Chapter Text
B-52 had not been prepared for this.
His first and only thought upon the long trek back to the restaurant had been to wash all the grease off his mechanical limbs and wings, which ached and throbbed with every step.
Everything went by in a daze - Black Tea and Milk’s idle chatter, Bamboo Rice’s pets skittering all over and being a nuisance. B-52 remained silent, even as he cursed out the fallen angels in his mind with every step.
The blond had entered the restaurant, sighing and sinking into a seat alone from the rest of his teammates, when he heard steady footsteps approach and a familiar “Welcome back, B-52.”
He had turned around then, the easy greeting familiar on his tongue, only for him to discover that his companion had cat ears on his head.
Cute, fluffy little black ears that seemed to be twitching curiously at him.
Oh, right.
“Br-Brownie,” B-52 stuttered out, which was absolutely ridiculous, because B-52 did not stutter and oh god Brownie was wearing a cute, frilly maid’s dress. He tried not to let his eyes wander too far, but he could tell from Brownie’s slight step backwards that he’d let it fester for too long.
“Ah, yes. Master Attendant got me this… outfit today.” Brownie’s dark skin seemed flusher than usual. He refused to meet the blond’s eyes, looking down at the black and white ruffles of his skirt while standing stiffly. “I don't understand how this will help me perform my duties better, but if they ask it of me, I’ll do it.”
“Yes. I. I, uh…” What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck - Still reeling from the surprise, B-52 willed the flush in his cheeks to be banished forever as soon as he noticed that Brownie’s cute little cat ears were drooping, as if he were a real cat.
Brownie tugged at his red tie, blue eyes flitting back and forth. “I understand it's sudden,” he finally settled on saying. His ears flicked.
B-52 forced his palms to steady and for him to gulp down a large amount of air before he managed to work up the courage to take a few steps forward and say, “I think you look great.”
Great isn't what I wanted to say, he thought, but for now it was good enough. Brownie’s ears flicked, and B-52 swore he could see a hint of a smile on the stoic boy’s face.
“I'm glad you think so,” Brownie said, a current of warmth in his voice. He took B-52 by the arm as he always did, polite but friendly. Maybe Brownie said something about looking out for himself more, or about taking care about his mechanical parts, but B-52 seemed stuck in his little world where the only thing that existed was how cute his partner was.
Slam. The door sent B-52 back into reality. He looked around, realising he was in his room and sadly enough, with no Brownie.
Slowly, he sunk into his warm, soft, inviting bed. His back still ached, but it'd faded to a dull throb. The sheets were already folded and washed by you-know-who. B-52 traced their texture for a little while, his heartbeat stilling to a healthier tempo.
He grabbed a pillow and closed his eyes, smiling.