The loud honk of the foghorn filled the bedroom. A square, yellow sponge leapt out of bed, singing the words "I'm ready". He was cheery. So bright. Everything Squidward despised. But SpongeBob didn't notice the broad wrinkles and eye bags that the irritable octopus wore. Instead, he gushed over his grey-blue skin, his cold, red pupils, and of course, his oddly shaped nose. So as the oblivious sea creature got dressed in his signature square pants, he decided he would pay a visit to Squidward's house.

"Oh, Squidward!" the sponge sang, pounding on his neighbor's front door. What he received was the sharp reply, "Go away!" SpongeBob stifled a whine, and hung his head. He fiddled with his tie uncomfortably, anxiously waiting for his grouchy idol to swing open his front door and give him a face full of insults. "Four.. three.. two..." he trailed off as Squidward unlocked his front door and opened it, displeasure in his eyes.

"What do you want, SpongeBob? I was just about to make some tea," he grumbled rather calmly. The grey-blue octopus stood tall, one tentacle on his bare hips, and caramel-colored shirt slightly wrinkled. He held an empty mug in his other tentacle. He eyed the sponge rather irritably.

SpongeBob ran inside the decorated Easter Island Head, spinning around in circles, blue eyes wide. "I want you, Squiddy!" He smiled as he sat down on the coral couch in his neighbor's living room. "You're such an artiste! You're such a musician! I could watch you all day." He gushed over Squidward, to which said octopus almost turned red.

"That's perverted!" Squidward cried as he sat down beside the yellow boy. "I can't even get a moments peace when you and Patrick, that moronic friend of yours, are around. What about me makes you love me so much?" He gagged on the word "love".

SpongeBob stretched his porous lips towards Squidward's ear. "Because you're wonderful, Squiddy," he purred. "I love your squishy suction cups. When you dance they pucker ever so gracefully." A smile touched his lips when he saw his neighbor's face go pink. "Watching you sleep is heaven to me. Your nose goes up and down, up and down, whenever you snore. Sometimes you still ink in your sleep!" The cubical creature brought his hands up to his mouth is an effort to hush his giggle fit, but to no avail. He could not hide his blushing either.

Squidward had never felt more disgusted in his life. His cheeks were burning red. He had a deep feeling that SpongeBob was... well, how do you put it? He definitely wasn't straight. The way he interacted with Patrick, the fact that he stalked his own neighbor, and even how he showed no romantic feelings towards that squirrel, Sandy Cheeks, was enough to reveal the sexuality of the square, yellow sponge. The more he thought about it, the more Squidward wanted to hurl. Was it true? He had to ask SpongeBob.

"So, uh.. SpongeBob?" Squidward stuttered, gripping his mug tightly, his suction cups making squishy noises. "W-w-why.. do, um.. y'know? Why do you d-deliberately stalk me in m-m-my sleep? What makes you like me, i-idiot!" He tried to sound disgusted, but his body language revealed otherwise. He was embarrassed. "Why don't you just h-hang out with that squirrel or go j-jellyfishing with P-patrick? Why am I your idol?!"

SpongeBob's eyes began to water. He knew full well that he annoyed the living hell out of Squidward, but he also knew that he was attracted to the grouchy octopus in some way. Why? Well, he couldn't quite grasp it. If he didn't understand the situation, how did he expect to explain it to Squidward? Maybe he couldn't. Hopefully Squidward would somehow understand, because SpongeBob certainly didn't! He crossed his legs, growing nervous.

"Squidward, I'm sorry."

"...What?" Those words pierced his heart. It began to ache. Did he mishear something? No, the words were as plain as day. SpongeBob was apologizing. But for what? For loving him so much? It didn't make much sense, but it caused the octopus to choke up a bit. A few tears met around his eyelids. "R-Robert," he said solemnly. "Don't be." He couldn't believe what he, himself, was saying. He had used SpongeBob's real name, and on top of that, he said that the annoying sponge shouldn't be apologizing. Oh Neptune, what was he doing?

"Oh, Squiddy! Don't sympathize with me," SpongeBob said firmly, elbow resting on the couch arm. "I've realized that, well.. I don't deserve your love. I've tried so hard to make you happy. I've made you countless valentines, sweaters, and even special Krabby Patties for you, but I'm always turned down. You don't even want to be neighbors, let alone friends." Tears were trickling down his porous face. "But I understand, Squidward. You'd like to be away from me. But I never left you alone, and for that I am truly sorry. You don't have to accept my apology. It probably means fishpaste to you anyway."

"Barnacles, SpongeBob!" Squidward didn't know what else to say. His absorbent, yellow neighbor's apology left him at a loss for words. He just sat still, watching SpongeBob cry awkwardly into his bare, blue lap. "It means a lot to me," he started to say. "Maybe I don't like a lot of things about you, but I could never truly hate you. I'm the one who should be sorry, I.. I let my pride rule my heart. Robert, you're a very talented and hardworking young man. I'll still... I'll still always be your next door neighbor. Hey, even Patrick isn't as close as you and me when it comes to 'neighborship'."

SpongeBob looked up, wiping his tears. "Really?" He grinned widely. Squidward was staring down at him with comforting eyes.

"Yes, really."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, SpongeBob, I'm entirely sure."

"Are you sure you're sure?"

"I told you-"

"Are you sure you're sure you're sure?"

"SpongeBob!" Squidward shouted in said sponge's face, causing him to flinch. A few seconds of silence passed before laughter erupted. "Moron," he joked as he pulled SpongeBob in for a cuddle, "you ruined my morning!" They giggled pleasantly.

"Squiddy, can I spend the night in your bed with you?" the young boy pleaded. He batted his eyelids, eyes sparkling. He tugged at his "friend's" shirt eagerly.

"If I really do ink the bed, why would you want to sleep with me?"

"Who doesn't love getting inked on? It so squishy and black. It reminds me of tar. I don't mind it one bit. And when I get ink in my eyes, I squeeze your big nose like a stress ball, to ease the pain. You're always moaning or growling at someone in your sleep, so I like to snuggle with you when I'm scared. You're like my protector. Ah, yeah.. nothing beats a night in your bed!" SpongeBob displayed a perverted smile. "Sometimes I even like to touch your inc sac."

The next few moments were spent in awkward silence.