BLOOM'S OSC ONESHOTS (CLOSED FOR A BIT)

Just "Borrowing" [Trophy x Pickle]

Requested by: tunalemoncat

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Trophy was absolutely freezing that day. He didn’t know that apparently he had such a terrible job at regulating his body temperature, but he could barely move his hands as it felt like it was frozen solid. The feeling was genuinely pissing him off; he definitely wasn’t a big fan of being extremely cold.

He sat in his own room, freezing to death as he had a thin blanket wrapped around his own body. Great, just great, he thought butterfly. This was definitely not working at all. He knew he needed to get warm. He huffed, pushing the soft blankets away as he felt the cold air against his skin, making him shiver. He got out of the bed and looked around for literally anything that could help him in this situation. Maybe he had spare clothes or some sort of jacket around here?

He glanced at a chair, a sweater laying on top. That’s weird, did Pickle leave it here? His eyes lit up, He went over to the seat and grabbed the pair of clothing, observing it for a bit. He could tell it was Pickle’s from the faint traces of his cologne. The scent was oddly comforting.

Trophy put the sweater over his head, slipping it onto his own torso. It was a bit oversized—the sleeves longer than his actual arms and the clothing feeling loose. He couldn’t help but feel instantly warmer, like he was standing in front of a heater.

He glanced at the mirror, adjusting the piece of clothing on him. Huh. Fit’s just fine. He felt his face getting warmer as he looked at his own reflection, his appearance looking a little silly after putting it on. God, he hated looking like this, but he didn’t want to freeze to death today. Even if his appearance looked weird, he still oddly liked the feeling of the clothing. Maybe I should wear these more often.

But a thought suddenly popped up in his head. Pickle wouldn’t mind if he saw me wearing this, right? Even if he did mind, that wasn’t even a choice anymore. He was definitely not gonna ask him first, he would be absolutely humiliated if he did. He couldn’t tell him that he was chilly and wanted something to cover himself up with, that sounded extremely pathetic for someone like him.

Despite his thoughts, he couldn’t deny that it was comfortable. The sweater was fluffy, and each time he caught a faint whiff of the scent, he felt his face heat up a little more. This was so pathetic of him. He sighed before flopping back onto his bed, letting himself sink into the comfort of the sheets. Just for tonight. It’s just for one night. He thought over and over again, not noticing the faint smile on his own face.

Just for tonight.

After hanging out in the bedroom for a bit, Trophy finally decided to head downstairs to get a quick snack, not being able to hide in his room any longer—since he obviously couldn’t hold off his own hunger. He turned to the kitchen, hoping that no one, specifically Pickle, wasn’t there with him. But his heart suddenly sank as he saw Pickle around the corner, sipping a drink. Pickle glanced over his shoulder at the sound of quiet footsteps, doing a double-take as he saw his own sweater wrapped around Trophy. His expression shifted from one of shock to amusement.

“Trophy, is that my sweater?” He said, raising an eyebrow and not bothering to cover up his own smile. Trophy’s body was frozen as he nervously tugged at the hem. “Nooo…” He blatantly lied, attempting to reach the cabinet above to get whatever was inside while trying to avoid Pickle’s gaze.

“You could’ve just asked, y’know.” He leaned back against the country with a smug look on his face. “But honestly, I don’t mind. You look cute with it.”

Cute. Trophy felt his face burning with embarrassment as he finally grabbed what he was looking for, staring at Pickle for a good moment. Pickle sips the warm drink, not noticing the look on Trophy’s face until he sets his drink aside. Pickle paused for a moment before speaking up again,

“Wait—you’re seriously blushing?” He laughed, Trophy’s face getting warmer at the smug comment.

“God– please just shut up.” Trophy scowled as he shot the other a glare. “Relax, it’s fine. You can keep it on, I don’t mind.” Pickle nudged Trophy’s shoulder, the other just grumbling in response. As quickly as Trophy came in, he left the kitchen with a shade of red spread across his face.

When he finally arrived back into the comfort of his room, he let out a frustrated whine as he shoved his face into the oversized sleeves of the sweater. It was a big mistake going downstairs.

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Word count: 822

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