Hey, me again. Another story from me. I got some help my friend, darkgirl11. ^_^ She's a good friend. And just so you know, this is the first 1x9 fic I've written in years. I thought I'd try it out, just to see if I still had it.

Well, here's to darkgirl11 for her help and support. *raises glass*

Usually 1 would find a moment's peace, but it seemed as though today he wouldn't have one. Pacing the room, mind in a fog, 1 was utterly confused. He blinked his slitted pupils, wondering what he should do next. He looked over at his small room. A makeshift bed, a table, two cushions in the corner, a round mirror propped up against the wall, a candle, a set of matches and a new makeshift staff he cobbled up.

He stopped pacing. It had been six months. Six months since their ordeal with the Fabrication Machine. Six months since they died and were resurrected via the life-giving rain. He endured all of it. 1 went and sat down on his bed, head cradled in his hands. He looked at his right hand. It had gotten damaged during the battle against the B.R.A.I.N. After he was resurrected, 2 and 5 fixed it for him. A new start to a new life.

1 rose from his bed, putting his thoughts aside. He strode out into the hall. He looked out through the numerous windows. Winter had arrived. He remembered the past winters he'd lived through. Whenever he'd see the snowfall he would venture out to watch the graceful gala. Remembering those fond memories only brought up the urge to go outside again.

Sauntering past a mound of rubble, 1 wondered where he could find something warm to wear. He didn't have his usual red cape anymore. That was destroyed in the explosion of their old sanctuary, the cathedral. Just last week 5 and 7 returned from a scouting expedition with a collection of scarves and coats. They were in a box next to the door. 1 made his way toward the open entrance. There was a mountain of discarded books to climb over but he didn't mind. Seeing the snow was on his agenda. He spotted the box over by his left. He rummaged through the bundle of scarves and found one he thought suited him. It was a cream-colored scarf with fringes on it.

With the scarf wrapped around himself like a shawl, 1 walked down the stone stairs to the courtyard. The snowflakes floated in the breeze. A cold wind blew, the elder stitchpunk shivered and wrapped himself tighter. He took a glance at his hand—the one that got destroyed and repaired. But that was in the past now. He had to focus on the now. Footsteps resonated. 1 turned around. 9, along with 5 and 7 were walking down the steps. They were wrapped in scarves that they got from the box. 5 had his quiver strapped to him; 7 had her spear; and 9 had his light staff.

"Good morning, 1," said 5. He tightened his shawl, making sure it wouldn't be blown away in the wind.

"Good morning." 1 answered. "Scouting, I believe?"

"Yeah," said 5. "2 needed a new wrench and 6 needs new ink."

7 nodded. "Poor guy couldn't wait to start drawing the snow."

9 chuckled. "Let's go before he tries to draw with oil."

5 laughed. "Yeah."

The three walked away en route to their scouting expedition. 1 watched them. By the time they exited the gate, 1 turned away, glancing at the sky. Snow blew in a flurry. Sighing he walked over to the steps and took a seat, watching the snowflakes descend upon the concrete ground. It has been six months since he found out he was in love with 9. Yes, 1 was in love with the younger stitchpunk. He'd been spending the last few months wondering if he should tell him or not. Right now he was going to put it off until 9 came back. The only other living soul he told it about was 2. The inventor would talk to him at night when everyone else was asleep. 2 gave him advice on how to tell 9 his feelings. Six months and still no progress. 1 knew he couldn't put this off for much longer. He had to tell 9 how he felt. What worried him was the fear that 9 might not return his feelings.

Footfalls echoed. He turned around. 3 and 4, accompanied by 2, were making their way down. The twins flickered hello to him with their optic lights. They were bundled up in warm scarves, the hoods on their heads protected them from the cold. The twins trotted off to the courtyard while 2 sat down next to 1.

"It's freezing, isn't it?" 2 said. 1 only nodded as a response. The inventor looked at him inquisitively. Then it hit him. "You didn't tell him yet?"

"No," replied 1.

2 shook his head. "You can't keep going on like this," he said, clapping 1's shoulder. "You need to tell him."

"How, 2?" 1 spat, facing the inventor. "How should I tell him?"

An idea formed in 2's head. "You could have joined them on their scouting," he said. "You could have taken 9 somewhere where you can tell him alone."

Why didn't I think of that? 1 looked at the iron gates, wishing he had gone with them and told 9 in private. Sometimes he wished someone would drag him and force the words out of him.

"I don't think I can tell him," said 1 after a brief thought. "No, he deserves someone better. Someone who can look out for him. Someone who can be there for him."

"That's you."

1 glanced at him before looking away. Adjusting his scarf, he considered 2's words. The inventor was certainly like a brother to him. Like how 5 was like a brother to 9. He thought back to six months ago, when he was resurrected. He woke up in the same place he died. He wandered a bit before 7 and 9 found him. They took him back to the library where he found 2 and 5. Once 2 and 5 were well enough, they tended to 1 and rebuilt his hand. Then, when all was quiet, 9 came and talked to him. It was mostly idle talk, like asking him how he was and such. 1 was reluctant to talk at first, but after a few minutes he jumped into conversation. It wasn't until 9 ended the conversation by announcing he was heading off to bed. That's when he realized his feelings for the younger male. To this day 1 still treasures that night.

2 peered over at the twins. They were flickering their optics, recording the light snowfall. 3 picked up a pile of snow from the ground and threw it in the air. 4 smiled and flickered her optics. They waved to 2 and 1. The inventor waved back. 1 only looked at him and wondered how he could carry on after all they've been through. He hasn't let go of the past. The memories were still fresh in his head. He would carry this burden for the rest of his life until he let it go.

"Look, 1," said 2, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Everybody deserves to have happiness in their lives. 5 confessed his feelings to 6 and look at them now. 6 is doing better without the source haunting his mind. 8, well...he's getting there. But my point stands, you can't go on like this. Sooner or later, he's going to need to know."

He wasn't wrong. 1 couldn't continue like this. Time has passed and things haven't gotten better. He was still stuck in the past. He's been thinking about it over and over and over again, and he still came up with the same answer. Tell him. Six months and he hasn't done it. This stalling had to stop.

"You're right," 1 blurted out.

2 snapped his head at him, raising a stitched brow. "What was that?"

"You're right," repeated 1. "I'm going to do it. I'm going to tell him. When he gets back, I'll tell him."

"Really?" 2 uttered, optics blinking. He thought he was joking with him, but after catching his serious look, the inventor was sure that 1 was not jesting. "Well," said 2, "I'm surprised. This is progress." He clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm proud of you." 1 gave him a nod.

2 stood up and went over to the twins. They showed the inventor a pile of snow they were holding up, their optics flickering. 2 smiled at them. As he watched them 1 thought back to the past several months. He saw the change in everyone 5 and 6 were certainly happy together, and without the source to draw over and over, he was slowly engaging with the world with his friends' support. 8 no longer used his magnet, or perhaps he still used it when he wasn't around. All of this happened and things were getting better. 1 needed to tell 9 how he feels. Even if 9 doesn't return his feelings, he'll feel better knowing he no longer has to carry this weight.

The snow had not let up since this morning. 1 watched from the fountain; the gala of snow gracing the empty earth. 7, 5, and 9 return from their scouting trip several hours ago. Twilight was on their way. The sky was a vibrant shade of purple and orange which 1 thought looked beautiful. It's been a few hours since 9 returned with the others. They brought that wrench 2 requested, along with some blankets, the ink for 6, rope, nails, candles, and a small rubber ball for the twins to play with. 1 still wasn't ready to tell 9 yet, and he had until sunset to tell him. If not today, then tomorrow was another chance.

1 turned and walked down past the heap of books. He figured he could wait until the sun goes down to tell him. He hadn't seen 9 since he came back. He could use this time to go talk to him, but according to what he overheard from 7 apparently it was something he couldn't tell anyone. 1 wondered what it was. Should he seek him out? No, he thought it be better if he waited for 9 to come out on his own. Till then, he thought he step out one more time before the sun goes down. By the time he reached the doorway he found 5 and 6 already there. 1 stood under the doorway. They were sitting together, 6 had his inkwell and drawing away. 1 caught a glimpse of 6's sketches. He was drawing the snowflakes. It was amazing how he captured every detail. 5 smiled at his love's work. 1 smiled, he was happy for them. It made him jealous even. Cold seeped into his fabric. The whole courtyard was buried under a blanket of snow.

"That's very good, 6," said 5, smiling. The striped stitchpunk smiled back. The two were unaware of 1 watching them. It was better to let them have their moment. 1 knew they'd be heading back inside soon. A frown appeared on 1's face. As he walked away the sadness took over. Looking over his shoulder, he saw the sky darkening. Night was creeping closer. He still had some time.

As he made his way to his room, he caught a glimpse of one of the twins. 1 couldn't tell if it was 3 or 4; they had their back turned. Downside of being twins. He then saw 8 appear. He looked at the hooded stitchpunk. The hooded twin turned to the side and 1 saw the number four on her chest. It was 4. Then 8 and 4 walked together with 4 gazing up at him. 1 could tell there was longing in them. They would be happy together. 1 was happy for them. He wished he could be like that with 9 once he tells him.

Love was all around him. 2 was right. He was always right, he couldn't deny it. So much stalling had been wasted, and 1 was feeling his worry growing more and more. He headed back to his room. He would just have some time to calm down and then tell 9. He'd been repeating it to himself over and over, but it was what he had to do. He had to get the tension off his shoulders. Just say it. Blurt it out. When he entered his room 1 pressed his hand against the wall, huffing a breath. Blinking his optics, he felt a head rush. It mitigated when he put both hands against the wall to have better balance. Turning around he pulled out a match, lit it and his candle was alight. As he blew the match he thought he was making a fool of himself. Glancing at the floor, thoughts rushed at him like the wind. He was not going to put it off anymore. By the time he gets his moment's peace he was going to seek 9 out and get it out in the open.

"1?"

1 glanced up. That sounded like 9's voice. Was this a sign? Could this really be happening? He didn't know. He'd better find out.

"1, are you there?" 9 called out.

"Y-yes, come in." 1 said. The curtain flipped open and 9 looked in, catching sight of the elder stitchpunk. 9 stepped inside, hands behind his back. It looked like he was holding something. 1 wondered what it was. "What brings you here?," was 1's next question.

"O-oh, uh," said 9, pausing. He tugged at whatever he was holding. "I...I...came to give you this." He showed 1 the sack he had holding. Perplexed, 1 eyed it, raising a brow. 9 held the sack for him, waiting for 1 to take it. The leader took the sack and opened it. He tilted his head in puzzlement. He pulled out a swathe of silk. To his surprise it turned out to be a cape. A dark red cape with white trimming. A gold brooch held it in place.

"I made it, " said 9. "That's why I was holed up in my room. I've spent every scouting trip looking for fabric to make you a cape. You said I owed you a cape, so there it is."

1 looked at 9 and at the cape. A rush of emotions overtook him. He wasn't able to process this moment. He wanted to thank him, but couldn't figure out how. 9's gift was meaningful. All he knew was that he was grateful.

"Try it on," said 9, smiling. He couldn't turn down such a request, so 1 undid the brooch and draped the cape around himself. Fastening the brooch, 1 turned around and looked at himself in the mirror. The dark red made his fabric look paler. The glow from the candle's flame threw off the brooch's reflective surface, resembling a glow similar to fire.

"It looks incredible," said 1, changing pose. He looked at himself from different angles, admiring the red silk's shimmer. "It's beautiful. I...I can't begin to express myself, this...this is so wonderful." He faced the zippered stitchpunk. "Thank you, 9."

9 chuckled. "You're welcome." he said. "I wanted you to have the best present. I put a lot of work into this cape. I got some sewing advice from 5, but this was purely my work."

"I can tell," said 1. "And 5 was very helpful at that."

"Right."

9 turned around. He was about to leave. 1 was not going to let him go without finally talking to him.

"Wait." 1 said. The younger male stopped as soon as he spoke. 9 looked over his shoulder, eying him quizzically. "I need to talk to you."

"What is it?" 9 asked, turning around.

"It's..." 1 trailed off, looking at the floor. He had 9 right where he wanted, and now he needed to be honest with him. "9...there's something I've been wanting to tell you." He couldn't seem to work his mouth. "I..." His world seemed to whirl. "I..." There was no turning back now. "I've fallen in love with you."

9's optics widened in surprise. This was not how he wanted to tell him exactly, but he said it. 1 looked at the younger stitchpunk who was having a hard time processing this. All at once, 1 felt guilt. Regret followed through.

"Uh, oh, well..." 9's optics darted in every direction. "I-I...I, well—Wow." He put a hand to his head, optics looking down at the floor.

"I-I...I can't explain why I feel this way towards you." 1 said. He placed his hands on 9's shoulders. "When I saw you about to sacrifice yourself to the Machine I panicked. I...I couldn't risk losing you. Then, when we were resurrected, I...I thought the feeling would go away, but it wasn't until that night we spent talking. That's when I realized I was truly falling for you." Then more gravely. "I'm wrong to feel this way towards you, I'm sorry, I..." He stopped talking altogether. Taking a step back, the dam broke and everything came flooding in: anger (mostly at himself), despair, worry, confusion, and, most of all, the constant passion.

"I-I can't believe this," said 9, looking at anything but 1's face. Confusion swamped him. "I-I...I just can't—I...I..I.."

This was it. He was going to tell him he didn't feel the same. It was expected. 1 didn't blame him.

"And I can't believe I'm hearing this because I'm in love with you too," said 9.

A spark ignited in 1's soul. His pupils widened. Could he really be hearing this right? Was 9 really meaning it? It wasn't until 9 stepped closer and he grabbed him by the shoulders. Their lips touched. Either 1 couldn't move, or he was under a spell so powerful that rendered him immobile. When 9 pulled away, the elder looked at him with wide pupils. This was real.

"9, I..." 1 was cut short when the younger stitchpunk placed a finger on his lips.

"Don't say you're not worth it because you are," he said, caressing 1's face. "Don't say you've failed because you've done so much. You're not weak; you've suffered through so much, and that's what keeps you strong." The zippered male looked at him with total seriousness. "I've learned not too long ago that in order to be strong, we have to stand together." This time 9 smiled. "I'll be by your side, 1. I promise."

If 1 could cry, he'd burst into tears by now. Finally, it was all falling into place. After months of pushing himself, and 2's encouragement, he finally got his happy ending. He should probably thank the inventor? Perhaps tomorrow would be best. The two hugged and there was nothing that could wreck this moment.

By the time they pulled away 9 had something to ask him. "Would you like to come see the snow outside with me? Use the opportunity to try out your new cape?" But it seemed like 1 had a different plan.

"It's getting late," he said. "We can watch the snowfall tomorrow." He took 9's hand and led him to the bed. "For now let us not talk about the snow. Let us not talk at all." 1 walked up to the candle and blew it out.

"Hmm?" 9 coyly hummed. The elder sticthpunk strolled back to the bed.

"Oh no, we will be much too busy for that." he said in a husky voice as he crawled toward him on the bed. 9 giggled shyly.

It just the two of them now. The darkness surrounded them, but they would not be deterred. Soon their optics met, and so did their lips.

If you're wondering, I wrote this for Christmas. Technically kinda.