Chapter Text
It's been a full week since the breakfast table incident, and Cosmo still doesn't know what a situationship is. He asked around, his curiosity nearly boiling over, but every toon he approached brushed him off with an awkward laugh. Was it bad that he didn’t know? Was it something taboo? Sprout, for his part, never brought the incident up again. But whenever Cosmo tried to, Sprout would find an excuse, mutter something, and scurry away.
Speaking of Sprout, Cosmo had been missing his company. The strawberry toon had been too busy with other things—things Cosmo hadn’t even gotten the chance to ask about because Sprout kept avoiding him! Was whatever he was dealing with really so important that he couldn’t make time for his best friend? It was starting to sting a little.
“Shelly?” Cosmo knocks on her bedroom door. It only takes a second before Shelly enthusiastically greets him with a hug and a wide smile. Cosmo giggles at her energetic greeting.
“Cosmo! What’s up? Did you forget something in my room, or…?” she asks, tilting her head.
“...Actually, I’m here to ask about Sprout, um…” Cosmo fidgets with his fingers, glancing at the floor. “Is there an event for the main characters or something? I haven’t seen him in a while.”
“Oh!” Shelly’s eyes widen briefly before she looks awkwardly to the side. “Oh…”
“Oh—what? What’s wrong?” Cosmo asks, leaning forward with concern.
“I can’t really tell you because… it’s just between him and a few friends…”
“But I’m also his friend!” Cosmo nearly whines before catching himself. “Is he sick? Or… something else? Did he get in trouble?”
“No, no, Cosmo!” Shelly hastily shakes her head, her tone trying to be reassuring. “It’s nothing fatal or serious! It’s just that… he’s, uh…”
Cosmo can tell she’s fighting with herself, torn between keeping Sprout’s secret and not wanting to lie outright. Shelly’s nervous fidgeting only makes his curiosity burn hotter. But it also makes his heart sink—why is he the only one in the dark about this?
“I’m not trying to pry, Shelly, but I’m seriously getting concerned. Is Sprout in his room? I’ll go see him.” Cosmo steps back, his eyes already trailing to the path leading to Sprout’s door. Before he can take another step, Shelly grabs his arm and tugs him back into her room, quickly shutting and locking the door behind them.
“Shelly!? What the—”
“Shh!” She presses both hands over his mouth, silencing him before he can finish. Cosmo awkwardly leans against the door, eyes wide, waiting for an explanation. Shelly’s hesitation is palpable, and she’s taking far longer to answer than he would like.
“Sprout is… uh,” Shelly’s voice trembles as she struggles to find the right words. “Embarrassed. And… overgrown right now.”
“Embarrassed and… what?” Cosmo blinks, completely thrown off. “Did I hear that right?”
“Yes, you heard that right!” Shelly squeaks, clamping a hand over her mouth as soon as the words escape her. Lowering her voice to a whisper, she pleads, “But please don’t tell Sprout I told you that. He’ll kick me straight into the moon!”
“I’m really sorry, Shelly, but I’m still very confused.” Cosmo scratches his head, his face scrunched in frustration. “What’s the connection here?”
“You mean… you’ve never witnessed it?” Shelly asks, her voice hesitant.
“Witnessed what?”
“When he’s… overgrown?”
“No! I don’t even know what you mean by that!” Cosmo’s voice rises in exasperation, but Shelly quickly shushes him with a frantic wave of her hands, her expression a mix of panic and desperation.
“Well–no worries!” she stammers, visibly sweating. “He’ll be back to normal eventually! It just… takes time!”
“That means he’s in his room now, right?” Cosmo’s eyes narrow as he processes her words.
“Yes, but–wait, where are you going!?” Shelly yelps as Cosmo turns on his heel, determination in his stride. Before he can take another step, she grabs his arm and tugs him back into her room again.
“Where else!” Cosmo huffs, trying to break free.
Shelly pulls him back with surprising strength, panic written all over her face. “Cosmo, please! You can’t just barge in on him like that!”
“I just want to make sure he’s okay, Shelly. He’s been avoiding me for days!” Cosmo’s voice softens, frustration giving way to genuine concern. “You said he’s embarrassed, right? Maybe I can help.”
Shelly bites her lip, clearly torn. “I… I don’t know if he’s ready to talk about it yet, Cosmo. It’s really personal…” And he specifically said he doesn't want to see you, but Shelly omits that fact.
Cosmo steps back slightly, his eyes searching Shelly’s face. “I’m his friend. You can’t keep me in the dark like this.”
For a moment, Shelly looks as though she’s about to argue again, but then her shoulders slump, as if the weight of the situation is finally too much. “I… I guess it’s better that you know than not,” she murmurs, glancing around as though to make sure no one is listening.
“Sprout’s… he’s going through a growth spurt. But it’s not like any normal one. It’s... really complicated.”
Cosmo raises an eyebrow, still not fully understanding. “Growth spurt? Like what?”
Shelly sighs, lowering her voice. “He’s overgrown in a way that’s—well, his hair! I guess? Something like that! It gets really messy in his room. You know, plant problems, haha!” She adds an awkward laugh, trying to brush it off.
Cosmo’s confusion deepens, but something about Shelly’s words starts to sink in. “So it’s not… permanent?”
“No! It’s temporary! But it’s messing with him,” Shelly says quickly, then hesitates. “He doesn’t want anyone to see him like this. I think that’s why he’s been avoiding you.”
Cosmo blinks, trying to process the information. “So... he’s not sick? Or in danger?”
“No, no, nothing like that. He just feels… overwhelmed. I don’t think he knows how to deal with it.” Shelly looks guilty. “I’m sorry, Cosmo. I didn’t want to tell you like this, but…we should let the handlers deal with his problem.”
Cosmo softens, his concern growing. “I get it, Shelly. I just wish he’d let me help. I want to be there for him.”
Shelly nods slowly, her expression softening too. “I know. He just needs time. I’m sure he’ll come around.”
“I hope so.” Cosmo’s eyes linger on the door to Sprout’s room. “I’ll give him space… but I’ll be here when he’s ready. I have millions of questions for him.”
Shelly gives him a reassuring smile. “He’s lucky to have someone like you, Cosmo.”
Cosmo smiles back, his resolve firming. “We’re friends. I’ll always be here for him.”
Shelly’s smile becomes crooked for a few seconds before she straightens up with a nervous laugh. "I really hope it all works out for him... for both of you."
(Inside Shelly's mind, what she just heard was a diabolical friendzone moment.)
While Cosmo loves to keep promises, others' safety is always his top priority. He couldn’t stand the thought of Sprout being alone in his room, struggling with something he didn’t understand, even if it was just a temporary issue. Cosmo had promised to be there for him, and he intended to keep that promise, no matter what. But that didn’t stop the unease creeping up his spine. It was late, too late, and he was in his pajamas—hardly the attire for a serious conversation.
But he couldn't let that stop him. This was for Sprout.
He raised a hand to knock, hesitating for just a second before he did, the night still and heavy around him. He couldn't shake the feeling that something about this moment felt... different. Shelly had told him Sprout needed space, but Cosmo couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in his gut. Maybe Sprout didn't need space so much as someone to just be there.
Taking a deep breath, Cosmo finally knocked on the door, his knuckles making a soft sound in the quiet hall. He waited. The silence stretched on for what felt like an eternity, and just as he was about to knock again, the faintest shuffle of movement came from inside the room.
"Sprout?" Cosmo called softly, his voice almost a whisper, as if he's luring a cornered animal, "It's me, Cosmo."
He leaned closer to the door, heart pounding in his chest. Was Sprout going to be upset? Would he even open the door? Would he want to talk? Cosmo was prepared for any answer, though his nerves were on edge.
No matter how hard it was, Cosmo knew one thing for certain—he couldn't walk away now. He had to be there for his friend.
“I wanted to see you,” Cosmo continues, his voice soft but earnest, “I miss you, buddy. May I come in?”
For a long moment, there’s nothing but silence. Cosmo stands there, his heart thumping in his chest, wondering if he should just turn away and give up. He hadn't expected Sprout to answer right away, but the uncertainty gnaws at him. Just as he's about to speak again, the sound of the lock clicking catches his attention, and the door creaks open slowly.
The faint sounds from inside the room grow louder, unmistakable now: Sprout's music—sharp, vibrant, and all over the place—rings through the air, a wild mix of sounds that have always been uniquely his. It’s not the calm, mellow tunes Cosmo would have expected in a moment like this, but the chaotic energy only feels more like Sprout's taste.
Sprout grabs Cosmo’s arm and pulls him into the room. Cosmo stares at the arm that pulled him, noticing some of the seeds that substitute as freckles now sprouting leaves. The heavy weight of silence settles around them despite the loud music. He glances around, his eyes taking in the disarray, the overgrowth, and the strange, almost surreal way the room feels now—like it’s not quite the same one he’s used to seeing Sprout in. There’s a clutter of plant life everywhere: vines tangled over the desk, around the windowsill, and creeping along the floor. Not to mention the strawberry seeds scattered all around.
And there, sitting in the middle of it all, is Sprout, who has decided to cover himself with a thin blanket. His appearance is unmistakably overgrown—wild, sharp hair silhouetted by the blanket, vines curling up his arms, his whole posture giving the impression that he’s physically and mentally outgrown the space.
Sprout doesn’t immediately look up. He’s absorbed in his music, his hands absentmindedly playing with the edge of the blanket. He looks almost like a Halloween ghost. In some way, he's kind of mimicking Astro, too.
“I... I know you probably don’t want to talk about it,” Cosmo starts, stepping closer, his voice quieter now. “But I’m here, Sprout. I’m not going anywhere.” Though if Sprout told him to get out of the room, he wouldn’t hesitate to leave. But so far, there’s been no retaliation.
The silence stretches on, only broken by the cacophony of the music. Finally, Sprout's voice cuts through the air, barely above a whisper but enough to make Cosmo stop in his tracks.
"Why are you here, Cosmo?" he asks, his voice thick with something Cosmo can't quite place—resignation? Shame? Maybe a bit of both.
Cosmo swallows, taking a step closer, but still keeping a respectful distance. "Because you’re my friend. And friends don't just disappear when things get tough. I want to be here for you."
Sprout's gaze flickers to him through the thin blanket. Through the gaps, Cosmo can almost make out his eye, but his face is still half-hidden beneath a mess of hair. “I don’t want you to see me like this,” he says, almost pleading, though there’s a quiet bitterness to his tone.
Cosmo shakes his head, his voice unwavering. “I’ve already seen you at your best and your worst, Sprout. None of that changes how I feel. You're still the same person, overgrowth or not."
A moment of stillness passes between them. Slowly, Sprout reaches for the volume dial on his music player, lowering the volume just enough for them to hear each other without the harsh feedback of the music.
“Let me guess–Shelly?”
“...I will neither confirm nor deny.” Cosmo awkwardly laughs, scratching the back of his neck.
Sprout groans, readjusting his blanket to properly cover himself again before inelegantly plopping down on his bed. He pulls the edges of the blanket tighter around him, as if trying to hide from the world. The room feels even more cramped now with the overgrowth and the heavy silence that settles between them.
“So…” Cosmo casually looks around Sprout's room, taking it all in for the second time. The overgrowth, the vines tangled in every corner, the scattered seeds, and the faint smell of fresh earth. “Love how you decorated the place. You should definitely add more plants, though. You can never have too many, right?”
“Ugh,” Sprout groans, rolling over in his bed with his back facing Cosmo. “I’ll have to clean all this up once whatever I have dies down. I don’t know how much longer I can handle it like this.”
“Hey, no worries, I’ll help you!” Cosmo insists, shifting closer to Sprout’s covered form. He leans back slightly, glancing at the chaos around them. “You know, all that mess we make in the kitchen really leveled up my cleaning skills. If I can handle the aftermath of our failed cooking attempts, I can handle this.”
Sprout sighs, still not facing him. “I don’t want to bother you, Cosmo. You already got a lot on your plate because of my absence. I’m just... being difficult.”
Cosmo shakes his head, his face softening as he leans closer to Sprout. “Come on,” he says gently, letting his weight rest on Sprout’s torso. His head tilts slightly to where he guesses Sprout’s head is beneath the blanket, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not a bother, Sprout. You'll never be a bother to me.”
If Cosmo were to hover a hand over Sprout's cheek, he'd definitely feel the heat beginning to burn on Sprout's face, flustered by the whisper, by the breath of air he could feel through the blanket. It’s as though the warmth is radiating from him, as if he’s more than just embarrassed by the closeness, but overwhelmed by something deeper he can’t quite control.
“Cos…”
“Yes?” Cosmo replies, his voice filled with anticipation as he continues to stare at Sprout’s covered face.
“I can't focus on the conversation if you keep talking to me like that…”
Cosmo leans back slightly, processing what he just heard. His mind stumbles over the words, trying to make sense of them, trying to understand the weight behind Sprout’s quiet statement. His heart skips a beat, but he stays still, giving Sprout the space he might need. The room feels even quieter now, a tension he didn't mean to create lingering in the air between them, thick with unspoken words.
“Am I making you uncomfortable…?” Cosmo asks, his voice soft but laced with concern.
“In some way, yeah…” Sprout mutters, his voice barely audible as he shifts under the blanket, clearly not looking at Cosmo.
“What do you mean, in some way???” Cosmo presses, his tone a mix of confusion and surprise. He leans in slightly, trying to catch Sprout's gaze, wanting to understand what’s going on, what’s causing the tension between them. But before he can get any closer, Sprout quickly turns his face into the mattress, hiding from Cosmo’s questioning eyes.
It’s only then that Cosmo realizes the position he's in—his whole body is practically straddling over Sprout’s covered form, and the proximity feels different now. His breath hitches slightly, his face flushing with the sudden heat of realization. He attempts to pull back, but before he can, Sprout quickly wraps his arms around him, pulling him closer. The blanket still acts as a barrier between them, but the closeness, the warmth, and the unexpected gesture leave Cosmo frozen, unsure of what to do next.
Hesitantly, Cosmo attempts to hug back Sprout and tries to adjust his body. He slots his head on Sprout's shoulders.
“Cos, please, stop moving…”
“Oh! Sorry, okay, I'll stop,” Cosmo stutters, his voice a little too loud in the otherwise quiet room. He takes a moment to compose himself, but his eyes can't help but wander to Sprout's exposed arm, now wrapped around him. He watches the leaves that have sprouted from his freckles gently sway with the breeze from the ceiling fan. It's an oddly calming sight, the subtle movement drawing his attention in a way he hadn't expected. For a second, everything feels oddly still, as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving just the two of them in this strange, quiet moment.
“Is this itchy, Sprout?” Cosmo asks, pointing at the leaves dotted along Sprout’s arm. “It looks like it is.”
Sprout’s reply is muffled, his face half-buried in his pillow. “It is. I just ignore it.”
“Must feel torturous. Here, let me.”
Sprout doesn’t say anything more as Cosmo raises a hand to his arm, lightly scratching at the seeds embedded in his skin. It doesn’t take much pressure before one of them loosens and falls onto the covers of his bed.
Cosmo notices patches of Sprout’s skin that are darker than the rest and instinctively avoids those spots, his fingers careful as they move along. When he gets to the tiny leaves starting to grow, he presses a fingernail gently into the center of one. Sure enough, it dislodges and falls away on its own.
Sprout lets out a sigh, though Cosmo isn’t sure if it’s from relief, stress, or something else entirely.
Cosmo hesitates for a moment, his eyes lingering on the messy strands of Sprout’s hair peeking out from his vision. Then, carefully, he raises his hand to Sprout’s head, his fingers brushing lightly against his scalp.
He presses his fingertips down and begins rubbing and scratching gently, his movements slow and deliberate.
Sprout doesn’t say a word. Instead, he wordlessly leans into the touch, his body relaxing ever so slightly as Cosmo continues. The quiet between them feels heavier, more meaningful, as if the silence itself carries something unspoken.
Cosmo’s hand slowed as his own eyelids grew heavy, the rhythmic motion of scratching Sprout’s scalp lulling him into a drowsy haze. He was on the verge of drifting off when Sprout’s voice broke the silence, soft and hesitant.
“Cosmo…” Sprout began, his tone so quiet it barely registered.
Cosmo blinked himself awake, his hand pausing mid-motion. “Yeah?”
Sprout shifts slightly, adjusting himself before finally pulling the blanket down from his face. Cosmo blinks, startled by the movement, and observes him closely.
There’s obvious discoloration under Sprout’s eyes, the telltale sign of sleepless nights. His hair is longer now, loose strands framing his face and nearly hiding it entirely.
Cosmo’s fingers pause briefly in their motion before he speaks, his voice soft. “You’re not sleeping much, are you?”
Sprout shrugs, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Not really.”
Cosmo frowns, his hand moving from Sprout’s scalp to gently tuck a stray lock of hair away from his face. “Do you want me to cut your hair after this?” he murmurs, his tone filled with quiet concern rather than judgment.
Sprout doesn’t reply at first, he only nods, his eyes flickering toward Cosmo’s for a fleeting moment before looking away. Then, barely above a whisper, he says, “...I missed you too.”
Cosmo giggles softly, the sound warm and teasing as he gently pats Sprout’s cheek. “Too late for that, don’t you think?”
Sprout groans, the sound more embarrassed than annoyed, and pulls Cosmo into a tighter hug. He buries his face into Cosmo’s shoulder, hiding from him again. “Whatever,” he mumbles, his voice muffled.
Cosmo chuckles, wrapping his arms around Sprout again. “Sorry, sorry,” he says, his voice warm with amusement as he rubs his face against the side of Sprout’s head. “Kinda miss our sleepovers. Planning on inviting me over now?”
Sprout hums softly, his body starting to relax against Cosmo’s. “Stay,” he murmurs, the word quiet and unguarded. As he speaks, he lazily tilts his head toward Cosmo, leaning in closer without realizing it.
Then it happens—his lips brush against Cosmo’s. It’s brief, just a feather-light touch, but the unexpected softness sends a shock through Sprout. His whole body tenses as if struck by lightning, and for a moment, his mind blanks.
When the realization sinks in, Sprout jerks back abruptly, his eyes wide with panic and his face burning with embarrassment. He stares at Cosmo in horror, his mouth opening and closing as he struggles to find the words to explain.
Cosmo blinks in surprise, the moment catching him off guard too, but the initial shock quickly melts into a grin. “Well,” he starts, his tone teasing as the corners of his lips curl upward, “that’s one way to invite me over.”
Sprout groans, hiding his face in his hands as his entire face flushes a deeper shade of red. Before he can stammer out a defense or come up with an excuse, Cosmo grabs him by the shirt and pulls him close. Their lips crash together in a kiss, Cosmo’s frustration melting away into months of pent-up longing. Their teeth clank awkwardly in the process, but neither of them stops, and neither bothers to call the other out for it.
When Cosmo finally pulls back, his chest rises and falls as he tries to catch his breath. Sprout sits frozen, his eyes wide and unblinking, clearly startled. He can practically hear the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears, so loud it feels like his entire body is vibrating with its intensity.
But then something shifts. His hands find their way to Cosmo’s shoulders, gripping them tightly, and he leans in, pressing his lips to Cosmo’s with startling intensity. The kiss is messy and desperate, a reflection of everything he’s been holding back. It’s raw and unpolished, like he’s been waiting just as long, unable to keep it inside any longer.
Cosmo’s breath hitches at the sudden fervor, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he matches Sprout’s energy, the moment spiraling into something that feels overwhelming and electric, yet long overdue.
Sprout’s kiss grows more urgent, his tongue clumsily poking into Cosmo’s mouth, a messy, desperate movement. It’s awkward, but neither of them cares. Drool practically rolls down Sprout’s chin, the physicality of it all only adding to the rawness of the moment. He’s so lost in the kiss, in the intensity of the feelings that have been building between them for so long, that everything else fades away.
Cosmo attempts to respond with equal intensity, his hands pulling Sprout closer, fingers tangling in his long hair as he kisses him back with everything he’s been holding back. The messiness, the clumsy motions—they’re all part of it, until Cosmo finally feels the need to take a breather.
As Cosmo tugs on Sprout’s hair, pulling him even closer, a sharp, involuntary sound slips from Sprout’s lips—a breathy, low moan that vibrates between them. His body shudders slightly, his chest pressing into Cosmo’s, the feeling both surprising and intense. He tries to steady himself, but his mind is too clouded, too consumed by the overwhelming rush of emotions.
Cosmo’s fingers tighten in Sprout’s hair, holding him there for a moment longer before pulling away, both of them gasping for air. The room feels charged with heat, and Cosmo presses his forehead to Sprout’s, gasping for air, his chest rising and falling rapidly. His head spins, light from the intensity of the kiss, and he presses his forehead against Sprout’s to steady himself.
“Okay, calm down,” he says, his voice breathless but tinged with laughter, a soft, amused sound.
Sprout, still caught up in the heat of the moment, leans forward again, his lips chasing after Cosmo’s, but Cosmo gently holds him back. “I think you're forgetting something,” he says with a playful grin, his hands resting on Sprout’s chest as he catches his breath, trying to calm them both down.
Sprout, his own breathing heavy, is caught in a rush of overwhelming frustration. His body’s reacting before his mind can catch up, and he has to physically stop himself from grinding against Cosmo’s leg. He clenches his fists, struggling to regain control as his mind races. Hastily, he wipes the spit from the corners of his lips, trying to compose himself, his face flushed with both embarrassment and desire.
"...What?" he mutters, his voice shaky as he looks up at Cosmo, clearly flustered.
Cosmo smirks, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Ask me out?” he says.