Hey, guys! ^_^ Another story from me. I've had this one floating around for a while and I just needed to write it down. :) I've always wanted to write a 9x6 story. :D And this is my first one. *squeals*

Granted, this was also my first time trying to capture 6's personality. I tried so hard to make him believable, in character. I hope I did alright.

Oh and, the summary was thought up by my friend, you know her, you love her; darkgirl11. *claps hands* XD Enjoy this cute 9x6 fic! 8D


9 laid on his side in bed, drifting in and out of consciousness. Most nights weren't spent like this, struggling to fall asleep. He sometimes went to sleep rather quickly, but tonight was one of those sleepless nights. Sometimes he would get up and wander through the courtyard to get tired, but 9 didn't feel the desire to walk around. He was going to lay here, awake, hoping sleep would sink in.

"9?," said a voice.

9 rolled over on his left side and spotted 6 standing under the doorway. The striped stitchpunk grabbed at his key worriedly. The zippered stitchpunk knew the drill and let a smile cross his lips.

"Nightmare again, 6?," he asked.

"Mhmm," muttered 6, fiddling with his key.

Shaking his head, 9 smiled and said, "Come on." He lifted the blanket for 6 to get in. Before he could get in bed, 6 had to remove his key as it bothered 9 when he tried to sleep. He took his key off and hung it on a nail that 9 hammered in the other night. With his key hung in its place, 6 climbed into bed and 9 covered the blanket over him. 6 laid on his right side facing 9 while the latter laid on his back.

"Comfy?," uttered 9.

"...Y-Yes," replied 6, nodding.

"Mmkay."

9's optics closed. Soon he didn't make a sound, or rustle the sheets, and he was fast asleep. 6 gazed at him in silent admiration. He scooted a little closer and rested his head close to the other stitchpunk's. Nuzzling his shoulder, 6 breathed in all of 9's scent. The artist would never admit it, but he came here not because of nightmares, but because of 9 specifically. No one else knew this but 6 was secretly in love with 9. The striped artist didn't tell anyone, save for 5, who knew his secret. To this day, he hasn't told 9 how he feels. Lying to sleep next to him was starting to feel wrong to 6.

6 didn't know how to tell the savior how he felt. He was afraid that 9 would not share his feelings. The artist thought about this before, but always went back to planning on telling 9. He'd been putting it off for weeks now since he and the others resurrected. It was a few days after he woke up in his body at the bottom of the ravine. Then, when he was rescued, he was surprised to see it was 9 who came to his aid. From that moment on, 6 felt his soul longing to be loved by 9. If 9 does end returning his feelings, then 6 would be the happiest stitchpunk alive. What a dream that would be.

The striped artist laid there, gazing at 9. His own optics were beginning to close and before he knew it, he was fast asleep. 6's hand gently clung to 9's arm.


6 sat on a hardcover book, fiddling with his key. The sun peeked through the many windows of the library. Another night had gone for him and he still didn't feel the courage to confess to 9. He wondered if it was going to be like this forever. 6 staying quiet while 9 possibly fell for another. The thought of that startled 6, and it motivated him to tell 9. Over and over again 6 always circulated in this cycle. Tell him, or leave? Tell him, or leave? If he told 9, he would feel better. If 9 tells him that he doesn't feel the same way, then 6 would accept it and move on. He couldn't stand the thought of being rejected. 6 would rather be dead than have 9 tell him he doesn't love him.

Footsteps sounded. 6 turned his head to see 5 emerged from behind a broken marble column. The one-eyed stitchpunk spotted 6 and sat down with him.

"Hey 6," said 5.

"H-H-Hey," answered 6.

5 observed him curiously. It didn't take a long time for him to get the answer. "You still having trouble telling him?," he asked. 6 visibly winced. He grabbed at his key for security.

"I'm...I'm afraid he won't...love me back," said 6, optics looking in both directions to avoid looking 5 in the optic. 5 smiled gently as 6 uttered his next question. "How d-did...you know... y-you were in...love with...2?"

"Ah, well, there's no one concrete answer to that," replied 5, his smile never fading. The artist looked at him, brow furrowed. 5 saw his confusion and continued. "I knew I was in love with him after I got my eyepatch." He saw that this grabbed 6's attention, so he went on. "After that moment, that's when I knew he was the one I wanted to be with. Someone I can count on, rely on and feel safe around. That's when I knew." 5 paused. "When he went out to scout that day I wondered how I should tell him. And when 9 and I went to rescue him, I planned on telling him on the way home, but..." 6 knew he didn't need 5 to tell him the next part. But the one-eyed stitchpunk continued speaking.

"When we came back to life," said 5, "I felt like I had a second chance. Another chance to tell him. So I told him last week when everyone was asleep." He smiled fondly. "I took him to my room," he began, "and told him." He faced 6, the latter also looked at him. "I...I thought he wasn't going to reciprocate my love, but I was surprised when he told me he was in love with me too."

6 looked at him with wide optics, his smile growing wider.

"We kissed after that," said 5, smiling. He let out a chuckle. "I don't know which one of us was more worried about confessing. We were both pretty nervous. But, well, he and I are happy together. We couldn't possibly ask for anything more."

6 smiled. Hearing this lightened him up. It made him want to tell 9 his feelings. As he looked down the floor, he thought about how 5 had the courage to confess to 2. He'd seen him and the inventor together in the last few days. Laughing, holding hands, sharing a kiss. 6 wished he could be like that with 9. If only he could...

"What do you think?," queried 5. "Are you going to tell 9?"

This question took a lot of thinking. 6 had been rehearsing his confession for several weeks but always ended up discouraged. He didn't know how to answer, or if his answer would be convincing. He needed to try.

"I...," uttered 6. "I'm...I'm going to tell him."

5 blinked. "Wha... Really?"

"Yes," replied 6. The artist didn't even stutter, which surprised 5 more than hearing that 6 was going to confess his feelings to 9. "I'm...going to...t-tell him...tonight."

"I... Wow," said 5, taken aback. "I'm... I'm impressed." He smiled. "I'm proud of you, 6. This is a big step towards a mile journey."

6 cocked his head, still feeling the nerves taking over. But with 5's support, he felt braver.

"Once you tell him, I can guarantee you'll feel better," said 5. He patted him on the back. "I know it."

"Th-thanks, 5," retorted 6, his optics glancing at the floor. He looked up at the one-eyed stitchpunk. "Um...h-h-how are 1...and 7...doing?"

"Fine, just fine," replied 5.

"How is...7?," asked 6 innocently.

"Oh, she's alright," answered 5. "Having a baby is no easy job. She actually can't wait until its born."

6 darted his optics around before responding. "T-Tell them I...wish them...t-the b-b-best."

"I will, 6." 5 said, smiling.


6 paced around his room, pen-nib hands gripped around his key. His room was filled with miscellaneous drawings of his. Without "the source" to haunt him, he could now think freely and move on. Though it seemed some things still plagued him. Confessing being one of them. The artist swiveled his head, gazing up at the ceiling to the new bottle of ink he was given.

5 and 2 were together. 1 and 7 were expecting a newborn. He didn't know when their baby would be born, just that the two were excited to be bringing a new life into the world. He was happy for them and they in turn acknowledged his gratitude. 6 also noticed 8 pining for 4; he saw the guard send the hooded stitchpunk a flirtatious comment on his way outside. 6 was happy for them as well, seeing how one or the other will confess. Now he just needed to be honest with himself.

The night had drawn closer than 6 expected. He wondered if 9 was asleep or not. Maybe he was still awake. If he was, he could tell him how he feels at long last. But if he wasn't, what should he do? Wake him and say he had another nightmare? That excuse was beginning to get repetitive. 6 sat on his makeshift bed. He had stopped sleeping on the floor and began to take to the idea of sleeping on a bed. His optics scanned the drawings plastered on the wall. All of them being things he'd imaged in his head, mostly surreal sketches. A far cry from the drawings of the talisman he used to paint on and on. That was in the past, this was now.

Knowing that time would slip by, 6 stood up and walked toward the doorway. Lifting the curtain aside, he peered both ways. The library was dark, not a lit candle aflame. With his plan on hand, 6 quietly walked down the corridor. He made sure not to make any noise, dreading the possibility of waking someone up. Mountains of books barred his path, but luckily he could maneuver his way without falling or making any noise. Taking a breath, he ambled down the left.

9's room was on the other end of the building in the west. Contemplating whether he was awake or not was besides the point. 6 saw the doorway to 9's room and braced himself. He stood underneath the doorway and looked on.

To his surprise, 9 was not asleep but sitting on the bed, his back to 6. Quizzical, 6 stepped inside, wondering whether he should've announced himself first. But the zippered male seemed to feel he was there and turned to face 6.

"Hey, 6," said 9 with a small smile. "I was about to check on you."

"Really?" 6 looked around 9's room. Unlike 6's, 9's room consisted of the typical things he's expected: the lightstaff leaned against the right corner of the wall; a tall unlit candle stood across from 9's bed; a block of wood used as a table with the talisman placed on it. It was only appropriate that he keep the talisman safe. 6 also spotted a lighter by the candle, and two cushions on the left corner.

"Another nightmare?" 9 uttered. 6 had been too absorbed in his thoughts to concentrated in why he came here.

"Mmm...yes," answered 6. He removed his key and hung it on the nail. He crawled into 9's bed, eying 9 concernedly. "A-A-Are you...okay," he asked.

"Oh," replied 9, "I'm fine, 6." He looked over his shoulder and smiled at him, letting him know there was nothing to worry. But the striped stitchpunk begged to differ, being perceptive as he is.

"9, I-I...n-need...to...t-t-talk to...you," said 6.

"What is it?," reiterated 9, turning around. He sat down, facing 6.

"Um," began 6, "I-I...uh...I..." He was here now and there was no way out of this. He made it this far, it was time to be strong. "I...I'm in love you!" He blurted that without stuttering. It tired 6 out, but he was glad he said it. However 9's reaction was up to him, and he was ready to take it.

9 sat there, his smile disappearing, optics becoming serious. It happened and there was nowhere to go for 6.

"You were the first to believe me," blurted 6. "You believed me when the others didn't. You understood me." It surprised 6 that he wasn't stuttering in front of 9. He didn't know how, but he was doing it. He was actually speaking to 9 and he wasn't even denying it. "I...I love you, 9. I always have...since we came back." 6 breathed in a breath. "I love you. I...I...I don't want to be with anyone else but you."

Everything came flooding in all at once: fear, worry, anger, despair, and passion. 6 wanted to be swallowed whole. He closed his optics, hugging his knees, burying his face. 5 said that confessing to 9 would make him feel better. Why was he feeling terrible? 6 knew he'd done it, and he wished something siphoned his soul out. He just wanted be buried alive.

6 felt 9's hand stroke his back, making him flinch. Glancing up, he saw 9 looking at him. The way he looked at him let him know that everything was okay and that he was safe.

"6," he said. "I...I can't imagine what you went through to tell me this." He moved his hand to the artist's shoulder. The striped stitchpunk listened all while feeling the nerves recede. "And I," said 9, he let out a chuckle. "I—" 9 stopped himself. "I wanna say this and I want to say it right." He closed his optics. "I...I'm in love with you too, 6."

The striped artist blinked. Maybe he didn't hear it or he was imagining it. "W-What?"

9 nodded his head. "I love you, 6."

6 beamed. The darkness was lifted and he could see his stars align. 9 crept closer to him and kissed him on the lips. The striped stitchpunk widened his pupils. He wrapped his arms around 9's waist and returned the kiss. The rush of passion circulated between them. 6 never believed he would be kissing 9, and now that he was here, he didn't want it to end.

Once they pulled away, they gazed at each other, both with their heads spinning. The experience left them blown away.

"6..." 9 trailed off.

"Don't say anything," said 6. "Just feel."

9 pressed his forehead against 6's. The striped artist felt the warmth rise in his body. He smiled, having finally found what he was looking for. And he was certain that this was no dream.

"Think you can sleep alright tonight?," whispered 9. 6 felt a lump form in his throat, feeling shy around 9's closeness with him. He found his voice again.

"Mmm. Uh-hmm."

9 shifted position, and with that 6 felt his arms free him. The striped stitchpunk watched him lay down and he joined 9. Sparks ignited in 6, daring to burst from his chest. He pressed his body against 9's, the tingles burning.

"Cozy?," said 9, smiling. He covered the blanket over themselves.

"Mhmm," muttered 6. His expression alone was answer enough. And that was all 9 needed. The zippered stitchpunk wrapped his arm around 6's waist, leaning closer. Their lips touched.

"I love you, 6," said 9 huskily.

"I...love you...too..." 6's answer came out breathlessly, but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered at all.

"Sweet dreams," whispered 9.

6 giggled. He leaned closer and pressed his head against 9's chest. His optics closed and his smiled never left his face. Soon the striped artist was deep in sleep while 9 gazed at him lovingly.

Several minutes later, 9's optics began to close and he was asleep with his arms wrapped around 6. And for the first time, 9 didn't have trouble sleeping at all.

Both their dreams had come true.


Well, I hope you all enjoyed this fanfic. Thank you for reading this and don't forget to review.