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After Finn and Shrimpo got together, they had been hanging out more frequently in each other’s rooms, like today. Sitting on the edge of Shrimpo’s bed, the fisherman kicked his feet happily as he ranted. Today’s ramble was about starfish.
At the moment, Shrimpo was beating the carp out of his punching bag, as Finn would say. The punching bags helped a lot with getting his pent-up frustrations out.
Now that the show was over and the handlers were gone, Shrimpo could act however he wanted. Using the punching bags helped him avoid giving in to the violent behaviors he was trained to subject the other toons to. He still wasn’t the nicest toon, but he changed significantly enough that the other toons took notice. Shrimpo refused to explain his switch in behavior to any toon that wasn’t Finn; they could stay oblivious.
Shrimpo wore a pair of boxing gloves that the fishbowl had gotten for him before they were official. “A symbol of our friendship!” is what Finn had told him, wearing that stupidly adorable grin that showed off his missing tooth.
He went in for another swing, but he found himself staring at the fishbowl instead.
Finn had been acting a little weird, to say the least.
Something had changed. Sure, Finn was still using his annoying puns that Shrimpo decided he would tolerate. Finn still rambled on and on with his facts like usual. But lately he seemed more… hesitant.
Shrimpo knew something was off. For nearly a month now, the fisherman seemed anxious. He stared longer than normal, and once the shrimp met his gaze, the bowl would immediately look away, face flushed. It was really starting to piss him off. That damn bowl was acting like he had a crush on Shrimpo all over again!
The worst part was that whenever the crustacean tried to bring attention to it, Finn would brush it off and change the subject. Does Finn think he’s STUPID?!
Additionally, Finn had begun acting rather skittish when it came to physical contact. He used to be annoyingly affectionate, peppering kisses all over the shrimp’s angry face. But now? Now Finn struggles with grabbing his hand. It’s just a fucking hand, get over it.
Shrimpo supposed that it wasn’t all bad. Watching Finn get flustered all the time over the smallest things was hilarious (and kind of cute, but you didn’t hear that from him). But to be honest, Shrimpo missed the affection.
However, Shrimpo is Shrimpo. There was no way he’d admit it. He wouldn’t sacrifice his pride over something dumb like this, right?
“Uhh Shrimpo…?”
Shrimpo snapped back to the present. He realized that, at some point, Finn had gotten up and walked over to the shrimp. Shit, now Shrimpo was the one staring for too long.
The crustacean glanced to the side, “What?”
Finn gazed down at him with concern, “You okay? You looked like you were lost at sea.”
“I’m FINE,” Shrimpo scowled as he crossed his arms. He couldn’t believe it. Was Finn seriously asking if he was okay? Ridiculous.
The fishbowl’s fins twitched as he searched the crustacean’s face. But while Finn searched, he seemed to be getting a little distracted.
Finn stepped forward a bit and brought a hand up to cup Shrimpo’s cheek. The crustacean’s antennae flicked slightly and he felt a blush begin to creep up his neck. The fishbowl gently tilted the shrimp’s face upwards.
This was certainly unexpected. The crustacean felt a little lost. His crossed arms loosened and fell uselessly to his sides. His eyebrows raised in surprise. He felt so dumb. Finn wasn’t even really doing anything. But the touch short-circuited Shrimpo’s brain.
Finn leaned down a little.
Oh hell yes.
Shrimpo’s eyes softened and began to close.
Please.
Finn backed off with his arms in the air. His eyes widened, fins pinned back, and face covered in a deep blush.
OH HELL NO.
“Uh, carp, I-I was- I forgot that I told Looey we’d go over some of our jokes today!” The fishbowl scrambled over to the door in such a hurry that he almost tripped, “Sorry! I’ll sea you later!”
The door shut.
Shrimpo stared at the door, brows furrowed.
What the actual fuck just happened??
His face felt like it was on fire. His legs went on autopilot as he made his way over to the wardrobe. He removed his gloves, placing them inside one the cabinets.
Shrimpo stared at the gloves in the cabinet for a while, replaying the events in his mind. Was Finn about to…?
The shrimp covered his mouth with his hand. What embarrassed him the most about this whole thing was how disappointed he felt about Finn chickening out.
Finn slammed his bedroom door shut and pressed his back up against it. Mortified, he covered his flushed face with both hands. He couldn’t believe he’d just done that.
“Shrimpo’s going to krill me…” The fishbowl mumbled into his hands as he sank to the floor. He put his face in his knees and curled his tail around his ankles. It wasn’t like it was the first time he had thought about kissing Shrimpo, but still!
Lately, kissing has been on Finn’s mind for an embarrassing amount of time. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t want to do it, but he’d grown anxious over the topic.
The crustacean had always been notorious for vocalizing everything that could possibly irk him. One of those things, which Finn heard often, was touch. So it wouldn’t be crazy to assume that Shrimpo would be against kissing.
Then again, Shrimpo claimed he hated everything: bright lights, silence, loud noises, spoons, the color purple, and the air he breathed. The list of what he hates is impossibly long and contradictory, but that doesn't mean there aren’t some truths in it. Could that mean Finn has already been making Shrimpo uncomfortable?
The fisherman used to show affection without a second thought. He ignored any protests the shrimp spouted. But, recently, he realized that the crustacean might actually be bothered by touch, so Finn tried to tone it down a bit. While the bowl may not be showing as much affection, that didn’t mean he stopped thinking about doing it. He felt so conflicted between his urges and making sure Shrimpo didn’t feel uncomfortable. It was utter misery.
Finn groaned, uncurled his tail, and stood up. Gripping his arms, he walked over to Barnaby’s fish tank. Before Finn could grab the fish himself, Barnaby jumped out of his bowl and plopped right into the tank. The fisherman snickered as he watched Barnaby zoom around his tank.
After a while, his smile faded as he began anxiously overthinking the events in the crustacean’s room again. He brought a hand to the back of his neck, “Barnaby, what do I do? It eels like all I can think about. Cod, I feel so shell-fish.”
The fish bumped against the glass.
The fisherman sighed and pressed his forehead against the tank.
Shrimpo won’t want what I want.
“LET ME IN,” Shrimpo demanded, borderline pounding on the door to Finn’s room.
It had been about a week since the incident in Shrimpo’s room. Finn was obviously ignoring him. Plus, he never even went to hang out with Looey like he said he would! Shrimpo had interrogated that pathetic balloon himself. Not only did Finn never show up, it also sounded like they had never even made any plans in the first place! So Finn was just making up more fucking excuses. The fishbowl was even evading him at mealtimes! Hurriedly snatching his food and making a break for it to his room.
Shrimpo was absolutely fed up. Enough was enough. Fish boy needed to suck it up and talk to him.
The shrimp tapped his foot impatiently, grumbling to himself as Finn opened his door with trepidation. Before the fisherman could even get a word out, Shrimpo pushed his way past him and sat on the edge of Finn’s bed. Finn just sighed as he closed his door, accepting that he couldn’t swim his way out of this one (haha get it? Swim? Like worm, but uh… Nevermind that one sucked).
Shrimpo crossed his arms, “What’s up with you lately?”
The fishbowl turned his head away from the door to face Shrimpo. Finn clutched his arm, face flushing slightly, “Not quite shore what you mean. Every-fin is fine, reel-y!” He gave the shrimp a nervous smile. How pathetically unconvincing.
“Drop the bullshit. Do you SERIOUSLY think I’m stupid enough to fall for that?”
“W-whale, uh, it’s… a little clam-plicated.”
Shrimpo raised a brow, “Okay?”
An awkward silence followed. Finn suddenly seemed rather intrigued with the posters of various fish on his walls.
“Just get over here already,” Shrimpo waved his hand, gesturing towards the empty space on the bed next to him.
Finn hesitated. His eyes darted between Shrimpo and the bed. Eventually, he hunched over and sighed. The fishbowl begrudgingly trudged over to the bed. He sat down next to the shrimp rather tensely.
Shrimpo bit his lip and averted his gaze, “Did I upset you?”
The fisherman’s eyes widened with surprise. “No, no, of course not!” Finn reassured him, “I promise, I’d tell you if you did.”
“Then what is it?!” Shrimpo snapped. He brought his hands up to his head and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration, “You’ve been avoiding me FOR A WEEK. HELL, IT KINDA FELT LIKE YOU WERE AVOIDING ME BEFORE THAT! JUST- ugh…”
“…”
Shrimpo sighed. He crossed his arms again and met Finn’s eyes, “Look. I know something’s up. Talk to me.”
Shrimpo could see Finn’s hesitation. It looked like he wanted to talk about it, but it seemed as though something was stopping him. Finn grabbed his knees, staring at his lap anxiously. “You’ll think it’s stupid.”
“Yeah, probably.”
Finn chuckled, “Shouldn’t have expected anything less.” The fishbowl’s smile faltered slightly. “You’re right though, I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you about this. I just wasn’t shore how to bring it up.”
The crustacean hummed, head tilting up to look at Finn better.
“I wanted to… um… whale, does it bother you when I touch you?”
“W-WHA- I- YOU…” Shrimpo didn’t expect to get questioned, he was ready for answers. TELL HIM YOU HATE IT! HE’LL JUST USE THIS TO TEASE YOU.
The fishbowl went on, cheeks dusted purple, “The thing is, you always seem so annoyed when I do it, and I… carp- I reel-y want to kiss you. I’m sorry, I don’t want to cross any lines...”
Another silence stretched between the two. Shrimpo tightened his crossed arms, curling in on himself ever so slightly. Finn was right. Shrimpo would act annoyed. He’d huff when Finn held his hand. Protest when Finn hugged him. Scowl and push him away when Finn kissed him on the cheek. Anything to save his pride. It was so embarrassing to admit he actually liked it all. He felt so weak.
He hated explaining himself. He hated admitting things. Honestly, he really wanted to bolt out of the room right now, but he couldn’t do that to Finn. Not when they were finally talking.
“You won’t.”
“Wha- huh?”
Shrimpo could feel his cheeks begin to heat up and he clenched his teeth. Ugh, this is hard to talk about. “You won’t cross any lines. Do it.”
“…Bait a second...” Finn leaned towards the shrimp, squinting at him.
“What.”
Finn broke into a wide grin. Shiiiiit.
“Hey- NO. DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT!” Shrimpo slammed his hands against the bed.
“You want this, don’t you?”
Busted. He turned his head so the fishbowl couldn’t see his red face. Shrimpo groaned, “Shut the fuck up.”
Finn gasped, “REEL-Y?! Oh thank COD. I was so worried that I’d ruin every-fin.” His tail thumped on the bed behind him. The fishbowl couldn’t contain his excitement.
The crustacean grumbled, he was hoping to keep that information to himself.
“But, uh, just to be sure, it doesn’t bother you when I touch you?”
“Yeah, yeah, it doesn’t,” Shrimpo glared at him out of the corner of his eye, “NOW DON’T ASK AGAIN, I’M NOT REPEATING THAT.”
Finn giggled, “Alright, alright.”
The fishbowl had that really cute grin, showing off his missing tooth. That stupid face brought back Shrimpo’s urge to kiss him. It’d be so much easier to suffocate his feelings if Finn wasn’t this fucking adorable.
“…Shrimpo?”
Shrimpo jumped, now facing Finn. He was staring at Finn’s mouth for a bit too long, and the fisherman definitely noticed.
The bowl’s face looked a bit more flushed than before, eyes wider, and his grin nervous. His eyes flickered between Shrimpo’s lips and his wide eyes, clearly picking up on what Shrimpo wanted. “Did, um… did you want to…?” Finn attempted to clarify.
“…Yeah.” Shrimpo whispered, uncharacteristically quietly.
The fishbowl’s fins twitched, moving his gaze down to Shrimpo’s lips once more. He lifted up a hand to cup the shrimp’s cheek, caressing it with his thumb.
Shrimpo leaned into the bowl’s touch, closing his eyes and placing his own hand over Finn’s to keep it there. The crustacean turned his face just enough to plant a soft kiss onto the palm of the fisherman’s hand. The action caused Finn’s breath to hitch.
Finn turned to face the shrimp better and placed his free hand on Shrimpo’s knee.
Shrimpo’s antennae flicked and he opened his eyes, looking up at the bowl. He allowed Finn’s hand to uncover his mouth and tilt his face upwards.
Finn leaned down.
Shrimpo could feel Finn’s shaky breaths against his lips.
The fisherman paused. Not moving away, but not moving in any further. Did Finn want him to close the gap?
Finn whispered, barely audible, “What if it’s reel-y bad, and you never want to kiss me again because you hated it so much?”
The shrimp stifled a laugh. Is he seriously worried about that? He shut his eyes, “Then I guess you’ll have to try it again.”
Shrimpo grabbed the collar of the fishbowl’s shirt with his free hand and lightly tugged. Finally, Shrimpo closed the gap. His chest felt like it was fluttering.
Finn squeaked into the kiss. His face was covered in a deep flush. He froze for a second before shutting his eyes and melting into it.
Fuck. This was better than anything Shrimpo could’ve ever imagined (not that he had been, don’t go getting any ideas). Finn’s lips were so damn soft, he was losing his mind.
After a few moments, they parted. Their eyes met once they opened.
“Holy mackerel,” Finn looked awestruck. The shrimp could practically see stars in his eyes. But his face suddenly grew anxious. “Was that okay?”
The shrimp looked down at Finn’s lips once more. Shrimpo smirked, “Let’s pretend I hated it.” Finn gasped once he caught onto what the crustacean was saying.
Finn moved his hand from Shrimpo’s knee up to his waist. The fisherman mustered up enough courage and closed the gap himself.
They could’ve done this a week ago. Shrimpo couldn’t believe he’d managed to wait this long. Finn needed to pay for avoiding him. When they parted, Shrimpo just pulled him in again.
Again.
And again.
Finn clutched the back of Shrimpo’s shirt. The fishbowl’s water began to boil with just how warm his face was getting, a telltale sign that he was beyond flustered. Good thing Barnaby was inside of his tank instead of his head.
His tail thumped against the bed as he began to whimper into the kisses, which only drove the shrimp to continue.
Finn absolutely loved this; it was all he wanted and more. However, Shrimpo hadn’t exactly returned his affections until this point, so this was getting to be a little overwhelming.
Eventually, Finn shifted so that both of his hands rested on the crustacean’s cheeks, no longer pulling him in further.
Shrimpo understood. He parted the kiss and released his hold on Finn’s shirt.
The fisherman panted. He looked wrecked. Disoriented.
The shrimp snickered. This was just too good.
“H-how… was that?” Finn breathed heavily.
“I’m satisfied,” Shrimpo had an evil glint in his eyes, “For now.”