We're Two (for scarlett_goddess_of_darkness)

Author's note: Creator and owner of Red's girlfriend Scarlett in this fic is a girl from insta, who deeply loves Red (and really could use a moodlifter back when the fic itself was written).
I already have my own Muppet monster to love (and for over 25 years at that), so was more than happy to write a drabble about the similar feelings, as well as Red Guy discovering love without any help of suspicious pesky bees.

And did I mention mop monsters can not only devour fears and nightmares, but take away one's sadness if needed? Such soft and caring creatures they are. Normally, anyway. ^_^ /fanon

I

First thing you do to comfort a crying girl in a coffee shop is gently bite her in the shoulder – playfully, like a cub would – and, almost right away, rub your head against it to wordlessly let her know: "Friendly." And only then lick the bitter tears off her face until she stops wincing and calms down.

There's, however, one more important detail to it: it works only among mop monsters.

Red had witnessed it many times since being only a bit bigger than his Dad's paw. Mom had been worrying for Dad's life back then: his prey, a huge nightmare, hadn't completely dissolved within him yet, causing him pain from time to time, and that was how he used to comfort Mom – as far as his bloated form let him.

Even though Red didn't know the girl, or her grief, it wouldn't be fair to just leave her with it. Especially if you yourself are warm, comfortable, and about to burst with cookies and tea – and sadness, he almost felt after she whispered it all out into his mane. He'd never thought it was possible to take, let alone taste, the other's sadness, but there it was, lingering on his tongue like custard and laying within just nice. It's better off there, than bothering you, he whispered back, smiling under his mane and looking her in the eye.

And then, unexpectedly, she breathed out her name. Oddly enough for mop folk, not matching the dark-chocolate color of her pelt: Scarlett. But it sure did complement that of his own. And the strands of their yarn manes, almost intertwined now that she leaned to his shoulder, looked so right together it even made Red chuckle – and, thanks heavens, her too.

He almost wasn't surprised, taking her by the delicate paw, that the coffee shop disappeared, leaving them both sitting on the silvery crescent moon – legs dangling down in the light purple evening fog, and Red himself holding his own house mug in another paw. Just my heart revealing a wish and nothing more, don't be afraid.

She wasn't, somehow knowing this was, in fact, simply his pure dream coming to life. She wasn't surprised when he scooped up and offered her a mug full of evening freshness – or that it was possible to drink it, feel it touch the lips, throat, heart softly, like spring water, and clear out her mind. He finished the other half of the mug; slightly rose a paw, inviting to lean on, and froze, because words were just getting lost in the ocean of clouds and stars – and, truth be told, now the two monsters needed just being an islet of warmth much more than words.

Two; there's two of us, dawned on him as a warm breeze slightly whooshed both their manes, a wave of red mixing with a wave of chocolate brown; and suddenly it stung him, but what if my teeth scratched her at first, what if- luckily, they didn't, he understood, slightly nuzzling the spot he – even playfully, but still – bit. And it's even more of a surprise when Scarlett buries her face in his hair in response.

Is that how you understand you're two?

Only you yourselves, high above the ground – or so it probably seems to you. They say love clouds your mind, but how it is for the two monsters who both had just drinken evening freshness, yet are warm against each other, large eyes soaking in each other's crisp image, not wanting to miss even the tiniest feature?

And before Red could say a word, his bright red mitten paw somehow ended up between Scarlett's delicate brown ones. Her soundless plead to him, her "stay". Somehow, he rested his head atop of hers, the lush red mane almost completely hiding her eyes and face. His wordless "…I do".

II

So who's happier,
a cherry because it's being coated with chocolate,
or the chocolate
because it gets to coat a cherry?

Somehow… Her paws aren't even that big – quite contraire, even being same soft mittens as his own, they seem way too fragile for a monster – yet somehow, it feels like they're all over him. Or maybe it's always that way: get your core warmed, and the rest of your being will follow.

Replete as he is, Red still is far from an actual cherry. Yet somehow, Scarlett's touch flows from under his ribs to sides and then to the curved-out linea alba like melting thick chocolate, and he's flustered, because yes, it doesn't look like his usual bit of a belly either – more like a bulk that lays like an unusually large, ripened berry in her paws: just a bit more effort and it will fall on the ground.

That's what you are. Her warm breath on his fuzzy skin. Ripened, Red. You're just ripened. A chuckle. So much I can hear the juices in you flow.

Cookies and tea, her past grief – sweet custard to his tongue and a delight of knowing he freed her of it, – evening freshness, and now love. Red had seen how much a mop monster's stomach can handle, his own father being a living example for months. But as for himself? Was he even sure? The two dark chocolate-colored paws of a monster girl resting on it seemed to whisper: try, see what will happen.

And thanks heavens, this time it's not even a vision he's having, good or bad. He is present, is himself a present, and enjoys every second of it.

To blink
slowly, at your pace;
to rub my head against
yours and let the wave of your mane
hit mine,
to let you lean, and lift
you, and turn into
a ripened fruit under your touch,
a windfall fruit, maybe,
if you so desire.

…she returns the bite, she didn't forget it: just as playful, no head-rub afterwards even needed – he can see clearly it's only a little, loving gesture, and his shoulder aches only a tiny bit, just enough to distract him from the heaviness that almost made him drowsy.

"Ah." Red pretends to flinch.

"Ah, you." Scarlett decisively stretches her neck out to him with a chuckle. "You overripe cherry." And nudges him with her head playfully. "Fall down already, will you; the ground awaits."

For a split second, Red (glun-k) loses the balance – gods, not on the be- I'll burst- thanks heavens, it's not. Scarlett's soft paws manage to slip under his globe in half an inch from the ground, cushioning the fall – slowly slip out, letting it rest, and hover over to pat, apologizing, before the monstress herself stretches out in the soft grass.

Just tops of their heads
and eyes
touch as they twain rest
under the same starry sky
they had seen from above
a little earlier,
but even so
is enough to engulf them
with happiness,
shared since this minute
forever.

November 2021