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Shopping was one of Corpse’s least favorite things ever.
He dreaded having to go outside in general. People would always stare at him for dressing how he dresses. The mask on his face draws the attention he wants to avoid, and dressing in all black doesn’t help him blend in under the bright light of the stores.
But Sykkuno had begged him, with those puppy eyes of his, for a day out at the mall.
Revealing his face to the other was a level up for their friendship. Corpse needed to overcome the next level which meant going shopping together. At least he thinks that’s what it is.
Sykkuno: please Corpse!!! it'll be less crowded than usual because it's a weekday !!1!
Corpse: less crowded is still very much crowded.
Sykkuno: we have to get gifts for our secret santa thing
Corpse: amazon
Sykkuno: i wanna see the presents in person to see if theyre good enough
Sykkuno: make sure they’ll be happy with them :)
Sykkuno: wait but if ur not comfortable that’s ok im sorry
Corpse: i can’t say i’ll be 100% cool but...
What was Corpse supposed to do? Say no?
That's how he found himself struggling with the shopping bags Sykkuno had asked him to hold for him while he searched through the rack of winter jackets.
They’d driven to the mall in Sykkuno’s car, fulfilling Corpse’s dream of finally seeing his friend behind the wheel. The thought of it seemed so obscure to him, but that’s because their friendship had consisted of seeing each other only from the waist up for months.
Sykkuno was being honest when he said it would be less crowded. But there were still a good number of people in each store they entered.
“Toast mentioned he needed a one for his trip next month.” he picks out a black bubble jacket from the rack. “What size do you think he is?”
He moves on from the question before Corpse can reply. Something he’d gotten used to as the two got closer. Sykkuno talks to himself a lot. He keeps the conversations going when Corpse struggles to find the right words. It’s comforting, especially in a setting like this, out in public.
“If it fits me, do you think it’ll fit him?” he slides an arm into the jacket. Staring at himself in the mirror nearby.
Corpse doesn’t know what to get Michael for the holidays. He hasn’t had the chance to talk to him as much as he has with everyone else at Offline TV. He’d have to come to Sykkuno for help regardless.
They buy what they need for the gift exchange as well as smaller gifts for their other friends. They smell a couple of scented candles, try on ugly sweaters, and eventually get hungry.
They eat under the harsh lights of the food court. Sort of.
Sykkuno eats his taco bell taco freely, rambling to Corpse with a full mouth about the shenanigans that went on at the house before he moved.
“Turns out I didn’t lock the door and Toast opened it!” the taco shell crumbles under his grip.
Corpse snorted out a laugh. He sipped on his soda from under his mask as Sykkuno continued his story about slipping in the shower. He made so much noise as he fell that Toast thought he’d died. He didn’t get injured or anything, but Toast saw too much that day when he opened the bathroom door.
“You see, um, many things in that house…” Sykkuno’s eyebrows knot together as he remembers what it was like living with everyone. “Way too much.”
He finishes his tacos after Corpse rejects an offered bite, and they head for the exit.
“Can we get dessert before we leave?” Corpse asks.
“Sure, Corpse!”
They make a detour and then head back to the exit. Corpse got himself ice cream, Sykkuno got a cinnamon roll.
Corpse expected the car ride home to be just as uneventful as the drive there. Traffic is as light as it can get in LA, and the engine hum is soothing to Corpse’s ears.
He would’ve fallen asleep if it wasn’t for his dessert. He would be able to eat it comfortably if Sykkuno’s windows were tinted darker, but they’re not.
He holds the softening ice cream in one hand, while he offers to feed pieces of the cinnamon roll to his friend every now and then.
Corpse spots a car in Sykkuno’s mirror. The driver is obviously very aggressive, swerving between lanes, passing whoever they can.
He gets really close to Corpse’s side of the car and, abruptly cuts them off.
“Fuck!” Sykkuno slams the brakes with a screech. They both jerk forward. Phones slide off each of their laps and the bags can be heard crashing into each other behind them.
Corpse is thankful for his seatbelt holding him secure. His face would've slammed into the dashboard, and he doesn’t want to imagine how badly that would’ve hurt. He leans back into his seat, trying to calm his pounding heart. They hadn’t come to a complete stop, but the sudden drop of velocity was terrifying enough.
His hands had balled up into fists involuntarily, forgetting about his ice cream cone. He unclenches his hand and finds it covered in sticky chocolate-vanilla twist ice cream. Gross.
“Are you fucking stupid!?” a horn blares distantly.
Corpse freezes.
Huh. Wha- Sykkuno?!
His ears must be deceiving him. His brain goes into overdrive as he struggles to process his surroundings. He can only manage one thought.
Not my Sykkuno.
Oh no. Not the Sykkuno who would inconvenience himself to the max for his friends. Not the sweet man who brightens everyone’s day with his soft voice. With his sweet, contagious laughter that makes Corpse hear bells ringing. The Sykkuno who cries when he’s frustrated. The Sykkuno who apologies for literally anything.
That’s not something his Sykkuno would say.
For a second, Corpse thinks he’s the one getting yelled at for absolutely murdering his own ice cream cone. But Sykkuno’s leaning forward in his seat, a white-knuckled grip around the steering wheel. His ears are an angry red and Corpse watches the soft color slowly start spreading down his cheeks.
Corpse wants to reach out and press his cold hands on his face to cool him down. But something about Sykkuno right now is… scary.
“They let any fucking dumbass on the road these days.” Sykkuno switches lanes, stepping on the gas with a force that makes the engine hum even louder. Corpse’s head is pushed back from the sudden acceleration.
Sykkuno honks at the other car as they pass by.
The other car honks back and Sykkuno’s face gets even redder.
He rolls down his window, and oh god.
Sykkuno extends his arm out, under the bright LA sun. He lifts one of his delicate, slightly crooked fingers towards the sky (the middle one), along with his thumb. Corpse has to close his eyes for this. He wishes he could switch off his ears too.
“Fuck you too!” he shouts out of his window.
Corpse can’t breathe. He’s going to die. He’s actually already dead lol.
It’s silence in the car for a few minutes. Sykkuno’s face is a soft pink now, and his shoulders are down to their usual slouch as he continues to drive. He’s humming along to the radio, tapping his fingers to the rhythm.
“Can I get more of- Oh, god, Corpse!”
His fingers are still wrapped around his desert. It’s been dripping down his arm and onto his jeans. Corpse looks down at himself, wondering how his physical body hasn’t ascended to the afterlife like his soul just has.
He cleans himself up with the cheap napkins as he thinks to himself:
Not like this. Not like this.
He’s always wanted to be cussed out by Sykkuno, hear him say the forbidden f-word that Sykkuno was not legally allowed to say. But he wasn’t fucking ready. He wasn’t ready for Sykkuno to explode and then move on as if nothing happened.
“Sy…?” Corpse feeds another forkful of the frosted pastry to the other.
“Yeah, Corpse?” he takes it into the mouth, eyes glued to the road like the safe driver that he is.
“Nothing. Never mind.”
Sykkuno invites Corpse into his apartment to clean himself off. He accepts the invitation, trying to hide the tremor in his voice as he thanks him for letting him borrow a pair of sweats and use his washing machine.
He comes back from the kitchen to find Sykkuno on his couch surfing through his Netflix catalog, sitting stiffly.
“Do you wanna, uh, stay? To watch a movie or something- but only if you’re not too tired from today.”
Corpse can’t let this slide, though.
“Sykkuno you said the f word.” He stands between Sykkuno and the television. Menacingly.
“What do you mean? I just asked about a movie, I think?" Sykkuno shifts uncomfortably from his position. Okay, maybe too menacingly.
“In the car, when we got cut off by that asshole… You-you said it.” he points an accusing finger at the other.
“We got cut off?”
Jesus fucking Christ. If Corpse could keyboard smash in real life he would. Who knew Sykkuno was the type to go into a blind rage. Corpse doesn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't this.
“It was hot. But really, really scary. Promise me you’ll cuss me out next?”
Corpse smirks under his mask as he watches Sykkuno sputter and as he turns a less-angry pink. Ah, yes. The Sykkuno he knows.
He removes his mask and sits down next to the other who’s rambling on about how he can’t just be saying things like that. He leans close, pressing their shoulders together side by side as they look for a movie.
“Hey, Corpse.” Sykkuno’s eyes are still staring at his TV.
“Hm?” Corpse turns to look at him.
“Fuck you.”