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He couldn’t do anything about it. Those massive, iron-clad arms wrapped around Luigi's torso with the inevitability of a bear trap, hoisting him off his feet as though he weighed nothing at all. He dangled there, suspended over Bowser's spiked shoulder, acutely aware of every inch of difference between him and the bulk of the Koopa King. He was far too weak and, well, there was a substantial size difference that rendered him unable to fight back. How Mario dealt with this guy was beyond him.
But, all that aside, why exactly was he slinging over him over his shoulder like this — where was he planning on taking him?
“W - wait, what are you doing?!” Luigi's voice cracked as his legs kicked uselessly through the air, his fists drumming against Bowser's shell in a futile attempt to wriggle free.
“Kidnapping you,” was all Bowser replied with.
Whatever Luigi had imagined being kidnapped by Bowser would entail, this wasn't it. If he treated all his hostages like this, he didn’t know why the princess would want to be rescued. He wasn’t even sure if it could be considered a kidnapping, it was more like…he was a house guest that didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter.
Bowser took him into a grandeur dining hall, deposited him into an ornate chair with surprising gentleness, then jabbed one clawed finger in his direction commanding him not to move. He then vanished into an adjacent room and did... something. Something Luigi clearly didn’t know, but whatever it was that he was doing was certainly noisy; the clang of metal on metal, crashes, grunts of effort or frustration. He tried to talk to him every now and then, but every reply was laconic, strangling any possibility of maintaining conversation with him. Luigi eventually gave up and delved into silence.
He wasn’t mean. Didn’t lock him up in a cell, or cage, or anything. Didn’t try to kill him. It was strange and, admittedly, kind of frightening despite that Bowser hadn’t yet shown any sort of malicious intent. Frightening that he didn’t know what the koopa was going to do.
An hour passed, though it felt much longer to Luigi, and Bowser left what was apparently a kitchen with two plates of food — spaghetti, specifically. The first plate was The first was almost comically oversized, and was set in front of the seat across from him. The second, normal-sized but still generously portioned, was placed directly in front of him.
Luigi’s jaw nearly hit the floor.
“W - What’s this?” He asked meekly as Bowser took the other seat.
“Food.”
“Is it poisoned or something?” Even as the words left his mouth, he highly doubted he'd be told if it was. As if Bowser would actually admit to poisoning him.
Bowser's gaze snapped up from his plate, capturing Luigi's in a glare. It was softer than Luigi expected, but still enough to make him flinch. “If you don’t want it, don’t eat it.”
“I will! I will!” Luigi's hands flew up in surrender, waving frantically, “But, I don’t understand why you’re giving me food.”
Bowser looked off to the side and remained silent. Luigi only shrunk back into his chair. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked? The entire situation was weird — being kidnapped by your enemy only for him to give you food and eat with you, to boot? It wasn't exactly standard villain protocol.
When Bowser finally spoke, each word seemed dragged reluctantly from his throat. “My underlings said it’d be good for me if I got a date.”
A date. That’s what it was? Suddenly the spaghetti, dim lighting and candles made a lot more sense than they should have.
Honestly, Luigi wished he just kept his mouth shut and ate the damn food. Heat erupted across his face, a blush flaring up in full force, all the way to the tips of his ears. His skin felt like it was on fire, sweat beading along his hairline as mortification consumed him. With his pointer figner, he tugged at his collar and a pathetic oh fell from his lips. This was the first time he’d ever been on a date, and he was forced into it without even knowing what it was.
The two went into silence again, but this time it was excruciatingly awkward.
Bowser broke first. "I know, it's a stupid idea, just —" He heaved out a heavy breath with the faintest plume of smoke, shoving his plate aside to make room for his elbows. His head dropped into his massive hands, shoulders hunching inward. "You can leave if you want."
Every instinct Luigi possessed screamed at him to leave as fast as he could. Run. Run and don’t look back. Even so, he offered Bowser a smile, though it trembled at the edges, and grabbed the nearest fork.
“It’d be a waste if I left without even eating!” The words felt foreign in his mouth, kindness toward his enemy tasting strange on his tongue, “Besides, spaghetti’s my favorite, how could I refuse?”
He didn’t think he’d ever seen Bowser look so shocked.
“I read somewhere you’re supposed to walk your date home, but...” Bowser's gaze skittered away, one clawed hand rising to scratch awkwardly at the back of his head, “I can’t exactly do that.”
Right. It’d be bad if anyone saw them walking together like that.
“Sì, I understand.” Luigi replied quietly, thinking of what words should be said before his departure.
What words would be appropriate after a date, he thought, reminding himself that he indeed just went on a date with Bowser, of all people. Perhaps no words were necessary. He reached up to grab the koopa by his head and tug him downward. Bowser was perfectly compliant and confused.
Heart hammering wildly, Luigi pressed his lips shyly, gently against Bowser's cheek. The skin beneath was rough, warm, and pink bloomed where his lips touched almost instantly.
“R - Right! I - I better be on my way then!” The embarrassment of what he had just done hit him at full force. He bowed hastily, words of goodbye tumbling out in a rushed jumble, then spun on his heel and practically fled.
But, before he set off for good, he turned back around with a sort of cheesy grin stretching his lips. “Let’s do this again sometime, okay?”
Strange, indeed. Bowser couldn’t fight the gruff chuckle that left him.