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“But ‘Geppy, you have to! Vurb said its a game you play with people you really really like!” Bad insisted for the third time that afternoon, shaking the box of pocky in Skeppy’s face.
Even if Skeppy hadn’t been familiar with the concept of the pocky game before, Bad’s brief explanation of the rules had convinced him of two things. First, there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell Skeppy would ever play that game with Bad. Second, Skeppy was going to kill Vurb for putting the idea in Bad’s head. “I’m not gonna play!” He said again, crossing his arms. “Besides, it sounds dumb.”
Bad pouted, puffing out his cheeks. “But ‘Geppy, why not!” he whined, pulling his most devastating puppy eyes.
He’d probably drop it if Skeppy just made it obvious it was a kissing game, right? It was such an easy answer, but the words died in his throat. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, the idea of Bad begging for a kiss made Skeppy’s heart race. It would all be so perfect, except for the fact that Bad had no clue that Skeppy was head-over-heels for him. “I just don’t want to!” he lied, hoping it wasn’t obvious how much he absolutely did want to.
Bad’s shoulders slumped. “Fine,” he said, biting his lip. “If you’re too muffiny to play with me, I’ll go ask Quackity if he wants to play.”
Skeppy snatched the box out of Bad’s hands, ripping it open violently. “No, no, not a chance,” he said, his cheeks burning red. The thought of Quackity sitting close to Bad, their lips only inches apart, it made Skeppy want to gag. He grabbed one of the long pocky candies from the box. The candy didn’t look like anything special, just a thin cylindrical biscuit covered in chocolate. It briefly occurred to him that maybe there was no such thing as the pocky game, that maybe this was some stupid troll. Still, the threat of Quackity kissing Bad was much more dire than Skeppy looking slightly stupid.
Skeppy put the end of the pocky stick in his mouth, holding it loosely like a cigarette. He turned to face Bad, his pulse quickening, torn between dread and excitement.
God, it was all worth it to see Bad’s face though. There was a moment of surprise, then his face lit up like a New Year’s sky, bursting with light and warmth. “‘Geppy!” he cried out brightly. He scooted closer, close enough to grab the other end of the stick, their knees touching. “Alright, first one to the middle of the pocky stick wins! If you drop your end, you lose. If we bump into each other at the middle, then its a tie,” Bad said. He leaned in, only a few inches from Skeppy’s face. He was distractingly pretty, gently biting down on the far end of the pocky, his eyes glittering with playful excitement. His eyelashes seemed to catch the sunlight, framing him in warm energy. It was practically impossible to look away.
The two boys quickly started munching on their end of the stick, racing to be the first at the middle without dropping the candy. Bad’s expression was so intense, it took all of Skeppy’s self control not to laugh and lose his end of the pocky. But with each second they came closer, and somehow both painfully slowly and all two soon, they were less than an inch apart.
Both of them hesitated. Their eyes were locked, silently searching one another for answers to an unspoken questions. Skeppy could feel the faintest touch of Bad’s breath brush over his lips. A moment suspended in time, somehow each of them infinitely close and far apart all at once. It was just a game, Skeppy reminded himself, his mouth dry. It was just a game, he thought, staring into the familiar eyes he’d so come to love. It was just a game, he thought, as Bad closed the distance between them.
There was no time to catch his breath before their lips pressed together. The contact was soft, gentle, like a butterfly landing on the petals of a sunflower. Skeppy’s eyes fell shut, and despite his best efforts to resist, he leaned in. Skeppy felt Bad’s hand cup his cheek, his friend’s thumb stroking him gently as though wiping away tears. Skeppy shivered under the touch, sharply aware of how intimate the tiny gesture felt. Hesitantly, he raised his own hands, wrapping his arms around Bad, holding him close. Their lips parted briefly, a warm sigh escaping Bad before the distance was quickly closed again. The taste of chocolate still lingered between their kiss.
Finally, Bad pulled back, his cheeks pink. Was it embarrassment? Elation? A shortness of breath, from sharing his own so intently? Any other day Skeppy would have teased him for it, but at the moment he was rather tongue-tied, and he would bet he was much more flushed anyway. “Damn,” he managed to choke out, his voice breaking slightly. “I guess that’s a tie, then.”
“Language, you potato,” Bad said fiddling with the box. “Besides, I think I won.”
Skeppy crossed his arms, pulling a face. “What? No! You didn’t beat me to the middle, our faces smacked together!”
Bad didn’t meet his eyes, but that small, sheepish smile was unmistakable. “Well, I still think I won,” he said stubbornly. Then again, Skeppy felt like he’d won too; he could still feel the ghost of the kiss on his lips.
Skeppy snatched the box out of Bad’s hands, trying to look nonchalant about the situation. “No way, I’d never lose to you Baldboyhalo,” he snickered. After a moment’s pause, he pulled out another pocky, gathering up his courage. “How about we play again? Best out of three.”
Bad grabbed the far end of the pocky stick, snapping off a piece and popping it in his mouth. “Maybe, we could just skip to the part where we tie again,” he mumbled fondly, leaning in. “I liked that part.”
And that’s exactly what they did.