Work Text:
It had been sunny when Bob caught SMG1 on his way home. The guardian was on his way to SMG3’s cafe, having read to the baby Yoshis that afternoon and needing a pick-me-up. Bob had decided to accompany him, and as the two walked, the sky darkened, and the first raindrops began to fall.
Luckily, One and Two’s cottage was nearby, so they ran there before it worsened, hoping to wait out the storm. They were lying on the couch, One on top of Bob, as some documentary played on TV—something about Boxology, but Bob didn’t care much for it if he was honest.
He’d rather do a million other things, but the way it makes his partner light up makes it worth it and keeps him from complaining.
Well, too much, anyway.
Bob’s eyes drift from the TV, finding themselves on the guardian in his arms, currently too engrossed in the TV to notice him. Having removed his hat, One’s antennae hang relaxedly around his head, though not enough to distract him.
Being around SMG1 had taught Bob many things he would not have known at first glance about the guardian. And boy, he learned a lot. But since the beginning of their…partnership, one thing had kept his interest peaked.
‘I wonder…’
His free hand approaches One’s antenna, the tip of the blade lightly pressed against the thin flesh. Bob freezes as One tenses up, his partner letting out a sharp breath. However, he doesn’t move, merely shifting so that his antennae are out of Bob’s blade’s range.
Interesting.
He waits until One’s attention is back on the TV, the narrator’s monotonous tone fading into the background as the Garo slowly inches his blade towards the antennae again. Bob doesn’t notice the guardian stilling on top of him as the blade makes contact, pausing for a second before dragging the tip down the delicate organ. This time, One jolts, a moan escaping him as something hard presses up against Bob’s leg.
The two freeze momentarily, a second or so passing before One pushes himself off the Garo and scrambles to the other corner of the couch. The TV continues to blare, the only thing filling the silence between the two before Bob speaks up.
“Well, that’s new.”
One’s blush goes brighter, turning his skin a darker shade of blue.
“Well, uh,” he stammers, looking away from the Garo as he fidgets nervously. “They’re sensitive, and, uh, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable; I—” Any other words he would’ve said are interrupted as Bob’s lips press against his own, cutting him off. After a moment, he pulls away, using his blade to cup the shorter man’s cheek, mint green locking onto black.
“Babe, it's alright. It just surprised me, that’s all,” Bob says reassuringly. One sighs, though his relief is shortlived as Bob’s blade leaves his cheek. Suddenly, his back hits the cushion, Bob looming over him with a cheeky smirk.
”However, I wonder…” Bob’s voice, unusually low and whispery, sends shivers down the guardian’s back as Bob leans in again.
“What are you- Mngh!!” One tries to ask, the question turning into a groan as the Garo’s lips find his neck, nipping and sucking at the scarred skin as Bob relocates One’s antenna, the blade tip tangling itself around One’s antenna, lightly tugging it upward. The slight pain brings a rush of pleasure that makes One practically whine as his hands find Bob’s cloak, grasping the fabric tightly as he rolls his hips against the Garo.
Bob’s other sword hand trails down One’s side, leaving goosebumps in its wake as the blade lowers near his midsection, the tip dangerously close to his inner thigh.
“B-bob, please-” One whimpers breathlessly.
However, before they can proceed, the front door opens, and Two’s shrill voice rings throughout the house.
“One! You in here?”
Shit.
Bob’s off of him instantly, leaving the shorter a flustered mess. He scrambles to compose himself, the flush on his face barely fading as Two steps into the living room.