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It should have been some big, dramatic scene, like something from the rock ballads he listened to. Instead, the way the words slipped out of Moria's mouth and into the gloomy fog that perpetually hung around 'Thriller Bark', even indoors, was almost painfully mundane. It was as simple as asking about the weather, which was foggy, by the way. Like he'd said it a thousand times.
"I love you."
As soon as he'd finished his sentence in all its simplicity, Moria wished he hadn't opened his mouth. He didn't know why he'd said it, what prompted it- nothing. His mind was blank, but judging by the way his stomach was trying to tie itself into an impressively elaborate sailor's knot, Moria felt like he'd launched a proverbial brick through a similarly proverbial glass window.
They'd always had an understanding with whatever it was they shared. The understanding that they didn't talk about it , no matter what, lips were sealed, and the uneasy balance they'd etched out for themselves would remain intact. They'd been doing this ridiculous dance for years, after all.
Kuma shifted under his hands, and Moria sucked in a breath, bracing himself for whatever response he'd get as his grip tightened around Kuma's arm.
He was desperate to find some way to put the breaks on and backtrack. Several limp, unhelpful things to say sprung to Moria's mind.
"What?! That was the wind; I didn't say anything! You know how it is with wind in long hallways!"
"It... was one of the zombies?"
or simply pointing in another direction, shouting, "What's that over there?!" and switching with his shadow, leaving Kuma holding onto Doppelman, were all sorely tempting options for getting out of the grave he'd dug himself into.
But Kuma's hand travelling upwards from where it had been resting on Moria's side gave him pause. He half expected that Kuma was about to whip off his glove and send him hurtling toward some deserted island (It wouldn't be the first time). Instead, it finished its journey on his shoulder, giving it a squeeze, which somehow made Moria feel more uncomfortable than if Kuma had sent him on an 'all expenses unpaid trip to nowhere'.
Moria took in several sharp, shallow breaths, knowing that his anxiety must read plain as day on his face. He kept his gaze staunchly glued to the wall behind Kuma instead of meeting his eyes (lenses? Glasses? Whatever they were). 'Gahh, this guy is really annoying. Anything would be better than just getting stared at.. are those even eyes-' Moria's internal dialogue was cut short by the hand making another tactical change of position, this time to the back of his head, where he was guided closer.
"Hey- whuh?" was all Moria got out before their lips met. Moria found himself threading his fingers through Kuma's hair, melting into the precarious embrace, the tightness in his chest dissipating. For someone who never spoke more than a handful of words at a time, Kuma could convey his meaning eloquently enough.
I love you, too
Either that, or he was trying to end the conversation, but Moria was happy to take it, regardless.