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“Thanks for having me, Corpse.” Sykkuno rolls up his sleeves at the sink. Corpse hums in response. “I don’t know where else I could’ve gone on such a short notice.”
“Are you sure that’s going to be enough?” Corpse asks, sitting criss-cross on his couch, facing away from Sykkuno.
“Breakfast for dinner is always enough!” Sykkuno rinses the bowls out. Crumbs of store brand frosted corn flakes slip down the drain. He sets the bowl to dry.
“Really? I would’ve tried to cook something for you.”
Sykkuno shakes his head, “You’ve done enough already.”
Sykkuno has had a few issues at his apartment lately. At first, he thought he was imagining things. Out of the corner of his eye, he’d see little dark things scurrying across his bedroom floor. They became more and more frequent as the days went by. He’d wake up to droppings on his kitchen table, he would hear squeaks outside his bedroom door in the middle of the night.
He set traps hoping they would work but reached his breaking point when, one morning, the head of a mouse peeked out of his kitchen cabinet. They got into his pop-tarts.
Defeatedly, he called his landlord, who called the fumigation company. Sykkuno was ordered to be out of the house for at least 24 hours in the meantime.
Corpse was the first person to offer to let him spend the night over. Sykkuno was grateful for the offer. Corpse was one of the people Sykkuno felt most comfortable being around. Mostly because Corpse doesn’t do much talking. The air is comfortable when they’re together, never needing to fill the silence with forced conversation. And even when they do talk, their conversations flow smoothly.
They stare at the TV for a few hours, talk about what’s on the screen every now and then until Corpse starts yawning. He disappears into the bathroom, presumably to brush his teeth.
“Turning in for the night?” Sykkuno calls out.
“Yeah. Come in when you’re ready?”
“Sure?”
Corpse doesn’t seem to hear the uncertainty in his voice. He disappears into the hallway. Sykkuno hears the click of a door shutting.
What did he mean by coming in? Like, to his room? He must have a second mattress or an inflatable bed prepared for him or something.
Sykkuno scrolls mindlessly through his social media accounts, not really taking anything in, wondering exactly what Corpse meant.
His eyes eventually get heavy. It’s a little past midnight and Sykkuno changes his clothes in the bathroom. He uses Corpse’s toothpaste, having forgotten his at home.
Sykkuno opens the bedroom door as slowly as he can, peeking his head into Corpse’s room. He’s face up on his bed, arm hanging off the edge, snoring lightly. Sykkuno worries he’s going to tip over and fall.
There is no extra bed, no inflatable mattress, nada.
“I should… go back to the couch…” Sykkuno speaks to no one but himself.
He lies down on his side trying to find the best position that wouldn’t have him waking up in pain. Corpse doesn’t have any throw pillows for Sykkuno to rest his head on and the leathery material is uncomfortable against his cheek.
He dozes off, never falling into a deep sleep.
He wakes up, uncomfortable. The moon is still bright, his phone reads 3:45am. His hips ache, and he winces as he extends a numbed leg in the air. Sykkuno reaches for a blanket, his half-asleep brain expecting it to be at his feet, but there’s nothing. He looks around confused, hoping to find something to cover himself with.
But alas, there is nothing warm in sight. Sykkuno brings his legs up to his chest, shivering.
It’s 4 am, and Sykkuno has given up.
He stands, wobbling on his leg that has still not regained feeling. He navigates Corpse’s apartment with the little light that comes in through the windows and finds his bedroom door. Corpse hasn’t moved from his spot, His body still rests dangerously on the edge of his bed, though his snoring has calmed down a bit.
The only place open for him is the other half of the bed, where he’d be trapped between Corpse and the wall.
Should he wake Corpse up? What if he gets annoyed? What if he’s weirded out?
Quite a dangerous situation if you ask Sykkuno. But, high risk, high reward. He’d get a comfy bed, warmth, and he’d get to sleep next to Corpse.
Sykkuno gets on his knees at the foot of the bed, it dips under his weight. The springs creak as he crawls forward in an awkward manner in order to lie down with his head on the pillow.
He collapses face down into the pillow with a muffled oof , surprisingly out of breath. He plots how he’s going to wake up in the morning. He settles on forcing himself to wake up before Corpse and sneaking out of bed without a sound.
He rolls over to face the wall, almost touching his nose to it,
But the wall is cold. It pulls the warmth from his body until he’s almost shivering. Frustrated, he tries to lie face up, but then his left side is colder than his right side.
He rolls around to face Corpse, feeling the cold tug at his back. He scoots closer, picking up the corner of the blanket that Corpse is most definitely hogging. The most he can cover is his thighs, so he tucks his arms into his shirt, pressing them tightly against himself.
He pauses, making sure he hasn’t accidentally woken up Corpse. He watches his chest rise and fall, his eyelids flutter in his sleep. Sykkuno notices that he has really long eyelashes, visibly soft skin, and an overall really pretty face. His hair looks ruffled and messy, his biceps are sort of big, and-
Goddamn it, Sykkuno. He feels his face heat up.
He forces himself to empty his mind, shut his eyes, and actually get some sort of rest.
Sunlight is peeking through the window, and through his eyelids. Sykkuno assumes it’s barely seven in the morning.
He’s, like, really warm. All over.
He opens his eyes to see an arm practically around his neck. It traps him where he rests, along with the weight of a thigh against his belly.
Corpse snores into his ear, causing Sykkuno to jolt. Corpse tightens his hold around him, muttering meaningless words in his sleep.
Sykkuno needs to get out, Fast.
He picks up Corpse’s arm by the wrist, holding it lightly between his thumb and first two fingers. He’s almost got it entirely off of him.
Except, his sweaty hands fail him. Corpse’s arm slips out of his grip, and it comes falling down onto Sykkuno’s windpipe.
He wheezes, vision blurring for a split second.
Corpse is wide awake at this point, arms flailing in panic. Sykkuno follows suit, until they are two flailing messes on a mattress.
Sykkuno feels his hand make contact with Corpse’s face, and he freezes.
“Jesus, Sykkuno!”
Excuses start flying out of his mouth before he can stop himself. He was too cold, he wasn’t sure, he couldn’t sleep, he was gonna leave as soon as possible, he wasn’t trying to wake up practically under Corpse, he-
Corpse holds Sykkuno by the shoulders, effectively calming him down. “It’s okay, Sy.”
“So you’re not mad?” Sykkuno is this close to tears.
“No!” Corpse squeezes Sykkuno’s cheeks between his hands. Terrible idea, honestly. A tear slips down Sykkuno’s cheek. Corpse gasps. “Stop crying!”
“I can’t help it!” Sykkuno blubbers. He’s so embarrassed.
“But then I’m gonna start crying!” Corpse’s voice cracks.
“Why are you crying?!” Sykkuno can’t help but laugh through his tears.
“Because I feel bad! Stop laughing!” Corpse’s face turns red.
“Stop yelling at me then!” Sykkuno is wiping away his tears, but they’re replaced with ones of laughter.
“I’m not!” he yells, and he starts laughing just as hard.
It’s too early to be laughing this hard, for his belly to be hurting, to be falling into Corpse’s arms sniffling and coughing and laughing all at once. Corpse looks at him with soft eyes, breath faltering for just a split second. Sykkuno can’t help but stare either.
Sykkuno jerks his head down to his lap, fiddling with his fingers, unsure of what to do.
“Are you still tired?” Corpse voice is a lot quieter.
“Yeah…”
They both scoot back down, hearts still pounding. Sykkuno gets his fair share of blanket, and it smells comforting. He lets Corpse put his arm around his waist, his large frame overtaking Sykkuno’s. He falls asleep to the rhythmic breathing of the man behind him, puffs of breath tickling the back of his neck, and the warmth against his back.
At some point he turns around, pressing his body flush against Corpse's. Neither of the two mind their interlocked legs. Sykkuno rests his hands under his chin and Corpse still hasn't let go of him.
Sykkuno would like to spend the rest of the day like this. It's really really warm and he can't be back home until the afternoon. He's going to enjoy this while he can.
bonus:
“I even slept with a shirt on for you.”
“Would’ve been better without it.”
“What?”
“What?”