couldn’t do a damn thing. I was too ashamed to even thank you when you finally won. So I ran away.” By now they had drifted closer to each other, only a foot between them as Mugman leaned in to listen.

Still, that last sentence didn’t make complete sense. There was a reason they were still enslaved under the Devil even if they might not have to kill anymore due to the deal changing. Mugman frowned at Bowlboy, feeling more sad than angry now,“We still failed. You know that, we never broke free ourselves.”

“But you saved so many! Never forget that,” Bowlboy defends, courageously reaching out to hold Mugman's shoulder. It was a gamble that paid off well, Mugman looking quizzical instead of upset. Was this who Bowlboy truly was? Bowlboy went on, oblivious to Mugman's internal struggle, “Well, all that to say; I decided then and there to become a better man, to properly show how much your sacrifice meant to me and to thank you both properly.”

 This was too much, this couldn’t be right. Had he been missing out on this amazing friend due to some stupid childhood annoyances? It made him irrationally angry, defensive all over again, “Are you joking right now? If so I don’t find it funny, Bowlboy. Far as I was aware you never cared about us.” His voice went small on the last sentence, the realization that he was yelling at an honest man dampening his anger by miles. He felt horrible.

The bowl tightened his hold on Mugman's shoulder, trying to articulate how much he meant this,“I’m not joking! I promise you, I care so, so, much. Please understand, Mugman.” Bowlboy shook his head at himself, mind seemingly spinning to find the words. It was endearing. He starts and stops several times before speaking again, “I’m sorry my cowardice drove me away for so long.”

Mugman could scarcely believe this, no way this was the same boy he knew from before. But that was exactly what Bowlboy was saying. He had changed. Maybe it was time Mugman changed too, especially if Bowlboy was reaching out like this. It had been the most someone had cared about his opinion in years, it was exhilarating. Mugman spoke, setting his own hand on top of Bowlboys,“I believe you. I’m sorry for my… everything I suppose.”

“No- not at all! I understand your reaction,” Bowlboy reassures, removing his hand from Mugman's shoulder, slow enough not to knock the mug's hand away. How sweet. Bowlboy tucks his hands in his pockets seemingly physically stopping himself from reaching out again. He tilts his head back at Mugman, “This whole conversation feels like maybe I should leave Cuphead alone.”

Mugman feels a smile cross his face, unbridled. What a fool he was.“That might be for the best,” He responds, sure Cuphead would turn the other way upon seeing Bowlboy. Oh well, more for him. …What?? Did he just think that???  Mugman ignores his own thoughts by speaking, “But I am glad that you came back. I suppose. And I accept your apology.”

“I’m so glad!” Bowlboy says, shifting on his feet as he walks swayong side to side. He looked happy. Then he suddenly got a look on his face, like he had just remembered something important. He digs in his inner coat pocket before pulling out a large vibrant orange lily.  He held it out to Mugman, looking a bit awkward, “Uhm. Here. Take this as a token of my gratitude.”

Mugman felt himself flush, a flower? He had never been given flowers before, nevermind such a beautiful one. This was like some sort of fairy tail, something right out of his books. Mugman reaches out to gently take the flower from Bowlboys hand, smiling crookedly like he was unsure if he could be happy, “It’s beautiful. Where did you get it?”

Bowlboy winks at him, nearly making the poor mug fall over in shock,“I’ll never tell.” He even accompanied that with a finger gun, ridiculous. Well, maybe not that foolish. Mugman felt himself growing a stubborn liking to this bowl. Bowlboy whirled around, facing the other way and gave him one last look, “Well, I suppose I’ll see you around. Goodbye, dear friend.”

Did he really have to go? Mugman held the orange lily close to his chest, wanting to sink it into his heart forever. He grasped onto this little kindness like a drowning man. Mugman raised his hand to wave goodbye,“Goodbye, Bowlboy. And thank you.”

The bowl waves at him over his shoulder, walking away without another word. Wow…. That was… so weird?? And amazing at the same time. Maybe this wasn’t the awful day it had been lining up to be. He hadn’t felt this happy in a while. Not even with Cuphead. As awful as that was. 

The whole rest of the way to the Darling manor he clutched that flower close to him, now gripping it with both hands, replaying the conversation in his head. He should’ve been kinder. Bowlboy hadn’t deserved his spite. Especially after how kind he had just been to him. Mugman swore he’d make it up to him somehow.

He didn’t even realize he had arrived until he nearly rammed himself right into the door, stopping himself just in time. Mugman adjusts himself for a few steading moments, finding he didn’t need as many as he thought he would’ve. Must be his better mood. The mug knocks on the front door, three quick raps, and waits for Charley. 

Charley had become a sort of acquaintance to the mug, though they didn’t speak much. Well, they didn’t really need to play a game of chess. Apparently none of the other staff or members of the household cared much about it so Mugman was his only option. That led to almost daily games before Mugman left. It was nice but stilted.

The front door creaks open fully, Charley recognizing the knock and forgoing his usual peaking through a slightly open door thing. They were long past that. The butler was in his usual get up, a full suit pressed to perfection. And his usual countenance, a scowl no matter his internal emotions. 

“Goodmorning, Kettle,” Charley greets, a nod of recognition. The same as always. The strict formality had stopped grating on his nerves a little bit ago, It was just a part of Charley’s character. Mugman stepped inside, nodding back to the man holding open the door. 

Charley was currently holding his personal checklist clipboard. And, yes, during their chess sessions Mugman had gotten around to asking him why he had so many. He explained it as a way to have less clutter on each clipboard and only have the things he needed for each task on it. Mugs could understand that, and seeing how full of papers just one of them was, well that was the final nail in the explanation that he needed. 

“Goodmorning, Charley, I’m here to visit Cuphead, he said he had a surprise for me. Do you happen to know what it is?” Mugman asked, knowing damn well Charley knew everything about anything in these walls. Probably had something written down on his current intake clipboard right now. Charley refused to be careless in his records after all. 

Charley raised an eyebrow at him, shutting the front door decisively. He stepped forward and gave his answer, slowly escorting Mugman upstairs, “I do know why you’re here. Impossible not too. That's all I've heard for two months straight.” The butler's voice was a little bitter but mostly just his usual static bad attitude.

Now that was a big hint. Which Mugman hadn’t really been expecting. Well, it was more a complaint but it allowed him to have some sort of starting place. What the mug failed to notice was the inquisitive look at the orange lily that was clutched in his hand.  Mugman answered, “Alright, I suppose I’ll see myself in a minute.”

“Hm,” Charley replied, unamused. They had only made it halfway up the central staircase before he heard a flurry of footsteps from the left wing. Mugman barely had time to look over in the direction of the noise before his brother came speeding out from the hallway. Charley jumped back and clutched his clipboard to his chest, taking a big step to the side.

“MUGSY!!!!!” Cuphead shouts, hands up in the air. Celestials, he really was excited today. Mugman was normally only greeted with an excruciatingly tight hug not a yell. And oh wait- Cuphead incoming shit. Before he could even respond Cuphead had darted down the steps and lunged at his twin, pulling him into a tight, tight, hug. 

Mugman let out a bark of nervous laughter and then a grunt as Cuphead lifted him clean off the ground. What the hell!? Mugman could feel the air getting squeezed out of him and he quickly hugged Cuphead back, tapping his shoulder desperately. “Cups.. let me go, you're suffocating me..” Mugman says only a little hoarse. 

With one last squeeze Cuphead drops him back onto his feet but doesn’t let him get far away, clasping his hand in front of their chests with a loud clap. Luckily it hadn’t been the hand containing the gift from Bowlboy, the flower safe at his side and away from Cuphead's line of sight, for now. Mugman holds their combined hands tightly with his own, slightly shaking with the intensity of the grip. 

“Sorry, it’s just good to see ya’,” Cuphead responds, letting go of Mugman after a long moment. He steps back and up a step on the staircase, setting his hands on his hips. It only brings attention to his, admittedly, very fashionable outfit. Bendy has been slowly colonizing his brother's wardrobe and it's become entirely obvious by this point. Mugman stares down at the outfit with a little bit of an eyebrow raise. He wouldn’t have caught Cuphead dead in an outfit without his trench coat before he married Bendy.

Cuphead is wearing loose brown leather pants that are low on his waist, the edges of each seam colored in a lighter brown patina. Aged to perfection, likely a vintage piece. Paired with that was a light red button up with the three top buttons undone, the shirt had small barely there stripes vertically down the garment. Cuphead had rolled the sleeves, and Mugman knew it was Cuphead and not Bendy, and had compiled the most garish ensemble of gold bracelets to line both of his wrists. It almost completely destroyed the rest of the outfit.

“Hm. I think I'd appreciate seeing you more if you weren’t wearing such an eyesore,” Mugman retorts, gesturing obviously down at his brother's wrists. Despite his outward appearance the mug could feel his hard fought joy slowly start to drain out of him. It was a reminder of the distance between them that Cuphead had changed so much without him. He clenched the flower in his hand. He was being selfish again, damn it.

Cuphead gasps dramatically, holding a hand to his chest, “How dare you! I fought hard to wear these things this morning! I think Bendy has been waiting all day for a chance to yank ‘em off.” The last part comes out in a conspiratory whisper. The cup moves his wrists to stand upright in front of his chest, showing off his questionable choices proudly. At least he was happy, that much was obvious. Which only drove the self-hate deeper.

“Whatever you say, Cuphead,” Mugman replied, a little too resigned in a way that even Cuphead could pick up on. His brother drops his wrists and glances over Mugman, his eyes almost immediately catching on the bright flower carefully held in Mugman's right hand. 

He indicated it was a flick of his pointer finger, “What’s that Mugs? You go flower picking on your way here or something?” Cuphead was still smiling but less excited, lowering his energy so he could be more present for Mugman. Great. Now he had ruined the mood. A glance to the side let him see that Charley still stood beside them both, now glancing between the two, rapt. Cuphead notices it too and waves Charley off, “I got this big man, uh, you’re released.”

Charley frowned but nodded his head, obviously he had been hoping for something to share with the rest of the staff. Really they were quite literally the nosiest people Mugman had ever met. The butler steps down the stairs and off into the side room beside the front door. 

Mugman looks back at his twin when the door clicks shut, wondering to himself if he should lie or not. Maybe he wanted this to himself for just a little bit longer. Cuphead was giving him an open expression, tilting his chin down just slightly. Mugman shook his head, “No, It was a gift from a friend I saw on the way here. … I’ll tell you about it later, okay”

“Sure thing, Mugs,” Cuphead says, looking a little confused at the ambiguity. But he leaves it alone and turns around on the stairs, gesturing for Mugman to follow. The blue twin frowns a little at his brother's back, letting his expression go for a moment. Cuphead throws the next words over his shoulder, subtly prodding at his brother, “It’s pretty.”

“Yeah, it is,” Mugman replies, his voice short. It was chosen to hide his thoughts, but he could see the gears in his brother’s head turning. Mugman looked down at the orange lily in his hand, pulling strength from it away from Cuphead's view. He wasn’t ready for this to be a them thing- if Cuphead could have something solely for himself, then so could Mugman. The mug changed the subject, “So what’s this surprise?”

“Nope!” Cuphead shouts, jumping up the last step and onto the landing. He had only gotten more childish staying here, finally having that distance from the suffering he caused to be himself again. It was like they were kids again withCuphead giddy with excitement. But Mugman followed behind him like a shadow. He’s lucky Cuphead still has his eyes forward, “You gotta wait to see it. ”

“Cuphead, seriously what did you get me?” Mugman says, stepping into stride with his twin, their gaits syncing up easily. The mug's voice was breathy, innocently worried. But he didn’t fail to notice Cuphead glancing down at the flower. Mugman just hoped his brother's excitement for the situation would cloud his curiosity soon.

They’re turning down the hallway to Bendy’s room now, Cuphead not even needing to look where he’s going. They walk right past a painting that makes Mugman do a double take. It was a wedding picture but it actually looked like Bendy and Cuphead were happy. Not like the actual day where they both looked like a physical weight had been put on their shoulders. They were both dressed up as well, holding hands and leaning into each other at the altar. That certainly hadn’t been there before. Mugman slows to a stop staring up at it. Right under his nose there had been this change.

 “I’m not ruining the surprise, don’t even try it Mugs!” Cuphead says, having turned his head away to look at a room across the hall from Bendy’s. It was a room that Mugman had never been into, and had assumed Cuphead hadn’t either. But seeing this? Maybe he didn’t know everything about his brother anymore. 

The red twin walked a couple steps without his brother before realizing his missing presence, stopping to face Mugman. Cuphead walks back over to stand beside him, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He’s quietly waiting for Mugman to speak.

The painting is done in soft colors, in a church more light filled than the one in town. Bendy is wearing a wedding dress, elaborate and elegant. Mugman is sure that the painting doesn’t truly do the real thing justice, knowing his brother-in-law. The demon is also graceful in his presence, softly smiling up at the cup.  Cuphead is in a maroon suit and grinning down at his husband. It paints a much happier picture of the day than Mugman had seen in person. 

Mugman drops his eyes to the floor but turns his head to face Cuphead. His brother turns his shoulder to see him better, looking at ease as he waits for the word. Mugman's voice is low and tight, “Is… Bendy here today?”

Cuphead frowns at that, Mugman can see it even as he tries to look away. There was a time when Cuphead would agree with him. It had always been just them, others were nothing compared to each other. But the cup had been taking Bendy’s side more and more. Proving Mugman's thoughts, the red twin speaks keeping his voice light, “He lives here.”

No shit. But the mug could read between the lines; Bendy would be joining them today, regardless of his opinion on the matter. Mugman looks back at the painting, hooking his thumbs on his belt loops. He tries to reason with his brother, “Couldn’t we just share this surprise between us?”

“I’d love for it to just be us sometime, Mugsy,” The red twin answers, shifting over into Mugman's space to bump their shoulders together. But he could see that Cuphead was tense, the crossed arms now held tight around his chest. Both of them looked ready to throw themselves out of a window to get away, what a pair. Cuphead continues, a bit nervously at the end of his sentence, “But it can’t be today. Because I wasn’t exactly...truthful about the surprise.”

The mug felt himself tense up even more, tilting his chin away toward the either end of the hall. So. Bendy had used his brother to lure him here? To what? Hangout? Mugman sounds miffed,“Cuphead. You know that I don’t like-”

“I know, I know-”

But Mugs is already on a tangent, talking right over his brother,“I don’t want anything from him except to be left alone!” The mug scoots away from his brother, twisting his thumbs in his belt loops and pulling the fabric taut. He has his shoulders hunched up to his ears.

“Mugsy, please,” Cuphead speaks again, closing the distance again but leaving enough space so they don’t touch. The both of them are pulled back and ready to run like a drawn arrow. It wouldn't be a good idea to touch each other right now. He prods, trying for sympathy, “Bendy’s been working on this for months.”

It just made Mugman mad, shifting away again but turning to face his brother. Did Cuphead really expect Mugman to not only have to live with being replaced but be friends with his replacement? The twins hadn’t argued in so long. Mostly because Mugman felt scared now. Cuphead could leave him completely if he said the wrong thing. He sounded upset now his voice raising an octave, “Just accept that we aren’t going to get along! I’ve tried-”

“Thats the thing, Mugs. Ya’ haven’t,” Cuphead cuts him off, sounding upset himself. It seems his patience had run out. Here it comes, Mugs is sure that he’ll be made to choose soon. The red twin turns to face Mugman, mirroring his brother with his hands now at his sides. He wasn’t angry. Cuphead never got angry. It was more pleading than anything, “I understand it but it ain't right.”

“Cuphead you can’t be serious,” Mugman answered, aghast. 

His brother waves his hands, gesturing to Mugs to wait. To pause and listen. Mugman’s lifelong love and respect for his brother is the only thing that keeps him in place. Cuphead speaks like he’s lifting a weight off of his chest,“You act like if you ignore him long enough he’ll just go away. And can go back to it just being us again. But I’m sorry Mugs, this is my life now.” Cuphead pauses for a moment,”But it can be ours you just need to try.”

The cup ends his words with a small smile, dropping his hands again. His expression is open, he wants Mugman to say yes- needs him to. But the mug is quiet. He can’t stand his own mind sometimes. It makes enemies out of everyone around him when all they do is care. Mugman's vision had tunneled down to just his brother but now he forces it out, forcibly slowing his breathing. Which had been speeding up as he spoke, and he hadn’t even noticed.

The hallway around them wasn’t nearly as dark as it had been in his own mind moments ago. Since Cuphead moved in he requested every curtain to be drawn back to let light in. Just like how he always kept their bedroom window drawn. Each with stained glass hung from the rods, spinning light onto the floor. It made the whole interior seem more warm brown then the black Mugman had always seen it as.

It was homey, like their childhood house. Succeeding at that calm comfort Mugman hadn’t felt anywhere since he and Cuphead split ways. He dropped his shoulders and pulled his finger out from the belt loops, the fabric bent out of shape and poking out. The mug wrung his hands together, still unsure of himself, watching his brother carefully for any sign of annoyance. There were none. 

Cuphead felt the weight of the silence, finally breaking a little. His face fell as he gave one last plea,“For me?”

How could he say no to that? Mugman shook his hands out and nodded his head in one short movement. He still sounded upset, just a little, “Alright, I’ll try.”

Cuphead nods, slowly easing back into his normal expression and body language, “Thanks.” 

It's simple but all they need to move on for right now. Mugman takes the initiative first, starting to walk towards the general direction Cuphead had been leading him. Cup catches on as well, turning on his heel to continue leading Mugman to the mystery room. 

Before Mugman can take stock of the situation again Cuphead is charging through the door, slamming it open into the wall beside it. He jumps through the door, holding his hands out and greeting the demon inside with a trumpeting noise. It’s a sharp difference from his demeanor in the hallway, likely played up to shock his system back into a more positive gear. Or… to scare the shit out of Bendy, either or. 

“Shit!” Bendy shouts, from farther into the room. The demon is hidden behind….numerous fabrics and mannequins. Celestials this place was like a sewing store blew up slow enough to scatter everything inside of it instead of decimating it. There's a loud crash from Bendy, wherever he is, and another shriek. It sounded like a tray full of metal pieces, scattering all over the floor. There's a third and much more infuriated shout, “Cuphead!”

“Crap. Give me a second, Mugsy,” Cuphead gets a nervous look on his face, looking a little guilty. He indicates to his brother with his finger, asking for a moment. The red twin speed walks into the room, carefully dodging the fabrics and sewing tools on the floor, with swift enough feet that Mugs is sure he’s done it many times before. 

The blue twin feels out of place immediately without his brother, pushing the door shut after it bounces back from the wall it hit. So he looks around. There isn’t much to say past his original description as he thinks that nails it on the head. It’s a wonder that anything could be found in this room. In the corner that Mugman can see there's a large stack of drawers, each filled to the brim with accessories. Gloves in one, socks in another, ties flood at least three drawers. Celestials. Mugman knew Bendy was eccentric when it came to fashion, but this was a step forward he didn’t expect. 

There's muttering from the place the couple was standing in the room. It sounds like Cuphead is being chewed out by his husband. It’s accompanied by a periodical scratch of metal against the wooden floor as they scramble to clean up the mess. Like a conversation in another room, it just becomes background noise for Mugman and he tunes it out. He’s actively trying not to let his mind spiral again, noting things in the room fastidiously. 

Again, more muttering but this time it sounds more like Cuphead scolding Bendy. There's shuffling and a louder series of words from the demon before Bendy is shoved out into view. He’s still across the room but is now able to be seen in the mess. The demon is thrown out of balance, bent in half, and slowly glances up to see Mugman already staring at him.

Mugman inclines his head but doesn’t say anything else, afraid he might sound upset still from the hallway and not wanting to ruin his attempt to make friends already. Bendy straightens up and nods his head back, a little stilted. The demon sends a nasty glare to Cuphead before making his way across the room to see Mugman. 

Today Bendy is wearing another suit, it seems he has a never ending supply of them. Actually… Mugmans would not be surprised if you could pull suits out of these clothing mounds until the cows came home. Anyway, the suit was brown and yellow, a pinstripe ensemble. Though it seems the demon had taken off his jacket. The pants came up to his mid waist, a thick matching belt cinching in around his waist. His vest was tucked into it and into the vest a dark mustard yellow tie hung tightly around his neck. He wasn't wearing much jewelry today, only his wedding band, the red gem standing out from his color scheme. 

And now he’s right in front of him. Bendy inclines his head again, his usual swagger regained. Mugman steels himself to be kinder than he has before. The demon speaks, “Hello, Mugman. It’s good to see you again. How’re you today?”

“Fi-” Mugman huffs at himself. Come on Mugs. Do it for Cuphead. Be amicable and social. You can do this. Like how you talked to Bowlboy. Mugs strokes a finger down the stem of his orange lily. He tries again, “I’m alright. Walking here was nice. Not too gloomy.”

Eugh, small talk. Bendy looked tortured as well, his neutral face crinkling ever so slightly. Though his eyes do drop to the only pop of color on his brother-in-law, the flower. Bendy’s face crumples further, but he shakes it away. Posing another question, “Where’d you get that from? Ya’ pick it?”

Did… Bendy always sound like that? It was surprising it took him this long to hear it but that sounded like a completely different voice than what he was used to. Huh. Was he putting on some sort of fake accent to relate to him more or something? Ridiculous, what the hell did Cuphead even see in him. 

Oh yeah, he was asked about the flower again. Both of them were too nosy for their own good. Mugman holds the flower up, glad to fawn over it despite the situation, “No. Someone gave it to me on the way here. An old friend.”

Bendy gets that rotten look on his face again, not bothering to cover it up a second time. He glances between Mugman and the flower. The demon speaks, very slowly, “Someone gave you that flower?”

In the shock of being asked, Mugman entirely skips over how Bendy carefully enunciated the word ‘that’ and not the word ‘you’. The blue twin gives the demon a defensive glare, holding the flower closer to his chest, “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Cuphead chooses that exact moment to dash back across the room, walking up behind his husband and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Bendy, who had already been perturbed by Mugman's negative reaction, looks back at his spouse with confusion. Cuphead inserts himself in the conversation as well, “Hey! What’s going on over here?”

Mugman looks at Bendy indicating ‘he did it, not me!’ The red twin looks down at Bendy with a questioning expression. Bendy takes a moment to take in the situation then gestures to the orange lily with his head, “Cuphead, that flower-”

“Is beautiful! Isn’t it?” Cuphead cuts him off, squeezing his husband's shoulder meaningfully. He’s not subtle about it at all. Cups must’ve had a very similar conversation with Bendy about getting along with Mugman like they had in the hall. 

The demon looks like he still wants to say something but sighs as he lets it go. Bendy turns his face back to Mugman, he is feigning agreement with a smile, “Yes. Very pretty. I’m sorry for my rudeness. I didn’t mean it that way. Just… don’t see many of those around here.”

There's a nod from Cuphead and a matching smile as he leans in to rest his head on the top of Bendy’s right horn. The demon glances up before closing his eyes to seal the deal, the perfect picture of sweet innocence. What a pair. 

He didn’t believe it for a minute but when Cuphead made a gesture to his own smile with his free hand, Mugman got the message. At least his brother was on his side here. Mugman dropped his hands and stopped snarling, going for a semblance of calm. His voice was monotone, “Right. Thank you.”

Bendy gives him a nervous chuckle in response but Cuphead nods encouragingly, bumping his head into Bendy’s with his movement. Then there's a mischievous glint in his eyes that Mugman doesn’t like, at all. The demon looks just about ready to shove Cuphead off now, the borderline nuzzling seemingly agitating him. It means he misses the expression as the cup speaks, “Hows about I go get a glass for the flower of the hour from the kitchen? And then Bendy here,” Cuphead lets him go and knocks his spouse forward, “Can tell you something about his gift, eh?”

No. no no no. Mugman cannot be alone with him. Bendy, for his part, looks just as apprehensive of the idea as he does. They both fear being in a room without an intermediary it seems. Mugman is the first to protest, “Cuphead, it’s fine, I don’t need a glass-”

And Cuphead is already leaving, great. The red cup slips out of the door with a wave over his shoulder, closing the door succinctly behind him. Both remaining men in the room stare at the door listlessly. Maybe if they didn’t acknowledge the other they wouldn’t have to say anything until Cuphead got back. 

But he’d be so disappointed. Damn it. They slowly turn to look at each other, their eyes bouncing away from each other like magnets with the same charge. 

They’re both silent for a long drawn out minute. Mugman sucks in a breath, ready to break it himself but Bendy beats him to it. “How’s Elder Kettle, Spike?” It seems he’s defaulted back to small talk. That was fine. It was probably safer than anything else.

Elder Kettle had met Bendy a couple times now, the first being when the couple visited the cottage. Bendy had looked very out of place in the cottage even though he was obviously trying to keep from being too odd. He had even worn something more casual then what he usually did, apparently Cuphead's idea according to what his brother had said. And of course, their grandfather had ended up adoring Bendy. All it took was one interesting story about the demon's detective parents and Kettle had been captured, hook, line, and sinker.

It was the same with Chalice. She had nervously tapped out a little jig when they were first meeting and Bendy had gasped and responded with his own. God the two of them made such a racket with their tap shoes Elder Kettle yelled at them until they took them off. Even Spike liked Bendy. Damn traitors. It seemed Mugman had missed the family memo or something.

“He’s alright. Just his usual self. He wanted to come, I believe,” Maybe he was stretching the truth a little, who cares? Maybe he could have fun with it so his mood improved a little… Okay now he just sounded like his brother. Mugman spoke again, making tentative eye contact, “Spikes alright as well. Uhm. He nearly tripped me down the stairs this morning.”

That joke was extremely clunky and entirely out of place but, oh well. Bendy has the decency to smooth over it with another chuckle, sounding more real than the first time. But it trails off and suddenly they don’t have anything else to say. Bendy makes a small humming noise, “Hmm.”

Guess it was his turn to say something, anything. Alright, think Mugs. You’re super smart and you can’t think of conversation topics??? Oh! “The Thatcher Colt books you lent me are good. Thank you for that,” Mugman finally says after finding a suitable thing to say. And he does mean it. Even his new brother-in-law couldn’t sour his feelings for those books. 

His expression must be reflecting his true thoughts again, this time to his benefit, as Bendy relaxes minutely. The demon folds his hands in front of him, resting them right in front of his belt. He speaks, sounding cheery that they actually had some common ground, “I’m glad! What’s your favorite so far? I’ve always loved the Circus Queen.”

Mugman… also loved the Circus Queen. He had just finished it a couple days ago and had spoken to Elder Kettle about it until his grandfather couldn’t take it anymore. There's an itch under his skin to do the same with Bendy, especially with the knowledge that the demon actually seems to care about it. But it still felt too weird for him to do that. He settles for this, “Me too. I think it was the most compelling mystery I’ve read so far out of the series.”

There's a smile on his face now despite himself. Bendy reflects it with his next words, “You’ll have to tell me what you think about The Man Afraid of Women. That leans more into comedy than the others.” They are both still standing at the entrance of the room, both of them holding out hope that Cuphead might come back in soon. Though it seems the conversation isn’t the worst it could be.

There's another pause and Mugman decides it wouldn’t be too hostile to ask what was going on. The mug made an effort to keep his lighter tone from moments ago, “So. What did you bring me here for? Cuphead said it was a gift?” And that it took you months to make, he adds to himself.

Bendy loses his easy smile, looking over his shoulder and deeper into the room. Mugman raises an eyebrow. The demon sucks in a breath and looks back, “Uh. Yes. I meant to give you it sooner but it took longer than I thought it would.”

Before Mugman can say anything the demon makes a swift decision to finally move their conversation deeper into the room. He steps deeper into the room, stepping between the hazards just like Cuphead had earlier. Mugman follows behind much less gracefully. He lags behind Bendy by more than a couple paces, being sure not to step on an errant needle.

The demon only notices once he makes it to his destination, flipping back around to see an empty space where he expected his in-law. But it’d be too much of a hassle if he went to go help him so Bendy waited patiently. Mugman glanced up after he took his next step, seeing that the demon was standing right in front of a curtain. It wasn’t attached to the wall but stood alone in the center of the room, hanging down from the high ceiling. This place was just as dramatic as it’s owner. 

The mug makes it over and moves to stand right in front of Bendy, not bothering to hide his interest in what was behind him. The curtains had multiple layers, dark purple and maroon laid on top of each other near the top and almost down to the floor. At the very bottom the thick velvet curtains parted unevenly and a sheer light pink curtain fell the rest of the way to the floor, closing off the inside entirely. It blended in with the rest of the miscellaneous fabric, Mugman probably wouldn’t have even noticed it if Bendy hadn’t led him over here.

Bendy does look nervous now, spinning away from Mugman to face the curtains, fidgeting with the deep purple fabric by folding it into itself. It was odd to see him like this. Bendy was always very confident in himself, even when he had been meeting the rest of the Kettle family. But he couldn’t even meet Mugman's eye sometimes. It felt vindicating at times, annoying at others. Now? He felt sort of guilty.

The mug gestures at the curtain, even though Bendy likely can’t see it, looking a little excited. Mugman couldn’t really help it, Cuphead had done a good job of amping him up for this in the hallway. That combined with own curiosity was overpowering his usual instinct to sour every interaction with his countless internal gripes. Mugman speaks with open curiosity, “Is this the surprise?”

“Yes. I’d open it but Cuphead should be here to see your reaction,” The demon answers, rocking on his heel to face Mugman again. The mug looked around, subtly avoiding his gaze to examine the room. From here he could see a long table covered in crochet needles, scroll frames, and countless pins. All of them are made of rich birch wood with intricate patterns carved into them. Even the pins, as small as they were, had tiny designs handcarved into them.

Mugs felt drawn to them, tools made more sense to him than anything else in here and they were assembled masterfully. Seams hold no indication of glue or cracking from being sealed. The metal was clean and sharp, even after several years if the wearing on some of them indicated anything. 

“Where’d you get these?” Migman says, pulling them off of their original topic. Bendy looks happy about it, at least, ready to pull the attention on his gift away to other things. The demon gestures him over to the table, reaching out to grab some of the tools, offering them to Mugman to analyze. 

They felt as good as they looked, he thought, balancing them in one hand, though the grips were a little too small. But that was likely because they were made specifically for Bendy. He cycled through a couple tools. The demon points at the tapestry beater in the other's hands as he speaks. “My brother made them all himself, he’s always been talented with carving and the like,” It’s bittersweet, likely a good memory shrouded in current grief. 

Which could be understood if he had lost his brother. These were likely the last things Bendy had of his little brother. Maybe… maybe Mugman could pay him back, for whatever this gift was, by getting him a case or frame for the older tools. 

This really wasn’t as horrible as he had been hoping for. Mugs had really been searching for a reason to truly hate Bendy this whole time but he really couldn’t. All that stood between them was Mugman's own stupid feelings. He didn’t like admitting his gut instinct was wrong but…

“I’m back!” There was a shout from the entrance door, sounding slightly apprehensive. It was Cuphead; managing to be both right on time and too early. There's quick steps into the room after the door is closed, likely Cuphead worried about them having started something.

Of course, Bendy and Mugman are entirely calm when Cuphead sees them standing by the bench. His shoulders lower a little and his smile upturns at its corners. The cup is holding a small cup in one of his hands, perfect to hold the orange lily. 

“Hello, Cuphead,” Bendy greets, looking relieved. Not because of their conversation being tortuous, Mugman thinks, as he looks proud as well as relieved. Mugs was a bit proud of himself too for keeping his cool. The blue twin raises his hand with the wooden beater to give a little wave. 

Cuphead meets them both, leaning forward between them to set the glass down. Though when he set it down he wasted no time wrapping his arms around his family, one hand on both men's shoulders. It was like he was coming home to his asshole dogs and was glad they didn’t knock any vases over while he was gone.

“Back so soon? We were just talking about you…” Mugman trails off, comfortable enough to try to be funny. Bendy looks a little shocked at seeing Mugman so cheerful but covers it up with a mischievous grin, catching on immediately. The mug gives him a slightly off balance grin to match, still unsure about this.

“All good things, of course,” Bendy adds, swaying a little toward Cuphead's side. For his part the cup looks astonished, flicking his eyes between the pair. Despite the insults he looks overjoyed that they’re getting along. He shakes their shoulders, eliciting small chuckles from them.

“Like there's anything else to say about me,” Cuphead responds, sounding a little snarky. Though with that remark he lets them both go, satisfied. Then he gestures over his shoulder indicating the curtains behind them all. “Mugsy put that stuff down! We got surprises to uncover,” He jokes at his brother.

Bendy steels himself and walks up to the curtains at his spouse's words. The demon uses the distraction of Mugman setting down the tools he had tucked into the crook of his elbow to slip behind the curtain. Cuphead inadvertently blocks the small sliver of space uncovered by shifting to stare at the flower in Mugman's hand.

The blue twin gets the quiet request and gently sets his orange lily into the cup his brother had brought. Cuphead walks away in the process, waiting for him beside the curtains. There's a few whispers between the couple that Mugman can’t make out. The mug touches the flower once more, quietly thanking it for the strength it had given him. He’d be alright now. He turns away to join his brother, missing how the flower rotated around in the glass to face toward the trio.

Cuphead smiles as he walks up, grabbing him by his upper arm to tug him into the center of the curtain. There's a nervous energy about him as he adjusts Mugman's position. As he backs away the mug catches Cuphead reaching up to his chest and slipping his hand underneath his shirt. There's a scrapping noise; something metallic glancing off of his porcelain skin. His ring. 

It was the latest nervous habit Cuphead had gotten. It came from when he would check that he had it around his neck every morning, not wanting to ever forget it. From there Cuphead would check that it still hung whenever he needed reassurance. Mugman didn’t think Cuphead even knew he was doing it.

“You’ve got me excited for this Cuphead. I hope it’s good,” Mugman says teasingly, though there is a tension in his words that underlies actual suspense. Seeing his brother react like this was…very eerie. Cuphead wasn’t ever one to let things phase him usually.

The cup focuses his gaze on the closed curtain, a set point that is likely where the gift is located on the other side. He debates what to say for a moment, Mugs can see it, before he answers, “It’s amazing.” It’s breathless and heartfelt, like Cuphead is dreaming it as he speaks the words.

Mugman didn’t think he could match his brother's level of wonder at this moment, even though his curiosity was suitably peaked. The worst part of himself soured as he thought he’d never made something that Cuphead seemed to love this much. Though. That was a lie. Mugman had made a horrifying sledding track when they were kids. And Cuphead nearly cried tears of joy. It was enough to get that awful part of himself to shut up again. 

 “Alright,” Mugman says simply. He squints a little at the curtain, trying to see if he could catch a glimpse, though it was very unlikely with the thick curtains. Cuphead breathes out and lets go of his necklace, putting his hands at his sides. 

Not a second later Bendy comes out from behind the curtain, he comes out of the side Mugman isn’t in front of though. The demon has a shaky smile on his face but once he looks over to Cuphead it solidifies into something more real. Mugman can’t turn fast enough to catch whatever expression his brother made to elicit that response. But when he looks Cuphead has grabbed onto the curtain, curling his hand around the central seam. 

This is it, Mugman thinks, time for the big surprise. Should he close his eyes? Who should he look at before hand? What’s his face look like? Did he have a good face right now? WHAT WAS HE SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE????? What if he ruined the surprise by being weird? The mug's face was twitching erratically between expressions, like he was trying to gauge which one got the best reaction from the couple.

Seeing this Bendy grimaced, his hands covering each other as he grabbed for his side of the corner. The demon looked over at Cuphead, seemingly checking that nothing was wrong. Cuphead was raising an eyebrow at mugs, he looked half amused and something else Mugman couldn’t parse.

“Fix your face, Mugsy,” Cuphead says, poking fun at his already obviously agitated brother. Bendy makes a disapproving noise but Cups waves him off.

It certainly snaps Mugs out of it, "There's nothing wrong with my face!” He says with a face so stricken with nerves the edges look ready to crack. Cuphead gives a deadpan look until Mugman eventually calms down into a normal expression.

Bendy nods his head to himself, squaring his shoulders, “Ready?” It’s a little eager, the demon tilting his head imploringly. 

Mugman nods before he can stop himself, shaking out his hands and staring forward. He has a frown on his face made out of pure concentration. He’s ready. The red twin looks over at Bendy and indicates to open it on three with his hand. The demon’s tail is flicking behind him but he ascents, watching the count down with rapt attention. He doesn’t seem able to meet Mugman's eye anymore.

“Three…two…one!” Cuphead mouths, throwing his side open in time with Bendy to reveal a mannequin. Well. A little more than that. It’s dressed in a gorgeous white suit that seems to have absorbed some sort of sunlight with the way it glows against the dark curtains. They been fully peeled back, letting the nearby window spill sun onto its woven in silk hems. There was embroidery done all around the edges, so faint that it could only be seen in the sun or very close. 

He was drawn in a couple steps, like it had its own gravitational pull. Bendy and Cuphead fade into his peripheral vision as he gawks. There were a pair of blue-grey dress shoes beside the mannequin, shined and smooth. He only realizes them after he nearly trips over them getting closer to the outfit. It was a three piece, the vest slightly off white to compliment the rest of the suit. Its tie was velvet, pinned up with a spade brooch. It was made of pure silver and it looked cool to the touch, it wasn’t as pristine as the clothes were. There were chips and uneven lining around the edges, it was likely handmade. 

From behind him Mugman could feel the couple's gaze. The nerves rolled off of them physically as they waited with baited breath. Still, Mugman remained silent. It was unbelievable. 

Mugman reached out with his right hand, his hand pausing several times mid air before resting on the front of the collar. His vision was blurring, the proximity making his farsight ruin the view. The mug scrambled for his glasses in his breast pocket, whipping them out so fast they nearly slipped from his hands. Luckily he was able to flip them open and onto his face without more trouble. 

When his glasses went on the care that was put into the suit only became more apparent and Mugman leaned in further. Now both of his hands rested on the front of the mannequin, his porcelain hands sliding along the fabric like a wave over the shore. His quiet search and attention to the front of the suit lead him up to the shoulders where he finds a long expertly crafted veil, that's balanced on the top of the mannequin so that it lays on its shoulders. 

After several minutes of this, torturously long for Bendy, Mugman finally speaks soft and disbelieving, “You made this? For me?”

There's the noise of Cuphead's straw grating against his rim, likely turning to face Bendy. The demon doesn’t make any sound for a couple moments, building up his nerve. Mugman can’t be bothered with it, still petting the suit as he takes the veil. It was so delicate looking, webs and spiders drawn in lace. It wasn’t symmetrical either, the pattern differing in many places so not one place where you looked was the same as another. 

“Yes,” Bendy says, clearing his throat when his voice came out less than confident. Foot steps come up behind him, too light to be Cupheads, stopping a few paces behind him. There's a great wave of emotion that's causing tremors in Mugman's hands. His brother-in-law continues, his voice back to his usual boldness, “Though Cuphead had a huge part in it as well.”

Mugman drops his hands by his sides, then slowly turns around. Bendy is behind him, looking up at him with a small unsure smile. Cuphead is farther away, standing back and silently watching the exchange. Mugman doesn’t glance up at him to see his expression, his focus down on Bendy.

The blurring comes back in his eyes. Mugman reaches up to push his glasses back up but finds them already in place. Ah, those are tears. He looks up at the ceiling to quell them, pushing his lips together to keep them from quivering. He wasn’t going to cry. When he finally swallowed his tears enough to face Bendy again he asked a single thing, “Why?”
Bendy tilts his head side to side as he speaks, “Well, I first had the idea a couple months ago, when you were upset about your date.” He pauses there looking a little guilty. Mugman had eventually been told about the eavesdropping. Something that had made him furious. But that all seemed so far away now. “I was unsure if it would be overstepping until Cuphead encouraged me to go through with it,” Bendy said, gesturing with an open palm to his husband who had moved a couple inches closer, “I knew I couldn’t say anything to make you feel better so I did the next best thing.”

“A wedding suit?” Mugman answered incredulously, that had been Bendy’s next option after eliminating basic verbal comfort? It was unbelievably kind, especially with the two months of work he had apparently put in.

The demon looked a bit sheepish, “A little over kill, I admit. But I rarely do anything half-assed.” Bendy was waving his hands around more and more. He looked proud of himself at the very least, sure that Mugman had liked it.

Mugs takes a short step forward, physically stopping Bendy’s next words. The demon looks at him with a bit of confusion for all of one second before 200 pounds of china throws itself at him. There's a screech from Bendy at the sudden, and very tight, contact, but he stops himself before it can build into anything. Mugman is squeezing the life out of the demon, resting his face in the crook of his neck. “Thank you,” He mumbles, already feeling his tears start to pour.

Wrapping his hands around Mugman as well, Bendy pats his back. His voice is a little strained as he speaks, “Of course.”

There's a hiccup from Mugman before the tears truly start in a cascade. Mugs has always been an ugly crier and he has always hated it. But he didn’t care right now. He was heaving sobs and getting snot all down his face and he didn’t care at all. Bendy didn’t either, still holding him just as tightly. He was mumbling again, “Thank you, Thank you.”

Being thought of like this by someone that was by all accounts an almost stranger was shattering him. Especially after feeling invisible for so long. He hadn’t been left behind at all, Mugman thought, he should’ve known Cuphead wouldn’t replace him. And he should’ve given Bendy a chance. He’d been so wrong about him.

 Unconsciously Mugman tilts his head into Bendy’s horn. Like a clink he’d share with his twin though it doesn’t make the usual satisfying sound it always did with Cuphead. Obviously, Bendy wasn’t porcelain. But it was still there. Mugman had never done it with anyone outside of his family before. Well. Bendy’s a part of that family now.

There's foot steps from behind Bendy, Mugman glances up to see Cuphead approaching just before his vision is blocked by his brother's shoulder. The red twin pulled both of them even closer to each other, crushing Bendy between them, just a little bit. The cup uses one hand to push Mugman's face into his shoulder saving Bendy's vest from his snot just in the nick of time. Though the blue twin gets his glasses knocked askew. 

It only lasts a couple moments before Bendy has had enough of it, squirming back against his spouse. He’s much more gentle in untangling himself from Mugman though. His voice is breathless as he pushes against them, “Let me go, ya saps. You’re suffocating me.”

Cuphead laughs a little, his shoulder shaking against his brother's puffy face. But he concedes, giving Bendy an opening to get away from. The demon takes it quickly but not without one last pat on Mugman's arm. He is still close, right at their elbows. His face is lit up with a gentle smile, his cheeks almost rosy from its warmth. 

Mugman is still very much a mess but he realizes he’s probably being overdramatic and needs to calm down. He takes slow breaths until his sobbing has subsided enough that he can form words without blubbering. The mug finally steps away but not without getting a proper clink with his twin. Cuphead has a dopey smile on his face, just as warm as his husbands. Mugman feels a similar expression slowly spreading across his soggy face. 

It’s surprising when the mug sees a couple tears on Cuphead's face, much more dainty than his own. They’re mostly dried now, Cuphead giving himself whiplash by shaking it off. The cup gestures to the suit excitedly, “Mugs! You gotta try it on!”

He’s in the middle of bending his glasses back into place when the red twin says it. Mugman looks up and gets excited himself though he still feels a little stuffy from his tears, unlike his brother. He sniffles when he answers, “Oh uh, Alright! Where do I..?”

Bendy cuts in to answer the unfinished question, “You can just shut the curtain, there's light inside.” He points up to the ceiling. Lanterns are hung from the ceiling in the middle of the circular platform, lowering down about halfway. Each of them are lit with a steadfast flame.

“Sounds good to me,” well, that solves the problem. Mugman goes back onto the platform, standing beside the suit. His eyes caught on it again and he felt even more giddy to try it on. Mugman watches as the couple grab the curtain again, closing him into the small space. It’s darker by far but the lanterns allow him to see just fine.

The voice continued on the other side of the curtain, muffled but still able to be understood,“Don’t bother tying anything in the back, I’ll get it for you when you come out.” It’s Bendy, sounding authoritative. He finished with, “It gets very particular.”

Mugs feels a little awkward talking to someone while he’s changing, feeling self-conscious even through the thick curtain. So he responds with a simple hum of acknowledgement. Ever the gentlemen he’s currently folding his clothes to set aside. 

Another voice, Cuphead, shouts, “And don’t tie your tie! That’s my job.” The voice is only heard due to his brother shouting, it seems the two of them had moved a little bit away. Likely to the workbench Mugman had been examining. 

“Alright,” Mugman responds aloud this time, too entranced with the silky undershirt he’s pulling on to really care about his embarrassment. The buttons are nice and sleek, silver to match the tie pin brooch. Once he buttons it up he takes a moment to wrap his arms around himself, feeling the fabric rub against his torso and arms.

Like he heard his thoughts Bendy speaks up, a little louder as well, “I hope the fabric is okay. Cuphead said you both don’t like how stuffy suits were so I tried to use lighter materials.” The demon sounds like someone going over a spreadsheet, all business. 

Considering the fact that he’s currently rubbing the fabric against his skin, Mugman is sure of his answer, “It’s perfect.” He grabs the next piece, the light grey vest trying not to marvel at it as well. This too has silver buttons though these ones are covered in a simple floral pattern indented into the metal. He’d have to look at in better lighting to see which flowers they were. 

It took him a little time to get the whole thing on. Well, as on as it could be with the back of the vest still undone and the jacket unable to be put on just yet. The tie was still off as well, at the behest of his brother. Mugman has to rack up the courage to peak his head outside of the curtains.

His brother and Bendy are sitting on stools just where he thought they’d be. Both had their elbows on the work table, leaning into each other's space. They’re speaking lowly to each other, too soft for him to make out. Their bodies frame the orange lily that was still sitting on the bench. The demon had his legs crossed daintily, his foot on his upper leg bouncing repeatedly. The motion traced against Cuphead's own leg that was firmly planted on the ground with his palm pressing into his knee. 

The blue twin watched them quietly for a moment, his gaze flicking back and forth between them. Cuphead was grinning ear to ear at something Bendy had just said, the demon's eyes tracing it. Mugman clears his throat.

They jump and look over to see him still mostly hidden behind the curtain, looking a bit sheepish. Cupheads eyes slightly widen and start to gleam, amazed even though he can barely make out the outfit. Bendy smile widens and he stands up to walk over.

“Alright lets get you sealed in. Cuphead, be a dear and get the mirror ready, please?” he says as he reaches the curtain. Deftly pushing Mugman in and slipping in behind him so Cuphead couldn’t make out the outfit just yet. As the mug takes a step back the demon takes him in, a proud grin on his face. Bendy whispers conspiratorially, “In my expert opinion; you look amazing, even with it not entirely assembled.”

“Thank you,” Mugman gushes and folds his hands over each other, wringing them with a nervous chuckle. He really didn’t know what he was going to do when he saw himself. Probably cry again. It didn't matter, he wanted to see it as soon as possible. So he turns around to give his brother-in-law access to the corset, holding his veil off to the side.

Bendy seems just as antsy as he is, moving forward immediately and taking hold of the strings. The demon tugs at them sharply without warning and Mugman stumbles. So Bendy uses one hand to steady him for his next tug. Celestials, how tight would this be? It didn’t matter how light the material was if he was going to be strangled by the corset. Well, Bendy’s smart, he probably already thought of that.

There's a hollow scratching noise from outside the curtains, likely Cuphead dragging the mirror his husband had asked for. It was pulled around to where he was facing now, the other end of the room from the work table. Listening was a skill that Bendy had taught his brother, something he had been quietly grateful for. Cuphead had always been someone who did his own thing, regardless of another's opinion. 
It was great in many aspects, it meant no one could touch him. He flew above it all because if he didn’t see an issue with it, there was none. Now Cuphead considered others opinions. Just last week Cuphead had followed Mugman's instructions when they had decided to explore a cave. It had a large willow tree inside of it and a hole in the ceiling that let sun in. His brother had wanted to climb it, despite the obvious branch attachments to the ceiling that would make it cave in if it was touched wrong.

When Mugman has told him off about it he has expected Cuphead to charge ahead and do it anyway. Sure that he would be fine, and if he wasn't he’d be alright with it. But he didn’t. He accepted his twin's warning and stayed on the ground. That was another thing; Cuphead valued his life again.

There was another sharp tug on his corset and he gasped. Bendy chuckled a little and patted his shoulder. Mugman smiled to himself. What an ass…. He could see why Cuphead wanted to live for him. Mugs felt tears prick his eyes. He wanted to be that for Cuphead for so long, a reason to make Cuphead appreciate life. But he didn’t think he could ever do it himself. 

Cuphead would never get past his guilt for trapping them in a deal. Mugman knew what Cuphead thought of himself, how he blamed himself for everything since they were ten. And his twin thought he shared the same grievance, maybe he did when he was young, but now? After all they’ve suffered all he wants to do is be the happiest he can. 

Hm. Being happy. What a thought. It hadn’t crossed his mind in quite some time now. And here it was. All because of Bendy and his thoughtful gifts. The careful molding he’s done with Cuphead and the great kindness of this suit. Mugman brings both his hands to rest on his heart, leaning his head down. 

All too soon Bendy was done, tying it off with a clean bow at the bottom. And it was unsurprisingly comfortable despite all the intense tightening the demon had done on it. Bendy must be a wizard or something, he mused. The demon silently offers the suit jacket out to Mugman, his eyes glazed over as he takes in the suit. His eyes especially on the veil. Gosh Mugs was gonna be a mess after this. 

“Cups!” Bendy says, leaning only his chin over to the general area of his spouse. It spooks Mugs with its sudden noise and he jumps. It seems Cuphead did the same, a small scuffing noise as the cup trips over his own feet to come up to the curtain.

“Yeah? My turn now I assume?” Cuphead says, right outside. But when he reaches out to open the curtain the demon puts his own hand over his spouses. Stalling him.
“Cups, you gotta promise not to look at the outfit while you're doing his tie! You can’t ruin it for yourself, Ya gotta wait til it's all together,” Bendy asserts, squeezing his husband's hand tightly. 

There's a good-natured groan from his twin from outside the curtain that’s punctuated by him shaking the curtain. Bendy’s hand falls away. Cuphead answers, “Fine, Bends! Now let me in there.”

Bendy rolls his eyes and looks at mugs, gesturing to Cuphead with a tilt of his head. ‘Get a load of this guy’ he mouths. Mugs huffed a chuckle out as Bendy leaves through the new opening. His brother wastes zero time in entering, crowding his space. Cupheads eyes shone enough to reflect the lanterns' light through them, like fireflies. The space between them was short and Mugman could tell that his brother was barely restraining himself from looking down, despite what Bendy had said.

“You alright there, Cups?” Mugman says, it’s supposed to be a tease but he’s so damn giddy it comes out purely happy. 

Cuphead wasn’t any better, “Oh i’m just peachy. Lets get this tie on, huh?” He turns away so quickly his head almost spins on his shoulders. But he grabs the tie and brooch off of the mannequin. The brooch caught the light from the flames just as Cuphead's eyes had. But that dancing of light reveals something on the inside of the metal piece which Cuphead had flipped to see himself.

A finger print was imprinted into the metal, with a tarnish so it could be made out easily. Cuphead idly rubbed his thumb over it; it was a perfect match. As Mugman's eyes widen in realization Cuphead turns his head to meet his gaze. He gives him the most heartfelt smirk he’d ever seen.

“You… You made that?” Mugman said, his lips wobbling into a wet smile. He wouldn’t cry again, he swore to himself. Cuphead comes back over, his eyes trained steadfastly on his brother's eyes. The red twin throws the tie around Mugman's neck, ever impatient. 

“Yeah. All myself. Eh. Kinda all by myself. Got directions from Barley though,” Cuphead says, trying to sound humble. It didn’t really work when combined with his current warm smirk. Seeing it closer the uneven edges were made more apparent. It was beautiful. Cuphead continued a little quieter, “Used Bendy’s bro’s old tools. Apparently he was very handy.”

Mugman hums, they both were careful about mentioning Bendy’s loss around him. Mainly because they feared the possible wave of grief. Celestials know how they would react if the other died. They wouldn’t want a reminder.

Well. Onto nicer thoughts.

Mugman grabbed his brother's hands as they pulled the tie knot through. He whispers as well wanting to keep the conversation personal, “I can’t believe you did this for me. Thank you. You and Bendy. Him especially. I just… I still can’t believe it.”

Cuphead smiles at him and continues to work under his brothers’ hands. He glanced to the curtain beside them, where Bendy stood before speaking. “I couldn’t believe it either. I didn’t understand why he’d do this for you,” he whispered.

“Hm,” Mugman nodded, dropping his hands back to his sides. Though they came back up to mess with the fabric of the jacket, pulling along the lapel. 

“But he kept on saying one thing whenever I asked,” Cuphead said, now raising his brooch up to attach it to the tie. Mugman tilted his chin up to make sure his brother had a good view but stared straight at him intently, waiting for what he had to say. It was steady as it was spoken, “He kept sayin’ that you were family, and he’d do what it takes to make you happy.”

Now he felt like an asshole. All these weeks of hating him when all Bendy held for him was the same love he had thought he had been losing from Cuphead. He had wanted a family more than anything. Mugman remembered how quiet the house had been when they first arrived, empty. Now it was slowly filling with mirth. 

“Oh,” It was breathless as he said it, he really had no idea what to say to that. Other than lunge through the curtain and crush his poor brother-in-law into another hug. But finally Cuphead backed away after a tap of the brooch. 

“Alright. I think I'll explode if we wait any longer,” Cuphead walks around to get behind him and then covers Mugman's eyes with his hands. The blue twin accepts it and reaches up to touch his new brooch. Cuphead whistles, “Bends! We’re ready- open up!”

Almost immediately Mugman hears the curtains being pulled open, the slide on the track being heard clearly in the silence. He waited with baited breath as he was walked outside of the curtains and into the room again. There was a quiet muttering from Bendy as the demon directed Cups on how to position him. 

Then Cuphead stepped away after asking him to keep his eyes closed and walked away to stand in front of him. The demon spent a moment adjusting the veil and pulling his suit to double check its positioning. Soon though he fled to join Cuphead and left Mugman standing alone. 

“Whenever you're ready, Mugman,” Bendy said simply, though there were some nerves in his voice.

Here goes. Mugman sucked in a breath and then opened his eyes. 

It was him. But it wasn’t, not like he’d ever seen himself before. The only thing he fully recognized was his face, blinking slowly at the mirror in awe. In his peripheral he could see Cuphead having a similar reaction, Bendy steadying him by holding his forearm with both hands. The demon's gaze bounced between the two twins.

The suit was perfectly fitting, giving him a lovely silhouette. That he honestly didn’t even know he had. The whole thing was shining with an angelic glow, the sunlight glancing off of it in the best way. It had just been pieces in his mind but now it was whole. And HIM. His. Whichever. 

They all stood in silence for a long time. Neither twin having any idea what to say and Bendy unsure when to jump in, not wanting to take this moment from them. It went on for almost three whole minutes.

Though, Bendy had never been very good at staying silent, “Sooo, I suppose ‘ya like the suit.” It’s a joke that is so warm and dopey it nearly gives Mugman a cavity upon hearing it. 

Then he feels something bubbling up, massively unexpected, he had thought he’d end up crying. He was wrong. Mugman felt his shoulders begin to shake with laughter, loud and happy. It rang in the large room like a bell chiming. 
Cuphead was quick to follow with his own laughter, doubling over with his free hand on his knee. His other arm was occupied by Bendy’s two hands. The demon shifted his gaze incredulously between the twins. At least they were happy.

“Mugsy! You look like one of those fancy princes from your books!” Cuphead said when he straightened up, waving his hand towards Mugman. The statement made Mugman start to spin around in his outfit, watching how his veil flowed behind him. Giggling like a child would, just so completely happy that words couldn’t cut it. 

He looked like a prince, but maybe… In his own mind he could think how he felt like a princess instead. 

There was a pattering of feet and that was all the warning Mugman got before Cuphead practically lunged at him. The red twin picked him right off of his feet and squeezed. Hard enough that he could hear his back pop.

“Cuphead! Let go! You’re gonna wrinkle it!” Mugman shouts, patting his brothers back. He was actually a little nervous the fabric might get bent, as stupid as that was. He just didn’t wanna mess it up.

His brother didn’t let go, but loosened his hold. Mugman stopped thumping him on his back and squeezed him as well. Then he thought to himself, a nagging question creeping in. 

“Bendy, Why would you make a wedding suit for me?” Mugman starts, halfway muffled by his brother's shoulder. Bendy knew he didn’t have anyone. So a wedding suit? No matter how sweet it was it felt out of place. He prodded, “I don’t really have anyone, Bendy.”

The demons stepped forward, his tail swinging behind him, contemplative. He stood behind Cuphead, still giving them a proper distance but wanting to be close as well. Bendy speaks, his eyes staring deeply into Mugmans,“Well, It's to show you that you do have someone-” Bendy gestures to himself and Cuphead, “You have us.”

Cuphead nods his head in his brother's shoulder, mumbling his own answer, “Yeah, Mugsy.” Cuphead set him down now but still didn’t let go. Mugs felt his eyes shine, they hadn’t forgotten him.

“That wedding suit is a promise,” Bendy continued, a hand now on the small of his husband's back. A motion to show unity, that he was there with them both. Mugman sniffled a little bit but no tears threatened to fall. His brother-in-law spoke again, a comforting drawl, “A promise from us that you’ll be loved. With or without a romantic partner.”

His brother finally lets him go, falling back to stand by Bendy, only a couple feet away. The demon's hand still rested on his back, and his tail spun around his ankle. It seemed Bendy had been more clingy than Mugman had realized. Maybe he hadn’t been comfortable enough to show it until now.

“Maybe you’ll get to wear it sooner or later,” Bendy says, now glancing between the twins again. It seems he was always gauging their reactions, watching to make sure nothing was wrong. Nothing was. Mugman was fidgeting with his suit now, unconsciously fixing the small wrinkles that had formed from the hug. This thing had really grown into his prized possession in a matter of minutes. But Bendy decides to wipe him out with his next words, “And maybe I could be there to see you wear it, whenever it happens.”

Mugman had to do a double take. All this and Bendy still wasn’t sure if he'd be allowed to come to his, hypothetical, wedding? Had he really been so standoffish? Mugman wanted to reassure the demon but his mouth couldn’t open. He was still frozen.

“Sooner,” Cuphead amended, crossing his arms. He leaned a little, glancing behind the curtain to the table on the other side of the room. The one holding a single orange lily in a small vase. Cuphead grinned with a raised eyebrow, very unsubtly.  The motion also pushed Bendy, who had been holding his husband's arm on the side he had to shift to see. Though Bendy had a more uneasy look on his face, he didn’t say anything. Replacing the frown with another soft smile.

After some embarrassed spluttering from Mugman he finally found his words, still breathless,“I don’t know what to say. I can’t thank you enough.” His thumbs are rubbing at his silver buttons, and even traveling up to smooth the indent fingerprint underneath his brooch. It all meant too much to bear. 

“You don’t have to,” Cuphead says, drawling as he waves his brother off. He leaned back, pulling his spouse with him. The cup now had his arm snug around Bendy’s shoulders. He nodded again, rubbing his demon's shoulder, “We’re family.”

Bendy agreed immediately, leaning ever so closer in Cuphead, “Yeah.” They beamed at him together.

The Cuphead reaches into his back pocket, “One more thing, Mugsy.” Bendy shifts to give him ample space to dig it out and then follows him forward when he offers it to Mugman. A key.

“You forgot this when you left, Mugsy,” Cuphead continues, it was a house key. Mugman had left it behind, on purpose, when he left. He felt like he had to distance himself, give them space. Guess he had been wrong. So, so, very wrong. He reached out to take the key, a golden thing with a green embellishment, it wasn’t heavy in his hand.

Mugman looked up at them, a warm smile on his face, but they were already gone. Fading back into his memory. The mug closed his fist and held the key close to his chest. Cementing this lesson into his head again. It seems his time being dead had really brought up that old unnecessary fear.

He was back in the bar again, the sticky wood shoved in his face where he laid his head. But the disgusting counter didn’t irk him like usual, a sad smile on his face. Bendy’s powers didn’t stop at contracts or ink, hell, it even started in his words and how he held himself. 

Bendy was a good match for his brother, they deserved each other. Maybe one day he’d get to see them together again. He wished it even more than he wanted for a spouse, well, not really. But it was a close thing.

Mugman slid his head to the side, not worried about his soul liquid dripping out like he would've been in life. Their souls had run dry though they didn’t feel soulless. Death, they guessed. But he was more focused on his brother; Cuphead was playing that song again. 

The rest of the band had gotten quiet, resting , waiting for Cuphead to finish his soulful solo. It didn’t have a punch to it like his other songs did, just a low cloying melody. Slow and intimate. Mugman had a suspicion it was for Bendy, whenever he made it down here. It was refined everyday, things added onto it or taken away. The mug even remembered him humming something like it down in hell, his mind still on his husband even as his skin was being pulled off. 

The bar wasn’t quiet, the melody not dragging anyone in. That was fine. It wasn’t for them. Mugman hummed along under his breath, not noticing as his hand slowly started disintegrating. Pieces of bone and porcelain folded into itself floating upwards, up up up. 

Cuphead looked over, sensing his brother's gaze. His hands faltered when he finally saw the dust coming from his brother. He couldn’t even shout in warning before Mugman was gone with the wind, a panicked face the last thing he saw. The cup shoots up from his bench, knocking it down behind him. 

“Mugs?!?” He shouts, blinking his eyes desperately. As if he could will him back by sheer force alone. Had he been taken back to hell? Dragged away from limbo quietly? Did anyone else see that?

Breathes he didn't need rattled down his form, the fleshy socket on his leg shifting disconcertedly. Everyone in the bar was at least looking at him sideways, some more than others. Chalice was far back enough that she couldn’t see what happened. But others could and they seemed unphased.

“Where did he go?! What the hell?!?” Cuphead shouted, falling off the stage to rush over to where his brother had been. Nothing was there. 

There was a snickering from somewhere, it came from all around Cuphead and he scowled. He recognized that laughter. Ben Drowned popped his head up from inside of the bar, a ripple around his neck on top of the wood.

“What a moron. You’re brothers just up stairs,” Ben says, rolling his eyes as he continues to chuckle at the cup's plight. When Cuphead gives him a baffled look the ghost just holds up a finger to the ceiling and points. He nudges him again, “He’s on visitation to the living world.”

What?

Chalice comes walking around the counter, Cuphead's cry having startled her into motion. But she hears what Ben said and visibly relaxes against the counter. “Christ, Cups! Scared my socks off. It’s just visitation,” She says like it was obvious. Well it wasn’t obvious to Cuphead.

“What the hell is visitation?” He asked, still looking around for any sign of his brother. Being away from him when the last time they were separated Mugman died? Yeah he’s panicked.

Zooble sets a claw on top of Cupheads hand and pats him placatingly. Cups wants to rip his hand away but he keeps it still. Though his atrophied muscles twitch to get away. “He’ll be back. That’s all you gotta worry about,” They say, removing their hand after they get his attention.

“Yeah! Basically someone just summoned him, must’ve found his body and resurrected it with a spell!” Spinel says, spinning around on a barstool. Her limbs squeak as she moves around, antsy.

Go…up? Like where Bendy was? 

His mind changed gears quickly, if Mugman could go, why couldn’t he? How come no one told him about this? That he could go see Bendy? Not let an argument be their last conversation? 

“How do I go?” He demands, a little still caught on his worry and now irritated that he hadn’t been told this in the first place. He turns his gaze over to his cousin. Chalice would have to had known this.

She looked wretched, a deep frown on her face. Chalice had purposely kept this from them, why? The widow beat him to his own question and answered. Her voice was firm even though it was ashamed, “I’m sorry Cups. You can’t go. Mugman shouldn’t even be up there either. You’re only protected here in limbo. Your soul is exposed when you leave. Even when you’re in the land of the living.”

Cuphead turned away, he didn’t want to hear it anymore. Not only could he not visit Bendy but every moment above ground Mugman was endangering himself. He spun away from Ben's face, Chalices gaze and sunk into the chair Mugman had been in. He was going to wait right here until he returned.

“HE WILL BE OKAY, DEAR FRIEND!” Papyrus comes up to Cuphead, patting his shoulder with his thickly gloved hand. The orangish red thing engulfed his shoulder easily. The cup nodded up at the skeleton. Papyrus was kind and he wouldn’t lie, Cuphead could trust him. Trust Papyrus’ hope. 

“Alright. I’m sure he’ll be okay then,” He responds, a little paranoid even still. He hoped Mugman was safe.

Above ground Shelly was having a pretty… unusual day. Not bad, not good, though it had its pits and its shining moments. One such moment was meeting her future husband, Boris. All her fears seemed to be for nothing, he was a good man and would make a great life partner. At least from what she could tell. But, one of the pits today was the recent vows they attempted. Shelly could get through them easily, she had memorized it… literally hours ago. But it seems no matter what Boris couldn’t remember it.

She assumed it was pure nerves, Boris didn’t seem like a fool. Just that he had been thrust into a room of strangers and forced to perform. Guess it was pretty scary. Shelly felt for him. Her guardians and the minister, Sammy Lawrence, didn't seem to share the empathy she had. Bendy just looked haunted, if Shelly was remembering her studies correctly he was wearing a mourning cloak specific for spouses.

 It just led to an even worse environment for Boris’ obvious social anxiety until he had to leave, he even RAN from the church. It was awful but she mostly felt freed, even a little relieved that she could get out and stretch her legs. She was just walking around town now, everyone else stayed at the church. As Boris ran a figure emerged from the shadows, she believed he introduced himself as Bowlboy? 

What a name. And he wanted a chance for her hand? Luckily she was sure that her engagement to Boris would ward him off. Boris was decently wealthy and even if Vee loathed the horrendous etiquette enough to throw the wolf out; Sprout would refuse it. The shell sighed to herself, holding her skirts in her hand. 

She had found her way into a small babbling brook, just off the edge of town. Shelly had wanted to follow Boris into the woods, maybe comfort him, but her heels had made her stop short. They really were so impractical, her feet were red and agitated around the edges and they hurt like hell. 

The heels were now sitting on the shore as she soaked her feet in the cold water. She had her skirt gathered up in her hands, it was heavy but with how Vee was already steaming about the botched vows the dinosaur didn’t want to push it any further by showing up with a wet dress. Even if it was just the hem the android would spin out. 

Then there was rustling from the trees coming from right in front of her. Shelly tensed and waited, it could just be a deer or something. Maybe it was Boris? She waited, scrunching her toes in the water as she looked on. 

But an animal she didn’t expect came from out of a bush; a grey pitbull. Her eyes widened, this dog was drenched in dry blood. A very old stain that had never been fully washed off. It wasn’t the dog's blood, he seemed unharmed but hungry, his skin hanging off of him.

Shelly gasps and starts to coo at the poor thing. She scoots closer to the edge of the brook that’s near the dog. “Awww, sweet baby! Come here boy,” the dinosaur says, catching down and reaching out, damning her dress but she didn’t care.

The pit bull whimpers and backs away, it's muffled through a long stick he’s holding in his mouth. He moves away behind a tree, trying to hide himself. It broke Shelly’s heart. She kneeled down fully and started clicking her tongue. Reaching out again, “Come on, baby. I’m not gonna hurt you!”

He leaned his head down, bits of drool around the stick dripping down onto the ground. The pitbull stepped closer, ever so slightly. His little nub of a tail was flicking, could he trust her?

Shelly slid forward on her knees, still cooing. That baby wasn’t gonna leave on her watch. 

Finally the dog seemed to decide, walking up to her with his ears drawn back and his head still hung in fear. As he approached the stick started to look more sleek than something that would belong in a forest. Sort of like a cane?

“There you are, hi baby,” The dinosaur says when the dog finally reaches her. Shelly’s hands smooth over the dog's face and scratch his back, picking up flakes of blood. Then she lets the pitbull smell her hand, his tail picks up in speed, wagging his butt too. He gives a whine, sounding like he hadn’t been shown kindness in weeks.

She tried to grab the cane from his mouth but he growled in warning. He wasn’t letting go, not for anything. Shelly leaves it but reaches for his collar, it’s covered in spikes with a small name tag on the front.

“Spike? That you little guy?” Shelly says as she reads the front, squinting past the dried up blood. Celestials, this poor dog was covered in it. The dog responded to the name though, setting his front legs onto her knee, dropping drool onto her skirt. 

Shelly flips around to the back, reading the owner's name aloud, “Elder Kettle?”

Spike goes crazy, barking so resolutely that he knocks the cane out of his mouth. He spins in a circle, yapping like mad.

That brought a small smile from her lips, before the combination of clues fell on top of her. A loyal companion covered in blood carrying a cane with an owner named Elder Kettle? Has Spike come out for help? Has the old man been hurt?

Shelly stands up to her full height and steps out of the creek. She didn’t even bother grabbing her heels, she could walk without them if she needed to.

“Show me him, bring me to him, Spike,” she commands, patting the dogs back. The pitbull barks once more before scooping up the cane again and bolting into the treeline. He looked back and paused  until Shelly started to run as best she could after him. Hopefully Kettle was alright, and that she could at least try and help him. 

Shelly wished she had her tools or anything but that’d waste time she didn’t know that the old man had. Little did she know what she would find. Nor that her fiancé was being dragged into limbo by his new ‘Husband.’

She certainly wasn’t aware of the figure who saw her run off. A woman with horns and a halo, clutching at the tree she had been hidden behind. Alice was frowning, looking saddened. She followed the other woman silently, sticking to the shadows.