Work Text:
You always volunteered the work this shift at the cafe, even though it was nothing short of a personal hell. The décor was far too campy for your taste, and while you would not assume it at first, Swatch was much too keen on maximalism when it came to holiday embellishments. Overstimulation in the form of clashing red and pink hearts served only as the backdrop to the barrage of customers crowding the cafe. Couples drone in, overselling their displays of affection. Normally you wouldn’t mind. The performative nature of it all is what sets you off, and you have to dig deep to produce a soft smile and wait for a sea of puppy lovers to giggle through their coffee and pastry orders.
Fortunately, or perhaps not, you were scheduled to work with Auro. He seemed all on board with this holiday, despite his single status. He spends every moment in between customers waxing poetic about love and romance, and how beautiful this holiday is. For once, you don’t push back. Secretly, you’re thankful to be able to listen to his voice. It’s almost loud enough to drown out everything else that is happening in the eight hours you’re trapped behind the counter.
Poor Auro agreed to work a double. He makes some joke about potentially finding a date for tonight, and you laugh as you wish him well with his endeavor. You don’t roll your eyes at him as he winks and blows you a kiss as you hurriedly take off your apron. Instead, you nudge his shoulder with your own and tell him you’ll see him in a few days.
The time between unlocking your apartment door and collapsing on your bed feels entirely too long, burdened with a necessary shower and change of clothes in between you and your one true love. Fewer pleasures exist in your life than the chance to actually take a mid day nap, and you relish in the sweet embrace of your warm and inviting blankets.
“HAPPY VALENTINES DAY. ROSES ARE [Red Dye #40], VIOLETS ARE BLUE, WAKE UP LIGHT neR< BECAUSE THESE ARE [Super Special One Day Only!] FOR YOU.”
Barely opening one eye awards you with the sight of your favorite puppet proudly standing at your bedside. His arms are outstretched, offering a bouquet of roses and a heart shaped box of chocolates. You sit up and stretch before gingerly accepting the offerings, hoping he assumes the color in your cheeks is only due to having just been asleep.
“Ah, thanks. You for sure didn’t have to do this.”
You laugh softly but see a flicker of genuine concern behind his spectacles. Standing, you usher him out of the bedroom to go place the bouquet in the tallest glass from the cupboard. Despite not exactly being the ‘flowers’ type, you still take care to cut their stems at an angle before submerging them in Cyber City’s finest tap water. Spamton stays glued to your side, attentively watching with his ever-present smile that somehow seems to be wider than ever. After displaying the flowers, you thank him again and offer a halfhearted hug.
“YOU DO NOT [100% Satisfaction Guarantee] THEM.” His expression is neutral. The statement bores a touch of guilt in your heart.
“No, Spamton, it’s not that. They’re beautiful. And you know I love a good truffle chocolate.”
“YOU [Request Denied] THEM.”
“No, Spam, listen.”
You set the box of chocolates down on the kitchen table. With a sigh, you venture to the couch and hope he follows. Naturally, he does.
“I appreciate the gesture. And I appreciate you. What I don’t appreciate is the holiday.”
“NOT STRUCK BY [Cupid’s Arrow Hanging Door Decoration $14.99]?”
“No, I guess not. I find the whole ordeal, no offense, rather… commercial. An excuse to get people to spend money on worthless merchandise.”
He clutches his chest dramatically with one hand while fanning himself with the other. “WORTHLESS?! [One Time Offer Only For You] MERCHANDISE?! OH, HOW COULD YOU?!”
The exaggerated response earns a chuckle from you. “Because… it shouldn’t be about the merchandise.”
Spamton crosses his arms with a huff. You laugh a little louder and lean over to rest your head on his shoulder.
“People use today as an excuse to show their ‘love’ to their partners. They shower each other with expensive gifts and dinners, as if that’s all it takes to maintain a relationship. It’s sickening watching them perform the roles of ‘World’s Best Couple’ for everyone except themselves.”
A beat of silence goes by. You feel his arm move behind you to rest on your shoulder.
“They could just as easily be caring and attentive partners to each other the other 364 days of the year, without all the pomp and circumstance.”
This second beat of silence sends a ripple of insecurity through you. You don’t allow yourself to wonder if you’ve misstepped.
“I don’t mean to be cynical. I’m just a hater, I suppose.”
“YOU ARE.”
He squeezes your shoulder and you both laugh. You wrap your arms around him, nestling closer, just to spend a few moments listening to his clockwork heart beat. Leeching off his radiating warmth, you hug him tighter. Your fingers find purchase against his ribs, and he twitches.
“Besides. There are countless ways to love, and endless ways to show it.”
It’s far too easy at this point. All it takes is a few light touches against his sides. Sometimes you wonder if his reactions are genuine, or if he plays up the first few giggles and squirms just to coax you into continuing. Whatever the reason, the outcome is the same.
“[The possibilities are-] END<LESS?”
There are few sounds sweeter than when his voice starts to crack under the gentle pressure of your fingers. Deftly you trail down his sides as you reply, finding it hard to maintain a nonchalant tone.
“Of course. Would you like me to count the ways?”
He nods. Thinking you’re funny, you knead your fingers between his ribs to silently ‘count’ them. The giggles it elicits are enough to make you laugh a little yourself.
“Flowers and chocolates and fancy dinners are nice every once in a while. But I think there are more meaningful displays of affection. Like… listening to someone vent about their day.”
“I DO THAT.” He tries to open his eyes to meet your gaze, but finds the action just a little challenging.
“You absolutely do! Or…” When suddenly pick up speed, he squeaks before squirming slightly. “… like making their favorite dinner when you know they’ve had a tough day.”
“[Eye] A-ALSO. DO THAT!” He snorts. You nod sagely.
“Most certainly. That I’m especially grateful for. But do you wanna know what I think is my favorite?”
He nods, his words trapped behind his bubbling laughter. Your heart skips a beat as you relish in the sound.
“This.”
By digging both thumbs into his torso, you show him exactly how much you love and appreciate him. You know by the way he dissolves into the couch beneath you that he accepts every ounce of it. And when he throws his head back and giggles your name, you consider that he might even reciprocate it.