Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The flimsy roof of a certain shed rattled softly as a cold breeze went through Octo Valley. Keeping its owner from his sweet, well deserved sleep. Winter wasn’t far away and Craig Cuttlefish was far from being prepared for it.

Although his granddaughters had brought him plenty of blankets and warm cloth a week prior, the old man only wrapped himself in a cut up bedspread. The two idols always worried about him and repeatedly asked if he needed anything else, only to have their old man flash a cheeky smile and shake his head. He assured them that their company was all he'd ever ask for. Deep down he knew it was a terrible idea to use those blankets for his beloved zapfish plushies, having lost count of how many he had made since Agent 3 visited. But he just couldn't help himself. 

After all, it was such a joy to watch the young inkling go back and rush through the missions again, trying to beat their best time and seek out sunken scrolls. Even though the squiddo wasn't very chatty, he could tell that they loved the satisfaction of successfully retrieving a plushie at the end of every mission.

Their enthusiasm reminded him of his time as a young soldier. 

Before the war. 

…

"Cuttlefish." a low, grumpy voice called out to him, ripping him out of his thoughts. 

The elderly inkling turned his head, directing his sight at the giant snow globe that held his (involuntary) shedmate. 

"Go get another blanket, I can hear your teeth chattering from over here. It's obnoxious." Octavio grunted out. Craig was aware that the old octoling was quietly observing him all the time, so it wasn't unlikely that he also noticed him shaking. Shaking more than the old man usually does, that is.

"Well, ain’t you considerate.” Cuttlefish chirped in a sarcastic manner, immediately trying his best to suppress his shaking to invalidate Octavio’s worries. “I’m A’ okay with just this one. You look after yourself, got it?”

“Liar,” the DJ sighed, rolling his eyes.

“I don’t give a squid if you’re cold or not, it's just that I would like to have a good 8 hours of sleep. To preserve whatever little sanity I have left after being stuck in this damn globe all day.” he banged a tentacle against the thick glass, in vain. “Your grandkids brought you more than enough, so at least honor their gift.”

Cuttlefish shot an embarrassed look at the space where once a large pile of warm cloth lay. Octavio followed his treacherous glance.

“You used them all for those silly plush fish, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I did not.” 

“5 plush fish weren’t enough, no. Captain Craig Cuttlefish had to make at least THIRTY THREE of them!” the DJ groaned exaggeratedly.

 At least one of them was keeping track, Cuttlefish thought to himself.

“Well, if this was my only blanket, what do you propose I do? Run to Inkopolis to get another one? In the middle of the night? At my age?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at Octavio, who was rubbing his tentacle in pain. 

A short silence manifested before Octavio answered:

“Let me out and I’ll tell you.”

Let me out. A phrase Cuttlefish had become way too accustomed to hearing in the past few months. He truly held a grudge against his former husband, but it still felt… cruel keeping him trapped in that ol’ snowglobe. Even though it was for the greater good of inklingkind. It wasn’t helping that the globe was ice cold when he cleaned it this morning. The thing also held so little space that Octavio barely fit in alongside his sizable ration of wasabi. 

Cuttlefish knew that THE Octavio Takowasa, king of the Octarians and capable commander of Octolings, would never even think of asking for forgiveness or beg for freedom, even if it meant freezing to death in a comically large glass sphere. He’d rather stare his captor down with a deadly glare and demand his freedom until they gave in. And oh boy was the captain close to giving in.

Cuttlefish scratched his long beard in consideration. Perhaps he could, just this once.

“Fine.”

“What?!”

“I said fine.”

He got up and walked towards the snow globe without another word, struggling to bend down as he opened the hatch. When it was open, he simply took a step back and watched what Octavio would do next.

But all the king did was stare at him, completely dumbfounded. Octavio never would’ve expected that his nemesis let him out, especially not like this.

“So, what’s your grand idea?”

No response.

Octavio simply slipped out of his spherical jail without a word, visibly gasping for the cold fresh air that blew through the valley. Looking as if he had held his breath for years, he sat on the ground, exhausted and confused.

“Well?” Cuttlefish asked again.

The octopus finally caught his breath and spoke, stumbling over his sentence:

“What are you- Why are you letting me go?”

“I’m not letting you go, I’m letting you out. I held up my end of the bargain, now it’s your turn.” the captain replied, praying that Octavio wouldn't run the moment the shock wore off.

But he didn't run. He sat, pondering, actually trying to come up with an idea as fast as possible to make it look as if he didn’t just bluff his way out of captivity. If there was one thing Cuttlefish was sure Octavio hated, it had to be thanking an Inkling. So he put every single brain cell in his nine brains to work, in order to come up with a plan. He scanned the area with his eyes, looking for anything that could keep them warm.

Nothing.

Nothing but a gigantic pile of plushies and the laughably crummy mattress that Agent 1 and Agent 2 tried to replace countless times, only to be met with protests from their grandfather.

Octavio cleared his throat, followed by a stiff declaration: “I have an idea, but neither of us are going to like it.”

"I'm all ears.”

“Remember when we used to… huddle up when we were out on the field?”

Oh god.

Octavio didn’t even dare to look in the captain’s general direction out of shame. The same gesture being returned by the Inkling, but not with the same intention. The air-headed old man was staring into space again, weighing out his options. It was either being haunted by the merciless cold of the night, or haunted by the painful memories of his forced divorce caused by the war. 

He was way too lost in thought to notice that the DJ was no longer in front of him.

Suddenly, a loud crash near the shed grabbed his attention by the throat, instinctively turning him to see what had caused the noise. It seems like Octavio's absence wasn’t the only thing that he hadn’t noticed.

Oh gee.

An old, tall man was rummaging through his belongings. His tentacles curled up underneath his majestic crown, complemented by his mustache and thick furrowed brows. His green eyes still searching for something warm. Cuttlefish couldn’t help but ogle the man as he carelessly moved around his belongings with his strong arms. He absolutely was capable of snapping him in half like a twig if he wanted to.

He hadn’t seen him like this in at least 100 years. And it was hard not to admit that Octavio was still gosh darn handsome, even if he looked wildly different from when they said their vows at the altar. 

Well, at least he was certain what he’d choose now.

“You look good.” is all the bewildered Inkling could blurt out. He had 100 years, and this is all he managed to say at seeing his husband's humanoid form again? Inkcredible.

Octavio simply shot a glance at Cuttlefish and then returned to rummaging through his stuff, desperately trying to find literally anything to use for warmth so that he could avoid going through with the terrible idea that he himself had suggested earlier.

Nothing, again.

The king perched on the ground behind the mattress in defeat, crossing his arms like he usually did, along with the same crabby expression he usually wore on his face. He may look different, but he still acted unmistakably himself. 

“I guess there ain’t another choice, huh?” Cuttlefish said as he sat beside him.

“I suppose there isn’t, you have so much stuff around here, yet I can’t even build a heater. All you own is garbage and a squidton of plushies.” Octavio muttered. 

“So what I’m hearing is that you like the plushies?” the captain remarked with a smile, ignoring the rude comment about his quaint collection of keepsakes.

Octavio rolled his eyes dramatically for the second time this evening and huffed out: “They might outnumber our chance to sleep tonight, but yes, I think they’re not too terribly made.”

Cuttlefish couldn’t help but chuckle at the Octoling’s attempt to dodge giving him any kind of compliment. 

“Speaking of that, we could at least use the plushies to shelter ourselves from the wind.” the pretty(,) old man added. He got up and grabbed as much of them as he could, dropping them where Cuttlefish was seated.

“H-Hey!” the captain shrieked as he was covered in an avalanche of plush fish.

“GYAHAAHAHA~” he teased with roaring laughter, which was cut off by Craig retaliating and hurling a fish directly in his smug face. 

A short moment of shared har-de-har drowned out the howling of the icy wind. Maybe spending the night cuddling with his enemy of 100 years wasn’t going to be as unpleasant as one would assume. After building what was basically a rampart around the mattress, the two men sat there. The realization of actually having to share a single mattress with one another, making skin to skin contact, dawned on them.

Taking the initiative, the captain laid down, having his back turned to the middle of the mattress, closing his eyes without another word. Not long after, he could feel Octavio lay down next to him.

OH GEE.

He was tall enough to completely cover the captain’s curled up body with his stomach alone, his chubby body was soft and comfortable against his back. As the DJ wrapped an arm around Cuttlefishes’ tiny fragile form, Cuttlefish nearly had a heart attack. He hoped that Octavio couldn't hear his racing heart, attempting to calm down as best as he could. At the very least he wasn't cold anymore, as he was breaking out in sweat from his situation and… interesting thoughts about his nemesis. 

Cuttlefish focused on his own breath, regulating it. This was only for one night. Tomorrow he’d immediately ring up his granddaughters and ask for more blankets, all he needed was an excuse. What happened tonight would be never spoken or thought of again. Although he thought it was nice.

Remembering the times before the war where the two of them would snuggle up, keeping eachother warm and safe, forgetting about the rising tides and salmonoids they killed out in the battlefield. Everything was fine until chaos slowly consumed the world, tearing the young couple further apart, until they faced each other in battle.

“Goodnight.” a low voice whispered right behind him, lifting him out of his downward spiral of thoughts.

“Goodnight.” he quietly answered. He could feel himself slowly drifting off to sleep.

…

Bright sunbeams tickled his nose, taunting him to finally wake up. The captain took up the entire mattress wrapped in a blanket warm and comfortably, refusing to get up.

Until he noticed…

His warmth was gone.

Cuttlefish shot up, hurriedly searching his surroundings for the DJ, who was nowhere to be found. He called out his name.

Nothing.

He sat down, resting his back against the empty snow globe, completely deflated. What did he expect? Octavio was probably waiting for a chance like this for months, trying to bail as soon as possible to get back to scheming plans that involved stealing the zapfish. He probably didn’t give a damn about his former husband, did he?

The captain returned to the mattress with a hanging head, hoping that tidying up the plushies could distract him from his thoughts. 

Where did that come from?

He picked up the blanket he was wrapped in this morning, only now realizing that he’d never seen that one before.

There was no way.

Chapter Text

Seeing Octo Canyon covered in Snow was certainly an unfamiliar sight, the old inkling thought to himself as he returned, oblivious to the events that had transpired in his absence. 

He had been out with Agent 3 on a research trip, leaving the cabin and the canyon for quite a while. He never would’ve guessed that in those few months his dearly detested would brainwash his granddaughter and steal the great Zapfish once again.

He was appalled when his grandchildren filled him in after he arrived at Cuttlefish cabin.

The captain was no doubt incredibly proud of Marie’s leadership skills and relieved that Callie was alright, but he felt horrible that something like this could’ve happened in the first place. Especially since he enabled it.

“Don’t worry Gramps, we’ll visit again on Squidmas!” Callie gushed as she and her cousin were getting ready to leave. It was hard for their grandpa to see them depart so soon after they dropped that bombshell on him, but he knew that they were too busy with their music career and young people stuff. 

“I sure do hope so! And also, take care of yourselves, you two.” He pulled them into a big hug. 

“Hmh, we will. You take care of yourself too, Gramps.” Marie mumbled with one of her signature half-smiles. She may not show it, but she really meant it.

“Alright, we’ll be off now! Bye byeeee, Gramps!” Callie cheered in a sing-song voice, while waving. 

As they took off, Cuttlefish could hear the canyon get quieter and quieter by the second. The two of them really brought color back into the small cabin whenever they visited. Which faded once again now.

Now he was all alone. At least so he thought. 

The soft sound of bubbles proved his line of thought wrong. The old inkling quickly turned his head and saw that the old snow globe held a prisoner once again. The same prisoner.

The joy of seeing his granddaughters safe and sound made him forget the fact that he caused all of this, if only for a brief moment.

Looking at him in that glass prison really shouldn’t have been as painful as it was. He kidnapped Callie, which made the captain absolutely furious. How dare Octavio try and lay a finger on her. Especially after he trusted him enough to let him out of that snowglobe back then. He deserved every second of this. Right?

“What are you looking at?” the octoling said mockingly, returning the angry glare Cuttlefish shot towards him. 

“Ah, nothin’. Just admiring your failed plans of world domination, that’s all.” Cuttlefish responded sarcastically.

That certainly hit the hornet’s nest.

“OH PLEASE! As if your plans are any better! You survived Arowana Castle because I LET YOU! Inklingkind would’ve NEVER won that war if I didn’t fall for you and your sugar-coated lies!” Octavio shouted furiously, pulling off his shutter shades. If looks could kill, Cuttlefish would be in a grave deeper than the mariana trench.

Averting his gaze, the old inkling sat down on the pillow that lay on the wooden bench that was attached to the cabin. He wasn’t gonna let Octavio’s words get to him, he had just been through a long journey and was way too cold to bother. He needed something to warm himself up.

“Don’t give me the silent treatment. I’m not finished talking yet, CUTTLEFISH!”

 A cup of tea sounded great right about now.

So, without a second thought, he got up and retrieved an old-timey kettle, a few tea bags  and a cup from his cabin, put the kettle on a portable stove and cranked up the heat. The warmth of the stove and the sound of the slowly boiling water was quite calming.

 It reminded Cuttlefish of something.

…

His attention slowly returned to the snowglobe.

“Are you done ignoring me?” the octoling called out to him once again. He had curled up at the bottom of the glass sphere. Was he cold too?

“I’m ‘fraid so.” Cuttlefish answered. “It’s pretty hard to ignore you after what you’ve done.”

“GYAHAHAH! There you go again, VILLAINIZING everything I do, so you can feel better about yourself!” Octavio laughed bitterly, staring the old man down.

“Oh, I’m not villainizing ya. You’re the one stealing and kidnapping, I’m simply responding to your actions.” the old man croaked defensively.

Crossing his tentacles, the DJ lowered his head into them, trying to obscure his anger at those words. That scar revealed itself once again. It was clear that now that he had the captain's attention, he was going to choose his words wisely so as to not lose it. 

“...Responding to my actions, huh? Aren’t these the results of yours?”

There was a long silence. If the whistling of the kettle getting louder hadn’t broken it, they might’ve wordlessly sat there for the rest of their long lives. Cuttlefish turned off the stove and put a single teabag in his cup, struggling to pour the hot water over it. His shaking always got worse during winter. 

The king was watching him carefully.

After what seemed to be a way too long time to pour a single cup of tea, the captain was successful. He was quite proud of himself. Not a single spill. Not a single burn. He sat there on a comfy cushion, warming his hands on his perfectly poured cup of tea.

And the DJ was cramped in a snow-covered snow globe. He was a sorry sight.

“Let’s yak about it over a cup of tea, dear.” Those words left his mouth faster than he could think. The cheerfulness of those words was almost scary.

“...Are you serious?”

“Yup.”

Although he didn’t put much thought into them, the captain wasn’t gonna abandon ship now and go back on his words, so he put down the cup, grabbed his cane and walked towards the globe and shakily opened the hatch once more. Praying that this time things would go differently as he turned his back and dilly-dallied back to the cabin.

Cuttlefish seated himself again, picking up his cup in the process.

Meanwhile Octavio, now outside his prison, simply sat there in the snow, unmoving.

Cuttlefish patted the space beside him.

Octavio shook his head.

Knowing that he clearly had the upper hand in this game of mutual stubbornness, Cuttlefish took a blanket out and got comfortable, watching his opponent.

It took a surprisingly short time for his victory.

Rolling his eyes as he switched forms, Octavio sluggishly stomped towards him. He was a bit less coordinated than last time they saw each other, but still just as handsome.

Cuttlefish was joined by the king, who unceremoniously dropped himself next to him with crossed arms. Since the bench wasn’t very big, their bodies were squished together like sardines. (Which Cuttlefish didn’t mind at all.) Realizing that Octavio did in fact not have a cup, he handed him his. The octoling hesitated at first, but then accepted the cup.

“Here, I’ll get another” mumbled the captain as he quickly entered his cabin and returned with a second cup within no time. 

Cuttlefish was now put in front of the great feat that was cup number 2. So he sat down again, readying himself for another successfully poured cup of tea. He shakily picked up the kettle, struggling to keep it as steady as last time, almost spilling-

A large hand wrapped around the hand he was pouring with, keeping the kettle stable. 

Another perfect cup. 

Cuttlefish couldn’t help but smile as he put the kettle down, turning his palm upward to hold Octavio’s hand. It was a bold move for the situation they found themselves in, but he could see the man’s expression soften as he slowly returned the gesture. They simply sat there for a minute, looking at each other's intertwined hands, neither of them wanting to let go. 

Perhaps now that they’ve both calmed down a bit, it was time to talk about the things that kept them apart. Even if it hurts to do so.

The old man took a deep breath, collecting himself to make the first step.

“Tell me what made you do it. I want to understand.” Cuttlefish whispered. He took a sip from his tea, gently caressing Octavio’s hand with his thumb.

There was no response at first as the king simply lowered his gaze to his cup, watching the dark liquid reflect his likeness. His expression was unreadable and so were his thoughts. Cuttlefish would’ve given everything to know what was going on in Octavio’s pretty head right now.

Patience, the inkling thought to himself.

“The war never ended, Craig.” Octavio began quietly. “At least not for those who were doomed to live underground. Every day was a struggle to survive down there, with barely any food and electricity. We needed those damn Zapfishes more than anyone else. I spent day and night planning the heist. It was flawless.”

He paused, tracing the brim of the cup. His grip tightening slightly.

“After we got our hands on them, the domes were finally somewhat livable again. The energy crisis was over and we could focus on rebuilding Octo Valley… That was until you and Agent 3 came along.” the old octoling smiled bitterly at that last part, avoiding eye contact. 

“I…I’m so sorry.. I didn’t know.” Cuttlefish lied. He had been spying on the octarians this whole time, of course he knew. He got those Zapfishes back because he believed that his species needed them just as much as the octarians and had a right to them. That’s what he’s been told, and what he’s been telling himself. Octavio’s words made him question that. 

He was right, the war never ended.

“I heard the way you talk about us octarians. Don't lie to me.” there was no fooling him.

“I don’t see species.”

“Sure you don’t. That’s why you’re camping outside our kettles to watch everything we do like a hawk.”

Octavio was right again, even though Cuttlefish liked to deny it and was too wrapped up in his behavior to admit his microaggressions. The old inkling simply sighed instead of apologizing. 

“GYAHAHAHAH” another bitter laugh. “You know, after Arowana I hated you so much… I told myself that I should’ve never trusted you. I even told myself that falling in love with you was the worst mistake of my life. I despised how much I loved you for the past 100 years.”

“Glad to hear the feeling’s mutual.” Cuttlefish joked with a sad smile, Octavio’s words hit hard. “Every night I thought about you and how much I hated that I missed you. I just wanted to forget you and everything that happened between us…”

Their eyes met again, both of them wearing the most gut wrenching, regretful smiles on their faces. It was cathartic.

“But I still…” Cuttlefish paused. He still loved him. He really did. He wanted nothing more than to hold Octavio in his arms again, spending the rest of his days together with his husband. He wanted to make up all the time they’ve lost being separated from one another.

But it wasn’t that easy. Heavy-hearted, he tried again:

“But I don’t want this to continue. I don’t want to hate you and… I don’t want to lose you again.”

Cuttlefish had said some hard things in his life, but the following admission made them all seem effortless in comparison:

“I’ve treated you horribly, took advantage of your trust, betrayed your love and left you to die underground. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me, Tavi.”

He put down his cup, using his now free hand to shakily cup Octavio’s face. His tea was starting to get cold anyway.

The octoling leaned into his touch, yet his expression soured as he closed his eyes. He was fighting tears, trying to collect himself before he replied, but utterly failing. He, too ,let go of his cup of tea to touch the captain's hand, which laid on his cheek. 

“...Tavi…” is all Octavio could manage to say as tears streamed down his face. Cuttlefish hadn’t called him that in at least a century. His majesty had always refused to let anyone call him anything else than “King Octavio”, but for the inkling’s silly nicknames he made an exception. He simply used to shake his head and chuckle at them. With his beautiful warm laugh.

Before Cuttlefish knew it, he was crying too.

“...I- I love you…but I hate it so much.. It hurts, Craig.”  Octavio sobbed, pulling the smaller man into a hug, resting his head on his shoulder. “You and that- …that heavenly melody..”

“C’mere” Cuttlefish mumbled, gently patting the DJ’s back. “...It’s alright.”

They just sat there for a while, holding each other, bawling their eyes out. Both of them needed this more than anything right now. It hurt the captain to see Octavio in such emotional turmoil because of his words, his actions, his behavior. No amount of apologies could undo the damage that has been caused.

Was it ever possible to fix their relationship?

“...Cuttlefish?”

“...Yes?”

“I’m sorry..”

“For what…?”

Octavio mumbled something into his shoulder. 

"...What?''

The king lifted his head, looking directly into Cuttlefish’s eyes.

“...I’m really sorry for… kidnapping and brainwashing your granddaughter.” he whispered, clearly ashamed.

Cuttlefish was mad at him for doing that, very much in fact. So it was nice to hear the DJ feel sorry for his action, though it wasn’t for him to forgive Octavio for it.

“It’s not me you should apologize to, y’know that.” the old inkling replied, trying to let go of  his grudge in that department.

“I know, but still…I needed to get that off my chest.”

“Hmh…”

Another comfortable silence filled the cold evening air as hundreds of tiny snowflakes made their way towards the ground. The freezing cold didn’t bother the old inkling, since he was still wrapped in Octavio’s warm embrace. It was now becoming very apparent to him how tired he was from, well, everything that had happened today. He snuggled his head into the other man's chest, closing his eyes.

It didn’t take long for Cuttlefish to drift off to sleep.

…

He was suddenly awoken by a loud crash. Expecting to still be curled up in Octavio’s arms, Cuttlefish looked around quickly. No worries, he was inside his cabin on his bed. Octavio must’ve carried him inside. Speaking of him, the octoling was laying on the ground, surrounded by a pile of Zapfish plushies, struggling to get up.

“You okay there, Tavi?” Cuttlefish asked in an alarmed manner, getting up to help the clumsy man, offering him a hand.

“I’m fine, I just tripped over your mess. When have you last tidied this cabin?” Octavio huffed, taking Craig’s hand to help him get up again.

Dodging the question entirely, the inkling replied: “What were you doing anyway?”

“I was trying to… attend some important business.” the DJ spoke under his breath, avoiding eye-contact.

“You’re leaving already?” Cuttlefish held onto his hand, intertwining them again.

“You know I can’t stay here forever. My people need me and I’ve been gone for way too long.”

“Guess there’s no keeping you here then.”  the old man expressed, bowing forward to kiss Octavio’s hand in an overly formal manner. “Take care~”

Octavio softly chuckled at that silly gesture. It made all of Craig’s three hearts skip a beat simultaneously. He scratched his chin for a second, thinking.

“Perhaps I can stay for one more night.” the king declared, gently kissing the captain on his bald head. He knew exactly what he was doing to him and Cuttlefish was going to die from a heart attack if that handsome octoling kept it up.

Cuttlefish could only nod and smile in his excitement, probably blushing like crazy too. Still holding his hand, the inkling guided his husband through the absolute mess that was his cabin, to the mattress.

They laid down, facing each other, sharing their warmth once again. Octavio embraced Craig while he was carefully caressing the large scar on his arm. Nothing in the world could harm them now. It was a heavenly feeling. 

“Are you gonna stay for breakfast?” Cuttlefish yawned with lidded eyes.

Smiling deviously, Octavio leaned in very close:

“Make me.”

Oh gee.

Chapter Text

Cuttlefish really wasn’t a morning person; like most inklings, he preferred to snooze until the sun was high up in the sky. Today however was an exception, as someone gently shook him out of his dreams, which only caused the old man to further curl up on his mattress and groan in response. He was still exhausted from the events that had transpired last night. 

“C’mon, wake up already. I made breakfast.” Octavio grunted in a slightly annoyed tone, he must've been trying to wake him for quite a while.

Cuttlefish sleepily opened his eyes to see Octavio shrimp-sitting on the edge of his mattress with a spatula in hand. A strangely familiar smell hung in the air. “...Five more minutes…” The captain closed his eyes once again, pulling a blanket over his head to cover himself from the bright light that was shining through the windows.

“Hm. Alright then.” The DJ mumbled tiredly. He got up and hobbled towards the small stove that stood on the other side of the cabin, turning it off. “I guess I’ll have to eat all these Crabby Cakes myself… So sad...” 

That certainly caught the captain's interest.

“YOU MADE CRABBY CAKES?!” Cuttlefish beamed with excitement as he quickly sat up straight. Now wide awake as if he had drunk a whole team's worth of Tacticooler cans by himself. 

“Hmh. They’re delicious.” Octavio nodded, while taking a bite out of one. “Put on some clothes and get over here, if you want some.” he mumbled with a full mouth and put the other Crabby Cakes on a plate. Strange table manners, for the king. However, not so strange for Tavi. 

“Ya don’t have to tell me that twice!” Cuttlefish jumped out of bed and put on some pants in record time. It’s been a hundred years since he last got to eat his husband’s special Crabby Cakes, after all.

Octavio could only quietly smile at the captain’s exhilaration as he sat down at the small kotatsu that stood in the middle of the cabin, plate in hand. It didn't take long for the inkling to waddle over as well. 

Without hesitation, he dug in. As he bit into one, his tongue was flooded by a uniquely sweet taste that put every store-bought Crabby Cake to shame. But the best part was their spicy aftertaste, which was hot enough to make one’s mouth water uncontrollably. They were just perfect in every regard. It was only now that the old man realized how badly he craved this taste, among many other things. Sharing them with Octavio like this brought back lots of old memories.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence back in the day for them to sneak around at night, seeking adventure within and outside of the imposing castle walls. Those little adventures were usually Cuttlefish’s idea, since he was the more impulsive and thrill-seeking of the two. And although Octavio was rather responsible and goal-oriented, he happily went along with the inkling’s foolish ideas.

“Remember that one night when we broke into your castle’s pantry to get ‘cakes?” he asked amusedly, shoving one in his mouth.

The octoling pondered for a moment, then responded with a grin: “The one where we ended up triggering an alarm, which caused the entire castle to lockdown?”

“Precisely!”

“HAH! Best part was that those Crabby Cakes tasted like bass!” Octavio cackled. “They weren’t even nearly worth the trouble of explaining the whole situation to the guards for like 2 hours afterwards!” 

The captain shook his head, taking another one: “I thought they tasted great, but it seems like His Majesty has higher standards.”

“Don’t know what they fed you hillbillies back then, but if those stale Crabby Cakes were good, then these must be a gift from the heavens.” the king snorted, gesturing to the halfway empty plate of delicious biscuits.

“They are.” Cuttlefish confessed eagerly as he leaned forward. “I gotta admit, your cooking’s still impeccable. They're the best thing I’ve eaten in the past century.”

“Doesn't surprise me.” Octavio snarked with a squid-eating grin and crossed his arms, accompanied by a triumphant expression. The man just couldn’t take a compliment. But that didn’t discourage the captain.

Cuttlefish looked down at the Crabby Cake in his hand. He gently broke it in half, revealing its inside. It was still a little warm. The fact that Octavio really stayed the night and even made him breakfast made him feel ridiculously sentimental. It wasn’t the grandest of gestures, but it meant so much to the old inkling. 

“Y’know, they taste even better knowin’ they were made by you.” There was a brief silence before he continued quietly. “Thank you for staying.”

The king's smug grin slowly fell off his face, being replaced by a gentler smile. Cuttlefish could’ve sworn that he saw a blush on Octavio’s wrinkly cheeks for a fraction of a second before the octarian rested his chin in his hands and looked away. Didn't take much for Cuttlefish to fluster him back in the days, and it looks like it didn’t take much now.

“Said I would, didn't I?”

"Yes, but still. Thank you." 

The rest of their breakfast was spent in comfortable quietude, which was occasionally broken by their usual reciprocal teasing. As the plate grew emptier and emptier, it dawned on Cuttlefish that Octavio would probably take his leave soon. Although he knew that Octavio inevitably couldn't stay, it still saddened him to be apart. 

Octavio seemed to catch the dejected look, because he stared at him with a piercing glance. "What's with that face?" He questioned, claiming one of the last remaining Crabby Cakes for himself. There was only one left now. Meaning, the captain had to make up a reason to see Octavio again. Quickly.

Perhaps he could ask him out on a date. Something along the lines of dinner, maybe? Hold up, didn't his granddaughters say something about that?! 

Bingo.

“Would you like to come over for Squidmas dinner?” Cuttlefish shot out with a sweet smile, which was awkwardly accompanied by finger guns.

This earned him an exceptionally puzzled look from Octavio, who was seemingly so confused by the sudden shift in mood that he forgot to chew for a moment, almost choking.

Outstanding work, Cuttlefish. The inkling cringed internally.

Yet the king looked like he considered the offer for a moment. However, it didn’t take long for his face to scrunch up at the thought.

“Your… Agents are gonna be there too, aren’t they?” he asked hesitantly.

Oh right, he didn’t think that through.

“Maybe?”

“Cuttlefish.”

“Yes. Yes, they are. But I promise that it’ll be fine.” The captain tried to reassure him, even though he was not too convinced himself. 

“You sure? They’re gonna lose their squid if they see me outta the snowglobe.” Octavio inquired, tapping his fingers in a fast-paced rhythm.

There would certainly be complications and a very, very long conversation to be had. Something Cuttlefish didn’t look forward to at all.

“Well, they don’t know that I let you out yet, so perhaps-” 

“You’re not gonna put me in that damn snowglobe again, are you?” The old octoling visibly tensed up, scowling as he cut off the captain. His fingers clenched up into a fist, digging into his palm.

Instinctively reaching for Octavio’s hand, Cuttlefish attempted to comfort him. “No! I ain’t ever puttin’ you in there again, I promise.”

“Good.” Octavio quickly pulled his hand away, burying it in his arms as he crossed them. Hiding it away while he refused to even look at him.

Cuttlefish withdrew woefully as well, doing his best to think of another way. “But perhaps we can figure something else out?”

"Craig" Octavio sighed, now leering towards the door.  “If… whatever this is, wants to work out, we’ll have to tell them eventually. They’ll find out one way or another.”

Being the top agents in all of Inkadia, Marie and Callie were sure to pick up on it. The two of them were bright young women, who deeply cared about their family and could easily tell if something was wrong. Or wildly different, in this case. 

Curse that gorgeous man and his logical thinking.

“We’re too old to cause family drama, ain’t we?” Cuttlefish joked, trying to lighten the mood a bit. But his quip was only met with a lukewarm nod. An uncomfortable pause followed. “I’ll talk to ‘em” he choked out in an attempt to save what was left of this conversation. He doubted he could do it alone, but he had to. 

The octarian was still unconvinced.

“I understand if you don’t want to.” the captain said, attempting to hide the desolation in his voice as best as he could. “But I’d really like to be with you again, regardless.”

That seemed to do something, since the king’s attention returned to the man sitting opposite of him. His glance jumped around the room as if he was desperately searching for a response in the piles of clothes and plushies. He looked torn and worried. There was something else written on his face. It was hard to make out, but it appeared to be… longing.

Gently tugging at his mustache in contemplation, Octavio gave a vague answer: 

“...I’ll think about it.”

Having expected a hard "no" after this trainwreck of an invitation, Cuttlefish let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding. It wasn’t a straight up yes, but it wasn’t a no either. And hearing that he even had a teeny weeny chance at celebrating Squidmas together again with Octavio was like music to his ears. 

“Really?”

"Don't count on it, though. I'm sure I’ve got plenty of work to do when I get home." scratching his head in frustration, Octavio groaned. "The Wasabi supply unit is probably in shambles right now." he whispered to himself.

A minuscule possibility, but a possibility nonetheless. 

Without another word, Octavio carefully rose from his seat, depending heavily on the table to get back on his feet. He didn’t look too animated at the thought of leaving, but staying wasn’t an option. Maybe it was for the best, the man hadn’t seen his home in god-knows-how-long.

Taking Octavio’s cue, Cuttlefish got up as well. “Do ya mind if I come along and walk you to the nearest kettle?” 

“Clingy as always, I see.” the DJ replied, putting his spiky crown, which laid next to the mattress, back on. Was it even still a crown? Compared to the elegant golden headpiece he wore during their first meeting, it looked more like a hat to the inkling. Regardless, he still looked good with it.

“That’s a no?"

“Get dressed.”

And Cuttlefish did just so, donning a warm coat, a pair of snow-proof combat boots and a scarf. He would’ve put on his trusty captain cap, but he gave that one away to Agent 3. So he had to settle for a regular old hat. He now was prepared for the icy cold of freshly fallen snow.

Octavio? Not so much.

“Do ya’ really plan on going outside like that?” his words interrupted Octavio, who opened the door and was about to step outside. 

“What else do you propose I wear?” he answered pertly. A frosty gust greeted the DJ, prompting him to immediately close it again. His black leather jacket, ripped pants and tank top didn’t really provide any protection against the merciless cold. 

Bamboozler in hand, Cuttlefish got right to digging out another scarf out of a messy pile of clothes that laid on the floor. Octavio rolled his eyes, waited grouchily and leaned against the nearest wall. This wasn’t the first time a situation like this had happened. No husband of Cuttlefish’s was going to go outside and catch a cold. Not under his watch. Resistance was futile and Octavio knew that deep down, so he didn’t even bother trying to stop him.

Shortly after Cuttlefish held up a very large, brightly colored scarf and victoriously yelled “Here!”. The old man walked over and put it around Octavio’s neck, who had a visceral reaction of disgust upon seeing the thing.

“Cuttlefish. What the hell is this?”

“A scarf?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I dunno, you look alright to me.”

“Alright? ALRIGHT? I look like a clownfish.”

The inkling took a step back, taking in the outfit. Maybe the scarf and the octoling’s mostly black, edgy outfit clashed a bit, yes, but it wasn’t really worth making a fuss over.

“It’s a regular ‘fit.” he shrugged.

“It’s an offense to cephalokind and an affront to all that is fresh, that’s what it is.” Octavio retorted, stomping his foot. Yet, he made no effort to remove it, as if waiting for Cuttlefish to admit defeat and take it off for him, amending his grave mistake of suggesting an article of clothing that was slightly unfitting. 

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” Cuttlefish put his free hand on his hip. This was getting ridiculous. “The kettle ain’t even far from here, it’s just to keep you warm for those 5 minutes.”

“I can’t be seen wearing this. Take it off.”

“Do it yourself, Your Majesty.”

“Fine.” Octavio gnarled, dramatically taking off the scarf that was oh-so tainting his image and handing it to Cuttlefish. With a swift spin, he marched out the door, quick at first but slowing down significantly after a few steps.

Cuttlefish effortlessly caught up to him, scarf still in his left hand. The snow was a little less than knee-high, which was no problem with his snow boots but quite a problem for the octoling, who was already shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“Are ya willin’ to wear it now?” Cuttlefish raised an eyebrow and slightly smiled at him, offering his free arm to Octavio.

“Shut it.” the DJ barked as he took his arm, pulling him closer for warmth and support. It seemed like Octavio’s age was getting to him as well, because he was panting and struggling at every step they took. Good thing the kettle wasn’t far.

“Do you want to sit down for a moment?” the old inkling asked with worry in his voice, pointing to the edge of the platform in the middle of the two inclines that was just beyond the stone arch they just passed. 

“We’re almost there. Keep going.” the king huffed through gritted teeth. He was always pushing himself so hard.

Cuttlefish opened his mouth, intending to call out the king’s self-negligence, but shut it promptly after without a word. Perhaps now was not the time. Octavio was freezing, so sitting around won’t do him any favors either. So they quietly kept walking, arm in arm.

Soon enough, they arrived at the large kettle that was once closed off by a heavy lid, now gaping open like a fresh wound. A relic of a time before the land was walked by marine life, created to provide safety from the tides. Did it still fulfill its purpose, or has it been twisted into a prison? The inkling couldn’t tell as he looked into the octarian’s already pained face.

“I guess this is goodbye, for now?” Cuttlefish said, as he held onto Octavio’s arm like his life depended on it.

“Hmh.” Octavio bluntly answered. He was never good at goodbyes in a vocal way. That’s why he closed the gap between them and placed his free hand on the one that Cuttlefish was holding his cane with. If Octavio was still trying to convey that he was mad about the scarf thing, then he was certainly doing a horrible job. 

The king lowered his head, waiting for the captain to make a move. 

And that he did, pulling the taller man in for a soft kiss. It was more of a peck, really, but Cuttlefish managed to wrap his left arm around Octavio’s neck before their lips parted. The kiss itself was nothing to write home about, however, it was weirdly calming and exciting at the same time. It was a promise. A promise to start again.  A promise sealed by the obnoxiously colored scarf that had snuck its way around Octavio’s neck.

The octoling only rolled his eyes at him and pulled him in for one last kiss.

After all, resistance was futile.

And deep down, Octavio knew that.