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That day was surprisingly uneventful; Skeppy settled on. He pivoted on his heels as his slender hands gained purchase on the slightly damp rag sitting innocently against the counter of his apartment.
He had recorded a video, spent a few absent hours on the DreamSMP, and had fallen into insufferable boredom that not even videogames could fill.
Surprisingly, he took this opportunity to finally clean his apartment; it had begun to gather objects of previous days and retain small puddles of various spills and drops from lazier days than now.
The windows found themselves open; a slight, salty breeze often made its way into the apartment, occasionally blowing papers Skeppy had yet to organize.
Skeppy’s phone sat concurrently next to the Bluetooth speaker. Various songs of more exciting days filled the apartment around him.
Those songs of previous summers, those songs of previous years, and those songs that always prompted prickling feelings of euphoria against his cheeks.
As the beat of the next song started to hum throughout the house, it found itself humming throughout Skeppy’s chest, as well.
The rag in his hands found itself pressing against Skeppy’s fingers as his grip tightened around it; he began to swipe the rag against the counter, occasionally stopping to spray a foul but satisfying smelling cleaner.
Take me to your best friend’s house--
The song snatched away Skeppy’s attention from his handiwork, eyes landing uncertainly on his speaker, faint inklings of a smile tugging kindly against his lips.
--Roll around this roundabout, take me to your best friend’s house--
Skeppy began to hum along to the song, eye’s turning to stare out of the window before him; he couldn’t help but find that the music drew his attention to something else.
Perhaps even someone else.
His mind drifted; as soon as it did, he found himself imagining himself in a car, strapped against a seat with the windows down.
I loved you then, and I love you now.
Skeppy turned to his left, eyes landing on his best friend, hands wrapped firmly against the steering wheel. His eyes faced forward, as did he lean, and the words of the song came spilling out of his mouth in loud excitement. A pretty smile danced along his lips; air tossed his hair in various directions.
The song on the radio had been cranked up to max; it hurt Skeppy’s ears, but he did not mind.
Don’t take me tongue tied, don’t wave no goodbye.
BadBoyHalo’s voice was barely audible over the sound of thrashing wind and music; Skeppy watched on with pure adoration as his best friend screamed the words of the song, eyes still fixated on the road before him.
Take me to your best friend’s house, normally we’re making out.
BadBoyHalo’s right hand briefly left the steering wheel to push his hair back, letting it rest against his scalp for a moment. He turned to meet eyes with Skeppy, a broad smile dancing upon his face and words, causing Skeppy to smile before dropping his gaze, flustered.
Take me to your best friend’s house, I’ve loved you then, and I love you now.
Skeppy mouthed the second part of the lyrics, eyes fixated on his lap, a warm feeling dancing so chaotically through his chest. He let his head fall back against the seat, stealing greedy glances at his best friend, still singing away as his eyes reflected the soft hues of the blue sky.
Don’t take me tongue tied, don’t wave no goodbye.
BadBoyHalo’s hand contorted to a soft fist as he knocked against the steering wheel softly to the beat, words falling from his lips like a long-forgotten ballad.
One, two, three, four.
BadBoyHalo paused from the song to draw in a long breath; the noise, as humane and straightforward, left blood prickling against his cheeks.
Don’t leave me tongue tied, let’s stay up all night.
The song’s following few lyrics were hummed by BadBoyHalo; it was clear he did not know the lyrics. Skeppy’s heart held purchase on the scene before him as BadBoyHalo only opened his lips to sync up with the few words of this section of the song. Regardless, the song sang on and spilling from the open windows of their car.
I’ll get real high Slumber party, pillow fight-- my eyes and your eyes, like Peter Pan up in the sky.
Skeppy felt a building sense of overwhelming euphoria building exponentially; it was apparent in his eyes.
My best friend’s house tonight, let’s bump the beats till beddy-bye -- don’t take me tongue-tied, don’t wave no goodbye.
BadBoyHalo caught the lyrics again; the words came spilling from his lips loudly again. Skeppy chuckled a kind noise; he found himself placing his hand over his chest to grab at his shirt for his own emotional security.
Don’t take me tongue-tied, don’t kiss me goodnight, take me to your best friend’s house.
Ahead, Skeppy could see the light turning an annoying shade of yellow. Instinctively, BadBoyHalo began to slow the vehicle. He mouthed along to the lyrics nonetheless, turning to meet eyes with Skeppy for only a moment.
Don’t take me tongue tied, don’t kiss me goodnight.
The car came to a rolling stop as the light in front of them displayed an annoying shade of red. BadBoyHalo took the opportunity to turn towards Skeppy again, still smiling, mouthing the words as his head bobbed against the beat of the song.
“I love this song, Skeppy!” BadBoyHalo yelled over the radio, words dancing with warm, white-hot euphoria as his hands found themselves free from the steering wheel and moving along to the beat.
I’ve loved you then, and I love you now.
Skeppy moved too fast for even him to consider. His hands held tightly against BadBoyHalo’s shirt, pulling him over the divider, crashing his lips into his own. BadBoyHalo froze for a moment, hands landing on Skeppy’s shoulders, before completely melting against Skeppy’s lips.
The song continued to sing; Skeppy continued to allow burning feelings of overwhelming joy to overstimulate his heart and mind.
Don’t leave me tongue tied.
It wasn’t until a hurried beep from the car behind them rang out that they pulled away. Foot on the gas again, BadBoyHalo’s chest was heaving, the fabric still scrunched up against his chest from where Skeppy had his hold.
BadBoyHalo’s eyes were glassy with ecstasy; lips still turned into a smile, chuckles falling out his throat.
Skeppy laughed, perhaps at nothing; he simply could not express the overwhelmingly sickly sweet joy threading into every fiber of his being.
Don’t leave me tongue tied.
The slowing of the song snapped Skeppy back into reality, pulling him away from the memory from summers ago; his hand was still wrapped tightly against the rag.
“I’m home!” BadBoyHalo’s voice rang out into their apartment, hands carrying various bags of groceries, eyes settling against the clean apartment, and ears filling with the final beats of the song.
Before he could comment anything else, Skeppy had his slender hands against either side of his adoring BadBoyHalo’s face, and he was pulling him into a tender kiss.
BadBoyHalo dropped the groceries, hands settling against Skeppy’s arms as he allowed himself to be embraced; his eyes fluttered shut.
When Skeppy finally pulled away, BadBoyHalo chuckled a flustered laugh and ran his hands through his hair. “What was that for?”
He was never good with words, so Skeppy simply pulled him in for another kiss; BadBoyHalo did not refuse.