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Sword had been dating Coil for exactly one month. Thirty days. Seven hundred and twenty hours. Over forty-three thousand minutes. And in that short, perfect, entirely too-good stretch of time, Sword had come to a very serious conclusion:
His boyfriend was so freaking cool.
Like- insanely cool. Stupidly cool. Unrealistically cool. The kind of cool that made Sword feel like the dorky sidekick in some cheesy action movie.
First off, Coil lived by himself in his own apartment. His. Own. Apartment. Not a dingy little house, not a rented room, not some sketchy abandoned complex- an actual, honest-to-goodness apartment. Meanwhile, Sword still lived with his dad. And his bird. And the bird’s attitude problem. (Sisyphus had an ego the size of the moon and no fear of plucking eyeballs, especially Sword’s.)
And money- oh, don’t get him started on that! Coil had money. Real, actual money. Sword had seen him, with his own eyes, walk up to the counter at a fast-food joint and order a whole combo meal without even blinking. A combo. With the drink. And fries. Sword could barely afford fries on their own, and even then, he had to seriously debate whether or not he could justify dipping into his “emergency funds” (aka the jar of loose change under his bed.)
But Coil? Coil could buy extra sauce. Extra sauce! Without even wondering if that twenty cents might make him bankrupt. Even worse, he’d do it without doing the mental math first!
Sword couldn’t believe it- he’d hit the dating jackpot! A cool, independent guy who clearly had his life together. No parents breathing down his neck, no squawking birds waking you up at the devil’s hour, no worries about burning a hole in his wallet.
Sure, there were a couple of weird things. Like how Sword was only ever invited over at oddly specific times of the day, never too early in the morning, and definitely not too late at night. And how Coil was weirdly insistent about which door Sword should come in through. And how, even after a whole month, Sword still wasn’t entirely sure where the bathroom towels were kept.
But hey- relationships had their quirks. Maybe Coil was just…private. Or tidy. Or one of those minimalist guys who didn’t like people rummaging around in his stuff. Totally normal. Totally fine.
And besides, Sword wasn’t about to question it when he was allowed to sit on the world’s comfiest couch, eat takeout he didn’t pay for, and have Coil next to him with that little smug half-smile that Sword liked way too much.
He really was the luckiest guy alive!
___
Coil invited Sword over again.
Of course, Sword said yes before Coil could even finish the sentence. He’d never turn down a chance to spend time at his boyfriend’s place- it was basically a little escape from his own totally fun and not at all miserable life!
But tonight…he decided to try his luck.
“Hey, um,” Sword started, rubbing the back of his neck, “could I maybe, you know…sleep over this time?”
Coil froze mid-step. And it wasn’t even a little pause- it was full body stillness, like someone had hit a pause button on him!
Slowly, so slowly, he turned around, eyes narrowing in a way that made Sword wonder if he’d just asked something really scandalous.
“...Are you sure?” Coil asked. His tone was light, but there was this edge to it.
“Yeah!” Sword nodded, maybe a little too quickly. “Totally sure.”
“Won’t your dad kill you?”
Sword shrugged. “I’m an adult now. It’s no biggie.” (He was lying through his teeth)
There was a long silence. Coil tilted his head, studying him like he was trying to read something in his face.
“...Are you sure ?” he asked again, slower this time.
“Yes!!!” Sword nodded even harder, as if enthusiasm alone could convince him.
Coil let out a deep, drawn-out sigh, rubbing at his temple before muttering, “...Fine. Come on.”
And that was that.
They walked down the streets of Crossroads together, the sky dimming into that in-between time where the streetlights hummed but it wasn’t fully dark yet. Eventually, Coil led them into the usual alley-way- a narrow, dingy stretch between two old buildings. Sword didn’t even flinch at the peeling brick walls or the overflowing trash cans. This was tradition. Romance, even!
At the end of the alley was the back door. Coil unlocked it and, like always, stepped aside to let Sword go in first. Sword’s heart fluttered. Oh my god my boyfriend is really cool what a gentleman!!!!!!!
Inside, the air was faintly dusty, and the light was dim except for the warm glow of the kitchen nearby. Sword grinned, already picturing them curled up on the couch later.
But then Coil cleared his throat.
“If you’re sleeping over,” he said, “you have to be asleep by seven.”
Sword blinked. “Seven? It’s…five.”
“Yup.”
Sword frowned. “What’s with the curfew?”
Coil’s smile was…strained. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about it..!” Then, before Sword could ask again, Coil put his hands on his shoulders and started guiding him toward the basement.
“Wait-”
“Don’t question it,” Coil said firmly, giving him one last gentle push into the shadows below.
Sword, of course, didn’t question it.
His boyfriend was just that awesome!
___
Skateboard would consider himself a pretty lucky guy.
He had his own little apartment- small, sure, but it was his. It smelled faintly like dust no matter how much he cleaned, the paint was peeling in a few spots, and the kitchen sink had an annoying drip he kept meaning to fix, but it was home.
He had company, too- Coil had been staying over for a while now. “Temporary,” Coil had called it at first, but temporary had a way of turning into “eh…indefinite.” Skateboard didn’t mind. Coil paid for his own snacks, didn’t make too much noise, and could even be good company on the right day.
He didn’t really have much to worry about. His rent was manageable, phights covered the basics, and the little dramas in his life were usually nothing more than the complications that came with hiding Coil from the government. A stable, easy rhythm- that’s how he liked it.
That is…until now.
It started about two minutes ago. Two minutes, because that’s how long it had taken him to get inside. He’d been stuck at the door, digging through his jacket pockets and then his backpack before realizing the keys were in his hand the entire time (not his proudest moment.)
Once inside, he notices the place was quiet, which was….unexpected? Normally, if Coil wasn’t talking, there was still noise- TV, music, the faint clatter of him rummaging through cabinets like a raccoon. But the couch was empty, no food wrappers in sight, no shoes tossed haphazardly by the door.
Fine, whatever. Coil could do his own thing. He was old enough to make his own decisions.
….Well, “smart decisions” was really pushing it. But at least somewhat logical ones. Sometimes.
Still, Skateboard didn’t think much of it- until he noticed the back door.
It was wide open. Not just cracked, not ajar- WIDE open, letting in the oh so cold evening air. The curtain fluttered lazily like it was mocking him. And there, right on the threshold, were ants. Tiny scouts, already marching in neat little lines like they were preparing for the invasion of the century.
“Oh, for-” Skateboard crossed the room and slammed it shut, muttering about buying ant traps.
That’s when he heard them. Voices. Muffed, low, coming from the basement.
He stopped, listening. It wasn’t unusual for Coil to hang out down there, after all, he technically did live there, BUT there was definitely someone else speaking. He couldn’t make out the words, just the murmur of conversation.
“Coil!” he called, raising his voice enough to carry.
The voices cut off instantly. Dead silence.
Skateboard’s eyebrows furrowed. That was…weird.
After a beat, Coil’s voice floated up, just a little too casual. “Yeah? What’s up?”
“Nothing,” Skateboard said, frowning slightly. “Just checking up on you. Dude, did you seriously use the back door and forget to close it?”
There was a pause. A long one. Long enough that Skateboard shifted his weight and glanced toward the kitchen clock.
“...Yeaaahhh,” Coil finally said, quick and clipped. “Just forgot.”
Skateboard snorted. “Well don’t forget next time, idiot. We don’t need ants moving in.”
“Uh-huh. Mhm. Got it.”
Satisfied enough, he shrugged and headed upstairs. Whatever Coil was doing down there wasn’t his business- probably talking to the TV or something else equally as dumb.
He sank into the couch with a sigh, thinking about how nice it was to have a place like this. A warm little apartment, an easy life…
Yeah. He really was a lucky guy.
___
A few minutes earlier, Sword had been perfectly content, sunk into the sagging embrace of the dingy couch in the basement. It wasn’t the prettiest piece of furniture- there was a tear in one armrest and it smelled faintly like laundry detergent mixed with dust- but it was their couch. Their spot. And Sword liked that.
Coil was next to him, close enough that their knees touched, and Sword was enjoying the moment in his usual way- by thinking wow I have such a cool boyfriend- when suddenly, without warning, Coil’s hand clamped over his mouth.
It wasn’t rough, but it was firm, pulling him in until his side was pressed tight to Coil’s chest.
Now, normally, Sword would have classified this under “romantic surprises.” Hand over his mouth? Kinda mysterious. Pulled in close? Definitely romantic. The warm steadiness of Coil’s arm around him? Yeahhh, this was the stuff.
Except…Coil wasn’t looking at him. His eyes were angled sharply upward, toward the ceiling. And his voice, low and quick against Sword’s ear, carried a completely different weight than what he would’ve preferred:
“Please stay quiet.”
That’s when Sword heard it- a voice, faint but distinct, from somewhere above.
He hadn’t even noticed it before; he’d been too busy basking in the warmth of the moment. But now the sound made his chest tighten. Someone was in the house?
Coil didn’t let go, even as the voice called out again, muffled through the floorboards. He muttered something back- too soft for Sword to catch (his ears were also somewhat covered by his arm)- and they both went still.
Sword could feel his heartbeat in his ears. His instincts told him to ask questions, but Coil’s grip said don’t even think about it.
The voice upstairs spoke once more. Coil replied again, calm but quick, then…silence. The sound of footsteps moving away.
Only then did Coil ease his hand from Sword’s mouth, his arm loosening to Sword could sit up.
“Who was that?” Sword asked immediately, keeping his voice low out of habit.
Coil turned to him with the most exaggerated look of confusion Sword had ever seen. “Whaaaaat? Who’s what?”
“The voice upstairs,” Sword pressed, raising an eyebrow.
“What voice???”
“...The one that was just talking to you.”
“Oh, that.” Coil waved a hand like it was nothing. “Probably just came from the TV, y’know?”
Sword blinked at him. Then slowly turned his gaze to the TV.
Which was very much off.
“...Or next door!” Coil added suddenly, his voice just a little too cheerful. “Yeah, the walls are thin here, like really thin.”
Sword’s frown softened into understanding. “Ohhhh. Yeah, you’re right.”
Coil nodded- enthusiastically, like he was agreeing with himself. “Exactly.”
Sword smiled at him. He didn’t know why Coil had been so jumpy, but if his boyfriend said it was nothing, then it was nothing!
“Hey,” Coil said, his voice shifting to something lighter, “you want something to eat?”
Sword felt his face heat. “I…wouldn’t mind.”
“Good.” Coil smirked as he stood, stretching lazily before shoving his hands in his pockets. “I’ll grab you a snack from upstairs.”
Sword nodded, leaning back against the couch. Man…his boyfriend was so thoughtful. Not only was he letting Sword stay over, but he was getting him food too!
Best boyfriend ever.
___
Skateboard was hungry.
Not the kind of hungry where you think, eh, maybe I’ll snack later. No- this was the gnawing, pit-of-your-stomach kind of hungry that made him aware of every single food commercial he’d seen in the past week.
So he finally dragged himself downstairs toward the kitchen, yawning mid-step.
What he didn’t really expect was to find Coil there. Or, more specifically- Coil making two sandwiches.
Weird.
Sure, Coil had, like, a massive appetite sometimes, but two sandwiches? That wasn’t really normal. If he was really hungry, he would’ve just bought two combos for himself. And the way he was working- fast, focused, like he was on a deadline- made Skateboard slow his steps just enough to watch.
“Hey,” Skateboard greeted, leaning against the doorway.
Coil jerked slightly, then looked over his shoulder. “Oh- hey.” His voice was a little too quick.
Skateboard frowned. Coil was usually the definition of laid-back, drawling his words, smirking at dumb jokes- but right now? He sounded…nervous.
“What’s up with you?” Skateboard asked, squinting at him. “You’ve been off all day.”
“I’m fine.” Coil didn’t even turn around, just went right back to spreading mustard.
“You sure?” Skateboard tilted his head, trying to catch his expression. “C’mon man, you can tell me anything.”
“Yeah, I know.” Coil chuckled, but it sounded more like a forced cough. “But seriously dude, nothing’s wrong. Unless- um. You count being really, really hungry. Haha…!”
Skateboard didn’t laugh. He kept watching, but Coil stayed turned away, moving with that weird, restless energy.
Eventually, Skateboard sighed. “...Fine.” He stepped back, letting Coil finish. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe Coil was just having one of his days.
But something still nagged him.
When Coil finished, he grabbed both sandwiches and started walking toward the basement door. Skateboard trailed after him without thinking.
“What are you doing?” Coil suddenly snapped, spinning halfway around.
“I thought I could hang down here with you,” Skateboard said, raising an eyebrow.
“Dude, no. Go upstairs to your own room.”
“Wow, so I can’t hang out with my buddy anymore?”
“No, you can’t,” Coil said firmly- too firmly- and before Skateboard could react, Coil gave him a shove backward and darted down the stairs, sandwiches in hand.
The door shut with a click.
Skateboard stood there for a long second, frowning deeply.
“...Fine.” He scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Don’t need company anyway.”
He’d just…call Slingshot and Boombox later. Yeah. That was fine. Totally fine.
___
Sword’s eyes lit up the moment Coil emerged from the stairs.
Two plates. Two sandwiches. One carefully balanced on each.
“Here,” Coil said simply, handing one over like it was nothing.
Like it wasn’t the nicest, most romantic thing in the world.
Sword accepted it with both hands, staring down at the perfectly layered bread like it was an offering from the heavens. “You didn’t have to-”
“I wanted to,” Coil interrupted, flopping onto the couch beside him. The cushions dipped under his weight drawing them instinctively closer together.
Sword bit into the sandwich and made a small, muffed sound of delight. The bread was fresh, soft as clouds, and the fillings were just the right mix- though, honestly, Coil could’ve sapped a single pickle between two crackers and Sword would’ve been over the moon.
The TV flickered to life as Coil thumbed the remote, the screen’s pale light washing over them both. They didn’t sit stiff or distant; they leaned in naturally, shoulders brushing, thighs pressed together. Sword shifted a little, and their horns bumped with a quiet clink .
He laughed. Coil’s smirk quirked. Another playful nudge followed, horn against horn, until Sword giggled again and finally settled in, warm and content.
If there was a better way to spend an evening, Sword couldn’t think of it.
Upstairs, Skateboard was pacing his bedroom like a man who’d had three too many coffees.
“-so he shoves me back, right? Tells me I can’t go down there. Like, at all.”
On the other end of the line, Boombox sounded more entertained than concerned. “Maybe he’s got a secret underground lab?”
“Funny,” Skateboard muttered, running a hand through his hair.
Boombox didn’t let up. “Alright, what about a dungeon? Or- hear me out- a serial killer he's hiding down there.”
There was a pause. A long one.
“...That’d explain the sandwiches,” Skateboard said slowly.
Boombox laughed, but Skateboard wasn’t. He stared downstairs like it had personally offended him.
“Man, what if-” His tone dropped, suddenly grim. “What if he’s the one in trouble? What if someone’s got him down there? What if he’s being held hostage?!”
“By the serial killer I said he might be hiding?” Boombox said dryly.
“Look, both things can be true.”
Boombox snorted. “So what, you think there’s this dangerous mystery stranger in your basement who’s also somehow keeping Coil prisoner?”
“I’m not ruling anything out,” Skateboard said, narrowing his eyes.
He’d always thought of Coil as strong- and he is, of course! But now, with the image planted firmly in his head, he wasn’t so sure.
And if Coil was in trouble…then that meant it was on him to do something about it!
___
They’d been sprawled together for a while, the TV playing that cheerful cartoon jingle that Sword had grown embarrassingly fond of during their time together. The couch cushions sagged just enough to make it feel like they were sinking into a shared little world, and Sword kept sneaking glances at Coil when he thought he wouldn't notice.
They’d watched two whole episodes like that, Sword occasionally laughing too loud and Coil occasionally nudging him with his knee when he caught him grinning like an idiot.
But then, just as the third episode reached the funny part, Coil reached forward and plucked the remote off the coffee table. Click.
The TV blinked off, the sudden dimness making the basement feel smaller. Sword blinked at him in confusion.
“What’d you do that for?”
“It’s time,” Coil said simply.
Sword tilted his head. “Time for-” Then it hit him. Oh. The “bedtime.” The weird, unquestioned seven o’clock cutoff. He’d glanced at the clock on the wall- 6:59, to be exact.
“Oh. Right.” Sword said softly, trying not to sound too disappointed.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Coil stated, already rising off the couch.
Sword hesitated, fiddling with the edge of the couch blanket before blurting out, “Hey, um…would it be okay if…I maybe…slept with you?”
Coil raised a brow but didn’t look started. “You mean like- on the floor?”
“No! Not there!” Sword squeaked, then immediately winced. “I mean just- y’know, next to you. On the couch.”
Coil gave a small, almost amused shrug. “Sure.”
Relief spread through Sword’s chest like a warm cup of tea.
Coil sat back down, and Sword scooted over, settling against Coil’s side until their legs brushed. Coil adjusted without a word, tugging the blanket over both of them and draping an arm lazily around Sword. His hand was warm and heavy, like an anchor.
Sword rested his head against Coil’s shoulder, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. Their horns touched briefly with a muted sound, and Coil didn’t pull away- he just leaned in just enough so that they stayed there, horn to horn.
Sword smiled into the quiet. “This is nice,” he murmured, the words sipping out before he could stop them.
Coil made a low, content sound in his chest. “Yeah. It is.”
They didn’t talk much after that. The basement was dim, the air vent humming above them, and Sword could feel the slow, drowsy weight of sleep beginning to tug at his eyelids. Coil’s warmth was steady and familiar beside him, and he let himself believe- just for a moment- that there was nothing outside this couch, no reason to ever move.
Upstairs, however, a very different mood was brewing.
Skateboard was still pacing his room, arms crossed, muttering to himself about “weird behavior” and a “shady appetite.”
But downstairs, Sword had already decided- this was, without question, the safest, coziest place in the entire world.
___
The next time Sword opened his eyes, it wasn’t to the glow of the TV or the comfort of Coil’s arm draped lazily over him.
It was to the sound of snoring.
Loud, obnoxious, window-rattling snoring. The kind that rose and fell like a badly-tuned motor, paired with the faint drip drip of drool hitting the couch cushion.
Sword groaned softly, rubbing his face. The air was colder now, the basement shadows darker and heavier.
He glanced toward the clock on the far wall.
4:03 a.m.
His stomach sank. Oh, man. If he didn’t get home soon, his dad was gonna kill him. Well- not literally, but the lecture was bad enough to wish otherwise.
Coil was starfished across the couch, mouth open, snoring like a freight train. Sword hesitated, debating whether to wake him, but…he seemed so peaceful. Or, well, as peaceful as someone could be while sawing logs.
He carefully slid out from under the blanket, moving so slow as to not wake him, and padded toward the stairs.
The upper floor was…different at night.
Quiet in a way that definitely wasn’t comfortable.
The kind of quiet where every creak of the floorboards sounded like a gunshot. The kind where the shadows in the corners seemed just a little too deep.
Sword made it to the top of the basement steps and froze.
Something had moved in the corner of his eye.
He turned sharply, but saw nothing. The apartment looked still, lifeless- except for the creeping feeling up his spine.
“...Hello?” he whispered.
No answer.
Sword’s hand instinctively twitched, and with a muted flicker of light, his blade materialized in his grip. He held it tight to his chest, pulse starting to quicken.
The further he went, the worse it got. Furniture loomed like strange silhouettes. Every shift of shadow made him tense. His steps were slow, cautious, the floor groaning under each one.
He rounded the corner toward the kitchen-
And slammed straight into someone.
Both of them screamed.
On pure impulse, Sword swung the hilt of his blade up and cracked it against the figure’s neck.
The body went limp instantly, dropping to the floor with a heavy thud .
Sword stumbled back, chest heaving, blade still raised.
“What the-” He cut himself off, heart pounding in his ears, and called out- loud, almost panicked-
“Coil?!”
___
Coil was in the middle of a very nice dream about winning a lifetime supply of Slingshot’s pastries. They were golden. Perfectly decorated. Served in a giant, bottomless paper bag. He was about to take his first bite when-
“Coil!?”
He groaned, rolling over. “Five more minutes…”
“Coil!”
Ugh. No pastry was worth this. He pried one bleary eye open and immediately registered two things:
- The space beside him on the couch was empty.
2. That was not a good sign.
Dragging himself upright with the grace of a wet mop, Coil shuffled toward the stairs.
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he got to the top- maybe Sword rummaging in the fridge, or staring at a lamp like it had just told him a secret.
What he wasn’t expecting was:
Sword.
Holding his blade.
Standing over the limp, crumpled body of Skateboard.
Coil froze mid-step. “...Is he dead?”
Sword’s eyes went wide. “No! I- he- he scared me! I panicked!”
Coil nodded very slowly, his brain trying to boot up past 7% capacity. “Okay. Alright. Cool. Um…”
They stood there for a beat. The house was so quiet you could hear the fridge hum.
Then Skateboard groaned. His fingers twitched.
Coil squinted. “Oh, good, he’s alive-”
“ Killer!! ” Skateboard suddenly yelped, bolting upright like someone had just plugged him in. He dove at Coil, wrapping around him like a terrified koala.
“Hey- what- stop!” Coil flailed, shoving him off. “That’s my partner!”
Skateboard stumbled back, eyes bugging. “ That’s your partner?! Why is your partner in my apartment?!”
Sword blinked. “ My apartment ?” He turned to Coil. “Wait. It’s not your apartment?”
Skateboard whipped his head toward Coil. “ YOU TOLD YOUR PARTNER THIS WAS YOUR APARTMENT?!”
“I-”
“After an entire month, Coil-”
“Hold on-” Skateboard jabbed a finger at him, “-what do you mean you’ve been sneaking your partner in for a month?!”
“I haven’t been-”
“Oh my god,” Sword gasped, looking between them, “I’ve been breaking into someone else’s house this entire time?”
Coil’s voice pitched up. “No, you haven’t- well- technically yes, but-”
“This explains so much!” Skateboard threw his hands in the air. “The missing snacks! The weird voices! The fact you keep locking me out of my own basement-”
“I did not lock you out, I just…heavily suggested you not go down there.”
“By shoving me up the stairs!”
“-Because you wouldn’t stop asking questions!”
Sword looked between them like he was watching the best soap opera of his life.
Coil closed his eyes. Took a deep, deep breath. He was going to need so many snacks after this.
___
Coil pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep, saintly breath that he absolutely did not feel. “Okay, everyone just calm down-”
“So wait,” Sword cut in immediately, eyes wide. “You’ve been…sneaking me into your house this whole time?”
“It’s not my house,” Coil said through gritted teeth.
“It’s MYapartment ,” Skateboard butted in, finger stabbing toward his own chest.
Sword’s gaze ping-ponged between them. “Wait. Then..who’s place have I been in?”
“Mine,” Skateboard said again.
“You’ve been in mine,” Coil corrected, “because I live here.”
“You live in my basement!” Skateboard snapped.
“Semantics,” Coil said with a dismissive wave.
“Not semantics!” Skateboard’s voice cracked. “That’s literally the definition of the situation!”
Sword’s jaw dropped. “So…all this time…I thought you were inviting me over to your place, but actually, you were just-” He pointed vaguely at the ceiling. “-borrowing it?”
Coil groaned. “It’s not borrowing if I live here .”
“In the basement,” Skateboard reminded.
“The basement is still technically part of the house!”
“Yeah, but you don’t own the house!”
“Oh my god,” Sword said softly, eyes going huge, “you’ve been breaking me in!”
“ Exactly ! See? Even he gets it!” Skateboard shouted, throwing his arms wide like a lawyer revealing the smoking gun. “You’ve been smuggling your boyfriend into MY home like some kind of-” He made vague air quotes. “-romantic raccoon!”
Coil turned, deeply offended. “I’m not a raccoon.”
“Dude, you come in through the back door, only show up after dark, and leave behind food wrappers. You are a raccoon with rent privileges.”
Sword covered his mouth, shoulders shaking with barely-suppressed laughter. “I mean…that is true-”
“Sword?!” Coil whirled on him.
“What? I love it!”
Skateboard groaned, dragging both hands down his face. “Do you hear yourselves right now? I’m up at four in the morning because I thought there was a serial killer, and instead I walk into-” he gestured wildly between them “- whatever this is.”
“It’s called a relationship,” Sword said firmly.
“It’s called breaking and entering!” Skateboard shot back.
“It’s called me living here,” Coil argued for the third time, like maybe repetition would make it true in Skateboard’s head.
“Oh yeah?” Skateboard crossed his arms. “Then why do you only bring him over when I’m not home?”
“Because you’re annoying when I’m trying to watch cartoons and cuddle.”
Sword perked up at that. “Aw. That’s actually kinda sweet.”
“Sweet?!” Skateboard’s voice cracked again. “This is literally illegal -”
“It’s not illegal-” Coil started.
“It feels illegal,” Sword added helpfully.
Skateboard spun toward him. “YOU! You’re just as bad as he is!”
“I mean,” Sword said with a tiny shrug, “if he’d just told me from the start. ‘Hey Sword, wanna sneak into my roommate’s apartment and watch cartoons?’ I would’ve said yes! How could I not?”
Both Coil and Skateboard stared at him.
“What?” Sword blinked innocently. “I like adventure!”
Coil turned back to Skateboard with the smuggest little smirk. “See? This is why he’s the one-”
“You’re insane ,” Skateboard muttered, storming toward the kitchen.
“Love you too!” Coil called after him.
Sword leaned in, grinning- but also completely forgetting why he came out here in the first place. “So…are we going back to bed?”
Coil grinned back. “Obviously.”
___
Morning came far too brightly for Skateboard’s liking, sunlight stabbing through the blinds like it had a personal grudge. He sat at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee, glaring at the basement door like it had insulted his mother.
Footsteps creaked on the stairs, and Sword emerged looking far too cheerful for someone who, in Skateboard’s mind, had committed blatant trespassing just hours before.
“Oh, you’re awake!” Sword said, smiling like the walking embodiment of sunshine. “Thanks for the hospitality!”
Skateboard’s jaw tightened. “Yeah. Haha. About that-” He stood, setting his coffee down with a firm clunk . “You should probably…y’know. Leave. Now. Please.”
“Oh, I was going to,” Sword said breezily, like they were in total agreement. “Gotta get home before my dad starts asking questions.”
The perfect calm in his voice made Skateboard’s temple twitch. “Good,” he said tightly, already gesturing toward the front door. “Then let’s-”
Sword wasn’t even looking at him anymore. He’d turned toward the basement stairs, calling softly, “Coil?”
Coil shuffled up, hair a mess, looking like someone who hadn’t yet discovered the concept of mornings. Sword smiled, stepped in, and without a second thought, kissed him on the cheek.
“See you later?” Sword asked, his voice all soft edges.
Coil mumbled, “Yeah, yeah…Text me. Or, um. Meet me by the fountain,” before leaning into him for a quick peck on the lips.
Skateboard’s jaw dropped. “You’re making out in my kitchen.”
“It was one kiss,” Coil said.
“It was two ,” Skateboard corrected, scandalized. “And you’re doing it right in front of me like I don’t even live here- oh wait, that’s right, apparently you do too!”
Sword just waved cheerfully as he headed for the door. “Bye Skateboard! Nice meeting you!”
Skateboard’s had clenched into a fist. “This isn’t a meeting, this is an eviction notice-” he shouted after him, but the front door had already closed.
Coil yawned and turned to grab cereal from the cabinet like nothing had happened.
Skateboard stared at him. “Do you…do you even hear me when I talk?”
“Not before noon,” Coil said, pouring himself a bowl.
Skateboard sat back down hard in his chair, seething as he watched his now unwanted roommate eat breakfast like he owned the place.
Extremely pissed didn’t even begin to cover it.