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.