A/N: I've had plot bunnies nudging at me for weeks to do something fluffy with Wario and Waluigi. I don't think the pairing ever would've occurred to me if CrazeeCanadia hadn't gotten me thinking about it (in a roundabout sort of way). I have a soft-spot for relatively off-beat pairings, though, and since I haven't posted anything for a while I kind of have to go where the inspiration takes me. If it's not obvious from the way it's written, I'd like to further note that these two are not considered related for the sake of this particular piece.

Wario vowed this time would be the last time. When his bizarre roommate was out like a light, practically unconscious and completely serene, it was easy to forget the complicated impulses he could invoke. It was easy to say, Tomorrow, he gets his own place. First thing after work, we find him his own place.

But it was hard to remain resolute when he returned home and found the scrawny creature sitting on the floor in the hallway waiting for him. When those large, gray eyes lit up with joy upon his companion's return—like a dog waiting for his master—it was hard to look into them and say, You know, I've been wondering… It was like Wario was all this lost stray had, and he couldn't find it in his greedy heart to throw the poor creature out.

It wasn't pity or nurturing obligation that made Wario so reluctant to let go, however. If it had been that simple, he wouldn't have felt so twisted inside. No, this being fawned over him and obeyed his every command. Like a pet. Like a treasured thing that belonged to him. And Wario never liked throwing out what was his. He hated sharing his things. He liked having this odd creature all to himself to do with as he pleased.

He was addicted to the power.

But owning another person. Another doppelganger, no less. It couldn't have been right. Of course since when had Wario ever worried about what was 'right' or not? Or maybe his desire to do 'right' by this stray made it okay to keep him like an object in a collection. At least the quandary was there.

Maybe it would have been easier if he could ascertain that his roommate understood the situation. That he knew he had options, if he wanted to leave. That he didn't have to stay inside alone and frustrated all day while Wario was at work or off on an adventure. And Wario could ask. He could say, I've been wondering if you really like being here. But if he opened that line of dialogue, he could never close it. If he gave his pet the opportunity to say no, he wouldn't be able to placate his conscience with feigned ignorance any more.

Wario told himself it had been the last time he'd put his hands on his bizarre roommate under the guise of coaxing him to sleep. Told himself that last night had been the last night he took advantage of the simplistic, single-minded acquiescence to wallow in his ownership of this strange and… flexible treasure.

Then the slim shape rolled onto his back and the large, angular eyes squinted at the fat man lying on the opposite side of the bed. One eye blinked slowly while the back of a boney hand rubbed at the other eye. "Is it morning?" Waluigi asked sleepily.

Wario smiled. "Almost."

Waluigi sat up abruptly. The blanket fell away from his bare chest to reveal the delicate pattern of his just barely visible ribs. "Y-you woke up before me. Why didn't you…"

"Lie down. I'm not hungry yet." How could he give up someone so eager and willing to please? Not even light outside, and the poor stray still assumed that he was supposed to be up first, cooking breakfast so that Wario didn't have to wait.

Waluigi settled back into his pillow. His forehead wore a confused crinkle now. "Then what do you want?"

Wario thought about asking his question, but he didn't. "Nothing."

"But you were staring…"

"I like watching you sleep," Wario lied.

"Oh."

No questions. No complaints. Waluigi accepted the answer and continued to hold Wario's gaze, as if waiting for something. Another command? Did he know what Wario was already beginning to think as he stared into those ever-watchful, ever-waiting eyes? If Waluigi wanted to fight back, he would. Wario was sure of it. And he hadn't yet. Maybe he enjoyed fawning over Wario as much as Wario enjoyed being fawned over. Maybe this lost creature needed direction and Wario was the only one who could give it to him.

In a way, it was even for Waluigi's own good...

"Come here," Wario said, placing a large hand on the other man's impossibly skinny waist and tugging. Waluigi scooted closer without hesitating, even when Wario leaned across him to kiss the point of his long, thin ear.

This stray was his treasure. Wario had a right to enjoy him. Nothing else mattered.

…Right?