Chapter Text
Sykkuno jerks awake, shooting up from the mattress in a panting mess. He brings his hands to his face, feeling the layer of sweat coating his skin as he checks to see if it’s still there. His salty fingers slip into his mouth, feeling for his molars, his canines.
They tremble over each incisor, pushing down and preparing to feel them detach helplessly from the root. He quickly removes his hands from his mouth when he gags.
He manages to scrape his gum with his fingernail in the process, and he winces. The pain grounds him, however, and he’s suddenly aware of the humid blanket suffocating his legs and the sweat-soaked sheets under his body.
There's light coming through under the door from the hallway behind it, but none from the window. His phone reads 5:47 when he picks it up. Corpse must be awake. He sighs.
Sykkuno has done his best to avoid talking about his recurring nightmares to him, to anyone really. He’s silent as he wakes up in terror, always been accustomed to silently crying or gasping for air at the crack of dawn.
They always have one thing in common, those nightmares of his.
He’s always on a boat, over a bitter, cold lake. Sometimes he’s alone, sometimes he isn’t. But it’s ensured from the very start that he’ll go overboard. His skin would burn as it makes contact with the water, paralyzing him for just a moment before adrenaline kicks in. He’ll fight against invisible weights that drag him down, flailing around in a frenzy.
This time around, he’d actually made it back to the surface of the water. He’d gotten his hands wrapped around the wooden edge of the rowboat to hoist himself up - more progress than he’d made the last couple of times.
But a disembodied voice had begun to shout at him.
“You’re gonna take us both down!” he heard.
It was a man shouting. He sounded young, weak, and panicked.
“You’ll flip us over!” He cried.
But Sykkuno was desperate, losing feeling in his legs as the seconds passed. He pulled and pulled, got himself higher and higher, closer and closer to salvation.
“Please.” he strained his throat to speak, the cold stripping away his voice. He looked up for mercy from the other, but was met with nothing of the sort. Instead, he was met with the sight of the blunt end of a hunting rifle.
“Please!” his voice cracked as he begged before it was swung downward onto his face.
Once, twice.
His head, underwater, spun with fear. He sucked in water and breathed it like it was air. His vision became red and cloudy, his own teeth now floating around him in a swirl.
He felt the rifle again, on his hands this time.
Above water, his grip was loosened as each knuckle was crushed between the boat and the weapon. Sykkuno feared that if he didn’t let go, they’d take a blade and deal with him finger by finger.
So he let go.
Like his other nightmares, he began to sink. The idea of drowning didn’t faze him at this point. He was used to the air down there. Thick and heavy, like choking down a large clump of gelatin whole, except it never ended.
The cold is what scares him. He can’t feel himself, physically. Mentally, he’s isolated, freezing. In pure darkness, not even his thoughts can exist. There’s no up, no down, no anything.
The moment he stops fighting, he’s nothing.
It’s not as simple as a fear of death. Sykkuno doesn’t believe lingering on it for an answer will do him any good. These nightmares have been a part of him for a good part of his life, resurfacing every three years or so, at least once a week for months at a time.
He debates getting up and showering. His only other option is to collapse straight back into his pillow to sleep past noon. But his neck is sticky, and he finds his saliva-coated fingers revolting.
So he stands on trembling legs, collecting his things for the bathroom.
The bathroom is outside of his bedroom, where Corpse is most likely spending his early, early morning. He slips through the hallway with ease, running into nobody, with the click of the door shutting being the only thing alerting Corpse that he was awake.
He takes off his soaked shirt, his humid shorts, and wishes he could peel off his skin before climbing into the hot shower.
According to every rule ever written, he should be bathing in ice-cold water. The freezing temperatures would snap him back into reality and soothe his heated face. But Sykkuno’s logic doesn’t play by anybody’s rules, and he’s pink all over by the time he turns the scalding water off.
He walks out in a new set of pajamas, hair dripping water down his back.
“Sykkuno?” Corpse meets him face to face in the hallway. He’s in his own set of lightly damp pajamas, trailing droplets to where he stands. Corpse gets a bathroom right in his own bedroom in their poorly planned out apartment.
“This is a strange time even for you,” Corpse says.
They look each other in the eye, one pair of eyebags to another - a mutual acknowledgment.
“I didn’t eat last night.” Sykkuno flashes a smile at his housemate, letting it drop into a tired pout.
“Woke up starvin’,” he adds, walking past him briskly, well aware that Corpse saw him rummaging his pockets for a tip to hand the delivery person the night before.
“Yeah, same.” Corpse lies in return. He’s never hungry in the mornings. But he follows Sykkuno into the kitchen as if he were to join him for a meal.
They face away from each other, rummaging through cabinets for something to at least chew on.
“Any plans for today?” Sykkuno asks, opening the fridge and pulling out a container of strawberries. He runs them under the faucet and bites into the sour fruit, trying his best not to make a face.
“No.” Corpse takes a seat with a handful of trail mix, continuing the stale conversation, “You?”
“Stream.” Sykkuno leans against the countertop, staring off into the hallway. He sighs.
He’s exhausted, but there’s no reason in trying to fall back asleep after what he’d just been through. He’s been inconvenienced, unable to go back into his room without being forced to change his sheets - a ritual that only rewards him with embarrassment.
“Let’s watch a movie tonight.” Corpse stands up, turning to go back to his room, tossing the remainder of his snack into the garbage can and dusting off his hands.
“Yeah.” Sykkuno stares at his back as he goes. “What did you have in mind?”
“Anything really.” he opens his bedroom door, pausing for just a second, “I’m just in the mood for popcorn.” he shuts the door behind him.
.
The day passes, another stream is done. He showers, he eats.
“Disney?” Corpse scrolls through the selection of films. Nostalgia hits them as they stare at the cover art for the movies they’ve known since their childhoods. A few of them were released as they grew older, holding fewer memories, but amazing nonetheless.
“Ghibli? Dreamworks?” Sykkuno mumbles, clutching the popcorn bowl to his chest.
They’re on Corpse’s bed. According to the younger, it’s the comfiest bed in the apartment, being the only one with an actual bedframe.
“The Spongebob Movie…?” Corpse finally lands on one. Sykkuno can’t help but scoff.
“You know I watched it like fifteen times in a row when it first came out,” Sykkuno confesses.
“That’s how you know it was good.” Corpse taps on his trackpad, bringing up the loading screen and beginning the movie.
It’s always nice being next to Corpse. His bed is large enough for the both of them to lay comfortably, but their knees touch as they slouch forward to stare at the laptop screen. A large blanket is draped over their shoulders.
The plot is easy to follow. Neptune’s crown has been stolen, adventures follow.
“Bald! Bald! Bald!” they shout in unison as the king removes the paper bag from the top of his head. They could recite the film word-for-word if they were asked to.
They burst into laughter, slapping their thighs as they parrot the movie. The bowl of popcorn was devoured during the first twenty minutes of the film, leaving them to sip on sugary soda and shove fistfuls of chocolate-covered raisins into their mouths.
“I used to think the mermaid was kind of hot,” Corpse says through a mouthful of candy. “Patrick was onto something.”
“Really?” Sykkuno looks up at his friend, “I never really…” he doesn’t finish his sentence, attention being drawn by the screen in front of him. They’re a third of the way through the film, and it’s a bit past midnight at this point. Sykkuno’s eyes feel heavy.
The familiar sound of an annoyingly contagious laugh from a certain yellow sponge brings Sykkuno back to his tween years. He remembers himself sitting down in front of the television back in his childhood room, wearing outgrown pajamas that stretched around his growing shoulders, munching on a handful of corn flakes at a time when he should’ve been sleeping.
His eyes ached, begging for some sort of relief from the bright screen. He fiddled with his sleeves, giving his body something to focus on that wasn’t pure exhaustion. He had classes tomorrow, plans with friends that he needed to get rest for.
Sykkuno couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep because he was too afraid to close his eyes.
The clock hit three-thirty, he buried his face in his hands.
Eventually, he’d tear up from the frustration and crankiness that came about whenever he was tired. He’d swallow his pride, march down the hall, and enter his little sister’s room.
Her room was painted pink, stuffed animals sitting in the corner, and a yellow-hued nightlight plugged into the outlet beside her bed. He’d take his usual spot, to the right of his sibling, gently covering their bodies with a warm quilt and throwing his arm over her.
She felt his presence in her deep sleep, loosening her grip around her favorite blanket and finding his hand instead.
She held him tightly, and he slept.
Sykkuno forgets about the movie in front of them, lost too far into his own thoughts and he doesn’t even realize his eyes have already fluttered shut. He’s rude for that. He should be enjoying the movie he was invited to watch, not resting his head against his friend’s shoulder, dozing off when there are barely twenty minutes left to watch.
Politeness forgotten, he loses consciousness.
.
The sun can’t get past Corpse’s thick curtains, and when Sykkuno opens his eyes into the dark room, the only thing he can sense is the warmth of Corpse’s arm against his stomach.
He can’t tell if it’s morning or afternoon. Corpse’s laptop is cold against his ankle. Sykkuno is strangely calm as he collects his thoughts.
“Corpse.” his voice is dry as he speaks. They’re both laying on the bed, bowl of popcorn toppled over forgotten about. He pushes himself up to a sitting position, feeling un-popped kernels under his fingers.
Corpse awakens with a sharp inhale, almost startled by Sykkuno’s movement.
“You awake?” Sykkuno stands, finally, stretching his arms up into the air, groaning softly. He walks to Corpse’s curtains, tugging lightly at them to only let a patch of light shine through. The sun is up at an angle that is an obvious indicator that they slept way into the day.
“I’ve never slept so hard in my life.” Corpse mumbles from under his hands, they rub at his eyes. His voice is extra deep at this hour.
“That’s good.” Sykkuno looks back at him, his arms gently folded over each other and tucked tightly against his chest, one of his signature stances. “I think you deserved it.” Corpse moves his hands away from his face, taking a look at Sykkuno with squinted eyes.
“Cute,” Corpse says.
Sykkuno fingers twitch.
“My face is swollen.” Sykkuno points at himself as a way of arguing against Corpse. It’s true, his cheeks and his lips feel strangely poofy this morning. His hair must be proving the theory of gravity wrong, and his sweatpants are pulled too high up his waist that his wrinkled shirt is partially tucked into them.
Corpse smiles a smile that Sykkuno doesn’t know what to do with, and then he turns to pick up his phone.
“Shit,” Corpse turns his phone to the other and shows him his screen. 4:56 it reads. “You had any plans?” he asks.
“Ah.” Sykkuno stares flatly at the numbers before him. It’s not the first time he’s wasted an entire day like this, but it doesn’t make it feel any better.
He leaves Corpse’s bedroom to get himself for the “day”, scratching his head at the look Corpse had given him.
He should go live today, he thinks.
.
“Let’s watch another one.” Corpse looks up from his phone for a split second when Sykkuno walks by his open door.
It’s three in the morning and neither of the two have made a move to get ready for bed.
“Another movie?” Sykkuno ponders on the idea.
“Yeah we should finish the popcorn, there’s like two bags left.” Corpse gets up from his chair, moving to clear his bed for the two of them.
“Okay.”
.
For the second night in a row, they’re straining their necks for a film they won’t even finish. Kid’s movies are always a good pick. Ponyo brings them back to when times were easier, when they didn’t have bills to pay or taxes to file. The colors are as beautiful as ever, and the music lulls the two of them into silence.
For the second night in a row, the two pass out next to each other, getting their much needed rest.
Sykkuno hates to admit how well he sleeps beside Corpse. Perhaps it’s the mattress change, or the warmth of Corpse’s body. He’s always loved having someone with him as he slept. A family member (Bimbus preferred) when he lived back home, Toast at the OTV house, or anyone who managed to end up next to him when he blacked out in hotel rooms after a night out.
He also hates to admit that his heart rate picks up every second Corpse spends next to him. He hates to admit the twist in his gut that some people might call “butterflies” but that, in reality, feels more like cramps after a bad plate of sushi. He hates it too much.
He wakes up the following day, a bit past noon this time. Their schedules are getting better.
Sykkuno remembered to put the bowl of popcorn on the bedroom floor before the two went to sleep. He makes a note to buy more.
He leaves Corpse to sleep, taking his time to glance at his friend’s sleeping face before closing the door behind him.
“ Cute. ” he thinks.
.
It’s their sixth night together. They’ve gotten so used to their routine that they start the movie after they’ve brushed their teeth and are ready for bed. They don’t eat popcorn anymore, two unopened boxes sitting inside a cabinet, and Sykkuno’s even brought his own pillow over to Corpse’s bed.
Sykkuno is trapped between that limbo stage of rest, where he can tell where he is and what high-action scene is playing under the orchestral soundtrack booming from the laptop, but with sleep only a few moments away. He’s faced away from Corpse, curled up with a blanket clutched between his hands.
“Sykkuno.” Corpse nudges his back with his elbow. The nudge is dull, muted by the fuzz in Sykkuno’s head. He tries to make a noise of attentiveness. In his head, he at least thinks he groaned a bit but in reality, he’s motionless, silent next to Corpse.
A pause. And then Corpse does it again.
A longer pause. And then-
“I like you.” Sykkuno hears. Corpse is far in the distance, voice almost an echo in Sykkuno’s mind.
Such a soft and genuine confession it is. In those three words, Sykkuno could pull out the fear, the tentativeness, but most importantly the fondness in his voice. Three words said with so much care as if Corpse was worried he would break them if he misspoke.
Sykkuno feels like smiling but his nose only twitches.
“I hope… I hope you’ve realized that by now.” Corpse whispers.
Corpse continues to speak long after Sykkuno can no longer make out what he’s saying.
The fog takes over, and Sykkuno is fast asleep.
.
Sykkuno wakes up to the sight of Corpse’s back faced towards him. There’s a small glow of light coming from the other side, from a cell phone, and he hears the soft tap of Corpse’s fingers on the screen.
He shifts, releasing a small noise from the back of his throat as he readjusts his position. He faces the ceiling, grey in the barely lit room, and stares silently.
“Cute.” he hears.
Corpse has turned around, phone dropped to the side, to look at him.
Sykkuno hides his face under the covers. He stays there until there’s a shift of weight beside him, and Corpse has gone into the bathroom to wash up. Sykkuno follows, leaving for his own bathroom.
He’s halfway through brushing his teeth when it hits him, the memories of the night before. He almost swallows the toothpaste foam and the hard plastic of his brush hits his gums. There’s a familiar burn on his face, it creeps downwards until his neck is prickling pink.
He stares at himself in the mirror, almost impressed at how flustered his face looks. He’s overwhelmed with his own self-consciousness.
How many times has Corpse noticed his weird little habits when Sykkuno thought no one was looking?
How many hints did he have to miss up to this point that he’s only just finding out?
How much time has he wasted not bothering to express his own feelings for Corpse?
Time. Maybe a couple of weeks, months, a year.
But Corpse hadn’t meant for him to find out, Sykkuno was wrong for not waking up sooner. Those words were for him, but not for him to listen to.
He spits, taking one last good look of himself in the mirror. He walks out, mind set on keeping this newfound information to himself.
.
“Can we watch Titanic tonight?” Corpse shouts from their couch as Sykkuno grabs a drink from the fridge just one room over.
“It’s three hours long!” Sykkuno shouts back in disbelief, shutting the fridge door.
“It’s not like we’re going to sit through the whole thing.”
It was about time they admitted it was never about the films.
Sykkuno pauses, meeting Corpse’s eyes across the distance between the two. He’s not close enough for Sykkuno to read the look on his face.
“So, yes?” Corpse asks.
“Yeah, why not?”
.
“This is one of my biggest fears, you know.” Sykkuno points at the screen where first-class passengers are hanging onto the ship’s railings for dear life. They’re more than halfway through the film, way longer than they thought they’d even be awake.
“What is?” Corpse shifts his pillow so that he’s almost completely laying on his back, “Freezing to death or sinking ships.”
“A little bit of both.” Sykkuno adjusts his own pillow a bit lower on the bed so that he can see the screen better.
“Don’t worry.” Corpse taps Sykkuno’s hand gently with the back of his own. Sykkuno has to stop himself from flinching. “We’d definitely make it out together if something like that happened. ‘Cause we’re just different.”
Corpse laughs lightly at his own words, filling in for Sykkuno’s silence.
“And if I’m alone?” Sykkuno asks without a thought. He always feels alone in his nightmares.
“You won’t be.” Corpse answers.
With that, they go quiet. Within minutes, Corpse’s light breathing fills the air, a rhythm that usually brings Sykkuno comfort.
Something eats at Sykkuno about Corpse’s answer to his question. He wouldn’t, in a million years, want to face something as terrible as that with him. Alone would be better, he’d go out knowing his friends were still safe, and that Corpse wouldn’t meet the same demise as him.
He thinks he’d physically fight Corpse if he even tried to stick with him in the unbelievably unlikely event they were to be stuck on the world’s largest sinking ship. “Stupid,” he’d call him. “Stupid,” he mumbles aloud, barely audible over the laptop’s speakers and noticeably loud whirring.
His mind whirs along with the overheated device pressed against his knee. His mind doesn’t stop when the movie finishes and the room’s gone silent and the laptop set itself into sleep mode.
He thinks about Corpse’s answer, about Corpse, about his nightmares, and then about Corpse again.
He thinks until the room lightens up just enough for him to see the outline of a body next to him, and the future in the room.
Sunrise.
Corpse stirs in his sleep and Sykkuno stares at him with tired eyes. He stares until Corpse’s features don’t look like Corpse anymore, until he’s a blob of colors that register into his brain as the man he might be possibly in love with.
Eventually, Sykkuno stands to get ready for the day, not bothering to check the time.
He wanders around their apartment, watching the sun slowly ascend as the earth did its spinny thing.
He’s back at Corpse’s doorway, finding him sitting up in bed with his bedhead and sleepy eyes that Sykkuno hates that he loves.
“Did you watch it to the end?” Corpse looks up at his friend and smiles softly. Sykkuno knows he looks like shit. He looks like someone who stayed up all night with minimal sleep and maximum stress - not someone who stayed up an extra hour or two the night before.
“I did,” he answers plainly, and he walks away before Corpse can say anything else.