BLOOM'S OSC ONESHOTS (CLOSED FOR A BIT)

Another night of gaming [Pickle x Bomb]

Requested by: Hugz4bomb

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The clock silently ticked throughout the hallways. The sound of the clicking of a controller was prominent as Pickle stared at the bright TV screen. He was playing games, like his usual routine everyday. Late at night, though? That isn't technically a part of his routine—and it’s extremely unhealthy to do so—but he had his own reasons. Really bad ones. Unfortunately, he was just like that. You can’t do anything about it, but you could try if you wanted to.

As his vision slowly got even more blurry by the second, he was slowly nodding off. Just one more round, he repeated in his head, knowing it wasn’t true one bit. It was very easy for him to fall asleep, which was quite the opposite for some of the other residents. How ironic.

Before he knew it his grip on the controller loosened, nearly slipping from his hands as he leaned back. His eyes fluttered shut as sleep took over, his body sinking into the pillows behind him.

Bomb stepped down the stairs, rubbing one of his eyes to at least feel more awake. He had been wondering where Pickle was, considering that it was quite late at night already. He knew he was the type to stay up, but he at least wanted to know where he was. He wouldn’t want him to run off to god knows where.

He walked through the hallway, making his way to the living room. To no surprise, he found Pickle unconscious on the couch, his hands loosely holding the controller as the buzzing of the TV filled the room.

He sighed with no frustration behind it. Of course he fell asleep mid-game. That was very in-character for him. He honestly didn’t know what other reason there would be for him staying up this late. A small smile was on his face, crouching to shut off the TV. After he did so, he went over and carefully pried the controller off of his hands, making sure to not wake him up.

Instead of waking him up, he grabbed a nearby blanket from the side, draping it over Pickle’s body. He mumbled something incoherent in his sleep, sinking further into the cushions. Gosh, he’s so stupid.

Bomb could’ve left by now, but he would feel bad if he just left him alone like this. Plus, it was better if he slept with Pickle anyway—not in that way. The couch was big enough and there was enough room for Bomb to join him. So, rather than leaving him alone, he laid down right beside Pickle. As he settled in the sheets, Pickle unconsciously and almost instinctively leaned onto Bomb.

A wave of exhaustion hit him, pressing his body closer to Pickle’s. The warmth of the couch made him feel comforted, along with the presence of his boyfriend, of course. He eventually fell asleep, his body not being able to resist the comfiness of the couch. The blanket, the cushions behind himself, along with his one and only made his rest even better.

They would both wake up well-rested. Though, Bomb was gonna have to talk to Pickle after last night.

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Word count: 568

> I’m so sorry that this took way longer and is shorter than usual, I’m…not doing well mentally and I’m quite overwhelmed!