Archive of Our Own ^beta

Unpredictable

What starts out as an average day with the sweet scent of florals and a riveting game of tennis turns sour the instant Bowser steps off the tennis court for a swift chug from his bottled water. He had been invited to play tennis by Princess Peach to make the most of the clear skies spring rarely receives since rain is in abundance this time of year. (According to the princess and the Mario Brothers. The Darklands’ version of spring is quite disparate when compared to the Mushroom Kingdom.)

Not one to travel alone on his visits, he brought along a mismatched pair of children who decided to waste their precious day off from lessons by hanging with their old man. Iggy and Junior were the only willing volunteers to accompany him to his friendly game while the rest preferred to cook up their best excuses or—in Roy’s case—run as fast as he could before Bowser got to ask.

With a refreshing gulp, Bowser relishes in the iciness slithering down his parched throat and the welcoming and immediate chill it brings to his heated scales. All the excursions of this match threw him a curve ball. His muscles took a pleasant beating. His heartbeat continues to thump wildly from all the excitement of victory.

He glances vacantly around the garden, noting the perfectly trimmed hedges and over abundance of yet to bloom pink roses dotting the bushes. The Darklands’ capital doesn’t experience the four seasons as freely as the Mushroom Kingdom. It’s one of the reasons his horde of kids like to visit whenever they’re invited (as long as they don’t have to stick around him to hear his ‘dad jokes.’)

Speaking of his kids, Bowser doesn’t know where his two troublemakers could be, but he hopes they’re at least trying to behave without starting fires or fights. Iggy is probably pestering the Toad girl (her name escapes Bowser’s mind at the moment) with his sarcasm. Speaking from experience, Bowser feels for the poor girl, but she seems to put up with Iggy's morbid jokes despite her exasperated groans.

If Bowser had to gamble on his youngest son’s current location, he’d guess the kitchen. Junior, always on the hunt for sugary sweets when Papa’s preoccupied, is most likely bribing the chefs into making him anything that could rot his teeth right out of his skull with that cute and very persuasive smile of his. He hopes the chefs here are as stubborn as his personal chefs at home or Junior will have to make another emergency trip to the dentist.

Bowser sets down his bottle, dabbing at the perspiration gathering between his bushy brows with a towel provided by one of the Toad servants making his rounds to cater to the recovering tennis players. Near the net, Mario and Peach animatedly converse amongst each other, both flushing red from the heat and reasons that make Bowser experience a churning in his stomach he long thought disappeared. He looks away before his brain starts to find reasoning behind it.

Instead, he takes a page from Kamek’s book on ‘How to be Old’ and listens to the sounds spring lavishes the Mushroom Kingdom with. Experiencing serenity for once in his hectic life, he sits on one of the many benches in the princess’ garden situated under an arch of roses.

Part of him wishes for the chirps and chitters of songbirds to grace his ears when he’s at home while another part of him is happy he’s able to sleep in till seven without any interruptions. Well, besides the occasional kid needing something from him or pulling a prank on him.

Bowser supposes Ludwig’s piano does the job enough for him and he isn’t usually the type of Koopa to sit back and appreciate nature. Really, who cares about the birds anyways? Now that he thinks about it, constantly being subjected to this chirping would drive him to insanity. Bah, Bowser decides right then and there that he prefers his castle's lack of wildlife—besides the occasional barking and yips of an excitable Chain Chomp coming from Iggy’s room.

Bowser’s detached gaze wanders aimlessly until it settles on someone who recently manages to always catch his attention. His tennis partner this match is off on the sidelines on a folded chair, kneading at the tension of his swinging arm before he takes a sip of his own drink.

With a slouching posture, Luigi sets down his bottle beside him on the ground and pops off his visor, running a hand across his forehead. His hair is a mess, sticking in all directions, slicked back by a combination of sweat and whatever hair products he uses. It smells sweet yet woodsy.

The slightest breeze wafts the scent in Bowser’s direction causing his stomach to flip-flop. He pointedly disregards the pine aroma tickling his nostrils. Ignoring it, though, is futile when his sense of smell is so sensitive to its surroundings. It causes his brain to scramble, tripping over itself to latch onto the mutinous feelings it brings him.

Bowser knows what this might be. He’s all too familiar with the stupid flutters of his heart, but this can’t happen. Not again. Not after the disastrous obsession with Princess Peach left his family broken and his shattered heart lonely.

He’s still bandaging up relationships with the Mushroom Kingdom. He’s still trying to mend the trust issues between him and Iggy since the kid is convinced they’ll be discarded and forgotten again when Bowser inevitably relapses and returns to his old ways. Bowser cannot let the kid be right about this. He’s brought enough problems into their lives; he needs to persevere here.

It’s better to remain in denial. To deny and bury any damn mushy feeling that slips past his heavily fortified barricades. Besides, maybe it’s simply the overwhelming feelings of spring smothering his senses? Perhaps it’s amplifying this… er… crush?

Wait.

No, no, it’s definitely not that. He grips painfully at his mane, gritting his teeth. No way in hell is it that extreme. Logic, he needs to think logically about this (or find better excuses) before he jumps into these types of conclusions.

Bowser admits he’s not an emotional guy, but he is a huge hopeless romantic and these nectarous stenches are doing things to him. Yeah, that’s it! He doesn’t like Luigi at all, it’s the spring season making him see everything with rose-tinted lenses. There is nothing there. Absolutely nothing.

“Good game, Bowser!” Luigi calls out to him. Oh, how cruel can life be? Immediately, Bowser is snapped out of his thoughts, once again his attention is unwillingly pulled towards Luigi like an unseen magnetic force.

He’s met with Luigi’s patented timid smile on his face and a thumbs up. The miniscule grin is barely visible below his bushy mustache, but Bowser knows it’s there and that it exists because he’s had the rare opportunity to witness it up close. It’s been aimed at him twice today—not that he’s been keeping tabs.

He manages to toss back his own pathetic excuse of a grin before he sighs, pretending to rub at his eyes in the hopes it’ll help rub away the heat collecting on his muzzle. One simple gesture and his heartbeat picks back up, beating against his ribcage.

Am I dying? I gotta be dying.

None the wiser to his dilemma, the princess approaches him with Mario hovering behind her asking if he’s interested in another match with different pairs. Bowser declines the offer. His excuse flows from his mouth naturally since he’s used it as often as he breathes fire: he has to find out where his kids are.

Although, he’s in no rush to get up just yet. Somewhat convinced he’s indeed about to pass on, he waits. He expects his heart to explode any minute now from the slightest movement putting an end to his short reign.

Subconsciously, Bowser’s gaze once again snaps back to Luigi. With a quirk of his lips, Bowser watches Mario tackle him in a sweaty and probably disgustingly salt-scented half hug. They pass lighthearted jeers back and forth like a game before Luigi shoves his brother, scowling and shaking his head with a fondness twinkling in his blue eyes.

Bowser realizes too late that he’s basically ogling and it’s not helping his jumpy heart. He needs to get out of here for a bit and clear his damn head. Groaning, he stands up and every bone in his body cracks their symphonies of relief. He figures he may as well stick to some semblance of the truth and try to find his two kids.

Bowser sets off leaving behind the sounds of laughter. With Luigi out of sight, his heart returns to a more normal rhythm only to spike back up again when he can’t seem to find his kids. A pit of chilling fear grows in his stomach the longer his searching brings up nothing.

Luckily, before his fatherly anxiety kills him, he manages to find Junior playing a video game with a blue Toad. Seeing one of his sons alive and well should bring him some sort of relief, but it does the exact opposite. Junior isn’t the child he’s worried about. When Junior impassively states he hasn’t seen Iggy since they got here with a shrug, Bowser picks up the pace.

Antsy and sweating buckets, Bowser storms through empty corridors only to backtrack when he meets a dead end. He briskly travels down familiar hallways, nearly knocking into shrieking Toads. Was Princess Peach’s castle always this difficult to navigate? No wonder he just bursted through the closest wall. Unfortunately, the princess might not appreciate him punching his way through walls.

He can’t deny leaving Iggy out on his own without any sort of supervision is like letting out your cat to face the great outdoors. There’s a fear that lingers in the back of your mind while you watch the little feline trounce around the grass that either the cat comes back with battle scars or it never comes back at all.

It’s why Bowser never allows Iggy’s Chain Chomp, Priscilla, to be outside without a babysitter or a leash. Their family pet is too valuable to lose. Maybe he should extend that rule to her owner as well—leash and everything.

Where the hell is this kid?!

Eventually, with the help of a Toad who looks ready to pee in his pants at the sight of the King of the Koopas casually toddling through the castle, he finds Iggy hidden in one of the many small gardens the princess has laid out throughout the castle.

The Koopaling impassively examines a small selection of—er… Bowser isn’t good with fauna—unnamed plants with white little blooms. Unsurprisingly, he’s not alone as the Toad girl (what is her name? Pinky? He really ought to get better with names) tends to the soil with dirty hands. She sounds like she’s in the middle of brutal scolding which explains the despondency on Iggy’s face.

The Toad girl—Toadette, yes, that’s it!—spots Bowser first out of the corner of her eyes. She cracks a mischievous smile, returning to her gardening like she hadn’t spotted him at all. Is she giving Bowser the rare opportunity to—he grins coyly. He won’t waste this gracious gift from her.

He brings a fist to his mouth then inhales deeply yet quietly. Iggy jumps out of his scales with a frightened yip when Bowser loudly and purposely clears his throat.

Pivoting his head so fast Bowser is surprised it doesn’t snap right off, Iggy stares up at Bowser like he’s guilty of something. It passes as quickly as it came. His faithful nonchalance returns to his features. He stands erect, not anywhere near as tall as Bowser despite his growth spurt, and stretches his muscles with a bored yawn.

He casts Bowser a curious look out of the corner of his eyes. There’s clearly a question he wants to voice on the tip of his sharp tongue but he doesn’t get to ask because he’s attacked by yet another drawn out yawn.

“Hey, Bowser,” Iggy dusts his claws off by rubbing them together. He places his hands on his hips. “Did you get your ass kicked?”

Toadette snickers at his bluntness, sucking in the bottom of her mouth to stifle them. Playful but annoyed by his potty mouth, Bowser snorts out a cloud of soot, blowing it in his direction. Iggy’s hair wavers slightly from the hot breeze, but he doesn’t flinch.

Bowser smirks victoriously. “Actually, Luigi and I did the ass kicking, kid. Mario and the princess didn’t know what hit them.”

Toadette lets out another tiny giggle then hops to her feet. “I should probably go, I have to glance over some old scrolls for Captain Toad before he leaves tomorrow.”

She mimics Iggy and cleans off the soil stuck to her palms by furiously rubbing them together before she politely says her goodbyes. The displeased scowl on Iggy’s face as she disappears is obvious, his annoyance palpable, but Bowser doesn’t bring it to attention to spare the kid’s ego.

It’s nice to see Iggy get along with others. Truthfully, Iggy is severely unapproachable and he makes it his personal mission to keep it that way. At least Bowser isn’t the only one making nice with their enemies.

Iggy eventually diverts his attention to Bowser. “So, you and Luigi were partners again?” he randomly asks, rocking on his heels. “Who’s idea was that?”

What a weird question.

“We mutually agreed to be partners.” Skeptical, Bowser cocks a bushy eyebrow, craning his neck to look down at the kid.

“But who tossed the idea out first?”

Okay, what’s the kid’s angle here? Bowser fiercely studies him like a language he doesn’t understand. He hopes the kid’s airtight defenses will slip up. Of course, Iggy gives him absolutely nothing, further amplifying Bowser’s building confusion.

“Mine,” Bowser answers laconically. Why does it feel like he’s suddenly in a field full of landmines and he’s seconds away from losing a limb?

“Interesting,” Iggy muses, smearing dirt onto his face when he brings a claw to his cheek. His fangs peek from under his lips when they quirk deliberately at the corners.

Bowser taps his foot against the ground growing impatient. What is this? An interrogation? “What are you getting at here, Iggy?”

Bemused, Iggy steps forward. “You have a soft spot for him.” He pokes Bowser straight in the chest where his heart is. “Admit it. The dopey, heart eyes are disgusting to witness.”

“You’re disgusting,” Bowser blurts out thoughtlessly. He doesn’t even get the chance to properly digest how immature his retort is until he feels a tinge of embarrassment.

The Koopaling gasps happily at the uncreative insult before bursting into a frenzy of wall-shattering cackles. They bounce all around the secret garden corridor and pierce Bowser directly into his eardrums. He tries not to flush from shame. Usually he’s more prepared for their name calling games than this.

Iggy leans in, hips swaying back and forth, simultaneously mirroring the pace of his now wagging tail. “Wow, you have it so bad and you don’t even realize it!”

Bowser snarls, gray ash seeping through his mouth in dizzying patterns. Iggy’s smugness never wavers from any fear or signs of guilt he should be bombarded with if he were, say, normal with basic emotions. Most living creatures would be terrified of a giant, eight foot Draconic Koopa glaring viciously at you. Smarmy brat.

“As if I can’t say the same for you and the Toad girl,” Bowser growls out, voice guttural yet mocking.

Iggy rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, unaffected by the purposeful taunting. “That’s not the same.” He snickers lightly at the absurdity. “She’s more like—“ he dramatically pauses to ponder, but Bowser knows Iggy’s thoughts aren’t so sluggishly brought forth.

His brain rapidly fires off ideas and words like whirring Bullet Bills. He just enjoys causing his prey to squirm with anticipation, and Bowser knowingly doesn’t fall into the trap he’s laid out for him.

Finally, with a melodic hum Ludwig would be proud of to grace his musically inclined earholes, Iggy smirks. “She’s more similar to how a scientist views a lab rat. I like to study her and her species' strange behaviors up close. Toads are more complex than I initially thought.”

Ah, that’s unsettling. Bowser pulls what he assumes is probably quite a complex expression riddled with exasperation, concern, and maybe a bit of terror. They’ve had this talk before about Iggy’s seemingly ambiguous morals, but the kid really loves upselling the creepy and farcical scientist act to the point Bowser isn’t sure when he’s joking or not.

“No experiments on our allies, Iggy. You promised,” Bowser warns, casting the eccentric teenager a threatening glare in case. He needs to remain vigilant. He has to cover all possible grounds with this kid because one unpaved section gives Iggy the opportunity to worm his way around and find the perfect loophole.

Thankfully, instead of mischievous giggles or misleading shrugs and tactful words, Iggy raises a claw defensively. Though a smile that makes Bowser wary remains plastered on his gleeful face.

“And I haven’t broken that promise. You and Kamek told us we gotta attempt to get along with our new—“ Iggy stirs his hand as he looks to the sky like the word he’s looking for is floating amongst the clouds—“friends. I just have chosen to take advantage of the opportunity to study them.”

Bowser shakes his head. “Don’t do anything to break the treaty. You don’t know how hard it was for them to agree to anything,” he grumbles, recalling the arduous task.

He may as well have groveled at the princess’ feet when he suggested (begged) for their kingdoms to make amends. Two years ago, he finally let go of the forced marriage ploy and decided his son’s life and the Koopalings’ futures mattered more than continuing this stupid charade. Princess Peach was, unsurprisingly, reluctant to believe his excuses.

Subsequently, she summoned the Mario Brothers for constructive input on the matter. Though her hidden agenda was most likely for an extra barrier of protection against Bowser if he were to resume his kidnapping spree. A fight nearly broke out when they first arrived, though the princess was quick to stop it before it began.

When she relayed everything to them, Mario scoffed at the very idea, dissuaded by every word Bowser said. It disgusted Bowser to reluctantly propitiate his greatest enemy. It would have been much harder if Kamek hadn’t spent all night hyping him up to reach this point where he didn’t feel like setting the castle on fire as he basically tossed his well-earned pride out the window.

Eventually, the hero finally cracked, allowing Bowser the possibility of redemption. It almost felt as if Mario was waiting until Bowser suffered enough before he laughed heartily, punching him straight in the arm like they were never enemies. It maybe, sorta, warmed Bowser’s heart a bit to see Mario offer him some semblance of a truce.

Luigi—well, he remained impassive during the whole ordeal, throwing a few impressive glares Bowser’s way whenever Bowser mentioned his children, specifically Lemmy. He knows Luigi has a soft spot for the little guy, but everyone has a soft spot for Lemmy—including Princess Daisy and the all too closed book that is Rosalina.

Iggy loudly clears his throat, interrupting Bowser’s wandering thoughts hoping to escape this conversation. “Of course I know how hard you had to grovel, King Dad, but let’s not change subjects, hm?”

Without warning, Iggy jumps towards him. Bowser instinctively catches his kid before he faceplants or hurts himself. The Koopaling’s face is suddenly drowning in his peripheral, crazed eyes gleaming with mirth as he holds onto his horns like a bicycle’s handlebars.

Iggy’s smile is as wicked as his bulging eyes. “Just admit to me that my hypothesis is right and that Wendy owes me forty coins.”

Bowser narrows his own to distrusting slits. He unceremoniously drops the kid to gain back some personal space. “I’ll give you forty coins to shut up,” he offers.

Iggy barely stumbles or loses his footing as he lands on his feet like a feline. He hooks a finger under his chin, deeply contemplating his options. “Hm… as much as I love being right, if you triple the offer and add in a month's worth of materials for my workshop then I’ll drop it.”

Bribing his own son? Is this really where this is leading him? One glance down at Iggy happily wagging his tail back and forth, eyes sparkling with determination, Bowser can tell the kid is prepared to never relent until he’s proven factual on this matter. He does love being right almost as much as Kamek.

Either Bowser meets his demands head on or he suffers for the rest of his life, denying any allegations brought forth that involve him having a tiny crush on a Mario Brother. Which he doesn’t. He definitely doesn’t, but Iggy is unrelenting here. Is the outside air always this stifling during spring?

Bowser groans, rubbing at the tension building behind his eyes. Dammit. There’s only one logical option here and that option disproves Bowser’s insistence that there’s nothing between him and the green Mario Brother. He’s practically jumping through hoops to prove the kid wrong, but here is the Great Koopa King planning to, essentially, wave a white flag to a war that feels entirely one-sided.

Still, he can’t live with Iggy’s constant prodding in his nonexistent love life. Especially if he ever plans to pursue a love life after the kidnapping ordeal ate up years of his limited time on this planet. Though, Draconic Koopas do live to be three-hundred years old so it’s not like he’s going to die anytime soon.

“Fine.” Bowser sighs heavily, dragging a claw down his face. He feels drained. “Fine, you win. Keep this conversation between us, got it?”

Iggy salutes. “No problem, I’ll keep your not-at-all-a-secret secret crush on Luigi to myself. Although, I gotta warn you.” He steps in really close, once again invading Bowser’s personal bubble. He shifts sneaky glances left and right before he whispers, “I wasn’t the first one to notice, someone else brought it to my attention. I couldn’t help but pick up on all the hints afterwards.”

Who?

Kamek isn’t one to gossip about him or anyone for that matter. He keeps to himself most days of the week when he isn’t following Bowser around barking about kingdom issues or nagging about Bowser’s lack of manners. The mage avoids petty interactions amongst the servants and soldiers and openly scolds Wendy and Larry for spreading rumors, deeming it ‘uncouth behavior.’

Then… who does that really leave? Bowser knows his soldiers aren’t stupid enough to risk being barbecued to a crisp to toss around some juicy gossip. Besides, his subtle interactions with Luigi are practically nonexistent unless someone was really paying attention to every move he made around him. Wait—there are no warm gestures shared between them! What is he thinking?!

Although, someone has claimed to see something between them. Reasonably, he concludes it has to be someone who knows all of his ticks, an artisan of reading his facial expressions and a savant with interpreting his purposeful yet miniscule movements. Not that he’s been doing anything of the sort!

“Lemmy,” he breathes out.

Iggy’s exuberant chuckles are Bowser’s confirmation.

Bowser bids the Princess and the Mario Brothers farewell, ignoring Iggy’s smug looks and giggles when Luigi personally steps forward to say goodbye. Junior understandably sends his older brother many concerned looks the more riled up Iggy gets before Bowser drags a laughing Iggy onto the airship by his spiked collar.

On their voyage back to the Darklands, Bowser makes a mental checklist on what to do when he gets home. His first task is to find that little demon and set him straight before he gets some grub followed by a hot shower.

Resolute on accomplishing his to-do list, Bowser gets an unexpected whiff of his gross musky scent poisoning the whirling wind around him on the deck. He recoils sharply, plugging his nose, searching for the source only to realize it’s him. Scratch that, he needs to edit the order of his list. His first task is a nice shower then food then deal with Lemmy.

After checking off the first two tasks, he sets off to achieve his last goal. Although, finding Lemmy is more difficult than he thought it’d be. Bowser admits his castle is a gigantic labyrinth of hallways, dead ends, and, Larry and Lemmy’s favorite, secret passageways and crevices. Who knows where Lemmy could be?

Thankfully, he’s spared the tedious game of one-sided hide-n-seek when Morton and Larry spill the details on Lemmy’s whereabouts. He’s practicing in the training yard by himself for his upcoming performance.

Bowser blames his hectic state for not deducing Lemmy’s location sooner because he’s invited to said performance. He really should be more on top of his schedule, but then Kamek would be right and he doesn’t want more points added to the mage’s column. He can’t risk inflating the mage’s ego anymore.

Lemmy is right where his brothers said he’d be balancing on his ball, trying out a few tricks. Lucky for Bowser, the small Koopa is completely alone outside. Not one soldier or servant is in sight to witness or overhear this extremely personal and demeaning conversation. Good.

He approaches the Koopaling with loud steps, signaling his approach without voicing it. Lemmy swerves on his heels accordingly, facing him directly. The beaming smile he sends towards Bowser gives him a rush of the fuzzies. Unconsciously, he grins back, mirroring the sentiment. He momentarily forgets he should look angry. Hoping to rectify his slip up, he trades in his grin for stoicism.

When he’s right in front of Lemmy, he pointedly frowns, folding his arms crossly against his plastron. “Lemmy, we gotta talk. Now.”

“Hiya, Bowser! Welcome back!” Lemmy tosses Bowser an animated wave before flipping right off his ball. He lands cleanly on his feet like it’s as simple as breathing or walking, arms expanded like he expects applause. Bowser sets aside his woes to give the kid a few encouraging claps before he jumps to the point.

His glare is the textbook example of intimidating as he begins. “Your brother has informed me that you’ve been spreading lies about me behind my back.”

Lemmy simply blinks, slightly tilting his head. “What kind of lies, King Dad?”

His shrill voice cracks, wavering between pitches due to puberty’s hold on his vocal cords. It’s endearing, very cute. Darn. Bowser momentarily falters, stumbling head first into a mental wall of remorse. He smacks right into it and his Strict Dad persona melts away.

He clears his throat awkwardly, his fire spent because how dare he have the audacity to yell at this innocent child who could do know wrong! If only that were true. Lemmy is one of the snottiest nosed brats to ever live when he’s scheming or feeling a wave of teenage rebellion coursing through that tiny body of his.

Though he’s too damn adorable and sickly sweet to stay mad at for long so the process repeats itself indefinitely. It starts with Bowser always falling for his schemes because—what if this is the one time Lemmy is genuine?

Predictably, he gets furious after he finds himself tricked and sternly lectures Lemmy for pulling yet another prank on him. Afterwards, Bowser’s ire is doused by guilt at the heartbreaking sight of Lemmy’s grief stricken face. Unable to resist, Bowser eventually submits and takes Lemmy out for ice cream as an apology then repeats the process next week. It’s honestly pretty sad how tightly Lemmy has him wrapped around his finger.

Bowser discreetly checks for any signs of other life forms in the vicinity before he leans down, voice muted yet harsh. “Iggy said you implied I have a soft spot for Luigi.”

“You do,” Lemmy unabashedly responds. It feels like he’s bashed Bowser in the head with every syllable he’s spoken because he takes a giant step back as if struck by their force. The distance doesn't lessen the critical blows his psyche takes.

“I—I don’t,” Bowser sputters like an engine unable to start up. He denies the feeling of heat blooming across his face, contradicting his words. “How could I? He was once our enemy and he’s a coward. I can’t stand blundering morons without backbones.”

Lemmy sends him a dry look that’s as coarse as sandpaper. “Is this what you tell yourself when you lay in bed at night?”

Bowser stiffens, jolting upright to stand completely rigid. How does Lemmy know about his mental conversations/debates he has before passing out from exhaustion? Many of those arguments have recently involved this flutter in his chest whenever Luigi offers him a smile and a nonchalant shrug when they catch eyes.

Lemmy snorts, shaking his head. “It’s okay, y’know. He’s a good person.” The Koopaling smiles fondly. “You’ve always been attracted to kind hearted people, King Dad.” He counts them off with his claws. “Like Princess Peach, Starlow—before you found out she was a floating ball—or that brief crush you had on Rosalina, or that one cashier at the grocery store who—”

“I get it,” Bowser growls, feeling very attacked by his own child at this moment in time. Smoke seeps into the air, wafting in threatening swirls as his nostrils flare up.

Lemmy shrugs his shoulders. Are any of his kids intimidated by his sneers when he’s aggravated? “It’s not surprising you gravitated towards someone like Luigi. He’s a nice and forgiving guy.”

Bowser audibly groans when Lemmy makes a valid point there. Is he doomed to feel soft for anyone who offers him a smile of gratitude or treats him like an equal? Apparently so. But he doesn’t like Luigi, at all. He barely withstands hanging around Mario; why would he subject himself to spending more time with his lesser half?

“Lemmy, there’s nothing there,” Bowser says firmly. “There’s no feelings at all. Except maybe annoyance.”

Lemmy crosses his arms unamused and not impressed. He looks like a bored audience member forced to sit through a terrible movie. “I think I’m a bit old for a game of pretend, Bowser.”

”Lemmy.”

“Bowser.”

Bowser throws up his hands. “You kids and your damn ideas! You’re gonna drive me crazy!”

Lemmy snorts out a laugh before his smug deposition softens to something akin to sympathy. “Listen, I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

Bowser narrows his eyes. “You told Iggy,” he hisses viciously.

Lemmy rolls his eyes in return. “He won’t tell anyone.” He places a hand solemnly on his little chest. Bowser spots a bandage wrapped tightly around his palm. Before he can inquire with Lemmy where he sustained such an injury, Lemmy says: “We made a blood oath.”

Wait, what? That’s concerning and explains the bandage. That’s actually very concerning. Is that what teenagers do these days? Dabble in necromancy, sacrificial rituals, and forbidden spells? No, wait, this is distracting Bowser from his current objective. He shoves that into the back of his mind, dropping it into his already compacted mental filing cabinet to deal with at a later date.

“He told me he made a bet with—“ Bowser stops short before he makes a bigger fool of himself. The force of realization slaps him upside the head.

There was never any bet. Iggy never told Wendy anything. The kid saw the chance to gain some leverage over Bowser and took it. Dammit. Bowser really jumped head first into conclusions before remembering how important keeping promises are for Iggy. Consistency isn’t usually Iggy’s thing, but promises and secrets are best kept with him—unless you tick him off then it becomes blackmail instead.

Crestfallen and feeling more defeated than all the times Mario kicked his ass, Bowser drags his feet to the bench on the sidelines where spectators are free to watch his troops practice or spar. He lets out a loaded sigh of defeat, his head low and face buried behind his claws. Is he losing his touch? Is he getting too old? He should have seen Iggy’s trickery coming from miles away.

He hears Lemmy approach. His tiny claws kicking up dirt and pebbles. The bench creaks out warnings as Lemmy adds his weight onto an already over encumbered bench. Bowser feels a splotch of warmth on his beefy arm. He recognizes it as Lemmy’s little claw.

“Y’know, there’s nothing wrong with having a little crush on someone. Love is kinda unpredictable, right?” Lemmy says, a bit uncertain. Obviously he’s inexperienced in this department. “As long as you don’t kidnap them,” he adds on.

The child laughs lightly at his own quip. Unamused, Bowser peers from behind his scaly shield of fingers to glare at the little Koopaling. Lemmy smiles back, pumping his feet dangling off the bench.

“Lemmy there isn’t anything there,” Bowser fumes. “You’re reading too much into things.”

Clearly unconvinced, Lemmy pats his arm a few times. “I know you’re probably afraid you’ll repeat the kidnapping cycle again, but you’ve changed for the better over these past two years, King Dad. We all have. Even Luigi sees it. He thinks of you as a friend now.”

Bowser perks up at this, slowly dropping his hands to his lap. “He does?”

“I thought you said you didn’t care?” Lemmy giggles, exasperatedly rolling his eyes when Bowser snarls in response to his teasing. “Anyways, I’ll see you later.” He scoots off the bench, somehow managing to even make that look theatrical in nature. He offers Bowser a little wink as a goodbye gesture. “Just know you’re wasting a lot of energy living in denial.”

When Princess Peach invites him and his family to a small gathering, Bowser tries not to think about what his kids said a week ago. He doesn’t have a crush on anyone and he’s not in denial. He locked that part of his heart away two years ago to avoid another possible fall into obsession.

Yet, he makes sure he looks presentable for Luig—uh, no one but himself. He brushes his teeth until his toothbrush looks like it’s been through countless wars and his aching gums beg for reprieve. He runs a comb through his mane to detangle any possible knots and even spritzes on some cologne because he can. It’s definitely not for anyone in particular. Nope.

When Kamek catches a whiff of his expensive cologne complimented by his cleanliness, he sends Bowser a concoction of a look. Puzzled yet curious, the mage opens his mouth most likely to ask before Bowser’s warning glowering persuades the mage to drop the issue for now.

Of course Mario is there at the get together. The two of them share a few stinging jabs, but nothing too inflicting to carry any lasting resentment. Luigi is nowhere in sight, but Bowser decides he doesn’t really care. Not at all. His slumped shoulders aren’t from feeling a wave of disappointment.

His disheartened mood shifts the instant Luigi emerges from the castle carrying a plate of appetizers with his happy ghost dog on his heels. He’s dressed in casual clothing, the sleeves of his flannel rolled up to expose hints of muscles on his arms which pull tantalizingly tight as he carries the loaded tray with ease.

Huh, Bowser always believed Luigi was too lanky to have anything of the sort. Now that he thinks about it without any prejudices towards plumbers, Luigi has higher than average jumps. He must have quite an impressive set of leg muscles too. How had Bowser not noticed his built physique during their tennis match last week? No wonder they kicked ass.

Whoa, wait a second.

As Bowser attempts to reel his mind back from straying further into forbidden waters, the chair next to his scrapes across the cobblestone. He looks next to him, expecting Junior or Ludwig, only to be caught off guard by the company.

He briefly wonders if the universe is toying with him when Luigi plants himself right between Bowser and Lemmy. Lemmy and Luigi exchange friendly greetings and inside jokes before Luigi’s attention shifts towards Bowser. His blue eyes flitter upward to his face and the man grins almost shyly, cheeks flushed from over exerting himself.

“It’s nice to see you again, tennis partner,” Luigi says with a tinge of playfulness in his tone.

Bowser’s eyes grow wider than the plates on the table before he turns away to hide his embarrassment. His heart constricts violently, his face gains more heat than necessary, and he tugs on his choker suddenly feeling suffocated by it. The simple gesture leaves him an absolute wreck.

Bowser hears the familiar cackling of Iggy from across the table intermingling with Lemmy’s quiet snickers. They’re both clearly enjoying the show.

Oh no. Dammit. They’re right.

Bowser has it bad.