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Bad leaned back on the couch, stretching his arms. He sighed. Despite the snowstorm outside, it was particularly cosy today. A steaming mug of coffee sat on the small table beside of him, still too hot to drink. A cheerful fire crackled in the fireplace, filling the room with a soft glow and the faint scent of woodsmoke. The dogs were peacefully asleep—Rat in his lap and Rocco on the floor. He noticed he hadn’t seen Skeppy in a while, but he always liked sleeping in on weekends, so Bad didn’t question it.
Then came the pounding at the door.
Bad flinched, accidentally throwing Rat off his lap. She landed with a thud on the floor and scrabbled away. Bad yelled a quick apology towards her before rushing to the door.
Who would possibly be out there in this weather?
His answer? Well…
It was none other than his missing roommate.
Skeppy stumbled in, the freezing wind slamming the door shut behind him.
He was an absolute mess.
He was dressed in just a t-shirt and sweatpants. Snow covered the entire left side of his body. As soon as the cold dissipated, the snow began to melt, dripping down the side of his face and onto the floor.
“Skeppy, you’re freezing!” Bad exclaimed, running to get a blanket from the couch. He was shivering so much, Bad was sure he could have heard it from a mile away. “What happened?”
“I was lo-looking f-for Rocco b-bec-cause I thought I l-left him outside b-but then I—”
“You’re not even wearing a coat!”
“I didn’t think I would get l-locked out!” Bad threw the blanket over Skeppy, who gratefully wrapped it around himself. He threw the top of it over his head like a hood, and Bad took this chance to get a better look at him. His hair was windswept and plastered to the side of his face, which was bright red from the cold. His glasses were fogging up, and his lips were starting to turn blue.
“Oh my gosh, you muffinhead! You could have died out there! Go take a shower—it’ll help warm you up.” Bad pushed him towards the bathroom, but Skeppy dug his heels into the carpet and refused to budge.
“Bad, no. I’m—a-achoo!” Skeppy sniffled and rubbed his nose. “Ugh. Bad, I’m okay. I’ll just go change, and it’ll all be good.” He sounded stuffed up, which didn’t help his case.
“Nope. Shower. Now.” He pointed to the bathroom. Skeppy opened his mouth to object, but was cut off by another sneeze.
He watched as Skeppy wordlessly walked off to his room, throwing the blanket on his bed before going to the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Bad huffed and rolled his eyes. Typical Skeppy.
Bad made sure he heard the water running before walking to the kitchen, his mind set on making cocoa. Despite how worried he was, he couldn’t help but laugh a little when he walked by Rocco, who was sleeping on the floor.
He briefly considered using his coffee instead of milk for his cocoa, but decided that he didn’t want to completely ruin his stomach. He poured milk into two mugs, quietly singing as he went along. He put the mugs in the microwave and got out two packets of hot cocoa mix. He still didn’t understand why Skeppy absolutely refused to talk to him after he told him that he liked eating it straight out of the packet.
“OW! FUCK!” He sighed. Speaking of Skeppy…
“Make sure the water isn’t too hot before you get in! Your body’s still adjusting to the temperature in the house!” he shouted.
“You could have told me that before!”
“Sorry!” He chuckled and shook his head. “That dunderhead.”
The microwave beeped and Bad took the mugs out, letting them cool as he searched for the mini marshmallows that he knew they had. He heard little paws skittering behind him and turned around.
“Hi, Lucy! How are you doing, baby?” he sing-songed, bending down to pet her. She barked and sniffed at his hands. She licked his fingers, wanting a taste of whatever he’d been making. “Aww, are you hungry, Lucy? This isn’t for you.” She barked at him. “I just fed you!” She whined, rubbing her face against his hands. “Alright, alright,” Bad said, sighing. “I’ll get you your food.” She panted and bounced after him as he walked to the bag of food, a paper plate in his hands. “This is the last time I feed you so much, you little goblin,” he said, pouring food into the plate. She greedily gobbled it up, fully knowing that this would not be the last time Bad gave in. Hearing the sound of food, Rocco had woken up and was now staring hungrily at Bad.
“No. No food for you. Skeppy wouldn’t allow it.” Rocco whimpered and lowered his head. Bad felt his heart and resolve break a little. A tiny bit wouldn’t hurt, right? That was Bad’s defence as he found himself pouring some food into a plate for Rocco. He promised himself that this was a one-time thing and that he wouldn’t feed the dogs any more than they were supposed to get.
Bad groaned. He needed to get back to the cocoa before Skeppy got out of the shower. He hadn’t meant to get distracted—he was just so weak to puppy-dog eyes.
Bad knocked on the bathroom door. He could still hear water running, but no sign of Skeppy.
“Skeppy, you still alive in there?”
“Give me a minute! I’m still fucking freezing.”
“Language,” Bad chided, sighing. He never learned. “Make sure to come out soon. The cocoa’s gonna get cold.” That was a lie, but Skeppy didn’t need to know that. Besides, he could get it finished by the time he got out, so it wasn’t exactly a lie either.
He heard the squeak of the water being turned off and the curtain being pulled aside. Oh. Skeppy was getting out. Was it because he heard he had cocoa?
Before Bad could think of what to say, because he definitely did not have cocoa, Skeppy emerged from the bathroom, hair still dripping wet and dressed in only a rumped t-shirt and sweatpants.
“I heard cocoa.”
Bad laughed nervously. “About that…”
“Bad.”
“Oh gosh, look at, um…” He looked around for a distraction. “Look at what you’re wearing! You’ll, uh, you’ll freeze to death out here!” Skeppy just cocked an eyebrow. “Okay, look. I don’t actually have cocoa right now, but it’s nearly finished.”
“Uh huh,” Skeppy said, unconvinced.
“It would have been finished by the time you got out! I just didn’t expect you to come out right when I said I had cocoa!”
“Alright, prove it then.”
“Alright, I will!” Bad marched off to the kitchen, Skeppy following behind him.
“Fuck, it is cold,” Skeppy hissed, despite the heater being on and the fire in the fireplace.
“Go put on a jacket or something then, muffinhead. The cocoa’ll be ready by the time you come back,” he said. “ Promise,” he added, seeing Skeppy’s expression. Skeppy slunk off to his room and Bad quickly got to work making the cocoa. Thank goodness the milk had stayed warm. That meant he didn’t have to reheat it, and it was also the perfect temperature for drinking. He stirred in the hot cocoa mix and, in a moment of genius, sprayed some whipped cream on top.
“Baaddd,” Skeppy called. “Did you keep your promise this time?” Bad sighed.
“Yes, Skeppy. I did keep my promise ‘this time’. Go sit on the couch—it’s nice and toasty there.” Bad walked out, a mug of cocoa in each hand, as promised. Skeppy was waiting on the couch. He had not only gotten a hoodie, but had also wrapped himself up in a blanket burrito, his knees pulled to his chest. Bad couldn’t help but let out a quiet ‘ aww’.
“Got your cocoa,” he said, handing the mug to Skeppy as he sat down next to him.
“Thanks,” he said, voice muffled by the blanket. He took the mug and sipped it. “Wow, you weren’t lying about it being cold by the time I got out, huh?” Skeppy teased.
“Wh—hey!” Bad drank his cocoa. Perfectly warm, just like before. “This isn’t cold, you jerk!” Skeppy laughed.
“I know. I’m just teasing.” He sank back into the cushions, cupping the mug with his hands. “It’s perfect, actually. The whipped cream adds a nice touch.”
“That’s more like it,” Bad said, smiling. They drank their cocoa in comfortable silence, the only sound being the fire crackling in front of them.
“Hey, Bad?” Skeppy said, setting his now-empty mug down.
“Yeah?”
“We should put on a movie or something.”
“Oh, sure.” He grabbed the remote. “What do you want to watch?”
“I dunno, I just felt like watching something Christmas-y, you know? Perfect weather and all that.” Bad couldn’t help but laugh.
“Perfect weather? You nearly froze to death!”
“We don’t talk about that. And I’m fine now!” Bad rolled his eyes, smiling.
“Whatever you say, Skeppy.” He turned his attention to the TV hanging above the mantle. “How about we watch ‘Home Alone’?”
“Really? That one?”
“Oh, come on! It’s a classic!”
“It’s so silly though!”
“Do you have anything better?” Skeppy thought for a moment, then shook his head. “That’s what I thought, muffinhead.”
He entered it into the search bar, choosing the movie when it popped up. As the movie started playing, Skeppy unwrapped himself and offered half his blanket to Bad. He took it, thankful for the extra warmth. Skeppy wasn’t lying—it really was cold outside. Unfortunately, the blanket wasn’t large enough to cover the both of them from where he was sitting, so he scooted closer, hoping he wouldn’t mind.
They watched the movie like that, Skeppy occasionally making snide comments under his breath about “how stupid the guys are” and how he “would have done so much more” if he were in Kevin’s situation. Bad had told him to pay attention at first, but gave up and started getting into small arguments with him.
Well, arguments wasn’t the best way to put it. It was whatever they normally had, but with gentle, hushed voices that lacked their usual bite. Bad quite liked the change. It felt softer, more personal.
At some point during the movie, they had moved closer, with Skeppy’s arm pressing against Bad’s own. Oddly enough, Bad hadn’t minded it. He felt a weight on his shoulder and looked over. Skeppy had leaned against him and rested his head on Bad’s shoulder, eyes half-closed.
“Are you tired?” he asked, fumbling for the remote so he could turn the volume down.
“No,” Skeppy mumbled. “It’s more comfortable this way.” Bad hummed. Without thinking, he shifted and put his arm around Skeppy, pulling him closer. It just felt so natural.
Bad wasn’t a touchy-feely person, not by far, but with Skeppy, it was just…different. He enjoyed holding him close, playing with the hair on the back of his head, and overall just…well, his presence. It was comforting.
And that was fully confirmed when Skeppy had wrapped his arms around his stomach, nuzzling into his neck. Bad had let his head fall, resting against Skeppy’s. They’d watched the rest of the movie like that, neither of them feeling the need to move.
By the time it ended, the fire had died down, and the only light was the soft glow of the lamp behind them.
“How’d you like the movie?” Bad asked, but he received no answer. He heard soft snores and looked down to see Skeppy asleep on his shoulder. “Aww. Wake up, sleepyhead,” he said, nudging him. Skeppy groaned and blinked the sleep from his eyes.
“Wha’s goin’ on?” he asked, fighting back a yawn.
“We need to get you to your room so you can sleep properly,” Bad said, brushing the hair out of Skeppy’s eyes.
“I’d rather stay here. You’re warm. My bed isn’t.”
“Your neck’ll hurt in the morning.”
“Mmph.” Skeppy buried his face into Bad’s neck. “Don’t care. Don’t wanna move.” To be honest, Bad didn’t want to move either, even though he knew he would absolutely regret it tomorrow.
He shifted so that he was cradling Skeppy in his arms and slowly leaned back until his head rested against the arm of the couch. Skeppy laid his head on Bad’s chest, moving his arms so that they were now wrapped around his back.
“You know, you’re going to regret this tomorrow when your neck feels like it’s going to break,” Bad mumbled. “It’s not too late to leave yet, Skeppy.”
“I think it’s been ‘too late’ for a while now.” Bad hummed and combed his fingers through Skeppy’s hair. Skeppy relaxed in his arms. “Keep doing that,” he muttered. “It feels nice.” Bad happily obliged and soon enough, Skeppy was fast asleep. Too tired to think properly, Bad pressed a kiss to the top of his head before turning off the lamp.
“Goodnight, sleepyhead,” he whispered, pulling the blanket up and covering both of them. The last embers of the fire went out, and Bad closed his eyes, finally succumbing to his exhaustion.
The next morning, he and Skeppy had woken up, their limbs tangled together, painful aches in their necks, and a suspicious puddle on Bad’s shirt that Skeppy swore wasn’t drool. Despite that, Skeppy had practically begged for “more cuddles”, and, well, who was Bad to deny his puppy-dog eyes?
Eventually, Skeppy didn’t need to ask anymore. One of them would climb into bed and the other would follow, Rat occasionally shuffling in behind them. Bad’s room slowly fell out of use, becoming more of a guest room rather than his bedroom.
Huh.
Who knew that Skeppy nearly freezing to death would lead to such a huge change in routine?