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He watched him. He didn’t always watch him, because that would be creepy, but he was usually aware of him. Even when he said he wasn’t, he was aware of him. Mac comprised such an important part of his being- hell, he’d made his being. How could Bloo not be aware of him?
That’s what made this so difficult. Time had passed, they’d gotten older, and Bloo had a crush. Crushes made everything excruciating, because Bloo had turned into a freak about it. Everywhere Mac went around Foster’s, Bloo had to know. They already had a bond forged through the time Mac had run away when he was eight, so they could feel each other’s emotions, but Bloo always backed away when Mac got too close to figuring out why Bloo was so jumpy. He didn’t want him to know.
That wasn’t true. He wanted him to know quite badly. He was just terrified of the knowing. Because if the knowing led to rejection, Bloo didn’t know what he’d do with himself.
He tried it in front of a mirror. “Mac, I love you.”
Then he snorted at himself. “Lame. Could you sound anymore like you came out of a soap, Bloo? Yeesh.”
Changing his posture, he put his hands on his hips. Two years ago, Mac had given him a human form so it’d be easier for them to be together in society without people looking askance. Although clothing really sucked, he had to admit it looked good on him. Everything looked good on him. He posed for a moment longer, admiring himself. Fuck, he was hot.
“Bloo, what are you doing?” Mac called from the doorway and Bloo yelped like Mac had caught him masturbating. Mind you, that had happened once already and Mac had gone so red. His creator was such a prude.
“Practicing for when I tell you I love- I mean, admiring myself in the mirror,” Bloo said, hoping he didn’t catch the fib.
“Practicing for when you tell me you love yourself? Yeah, I’ve already heard that a million times before,” he sneered. “If anyone ever did fall in love with you, they’d have to date you and your ego.”
“So? What’s wrong with that?” Bloo said smoothly. “I know loads of people who’d want to date me and my ego.”
“Oh, yeah?” Mac said. He walked closer to the mirror and Bloo’s heart clenched. He could feel the attraction and worried Mac couldn’t. Maybe his creator was somehow immune.
“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Jeez, what’s your problem? You’re in my light.”
Then he looked at Mac for longer than a few seconds. Or, rather, he looked down at what Mac was wearing. He was dressed up in a fancy dress shirt and black slacks.
“Where are we going?” Bloo asked nonchalantly.
“Not you, me,” Mac said. “I have to leave early today.”
“You’re not kidding,” he snorted. “There’s no way we’re doing the mud derby in that outfit.”
“I have a date.”
The words bounced around in Bloo’s skull like his brain had disappeared and left only empty room, endless space to repeat it. Date, date, date. “With who? ‘Cuz I gotta tell you, I did not see anyone in the least bit interesting in your class.”
“She’s not in my class.”
She. Date. Fuck. It’s a ‘she’.
“Mail order bride?” he teased. “Catalogue? Don’t tell me you actually met someone. We both know that’s not going to happen.”
Something Bloo couldn’t read passed over Mac’s face. “Whatever. Do you want to hang out or not?”
“Let me admire myself a few minutes more,” he said and patted Mac’s cheeks. “Mac, baby, you’re beautiful, but you’re in my light.”
“Ugh,” his creator said and walked away. “I knew you were about to say you loved yourself. It’s not like you could ever love anyone else anyway.”
Bloo’s chest was painfully tight as he stared at himself. He could feel the beginnings of tears, but he stubbornly pushed them away. How could Mac think that little of him? True, he usually acted so selfish and didn’t tend to tell people what he really thought of them. But still. This should have been obvious.
Mac was supposed to be the genius kid. How the hell had he not noticed that?
“I love you, Mac,” he whispered to the mirror. His reflection said it back, but not the person he wanted to.