Work Text:
"I love you."
It was sunny on a Wednesday morning. Balloon, like he did on most sunny days, found himself writing in his poetry book (which was really more of a diary, at this point). Those three words he wrote inked out of his pen subconsciously, like a thought said aloud that wasn't meant to be. He paused for a moment. Should he really have been writing all of his private thoughts, the things he only ever said in his mind, in a book that anyone could easily stumble upon? Yes, he thought. Yes he should.
He proceded to continue writing; "I love you like the cold breeze on a hot summer day. I love you like a fireplace that gives one warmth in the winter. I love you like art on a canvas, carefully crafted to paint a picture, an intricate design. I love you like the words I write on paper, letters written on a line. I love you like..."
"Hey," Balloon was interrupted from his writing when heard a voice. A familiar voice. One that belonged to his usual point of inspiration when it came to writing, his muse.
He quickly slammed his poetry book shut. He looked up. "Hi, Nickel." he smiled at the object in front of him.
The coin smiled back. "Was wondering where you were," he said. "So, what's up?"
"Nothing much. Just writing poetry, the usual."
"Oh, that's cool. You know..." Nickel had a curious expression on his face. "I've never really heard one of your poems."
"Oh!" Balloon replied. "Well, I didn't know you'd want to hear it. I mean, you always tell me what I do is boring, so..." he started fidgeting with his pen. I love you like a tool used for creating, like a palette, or a pen, A little voice in his head said. Shut up, said another one.
"Well, I wanna listen now! You're always so hyperfocused, so... locked in, whenever you're writing, it has to be good!"
Balloon chuckled. "Probably not as good as you're thinking. I wouldn't want to dissapoint you with my mediocre writing."
"C'mon! Please? If it's cringey or something, I won't laugh!"
"Well..."
"Please?"
"Fine," Balloon opened the book in his hands... right on the page of what he was writing prior to the conversation. What if he read that to Nickel? The writings about him, and how Balloon felt about him. Nickel wouldn't know it was about him. Not like he mentioned his name or anything. He took a breath.
"I love you. I love you like the cold breeze on a hot summer day..."
With every word Balloon spoke to him, Nickel felt his heart slowly breaking. He liked someone? So much as to make a poem for them? Ouch. Might as well tell him directly, say the words, "I don't like you back" to his face.
Though, there was the possibility of the poem being about him, but... there was no way. Why would Balloon like him? And, even if that was the case, why the hell would he recite the poem to Nickel? Ugh. He hated how that stupid salmon-colored piece of rubber made him feel. Why was he feeling so mushy? He was just some guy. So why did just the idea of him drive Nickel insane? He was so pathetic.
Balloon must've noticed the sour expression on his face. "Was it that bad?" he asked.
"No!" Nickel quickly said in reply. "It- it was fine! But, uh, if you don't mind me asking..." he hesitated.
"Yes?"
"Who was it about? I mean, that seemed so real, it must've been about someone, right?"
Balloon blinked. He should've seen that question coming, especially with the anonymity of whoever "you" was. He had to think of something, and fast.
"Uh... well! It was about someone! And... they're an object!"
"Thanks, Balloon, that really narrows it down." Nickel deadpanned. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to... uh, sorry for intruding."
"It's fine, you were just curious!"
"...and curiosity kills the cat." Nickel muttered, thinking Balloon wouldn't hear. He did.
"Huh?"
"N- nothing!" Nickel stood up. "I- uh, just remembered! I have to be somewhere! Yeah!" he stood there awkwardly, the pair of objects just silently staring at anyone but each other for a moment, before he made to walk away.
He was about twenty meters away when he heard Balloon's voice, and was inclined to pause, to stop in his tracks... Just because he heard his voice. Wow, he really was pathetic, wasn't he?
"Wait, Nickel!" Balloon rushed towards him, almost tripping on his own feet in the process.
Nickel turned around, and, as the wind whistled around the two of them, it looked and felt like something out of one of those cheesy romance movies Balloon always forced him to watch with him. He tried to hide his slowly reddening face.
"That poem? It was about someone quite close to you, actually..." Balloon said. He seemed nervous, which Nickel didn't really understand. Unless... wait. No way.
"Yeah..?"
"It was about you, Nickel. I- I know it's a little cliche, but, I love you."
Nickel couldn't believe his ears, which was weird, because he didn't have any, because... well... he was a nickel. Nonetheless he couldn't believe what he was hearing.
"I- you... do?"
"Of course. I love you so much that I... wrote poems about you, heh."
"Poems? Plural? With an S? As in, more than one?"
"Yes, Nickel. Multiple. Many. Other synonyms for that. But that's not the point. The point is, I've liked you for a while now. Ever since we became friends in season three, I've never felt so loved before, spending time with you. You made me feel like... like-"
"Cold breeze on a hot summer day? Warm, like a fireplace in the winter? Yeah, I do that a lot."
Balloon laughed. A pleasant sound, like music to Nickel's nonexistent ears. "You're such an idiot."
"Oh yeah. And you're just so smart. You totally aren't an absolute dumbass yourself."
"I hate you."
"You love me."
"I- yeah. I- I do." Balloon smiled sweetly. "I love you a lot."
Silence. Neither of the two new what to do or say after. The confession was unexpected, to both of them, and Balloon didn't plan this far ahead, and Nickel didn't plan for any of this at all.
"Kiss me." Nickel blurted out. Then he blushed at his sudden outburst. "Wait- no! I mean- yes? I mean-"
Balloon laughed once again. Nickel asked, and he delivered. He walked up to him and kissed him.
And it lasted about 12 seconds, less than Nickel wanted, but hey, at least it happened. It was nice. Great, even.