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Another calm night at the Roost passed without any incidents. Brewster stood there, polishing cups to perfection. There wasn’t much else to do when no customers were in sight. At least, that’s the impression he was under… The building lacks windows, but he knows it’s already way past the sunrise by the way the hanging grandfather clock above him chimes. The small bird figurine pokes itself out of the cruel, dark wooden prison it lives in and enters the warm space above the espresso as it chirps away to signal noon. Brewster sighed, stacking the cups into a neat little tower before leaving his post for a quick 15 minute break. He left the cafe unattended, something he really hates to do, and stepped into the museum his coffee shop resides in, hoping to find his dear friend and the owner of the establishment, Blathers. His expression twisted into a surprised frown, accompanied by the rise of one of his brows when he didn’t find him at his usual spot, where he usually sits halfway during the day or reading some science reports on the latest archeological findings during the night. He quickly turned around and made for the small bedroom at the very back of the museum. Muffled voices came from within. He identified one of them as his missing friend, and the other one as his sister, Celeste.
“You promised!” Celeste whined, clearly upset. “I was there for you when you had your first speech!” She recalled bitterly. “So, it’s only fair for you to be there for me for my first speech too!”
“I’m sorry, Celeste… But I can’t go. I know, I know… I promised you I would be there, but I’m… Uncertain if I’m in the right mindspace to perform myself.” Blathers replied, unable to handle just how upset she became. “I signed a contract by which I am obliged to give a speech as well. They’ll surely rope me into fulfilling my role. And I just can’t do it, I’m not equivalently prepared!” He admitted bashfully, feeling guilty about bailing at the last moment. Brewster pushed the door open to peek inside.
“What seems to be the matter?” He asked calmly, stepping inside.
“He claims he’s not feeling well.” Celeste pointed an accusatory finger at her brother. “And he only thought to tell me 3 hours before we are supposed to leave for a science convention!” She filled him in on the details before turning back to Blathers. “You know how much it matters to me! I’m not even finished with my thesis yet, and I already got an offer to talk about astrology on the big stage… That’s a huge opportunity, one that would help me get a feel of the field early!” Celeste sighed, distressed, looking at Brewster yet again with a hopeless look in her eyes. “I know I can do it… But I’m scared to go alone. And he promised to be there.” That statement made Blathers flinch, whining in guilt.
“You’re right. I’m… Not being very brotherly towards you right now.” He sighed. “And yes, I know the reason I don’t want to go is stupid. But… I can’t even fathom facing such a large crowd looking like this.” He pointed to his attire. “What was my prime time is long over. The last time I got to present my own research on stage was years ago, and I haven’t made any new discoveries since… I just can’t do it.”
Brewster was quite… Shocked, to say the least. He considers Blathers to be a very handsome man, and has to admit his eyes do always wander towards his silhouette. Ever since the day they met, he’s been on his mind. But there’s nothing wrong with appreciating another man's beauty now, is there? Sure, his age is catching up to him. There are a few wrinkles here and there he didn’t have before, his hair is a little longer, he’s clearly gotten older, but that’s just a part of life. Blather has always a pretty average height, around a head's length shorter than Brewster, but there’s nothing wrong with that! Honestly, it’s a trait that weirdly fits him. And while some may argue being a little chubby is something offputting for potential partners, it’s also true that many consider that particular attribute attractive. Brewster is one of those people. He wishes he could tell him as much, but that would probably come off as weird. He’s never been good with expressing himself verbally.
“Hm. So that’s what your quarrel was about. This is a very serious matter indeed.” Brewster pondered over the best course of action. Despite everything, he couldn’t help but smile fondly, having caught a glimpse into their eccentric sibling relationship. But now’s not the time for that. He quickly regained his composure to take an objective look at the matter. “Celeste has every right to be upset, but your emotions are also valid, Blathers.” He concluded, shocking them both. “How about we try to solve it instead of bickering?” He walked over to the small closet in the corner of the room and turned towards Blathers. “Maybe we can help you find an outfit that you feel confident in?”
“Hey, that’s not a bad idea!” Celeste ran over to him, looking inside the large wooden wardrobe.
“... I suppose trying won’t hurt.” Blathers stood up from his bed. “Is there a dress code?”
“Smart casual.” Celeste scoffed.
“Don’t lay into him too much.” Brewster gave her a stern look.
“I’m just kidding. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.” She looked at her brother as she corrected herself, suddenly feeling guilty about teasing him when he’s already in a not so ideal headspace. “Formal attire only. I feel like I might be a little… Overdressed for the occasion. But it’s been ages since I got to wear this outfit.” Celeste stated proudly, confident in her snazzy look. It consisted of a beautiful, regal crimson hoop skirt that was supported by a crinoline. The white, frilly details posed as a nice contrast. Her sleeves were stuffed with shoulder pads and the top had a beautifully hemmed crew neck. Her scruffy wings twitched in delight as she looked at herself in the mirror, as if she forgot just how nice everything looked put together. She raised the skirt, and, to their surprise, she was wearing high heeled chunky red shoes. “They were quite a bargain! Can you believe it’s just some old stock from Able sisters!”
“Jeez, are you dressed to kill? When did you become a slave to fashion?” Blathers shook his head in unserious disapproval.
“Hm. I have to admit, you do have a flair for fashion. However, back to the matter at hand…” Brewster cleared his throat. “How do you feel about this sweater?”
The nice, beige wool sweater seemed to be a good idea on paper… It could be used as a nice base or worn by itself for a classy elegant look. However, after a few minutes of struggling with that particular piece of clothing, Blathers gave up, muttering something about how he must have put on weight since he last wore it, only adding to the growing anxiety within him. He was already panicked from when it caught on his wings, and nearly ripped it apart when trying to get it off himself.
“I can’t- I can’t do it! The sweater is just too tight! It must have shrunk when I put it in the tumble dryer…”
“I heard letting it soak in hair conditioner overnight loosens the fabric, enough to help it stretch out back to its original size… But we don’t have time for that… Let’s try out plan B.” Celeste sighed and started digging through his closet again. “Oh! How about a button up, complimented by some suspenders?” She turned around towards them, holding a hanger with a simple, white button up draped over it. “Unfortunately, you need to undress fully for that. Your vest is so stodgy… Off it goes!” Celeste helped him take it off and discarded it onto the floor. He nervously fixed his undershirt, hoping that his body wasn’t exposed in the process. Blathers took the shirt from her and nervously put it on, fumbling with the buttons.
“No, no… This is just not it.” He muttered, now standing in front of the mirror, looking at himself with a certain disdain. “It looks so… Sloppy? I don’t exactly know how to describe it…”
“Maybe we should have gotten you a bespoken outfit… Something high-end.” Celeste sighed, somehow already halfway to giving up. “I really thought it would work, you know. This hipster style is all the rage now! It caught on well with the young people, apparently!” Her jewelry clinked against itself when she sat down. Or at least, attempted to. The skirt didn't make it easy…
“Hey- that necklace… Isn’t it mine? You appropriated it you thief - Give it back!” He rushed over to her, trying to catch her. He didn’t really mean it, the judgement in his voice, but it was still unpleasant to see her look so good in something he’s been trying, and failing, to incorporate into his outfits. Unfortunately, the fun came to an abrupt end when he stumbled pitifully over his own legs in the process. “Do you have to be so youthfully agile?” He mumbled. “... You’re getting a kick out of it, aren’t you. Does it make you feel empowered?”
“We’re absolutely taking these pants to a tailor when the event is over. They need to be taken up a hem.” Celeste helped him get back on his feet. Soon, they resumed digging through Blather's closet…
The button up ended up looking quite good on him when they got rid of the suspenders, so they settled for that. They picked out a pair of pants that actually fit him and after a brief argument, Celeste let him put his worn out vest back on. As it turns out, it was a core part of the outfit from the very beginning… It brought everything together nicely. Soon enough, they were back on the move. They packed a few suitcases full of artifacts. The full monty! Brewster even managed to snag a last minute plane ticket so he could accompany them to the event. And with an hour of free time left before their journey, they all went their separate ways. Blathers decided to visit the art section of the museum, something he does quite often when stressed. He stood in front of the complicated artwork in deep thought. It’s one of the few pieces they managed to get an original piece of, rather than a copy. The painting depicted The Actor Ōtani Oniji III as Edobei. The meaning of said painting is based on the viewer's construal level… Only those who know the history can truly enjoy it. He thinks about it often: How so much knowledge is locked behind obscurity… The technique it was made with, ukiyo-e, ceased to exist with the coming of the Meiji era. However, it was still deeply woven into their history, having created so many important works of art. Maybe saying it disappeared is a little extreme, but the fact it was the most popular during the Edo period is not to be questioned.
“Pondering again?” Brewster walked up to him, gaze intensely and almost weirdly… Worried?
“Oh great heavens!” Blathers flinched, suddenly being snapped out of his thoughts. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you when you first approached.” He fixed his glasses. “I was thinking about Celeste. She practically jumped at the chance when they invited her… And I feel like I should know better than to try and run from my struggles. I feel guilty for making her worried that I might bail on her last moment…” His shoulders slumped forward. “I can only hope it didn’t shatter her trust that I can show up when it matters. She is quite… Quirky. But that’s what makes her special. You know what, she reminds me of this painting somewhat. It has such a rich history… But only a few really get to know it.” Brewster hummed thoughtfully at that.
“Yes, I believe you have already told me about its artstyle in detail.” He flashed him a brief smile. “However… As much as I would love to discuss it further with you, we have to go.”
“Ah, right.” Blathers cleared his throat. “The airport is quite far from the museum… We should probably get going.”
Their journey, thankfully, went off without a hitch. Some of the organisation's crew picked them up from the airport and helped them haul the heavy suitcases back to where the event is being hosted. They managed to slip by the security easily with a presenter's pass, and Blathers thoroughly inspected each artifact to make sure none were damaged during transport. He loomed over the staff to ensure all of Celeste's props are set up just how she wants them before he settled down in his seat to watch her perform. She entered the stage gracefully and dove straight into her research with an enchanting intro. There was such passion in her voice. The way her eyes glistened when mentioning her thesis, bringing up fact after fact, drawing out the different constellations on the chalkboard while spewing facts about their existence was… Simply adorable. Blanther watched her in pure amazement.
And then it struck him. Did he look just as excited, just as youthful, just as happy when performing for the first time as she looks talking about her interests there, on the huge stage? He hopes he did. It’s quite pleasant to look at. The apple doesn’t fall from the tree, does it? Their parents raised them properly, to yearn for knowledge. It’s a miracle they both found something they love so much, really… Celeste brought the house down, gliding through the conclusion of her presentation seamlessly. When her speech was over, she basked in the short lived burst of fame that hit her, a little overwhelming but not unpleasant. Blanthers took this time to glance over his notes, hoping to take inspiration from her flawless performance. He made a horrifying discovery that he finds his speech to be quite… Boring, at least in comparison to hers. He swallowed thickly, rummaging through his belongings in hopes of finding maybe another notebook, maybe some papers he wrote, anything he could use to entertain the guests. He, unfortunately, did not have anything else on him.
“Your speech is too cumbersome. Turn it up a notch!” She startled him by peeking over his shoulder. Little did she know, that simple remark, which was supposed to be a thoughtful suggestion instead of criticism, sent him spiraling further.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have come here afterall…” Blathers began to panic again.
Thankfully, Brewster was there to escort him backstage and help him calm down. They were assigned a separate room, consisting of a small coffee table with an espresso machine, kettle, and a variety of beverages to choose from, as well as a desk with a small lamp and a comfortable chair. Celeste got swiped up in a wave of reporters when they were walking backstage, leaving Blathers and Brewster alone to manage this quiet crisis on their own. This was bad. Brewster has no idea how to actually help a struggling person. Usually, simply sharing his thoughts helps, but it’s always a random chance in his mind. It's like solving an equation using all the wrong methods and still getting a correct answer… Yet, after seeing what Celeste's harmless suggestion did to his friend, he was unsure of the next proper steps. At last, an idea pops into his head. He tears through the small fanny bag of belongings he brought to the event. Finally, he found what he was searching for. “A remedy for stress” was written on the bottle he brought along for some reason. Who is he kidding? That’s what helps him when his thoughts get the best of him. He might as well get more mileage out of it by using it for something far more useful than his wandering mind and some seasonal drinks.
“It’s going to be alright.” He said firmly, reassuringly, walking over to Blathers, who was sitting by the desk. Brewster set the herbal tea he prepared, into which he inconspicuously poured the sweet calming syrup, on his desk. He’s used to brewing coffee, not making tea, but caffeine is clearly not what Blathers needs right now. He spun him around in his chair to fix his bowtie. He looked at him, his gaze still worried, even more than previously. He’s not a man of many words, but right now, he’d do anything to help his friend get his train of thought back on the rails. The tension between them was palpable. Something vulnerable, intimate. Brewster took a step back before it could strengthen. “Drink up. I wouldn’t want you to get dehydrated from all of this dry heaving. Alright?” He mumbled and walked over to the coffee table. Cleaning usually helps him get his mind back on autopilot. "I added a shot of the syrup that usually helps you sleep during those tough nights."
“You’re right. I should try my best to calm down first.” Blathers conceded. “I need to approach the task at hand with a leveled head. Maybe it would help me to tackle it from a different perspective…” He sighed and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, one on which his notes were written on, from the trash. “Right…?” Immediately after that statement, he seeked validation from Brewster again, with a gaze far too raw with suppressed emotions.
“Mr.Blanters, I heard you’re unwell?” One of the organizers suddenly burst through the door like a bolt of lightning, ending the charged moment between them. Brewster was thankful for his perfect timing. The weight of unspoken words was off his shoulders… As of now “I’m sorry for bringing it up now, when you’re not feeling up to the task, but I’m obliged to inform you that… Unfortunately, as per your contract, Mr.Blathers, you’ll have to perform for at least half an hour. Invariably.” He sighed.
“B-But I’ll have to speak off the cuff! I can’t do that!” All of the progress they’ve made over the past few minutes was gone. Just like that, he was panicking again.
“Please! I beg you - You’re the only one who has proper credentials to give a presentation on this matter! Trust me when I admit that you truly are something entirely different. Your knowledge of the matter is simply unmatched. You’re an outlier in your field. A dab hand at archeology! An unprecedented talent!” He looked so desperate, like he could resort to beginning on his knees.
The words struck him as odd. Surely he can’t be that great… They’re probably just clinging onto hope that everything will work out fine, even if half of the professors they asked to attend bailed on them. It’s as if he’s their last resort… And he’s not even a professor, he merely has a doctorate! From what he has gathered, the event is being hosted on a shoestring budget, and they can’t afford to give out any more refunds to guests who were supposed to come but canceled their flights when they realised they won’t see their favourite researchers presenting. Thankfully for the organisation, he is already committed to the speech now, so he could send him off with a firm nod of the head. There is no backing out now that he came here… He wouldn’t want to upset the apple cart or make waves with his sudden refusal to perform. The company is already struggling, and they will fall by the wayside if this event doesn’t make them a hefty profit. However… Money aside… It still turned out nicely. Probably because they racked up debt trying to make it possible. After a brief moment of contemplation, during which Blather managed to calm down, the time to perform came. Brewster nudged him towards the stage and then he followed suit behind Celeste to their seats. Unfortunately, they couldn’t be there on the stage with him, but they were still trying to show their support by watching him from afar, cheering him on.
To his surprise, he managed to preach for over two hours… Somehow singlehandedly saving the convention. The organisers gave him a lot of leeway when it came to the time limit, since the minimum was half an hour and the maximum was an hour and a half. Yet desperate times call for desperate measures - they were delighted that the guests were being entertained. And while yes, Blathers was as stiff as a board the whole way through, nobody noticed. He didn’t even look at his pocket watch! Not once! And that was a huge accomplishment: That he persevered up until the very end. Nobody dared to disturb him when he was so clearly in his element. He even managed to throw in a few fun facts into the otherwise knowledge dense speech. “This is something I got my hands on only recently.” He caught the crowd's attention, showing them an ancient artefact their mayor has snagged during one of their trips abroad. “Patterned after -” He listed out names from memory perfectly without stuttering, going on and on about their inventions. “He coined the term… But it became widely used-” He continued, making grand hand gestures. All eyes were on him. “Truly a product of its time! No one has been able to replicate the technique. This reminds me about a certain story…” He talked about archeology like it was the most beautiful field of knowledge to ever exist, keeping the guests attention on him the whole two hours.
He only had Celeste and Brewster to thank. They worked hand in glove to make sure his performance goes off without a hitch… And truly, he wouldn't be there if it wasn’t for them. They asked questions, giving him a leg up during some of the tougher parts of the presentation. Cheered and clapped the loudest of all. Gave him their brightest smiles. It was like a dream come true, to babble on without the worry he’s boring everyone to death. They regrouped when the applause subdued, and Blathers had a chance to speak with the main organiser, who thanked him for enlightening them with so many interesting facts. He even managed to answer some thoughtful questions the reporters tossed shamelessly at him. And, well, he knows ending in a tabloid is inevitable at this point… But, somehow, he finds himself not minding it all that much. They got on their flight back around 6 PM, landed on their island at 8. They walked past their mayor, wearing a dressy designer coat, spraying some pesticide on the flowers that cover the island thoroughly. Blathers let out a satisfied hoot at that, glad they’re keeping those creepy bugs away. Somewhere in the distance they could see Nook in a frumpy anorak he was gifted for his birthday by Timmy and Tommy. It looks hideous, but he loves it. Even with multiple real estate assets under his name and millions of bells in his account, he still chooses to be somewhat humble. He’s talking with Norma, in her pastel pink kimono she happened to win in a game of high card low card with the mayor. It was quite a peaceful night… Until… It started raining.
Chaos ensued as everyone ran to the nearest shelter. Brewster had to roll up the cuffs of his pants to prevent them from being soaked through. A swathe of land between the paved ground of the city was covered in slippery mud, in which Blathers fell after losing his balance, thanks to a spontaneous gust of wind. “Should have bought those wellies from Able sisters.” Blathers joked. But the way he was shivering even after they finally reached the museum was far from funny. They’re currently sitting in front of a crackling fireplace, dressed in fluffy bathrobes after they both showered. Now it’s just the two of them… Celeste was probably already back in her dormroom, working away on her thesis with a newfound motivation. Blathers was hesitant to let her go back home alone, nearly insisting he’ll go with her, but Brewster knocked some sense into him. Now that the day is over… It’s important to unwind. There was a comfortable silence between them… Yet something intense was still in the air. The tension that emerged suddenly between them before reappeared. The setting was perfect for a confession of some sorts, the moment they’re in almost straight out of a movie… It was suffocating. Brewster made a sneaky excuse to get away from it, even if just for a minute. He brewed them two cups of coffee, working away as he gathered his thoughts. Something about seeing Blathers so distressed, first about his body, then about his performance, made his chest tie into a painful knot. All of the memories they have together, ones that accumulated over the years, hit him all at once. Those feelings he has harbored for a while now emerged once again when he met the mayor for the first time. When he heard Blathers wanted him to open a coffee shop in his museum… When he saw that old, crumpled photo, clearly well-loved, probably something he kept all those years in his wallet or blazer, clinging to the hope that maybe, just maybe fate will bring them together once more -
Oh.
Oh.
Oh… He’s been so oblivious. Back in the big city, when he was just learning how to run a business while barely keeping himself afloat, there was just one thing that kept him going through even the hardest of times. It wasn’t the sunk cost fallacy, not his love for making coffee the traditional way… Now he knows… That his reason was Blathers. Getting to see him every other day, talk to him about the most boring of topics, urge him to get some sleep when he was the last one still sitting in the cafe, 4 cups deep into his research. Brewster always searched every nook and cranny for money, draining his savings, hoping to make the ends meet for just long enough to see Blathers graduate. That was beyond what he ever did for any other customers. He wanted him to have a quiet place to study, wanted to be that safe space for him. His quiet, yet joyful presence was something he looked forward to all the time, even while not on the clock. Maybe their relationship was never a simple barista-customer dynamic. No… Ever since that night they met… Brewster was in love. And he did not realise it, not until now. Not when he kept the shop long enough for Blathers to finish his homework. Not when he offered him free refills whenever he could see he needed them more than he needed the money. Not when he helped Blathers with his thesis without realizing it. Had he not stopped to compare it to rushing a roast, they wouldn’t be here. He would still be stumbling through deserted islands, collecting gyroids, hoping to make a profit from… Whatever he’s been doing back then. Brewster grabbed the two cups of coffee and, with the decision to confess that night already made, went back to the bedroom that’s settled in the deepest corner of the museum.
“I’ve wanted to talk to you about a certain… Situation.” Brewster said quietly, setting the mugs on the desk. “I came to a certain… Realisation. Today.” He cleared his throat.
“I was hoping to talk to you about something too. Please, go on.” Blathers turned towards him.
“I have always cared about you.” Brewster approached him with a few careful strides and eventually sat down on the bed, next to him, making a dent in the mattress. This singular sentence sparked a deeper conversation between them. “We’re both bachleors…” He continued awkwardly, testing the waters “Our views may not always align but that’s what sparks the magic in our discussions. And… I have to admit… I’ve fancied you for a while now. I’d loathe to see you miserable due to a lack of a mate further down the line.” He gently reached out for his hand. “So please…” He didn’t need to finish that sentence. Their lips collided without any further ado. To his surprise, it was Blathers who initiated it, very clearly reciprocating the feeling.
“Please…” Blathers whispered. “I’ve been trying to court you for a good few months!!” He laughed, climbing over him as they both laid down on the bed. “But… I don’t blame you. I… backed out of my advances because I was self conscious about my looks.”
“... Well.” Brewster reached up, hoping to tuck a stray hair behind his ear. “I find you beautiful.”
They spent the right reminiscing… Talking about how stupid they were. Blather came to the conclusion that, looking back, he was just as oblivious as his now boyfriend, if not worse. The memories fell into a perfect puzzle. The signs were there from the very beginning. How Brewster checked up on him on a regular basis. How the coffee he made for him was always “on the house”. How he didn’t make assumptions about his likes and dislikes. How he understood him on a deeper level… It is a cruel joke that they wasted so much time apart before coming to the conclusion they’re in love, and always were. But there’s no use crying over spilled milk… It’s better to start now than never. And so, when the morning came, Blathers framed the newspaper articles about a “rising, on the up astrology researcher” and an “archeologist who saved the day” proudly, as that day officially marked the beginning of something wonderful.
erful.