Archive of Our Own

“I want to record tonight,” Skeppy said into his microphone, adjusting it for the umpteenth time. His computer screen was emitting a gentle glow; he kept his office pretty dark to keep it colder in there. It was too early in the warm weather to have his AC on, and his fan was only so good for it being the beginning of spring. His Minecraft window was open but not full screen on his second monitor as his first monitor held the TeamSpeak call he was in. They both had their cameras on, and the call time placed it as starting two days prior. 

“After your dentist appointment?” Bad’s voice filled Skeppy’s ears in a gentle melody that soothed every ache and pain that dared try to enter Skeppy’s life. With Bad around, everything was okay. Everything was right. Everything was real. Even their distance - the one plague they both suffered at the hands of - was okay, because they had each other. They loved each other. 

“Yeah, I’m contemplating on what I wanna do.” Skeppy said, running around his Minecraft server’s map, like he usually did when he was bored. “We could do a 100 kids challenge?” Skeppy asked, having an uncertain tone. “Well- we haven’t done one in a while and now that I think about it… my channel moved away from those for a while and I’m not sure if they’re ready to make a comeback.”


“I’m okay with whatever you want. Bedwars is also an option.” Bad said and Skeppy hummed.


“I’ll think about it at my dentist appointment and call you when I get home and figure it out.” 

“Okay!” Bad said, before typing away at something. Skeppy full-screened his Minecraft and they fell into a comfortable silence. They didn’t always need words, just each other. Just the comfort of being in love and enjoying each other’s company. Maybe the long comfortable silences made up for the distance. 

After about 20 minutes, Skeppy finally spoke up, “Baby,”

“Mmm? Yes, Sweetheart?” Bad stopped typing as his full attention went back to his boyfriend. 

“I love you.” Skeppy said, sweetly.

“And I love you.” Bad responded, just as sweet.

Skeppy was home now and laying in his yard as gentle rain fell over his skin and soaked into his clothes. 

“One day… We should slow dance in the rain.” Skeppy’s gentle voice filled the air around their usual sleep call. He wasn’t sure if Bad was even still awake after their long beat of silence. 

“I would love to.” Bad muttered, half asleep. Skeppy whispered a good night and Bad managed to mumble half of one before passing out. Skeppy was quick to follow. It was always easier for them both to sleep in each other’s company. It would probably be even easier without the distance. 

The rain helped him think. Usually about his relationship and the sometimes overwhelming amount of love he has for his boyfriend. Skeppy decided he wanted to just play Bedwars and maybe find some way to troll Bad- or they can make it a challenge where the loser has to change their skin or some bullshit like that. He and Bad will figure it out later. 

Skeppy called Bad after 10 minutes of laying in the rain and stood up heading into his house. “Let’s meet up again.” 

“What?”

“Let’s meet up again. It doesn’t have to be like… tomorrow, but soon. I miss you, and you probably miss me, and it’s been like years now. Like 2.” Skeppy was pleading. The distance was only growing between them as days dragged on without seeing each other. Skeppy had offered the idea of moving in together over and over until the rejection got to be too harsh to bear that many times. 

“...Skeppy…” Bad whispered, holding his phone tighter in his hand. “I love you.”

Every night,

“But?”

“And I miss you. And I want to meet up-”

 I live and die 

“So let’s do it.” Skeppy interrupted. “Let’s not keep each other from each other. Not when we love each other so much. Not when the distance is this unbearable.” Skeppy started drying his hair with a towel after he changed into dry clothing. His voice was imploring as he spoke, begging for his boyfriend to agree to another meetup. 

“In 4 months.” Bad said, tone soft and honest. “I just- I can’t do it any sooner.” 

“I’ll buy your plane ticket! Just figure out an exact date later!” Skeppy couldn’t contain his excitement. Bad was still holding on to his skepticality. “Ready for Bedwars?”

“Yeah!” Finally, Bad was excited, too. 

Skeppy hit his vape as he and HannahRose walked along the pier. Hannah was eating some fries with ketchup on them, using a fork. The fairy lights tied from pole to pole were drowning out the stars in the sky. The moon was new and not visible to the eye, so the stars were the only natural light that night. 

Skeppy’s eyes were trained up on the sky as they walked. “The stars are soulmates.” 

“What?” Hannah asked, stopping her walk at the edge of the pier where the stars were brighter and the lights were dimmer. 

“When one soulmate dies, they form a star in the sky where they wait in the perfect place for their soulmate to join them and then the star burns and burns until it explodes from the love they once shared so they can be resurrected and reunited.” Hannah thinks that’s the most profound thing Skeppy has ever said. 

“Wow, that’s beautiful. Have you told Bad this before?” Skeppy shrugged. 

“Not really. It never comes up in conversation.” Hannah frowned and went back to eating her fries. Skeppy would only vape if there was no one down wind of him. They returned to their silence, just enjoying the stars. 

-

The drive back from the pier was mostly quiet, the soft rhythm of the tires doing little to clear the heavy, stargazing thoughts from Skeppy’s head. By the time he pulled into the driveway, the sky was still a pitch-black canvas, the new moon keeping the night thick and dark.

Inside, the house was silent, save for the faint glow of the kitchen lights. Sapnap was already waiting out on the back patio, the glass bong resting on the outdoor table. He looked up as the sliding door clicked open, nodding a greeting.

"How was the pier?" Sapnap asked, leaning back into the lounge chair as he packed the bowl.

"Good. Cold," Skeppy muttered, sliding into the seat opposite him. He pulled his legs up, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes immediately drifting past the patio roof to the open sky above the yard. Away from the boardwalk’s fairy lights, the stars were sharper here. Piercing. “The stars are beautiful.” 

Sapnap flicked his lighter, the flame illuminating the dark patio for a few seconds as he took a slow, deep hit. He cleared the chamber, exhaled a thick cloud of white smoke, and tilted his head back to look up. "Yeah, you're right. It's totally clear out. It's nice." He slid the piece across the table toward Skeppy. "Your turn. You look like you're a million miles away, dude."

Feel the party to my bones 

Skeppy took the lighter, pulling the smoke deep into his lungs. The familiar, heavy heat blossomed in his chest, relaxing his tight shoulders almost instantly. As he blew the smoke out into the night, watching it swirl towards the palm trees, he felt the tightly wound edges of his mind start to loosen.

"How are things at the house?" Skeppy asked, his voice a little lower, a little lazier as the high began to settle in. "Everyone doing good?"

"Yeah, things are actually really good right now," Sapnap smiled, stowing the lighter in his pocket. "Everyone's just chilling, getting stuff done. It's a good vibe."

Skeppy nodded, staring at the smoke drifting into the air. "That's awesome. Honestly... Dream and I need to hang out soon. It's been a minute."

"Dude, absolutely," Sapnap agreed, leaning forward. "He'd love that. You guys should definitely set something up."

"Put in a good word for me, will you?" Skeppy chuckled softly, a relaxed grin breaking through his pensive mood. "Tell him I'm down whenever he is."

"I gotchu, man. I'll tell him as soon as I get back," Sapnap promised. He paused, watching Skeppy's eyes drift right back up to the silver pinpricks in the sky. The silence stretched between them, heavier this time. "You're still thinking about Bad, aren't you?"

Skeppy let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-sigh. Usually, he’d deflect. Usually, he’d crack a joke or put up his usual trolling guard. But the weed was hitting his bloodstream fast, turning his thoughts slow and syrupy, melting away his usual defenses and leaving his chest feeling completely exposed.

"It’s just stupid, Sap," Skeppy whispered, his voice cracking slightly in the quiet yard. "The distance. It’s just... it's so heavy tonight."

Sapnap’s demeanor shifted into something softer, fiercely supportive. "It sucks, dude. I know it does."

"No, it really hurts," Skeppy corrected gently, the drug allowing him to be entirely honest about the ache he usually kept hidden. He looked down at his hands, his throat tight. "The loneliness is just a lot right now. I hate going to sleep in an empty room, knowing he's states away. I hate that I can only hear his voice through a headset. It makes everything feel so far off, and tonight it just... it really stings."

Sapnap stayed quiet, letting Skeppy just speak his piece, giving him the safe space to let the walls down. He reached over, placing a grounding, brotherly hand on Skeppy's shoulder. "I hear you, man. It's okay to feel like that. But you guys always find your way back to each other. It's always worth it."

"I know," Skeppy murmured, wiping a hand over his face. He looked back up at the sky, the vulnerability still raw in his eyes, but the weight felt a fraction lighter just having said it out loud.

"I'm gonna go crash on the couch," Sapnap said softly after a few more minutes of quiet solidarity, giving Skeppy's shoulder a gentle squeeze before standing up. "Don't stay out here all night, alright? It looks like it's gonna pour."

"Yeah. In a minute," Skeppy replied.

The sliding door clicked shut, leaving Skeppy entirely alone in the dark. 

The afternoon sun was relentless, baking the Florida asphalt until it practically shimmered with heat waves. After the heavy, vulnerable fog of the night before, Skeppy needed to clear his head, and there was only one cure he knew that actually worked.

He walked into his ten-car garage, past the neon-yellow car that always made his heart ache for Bad, and stopped in front of his light blue Lamborghini. The color was crisp, sharp, and perfectly mirrored the clear coastal sky.

Skeppy slid into the driver’s seat, the cool leather a welcome relief against the outside heat. He tapped the steering wheel, took a quick pull from his vape, and fired up the ignition. The V8 engine roared to life, a thunderous, mechanical growl that echoed off the garage walls and instantly sent a jolt of pure adrenaline straight through his chest.

He hit the garage door opener, jammed the car into gear, and accelerated out into the blinding afternoon light. He turned his music up as loud as the speakers would allow. 

Watch the wasters blow the speakers 

Within minutes, he was hitting the highway on-ramp, the twin-turbo engine screaming as he opened it up on the straightaway. The windows were rolled all the way down, the hot, salty wind whipping through his hair and drowning out everything else in the world. He turned up the music, letting a heavy bassline blast through the speakers, completely enveloping himself in the sensory overload.

This was his sanctuary.

Driving the light blue supercar felt different than driving the yellow one. The yellow car belonged to his quiet longings, to the domestic future he was building with Bad. But the blue one? The blue one was entirely his. It was fast, loud, and unapologetic.

He seamlessly wove through the sparse daytime traffic, the high-performance tires gripping the asphalt with effortless precision as he took a sweeping curve toward the coast. He looked out the driver's side window, catching the blurred horizon where the highway ran parallel to the glittering Atlantic Ocean. The water was the exact same shade of brilliant blue as the hood of his car.

Skeppy took another pull from his vape, watching the thick white smoke get instantly ripped away by the rushing wind, vanishing into the atmosphere.

The heavy, suffocating loneliness from last night - the ache of the distance, the raw vulnerability he had confessed to Sapnap - started to break apart under the sheer speed. The sting was still there, buried deep down, but right now, with his hands gripping the wheel and the engine roaring at his back, he felt grounded. He felt alive.

Spill my guts beneath the outdoor light 

He shifted gears with a sharp, practiced flick of his wrist, letting the car surge forward into the open expanse of the empty highway. He was still counting down the days until Bad arrived, still waiting to fill those empty spaces in his home, but as he flew down the Florida coast under the brilliant blue sky, he knew he was going to be just fine.

 
Skeppy ignored his ringing phone in his pocket as he laid in the rain trying to catch a glimpse of the stars. And with each one he saw, he reached a hand out like he could catch the ball of flame. 

It's just another graceless night

The phone rang again a few minutes later and he answered it, letting his train of thought melt into the grass below. “Hello, my love.” 

“Hello, sweetheart. Wanna join my stream in an hour? It’s been months since we’ve streamed together and people are saying we broke up.” Bad and Skeppy both laughed at Bad’s words. 

“They’re idiots.” The two had been together so long that they felt like they didn’t need to be in as many videos together. “Also, do we want to go public with this meetup? Personally, I don’t want to.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah, they don’t need to always be in our business. It’s honestly refreshing that they think we broke up. It means they’re so far off from what our personal business is.” Skeppy closed his eyes as the rain got harder around him, before he heard footsteps that grew closer and came with an umbrella. 

I hate the headlines and the weather 

“Yeah, I agree.”

Skeppy didn’t open his eyes before talking, “Do you mind if Dream joins us?” A grin filled Dream’s face. 

Skeppy walked through his garage, running his hand along each of his lamborghinis as he walked by them. He had 10 in total, each a different color. Currently he was making his way to his yellow one, Bad’s favorite of the bunch. It was also the fastest. 

I'm nineteen and I'm on fire

Once he got into the car, he revved his engine before driving out of the garage and onto the open road with the windows down. ExtraL by JENNIE was blasting through the speakers as the wind wove through his hair. He took a slow pull from his vape, watching with a detached sort of satisfaction as the thick white smoke caught the wind and leaked out into the dark night.  The mint scent barely had a chance to linger with how quickly the smoke was sucked from the car. 

It didn’t take long for him to arrive at his destination where Sapnap came out of the house and walked over to the car. Skeppy got out and tossed Sapnap his keys who went to the driver seat while Skeppy got into the passenger seat. Sapnap adjusted each of the mirrors. “Just don’t crash.” Skeppy said before they were even out of the driveway. 

Sapnap just chuckled, shifting into gear. "Relax, dude. I've got this." 

Once they hit the open road, Skeppy stuck his hand out the window willing a star to fall into it. Maybe he can prove his point. Maybe he can see the perfect place he spoke so fondly of. 

But when we're dancing, I'm alright 

They weren’t speeding, but they did go on the highway to be able to drive faster. It was pretty empty at 2am and so they had nothing but the open road and their smoke and their company. Both were content enough to not need to fill the silence, and neither would try till it was time to part ways again back at the DTeam house. 

“Wanna record today?” Bad asked Skeppy and Skeppy hummed. 

“Not really feeling it, but we can call after.” 

It's just another graceless night 

“Okay!” Bad said, “I’ll go now then and call you when I’m done. Love you!”

“And I love you.” Skeppy said with a smile. 

-

Skeppy :P > its been 7 hours r u still recording

Bad :) > just dont wanna call. 

Skeppy :P > everything ok

Bad :) > not really, you’ve been distant lately and it’s just starting to feel personal atp

Skeppy :P > well its not. 

Bad :) > then why?

Skeppy :P > my mood has just been down lay off it

Bad :) > i am your boyfriend, I will not just “lay off it”

Bad :) > you need to talk to someone 

Bad :) > it doesnt have to be me but someone

Skeppy :P > if you dont trust me then fine I’ll just fuck off

Bad :) > you’re literally lying to me about being ok, how is that not trusting you?

Skeppy :P > I don’t need this right now. Talk later. Love you. 

Bad :) > I love you 

“And I just don’t want to get into it but Samira is moving away, and usually I follow her but I’m happy here in Florida.” Skeppy said and Dream rubbed his back. It had been 3 hours since Bad’s last message and it was 10pm now. 

“I get it, you don’t want to be apart from your sister… but why not just tell Bad that? He loves you and will want to support you through this.” Dream asked and Skeppy just looked up at the sky on Dream’s back patio. 

“Because I was hoping me and Bad would have lived together by now and this decision wouldn’t be so hard. I wouldn’t feel so much like I’m just abandoning my sister if I had a real reason to stay.” Dream frowned at Skeppy’s words. They were sour and sad. He had never been distanced from his sister, but his heart was set on his home. Home was a phone call away. Home was his perfect place. Home was BadBoyHalo. But his house was the house that Bad said he would move into. It was the house they first met up at. It was the house they had shared before and would share forever. 

“Tell him all of that. Tell him the truth. Be open and honest. It’s the only way a relationship can stay healthy. You guys have been together for like 6 years, this can’t be what causes you issues.” Skeppy nodded. 

“Okay…”

But first, he needed to see Sapnap. 

Are you lost enough? 

-

The flame of Sapnap's lighter flickered in the dark, casting a brief, warm glow over the quiet patio before the bowl caught. He took a slow, deep hit and passed the piece to George, who was already sunk comfortably into his chair, waiting his turn with a lazy, relaxed expression. Skeppy longed for his head to become as clear as the sky above them. 

Have another drink, get lost in us  

Dream sat a few feet away, leaning back with a cold seltzer in hand. He wasn't smoking, but he was entirely content just to be there. 

Skeppy watched the smoke rise and dissipate into the humid air, his chest tightening with an all-too-familiar impatience. He longed for the surge of warmth that came with each inhale of smoke. He longed for his head to become as clear as the sky above them. He needed the tightly wound coils of anxiety and the heavy, suffocating weight of the distance to just stop for a little while. 

George cleared the chamber with a quiet exhale, sending a thick cloud into the night breeze before passing the piece across the table to Skeppy.

"Here you go, dude," George said, his voice already dropping into that slow, post-hit cadence. "Don't stare at it too long."

Skeppy took it, his fingers brushing against the cool glass. He brought it to his lips and flicked the lighter. As the heat bloomed in his chest, the harsh burn of the smoke felt like an anchor, dragging him out of the chaotic loop of his own thoughts. He held it in for a beat, looking up through the hazy patio screen at the brilliant, unclouded stars above.

When he finally exhaled, a massive cloud of white smoke billowed out, swirling around his head before drifting off toward the yard. Almost instantly, the sharp edges of his mind began to fray and soften. The syrupy, slow warmth of the high flooded his system, and the heavy ache in his heart - the constant, nagging loneliness of an empty bed and a long-distance relationship - finally began to dim into a quiet hum.

This is how we get notorious 

Dream took a sip of his seltzer, cracking a lazy smile as he looked between them. "Man, you guys look completely fried already. Especially you, Skeppy."

Skeppy let out a soft, delayed laugh, leaning his head back against the cushion of his chair. His vision was slightly unfocused, but the clarity he had been searching for was finally there. It wasn't that the problems were gone; it was just that, for the first time all day, the universe felt still enough for him to breathe.

"I'm good," Skeppy murmured, his voice thick and relaxed as he watched another trail of smoke vanish into the night. "Everything's perfect right now."

-

“Thank you for telling me, I’m proud of you.” 

“For what?” Skeppy asked, cheeks flushed. 

“For seeking someone out, I saw you were at Dream’s last night on Snapchat. It looks like you had the fun you needed while also having a good conversation. Also, I’m sorry your sister is moving again, truly. And I’m sorry that not living together has put such a strain on you.” Bad’s tone was nothing but honest and sweet. 

“Thank you, my love, for being here for me whenever I need you. You’re my best friend and the love of my life and I just love that we are in love.” Skeppy’s voice was raw and emotional. “How’d I get along so long without you?”

“I love you so much, Skeppy. You’re my entire world- my entire universe. I revolve around you and you light up my darkest nights.” 

“You’re my star, BadBoyHalo. My perfect place.”

“Hello, sweetheart.” Bad’s soft, familiar voice bled through the phone speaker, and Skeppy immediately exhaled a heavy, ragged breath. 

“Hello, love.” 

There was a brief pause on the other end, the quiet rustle of fabric. “Are you okay? You sound… out of breath.” Skeppy let out a low, breathless laugh. It took only a second of heavy silence for it to click on Bad's end, and Skeppy could practically picture the exact shade of crimson flooding his boyfriend's cheeks. 

“Are you alone?” Skeppy asked, tone low. 

“Yes,” Bad replied, his voice suddenly smaller, a little breathless himself as he stood in the center of his quiet bedroom. "I’m home now.” 

“I want you.” Skeppy’s pleading voice fell through the phone, heavy and unmasked. “I need you.” 

“In a couple of weeks I’ll be yours again.” Bad said, words sweet, trying to offer comfort against the miles between them. 

“I need you now.” The sheer weight of the distance was driving Skeppy crazy; he wanted nothing more than to have his boyfriend right there, trapped beneath him. 

Bad sputtered before he answered, “I can- we can- yeah.” 

Skeppy laughed a deep, low laugh, “You should get into bed.” 

Bad obliged and propped his phone up, changing the call to facetime. Skeppy’s phone was propped up and he was shirtless, stripped down to his boxers, his skin flushed dark and his chest heaving with every ragged breath. 

Skeppy’s hand tightened around the bedsheet for a moment and Bad could see his veins pop slightly at the movement. 

Bad swallowed hard, his eyes glued to the screen as he bit his lower lip. Slowly, he reached down and tugged his hoodie over his head, casting it aside.  “Don’t stop there.” Skeppy said and Bad hummed. 

“Or what? You’ll come here and choke me?” Bad asked, almost daring, looking directly at the camera. 

“Oh, baby,” Skeppy whispered, licking his dry lips, “I’ll have you gasping out pathetic screams in no time.” Bad damn near moaned and Skeppy licked his lips, “Now be a darling and take off the rest of your clothes.” 

-

The storm through the phone lines had finally passed, leaving a heavy, exhausted quiet in its wake. 

“You’re stunning, baby.” Skeppy whispered and Bad whimpered. 

“Shut up.” He hid himself behind his blanket. 

“Aww don’t be like that, I’m just saying what’s true.” Skeppy’s voice had lost all of its dark edge, returning to that sweet, gentle tone reserved only for moments like this. 

“Well- whatever- just- ugh.” 

Skeppy laughed softly, “Why don’t you get some water and start a bath and I’ll get myself some water and shower.”

Bad lowered his blanket and nodded. They stayed on call while Skeppy showered and Bad took his bath, speaking sweet nothings to each other after the loud shower was over with. Then they stayed on call as they both laid in bed. Rocco at Skeppy’s feet and Rat at Bad’s. With a shared Spotify playlist humming quietly in the background of both rooms, playing the same gentle tracks in two different states, they watched each other’s eyes slowly flutter shut, falling asleep to the rhythm of each other's breathing, closing the distance the only way they could. 

The drive to his parents' house had been peaceful enough, but the moment Skeppy stepped through the front door, the familiar, suffocating weight of family expectations settled over his shoulders.

They were sitting around the kitchen island - the remains of dinner cleared away, replaced by mugs of coffee that Skeppy’s mom was nervously tapping her fingers against. His dad was looking over a printed newspaper cross-word, though his eyes immediately locked onto Skeppy the second he pulled out a barstool and sat down.

"So, Zak," his dad started, bypassing any real small talk and leaning forward on his elbows. "Have you given any more thought to that marketing firm position your uncle mentioned? They’re looking for a junior consultant. Stable hours, 401k, actual health insurance."

'Cause I don't know 

Skeppy felt a familiar defensive knot tighten in his stomach. He picked up a spoon from the counter, idly spinning it between his fingers. "Dad, I’ve told you. My job is stable. I make more than enough to cover the mortgage, the cars, everything. I don't need a corporate desk job."

"A 'job' implies longevity, Zak," his dad countered, his tone clipped and disappointed. "You sit in a room and play video games for teenagers. What happens when the internet trends change? What happens in ten years when people stop clicking on your videos? That isn't a career. It’s a hobby that got out of hand. You need a real job before the bubble bursts."

If they keep tellin' me where to go 

"It's been 'bursting' for five years according to you," Skeppy muttered, keeping his eyes glued to the spinning spoon so he wouldn't roll them.

"Don't speak to your father like that," his mom chimed in, her voice gentler but carrying its own heavy undercurrent of disapproval. "We just worry about you. We want you to have a life you can actually build on. Especially now." She paused, taking a pointed sip of her coffee, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Speaking of building a life... what is going on with Darryl?"

Skeppy’s hand froze on the spoon. He looked up, his defenses instantly flaring even higher. "What do you mean?"

"When is he actually moving in?" she hounded, leaning closer across the granite countertop. "You bought that massive house. You’ve got all those empty rooms. You keep telling us he’s packing up, he’s coming to Florida, he’s moving his things... but every time we ask, it’s 'a few more months.' Is he actually coming, Zak? Or are you just paying for an empty house while he stays states away?"

"He has things to wrap up, Mom," Skeppy said, his voice dropping into a tense, tight register. The empty spaces in his closet and his heart were already a constant sore spot for him; having his parents poke at the bruise made it sting a hundred times worse. "It’s not just a weekend trip. He has to move his entire life. We’re working on it."

I'll blow my brains out to the radio 

"Well, it’s been months," his dad grumbled, folding his hands over the newspaper. "If he’s serious about this relationship, and serious about a future with you, he needs to get down here. It’s not healthy, Zak. You're living like a bachelor in a mansion, smoking on your patio, driving those ridiculous sports cars, completely isolated. If Darryl was here, maybe you’d finally settle down, get a proper routine, and look into a stable career path."

Skeppy stood up so fast his barstool screeched loudly against the tile floor. The kitchen suddenly felt entirely too hot, the walls closing in on him.

"I have a career," Skeppy said, his voice remarkably quiet but vibrating with a sharp, dangerous edge that finally made his parents go silent. "And Darryl is doing the best he can. I didn't come over here to be interrogated about my life."

He didn't wait for them to apologize or try to smooth it over. He turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen, the heavy front door clicking shut behind him as he escaped back into the cool, dark Florida night.

As he walked down the driveway toward his light blue Lamborghini, his hands were shaking with a mix of anger and raw, exposed vulnerability. He pulled his phone from his pocket, his thumb hovering over Bad's contact name. He wanted to call him. He wanted to hear the one voice that never demanded a "real job" or forced a timeline on their love. But instead, he just unlocked his car, fired up the roaring engine, and peeled out into the street, letting the speed drown out the echo of his parents' voices.

Instead of calling Bad, like Skeppy originally wanted, he quickly steered off an exit and made his way to the DTeam house. Sapnap had the perfect remedy for dealing with his parents. 

-

The heavy front door of the DTeam house clicked shut behind Skeppy, cutting off the humid Florida night. He didn't even say hello to the cats like usual. He just walked straight through the living room and out onto the back patio, his jaw set and his shoulders tense with the lingering fury of his parents' kitchen.

The guys were already out there. Sapnap was slouched in his usual lounge chair, the glass bong resting on the table. George was curled up in a beanbag, idly spinning a lighter between his fingers, while Dream sat on the edge of the outdoor couch, a cold seltzer in his hand.

"Whoa," Sapnap said, taking one look at Skeppy’s face. "You look like you're about to punch a wall, dude. What happened?"

"My parents," Skeppy muttered, sinking heavily into the empty seat next to Dream. He didn't want to explain it. He didn't want to recount the lectures about a 'real job' or the interrogation about Bad. "Just... pass the lighter."

Sapnap didn't push. He just nodded, packed a fresh bowl, and lit it, handing the piece over. Skeppy brought it to his lips and pulled the smoke deep into his lungs. He held it there, letting the harsh, familiar burn anchor him to the present moment before exhaling a thick, white cloud into the screen enclosure.

He passed the piece down the line. Sapnap took his hit, instantly chilling out, his posture going completely slack as he melted into the cushions, the easygoing rhythm of the night restoring his baseline. George took the piece next. He pulled a massive hit, cleared the chamber, and blew the smoke out with a slow, dramatic sigh. Within three minutes, George’s eyes glazed over completely. He stared intently at a tiny moth fluttering near the patio light, entering his own private universe, utterly detached from the rest of the world.

Then, surprisingly, Dream reached out. He took the glass from George, flicking the lighter and joining them this time. He took a measured, quiet hit, exhaling the smoke smoothly into the night air.

As the weed flooded Skeppy’s bloodstream, the sharp, angry edges of his thoughts began to fray. But instead of making him numb, the high acted like a crowbar, prying open the locked box of vulnerability he had been fighting all evening. The anger evaporated, leaving behind a raw, crushing weight of emotion.

All of the things we're taking 

"They don't get it," Skeppy whispered suddenly, his voice cracking in the quiet of the patio. He stared down at his sneakers, his eyes stinging with sudden, unexpected tears. "They think my life is a joke. They think my job is a joke. And then they start hounding me about Darryl... asking when he’s moving in, like... like he’s avoiding me. Like the empty rooms in my house are a failure."

'Cause we are young and we're ashamed 

Sapnap let out a soft, sympathetic hum, his high making him a quiet, comforting presence. He reached over, kicking Skeppy's foot gently. "Your parents are old school, Skeppy. They don't see the reality of what you built."

Send us to perfect places 

"But it hurts," Skeppy choked out, a single tear slipping down his cheek. He wiped it away aggressively, hating how exposed he felt, but unable to stop the floodgates now that they were open. He wanted Bad to be there with him.

All of our heroes fading 

"I'm the one who sleeps in that empty house every night. I'm the one who looks at the empty closet spaces. I know how far away he is. Hearing them weaponize the distance... it just makes the loneliness feel so much louder."

Now I can't stand to be alone 

George didn't even blink, still completely locked into his own world, watching the moth circle the lightbulb as if it were a planet orbiting a sun.

Dream took a slow sip of his seltzer, the smoke wrapping around him like a shroud. He looked at Skeppy, his eyes remarkably clear and grounded, the high lending him a quiet, profound wisdom.

"Zak, look at me," Dream said, his voice low and steady. Skeppy sniffled, glancing up. "Your parents are looking at a blueprint from thirty years ago. They want a conventional life for you because it’s the only way they know how to guarantee you're safe. But you’re not conventional. You built an entire career out of nothing but your own creativity. You didn't follow a path; you made one."

Dream leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression intensely genuine. "And as for Bad? Distance isn't a lack of commitment. It’s just logistics. The fact that you both are willing to endure the ache of those empty spaces just to be together proves how real it is. If it were easy, it wouldn't mean as much. Don't let their timeline make you doubt the foundation you and Bad have been digging for years. He’s coming. You just have to protect your peace until he gets here."

Skeppy stared at Dream, letting the words sink past the emotional fog in his brain. The logic was undeniable, delivered with a calm certainty that instantly started to soothe the frantic ache in his chest.

"Yeah," Skeppy murmured, wiping his face with the back of his hand, a small, exhausted but genuine breath of relief escaping him. "Yeah, you're right."

"I'm always right when I'm high," Dream cracked a lazy, soft smile, leaning back into the couch.

Sapnap chuckled from his chair, completely relaxed, while George suddenly let out a tiny, delayed "Wow" from his beanbag, still staring at the lightbulb.

Skeppy leaned his head back against the cushions, looking up at the clear Florida sky through the patio screen. The loneliness hadn't magically vanished, and his parents' words still stung - but sitting here in the quiet night, flanked by his friends, the weight felt a little easier to carry. He pulled out his phone, typing a quick text to Bad. 

Skeppy :P > I love you. can't wait until you're home.

Let's go to perfect places 

“I need your help.” Skeppy said into the phone and Hannah hummed. 

“With what?” She asked and Skeppy dropped something on the floor. 

“Shit- ugh- whatever… I need help making flowers for Bad.” 

“Skeppy…” Her tone was soft. 

“Yes, Hannah?” 

“Doesn’t he show up tomorrow?” She laughed when he agreed with her. “Okay, I’ll be over in like 15 minutes, I’m going to pick Sylvee up on the way.” 

“Okay, perf, I’ll order a pizza.” Skeppy ended the call to order the pizza. 

The girls arrived within 20 minutes and looked at the mess of pipecleaners, hot glue sticks and green florist tape and knew they had their work cut out for them. They 3 of them worked for hours setting up a bouquet of lilies, lavender, sunflowers and even pipe cleaner baby’s breath. It took 4 hours in total and it was now 12am. 

“I can order us some sweet treats to have before we go.” Hannah said and Skeppy took out his phone and unlocked it for her. 

“Just use my account, this way I can pay for your food as a thank you.” Skeppy said and Hannah obliged happily, ordering them some late night ice cream from a grocery store.

“I’m never using florist tape again.” Skeppy said after a few beats of silence. 

“Yeah, me neither.” Hannah said, handing the phone back. 

“Why does it only stick to itself when stretched? Why?!” Sylvee asked and Hannah and Skeppy both questioned it as well.  

“Good luck tomorrow, let me know if you need anything.” Hannah said, as her and Sylvee were leaving. 

“Yes, we will come over to hang out or help with anyone you may need.” Sylvee added and Skeppy smiled at them. 

“Thank you, Dream is letting me take his car since it has room in the back for Bad’s things. But I will let you know if I need anything or if Bad needs anything… Thank you again for all the help, also.” Skeppy walked them out to Hannah’s car. “Let me know when you make it home.”

“Will do. Bye, Skep!” Hannah said, getting into the driver's seat. 

“Bye, Skeppy!” Sylvee said before shutting her door. Skeppy stayed outside as they drove off, feeling the start of rain. He moved to his back porch to lay in the rain, waiting for Bad’s sleep call to ring through. 

Once Bad did call, Skeppy had one simple question for him, “Can we still dance in the rain?”

The sunrise threatened to burn holes into Skeppy as he walked to his garage. He had always been more of a night person, never had he enjoyed the sunrise beyond its looks. 

Bad had left the call at 4am to go to the airport but by that time in the night, Skeppy was outside watching the stars, planes and satellites travel the expanse of the atmosphere and beyond. Once the sun started to rise, he could clearly make out an airplane and a small piece of him wondered if it was the love of his life passing overhead. 

Now, Skeppy was on his way to the airport for his and Bad’s 3rd ever meetup. His tired bones were rattling with excitement. He chose Bad’s favorite car and drove it to the DTeam house to exchange cars. Then his short trip began. 

“Skeppy!” A voice called from the distance and Skeppy looked in its direction to see his boyfriend running towards him. 

“Bad!” Skeppy hugged his boyfriend as tight as he could before parting them slightly to peck Bad’s lips. Bad smiled wide and grabbed his luggage. “You’re so handsome.” 

Skeppy’s face flushed, “And you’re stunning, my love.” They linked hands as they walked to the car. “We will swap Dream’s car out with mine after we drop your stuff off and get settled. 

“Okay! What car did you pick?”

“It’s a surprise.” Skeppy said with a smile as he interlocked their fingers over the center console and drove them to Skeppy’s house. 

They got Bad’s luggage into Skeppy’s room and his clothes were stored in the empty spaces of Skeppy’s closet and dresser. The spaces reserved for Bad whenever he moves in. The spaces Skeppy’s heart couldn’t get him to fill. He wanted nothing more than to fill the silence with Bad’s laughter. Besides, he had a surprise to deliver. 

Hand in hand, they walked back out to the driveway. Skeppy drove them back to the DTeam house in absolute silence, a smug, tight-lipped grin plastered on his face the entire way while Bad tried every interrogation tactic he knew to get the surprise out of him. It didn’t work. Skeppy just winked, traded the keys back to a sleepy-eyed Dream, and led Bad toward the closed garage door.

"Close your eyes," Skeppy instructed, his voice buzzing with that familiar, chaotic energy.

"Skeppy, if this is a prank-"

"Just close them!"

Bad sighed, a fond smile breaking through his mock suspicion as he covered his eyes with his hands. Skeppy hit the garage button. The heavy door rattled upward, letting the bright, early-night moonlight spill across the polished concrete floor.

"Okay, open."

Bad dropped his hands. His jaw dropped right along with them. Standing in the center of the garage was a sleek, aggressively low-profile Lamborghini, painted a yellow so bright it looked like a chunk of the sun had detached and landed in the driveway.

“You brought my favorite car!?” Bad asked in excitement, running over to the car. Skeppy laughed and joined his boyfriend in the car. Skeppy was beaming with happiness at Bad’s happy reaction to seeing the car. Skeppy revved the engine before they took off. “How about a joyride?” 

“Yes!”

-

The windows were rolled all the way down, letting in the thick, humid Florida air and the deafening roar of the twin-turbo V8 engine. Skeppy gripped the steering wheel, a massive, mischievous grin plastered across his face. He checked his rearview mirror, tapped the gas pedal just enough to make the car growl, and glanced over at the passenger seat. 

Bad was looking at him with panic plastered on his face. “Skeppy do not start speeding down the road!”

Every night, I live and die 

Skeppy laughed, “We’re barely even cruising… yet. Besides, I’m not going to speed, I just want this to be a joyride that’s worthwhile!” The lambo surged forward into the empty I-95 as the moon shone a bright light onto the open road. 

A reluctant smile was tugging at the corners of Bad’s mouth despite his best efforts to look stern. "If we get pulled over by a cop in a bright banana car, I am telling them it was all your fault. I’ll tell them you kidnapped me."

"Oh, please. You love it," Skeppy said, casually joining their hands together. "Look at the sky! Look at the palm trees! We’re in Florida, baby!"

Bad stuck his head out the window slightly and saw a blur of stars in the sky. The trees were a dark green in the dim light of the night. Bad then looked over at Skeppy. Skeppy was grinning as the wind blew his hair into a mess. Their hands were interlocked securely and the engine was emitting a continuous purr. Bad finally saw the beauty of this joyride. He finally saw what Skeppy sees when he sees the stars. He finally understood the desire for a perfect place, because this was one of those places. 

The kitchen clock read 12:45 AM, and the only thing in Skeppy’s fridge was a single jar of pickles, a half-empty energy drink, and a carton of milk that had definitely expired while Bad was still at the airport.

"Skeppy, we can't survive the week on air and willpower," Bad said, leaning against the counter and looking amused as Skeppy desperately ransacked the upper cabinets. "We need real food."

Skeppy spun around, a dramatic gasp escaping him. "Are you saying my hosting skills are subpar, BadBoyHalo?"

"I’m saying your kitchen is a wasteland, Geppy," Bad chuckled, reaching out to push Skeppy’s messy hair out of his eyes. "Come on. Let's go to the store.”

Ten minutes later, the humid Florida night air hit them as they walked hand-in-hand through the automatic sliding doors of a massive, brightly lit Publix. The store was practically empty, save for a tired-looking employee restocking shelves in the distance and the soft sound of an 80s pop song echoing from the ceiling speakers. It felt like their own private kingdom.

Skeppy immediately grabbed a shopping cart, executing a perfect running leap onto the bottom metal bar and gliding down the main aisle like a skateboarder.

"Skeppy! Get down from there! You’re going to break the cart- or yourself!" Bad hissed, though he was jogging to catch up, a bright, helpless smile on his face.

Instead of getting down, Skeppy swung his legs around and hopped right into the basket, sitting cross-legged in the metal cage. He looked up at Bad, blinking innocently. "Push me, my love. I am far too tired to walk."

Bad stopped, resting his hands on the handlebar. He looked down at his boyfriend, trying his absolute best to look stern, but utterly failing. The fluorescent lights caught the flush on Skeppy’s cheeks, and Bad’s heart did a familiar, dizzying flip. "You are such a child," Bad murmured fondly. He leaned over the handle, pressing a quick, sweet kiss to the top of Skeppy's head before giving the cart a gentle shove forward. "Fine. But if a manager yells at us, I'm pretending I don't know you."

"They won't yell, they can see how cute we are," Skeppy beamed, leaning back against the metal grid as Bad pushed him into the bakery aisle. "Ooh! Get the chocolate chip muffins. The big ones."

"Only if we get ingredients for real dinner, too," Bad countered, tossing the muffins into the cart right next to Skeppy's knee.

They wandered the aisles in a comfortable, domestic rhythm that felt entirely new and fiercely treasured. Skeppy acted as the designated navigator and item-catcher, pointing wildly at things he wanted, while Bad acted as the voice of reason, though he secretly let Skeppy toss in three different brands of gummy worms and a ridiculously oversized box of cereal.

When they hit the baking aisle, Bad paused, his eyes lighting up as he scanned the flour and sugar. "Oh! I can make you those cinnamon rolls you like on stream. The ones from scratch." He also grabbed ingredients to make muffins from scratch. 

Skeppy’s expression softened instantly. He reached his hand up out of the basket, wrapping his fingers around Bad’s wrist to pull him closer. "Yeah? You'd do that?"

"Of course I would," Bad said softly, stepping closer to the side of the cart. He reached down, interlocking their fingers over the metal edge. "I want to take care of you while I'm here."

Skeppy pulled Bad’s hand up to his lips, kissing the knuckles gently. The distance between them usually felt like an ocean, but right now, surrounded by cereal boxes and fluorescent lights at one in the morning, the rest of the world completely vanished.

"Hey, lovebirds," a voice suddenly droned from the end of the aisle.

They both jumped slightly. The tired-looking employee was leaning against a pallet of soda, looking more amused than annoyed. "I don't care about the cart, but you're blocking the brown sugar."

Skeppy immediately burst into a loud, chaotic laugh, his face turning bright red as Bad scrambled backward, stammering out a flurry of apologies. "We’re moving! So sorry, sir! Skeppy, get out of the cart right now!"

"Never!" Skeppy yelled, gripping the sides of the basket as Bad, laughing through his embarrassment, put his weight into it and wheeled the cart at top speed toward the checkout lines.

By the time they got back to the car, their hands were full of plastic bags, their cheeks ached from laughing, and the quiet domesticity of the night had settled deep into both of them. It was a simple grocery run, but as Skeppy started the engine and reached across the console to find Bad's hand in the dark, he knew it was a memory he’d keep forever. A memory for their perfect place. 

The laugh that erupted from Bad was loud and entirely breathless as a fluffy down pillow smacked him squarely in the chest.

"Skeppy! Oh my goodness, stop!" Bad yelled, though he was already lunging across the mattress to grab his own weapon.

"Never!" Skeppy shouted back, a maniacal, triumphant grin on his face. He scrambled backward, but he wasn’t fast enough. Bad swung with full force, the pillow catching Skeppy right across the shoulder and sending him tumbling off the edge of the bed.

Skeppy hit the carpet with a loud thud, taking the top blanket down with him in a tangled, chaotic heap. Bad didn't let up. Seizing the opportunity, he slid off the mattress and dropped to his knees on the floor, pinning the blanket down and raising his pillow for a final, finishing blow.

"Surrender!" Bad demanded, his chest heaving, hair completely disheveled, and his face a brilliant, radiant red from laughing so hard.

Skeppy lay flat on his back, staring up at him. The teasing, loud-mouthed retort died instantly in his throat.

The room suddenly went entirely still. The only sound was the heavy, synchronized rhythm of their breathing and the hum of the air conditioning. The neon-yellow Lamborghini was parked quietly in the garage below, the metaphorical empty closet spaces were just a few feet away, but right now, looking up at Bad hovering over him, the rest of the universe completely vanished. The moonlight filtered through the blinds, casting soft, striped shadows across Bad's flushed skin and highlighting the intense, sudden darkening of his eyes.

Meet somebody, take 'em home 

Skeppy’s hands reached up, but instead of blocking the pillow, his fingers wrapped tightly around Bad’s wrists. He didn't push him away, he pulled him down.

The pillow slipped from Bad's grip, tossing uselessly to the side as Skeppy guided him lower, until Bad was forced to plant his hands on either side of Skeppy’s head to keep from crashing into him.

"Skeppy..." Bad breathed, his voice dropping from a shout into a quiet, trembling whisper.

"Shut up," Skeppy murmured, his gaze dropping to Bad’s lips before snapping back to his eyes.

The playful energy evaporated, replaced instantly by a thick, suffocating heat that had been building up through months of long-distance longing. Skeppy tilted his head up, closing the remaining inches between them, and crashed his lips against Bad's.

Bad let out a soft, buried whimper against Skeppy’s mouth, his knees sliding deeper into the carpet on either side of Skeppy’s hips, anchoring them together. The kiss wasn't gentle like the one at the grocery store; it was desperate, heavy, and fueled by a raw, mutual hunger that they had suppressed for too long behind computer screens.

Skeppy’s hands slid from Bad's wrists, his palms tangling aggressively into the soft fabric of Bad’s shirt, pulling him down until their chests flattened against each other. Bad responded by shifting his weight, one hand sliding up to grip the back of Skeppy’s neck, his fingers twisting into his hair, tilting his head to deepen the kiss even further.

Let's kiss and then take off our clothes 

The carpet beneath them felt entirely forgotten. Every inhale tasted of salt and heat. Bad’s lips parted slightly, a low, ragged sigh escaping him that Skeppy immediately drank in, his thumb tracing a firm, pressing line along Bad’s jawbone. The friction of their bodies moving together on the floor sent a jolt of pure adrenaline straight through Skeppy’s chest, far more intense than any speed he could ever reach on the highway.

When Bad finally pulled back just a fraction to breathe, his lips were dark, slick, and swollen. He stayed hovering mere millimeters away, his forehead resting against Skeppy's, his hot breath fanning across Skeppy’s cheeks.

"You're driving me crazy," Bad whispered, his voice thick, rough, and entirely stripped of his usual shyness.

It's just another graceless night

Skeppy’s chest heaved, a smug, breathless grin breaking through the heat as his hands slid down to grip Bad's hips, pulling him tightly against him. "Good. Don't stop."

The midnight grocery run had given them the food they needed, but by the time the next evening rolled around, the Florida humidity was still clinging heavily to the air. Seeking an escape from the heat, Skeppy drove them down to the coast, parking the yellow Lamborghini in a gravel lot just off the dunes. 

"Oh, wow," Bad murmured, taking a deep breath of the salty, cool Atlantic breeze. The heavy, suffocating weight of the daytime heat was completely gone, replaced by the refreshing spray of the ocean. "Skeppy, this is perfect."

"See? I told you I have the best ideas," Skeppy bragged, though his voice lacked its usual loud, teasing tone. In the quiet expanse of the beach, his voice had softened into something much gentler.

They walked side by side along the shoreline, staying just far enough back that the white foam of the breaking waves only occasionally lapped at their toes. The beach was entirely deserted, illuminated only by the pale glow of a crescent moon and a vast highway of stars stretching out over the dark water.

For a little while, Skeppy couldn't help himself, he reverted to his usual antics. He’d lightly jog ahead, threatening to push Bad into an oncoming wave, or playfully kick a bit of wet sand at Bad’s shins. Bad would gasp, shout his classic, "Skeppy, oh my goodness!" and chase him for a few paces, their laughter muffled by the rhythmic crashing of the tide.

But as the initial burst of energy faded, the profound reality of their setting settled over them. They weren't behind computer screens. There was no push-to-talk key, no lag, and no stream chat to perform for.

Skeppy slowed his pace, letting Bad catch up. Without a word, he reached down and slid his hand into Bad's, interlocking their fingers. Bad’s hand was warm, a perfect contrast to the cool ocean breeze, and he squeezed Skeppy's hand tightly in return.

"It feels surreal," Bad said softly, breaking the silence as he looked out at the horizon where the dark ocean met the star-speckled sky. "Being here. With you. Sometimes when we're apart, I have to remind myself that this part is real, too. Not just the voices in a headset."

Skeppy stopped walking, turning to face Bad fully. The moonlight caught the sharp lines of Bad’s face, softening his expression into something so incredibly tender it made Skeppy’s chest ache. He reached up with his free hand, his thumb gently brushing against Bad's cheekbone.

"It is real," Skeppy promised, his voice low and steady. "Every single bit of it. The distance sucks, Bad. It really does. Staring at the stars from my backyard isn't the same as holding you under them."

Bad smiled, a small, breathless sound escaping him as he leaned into the touch of Skeppy's hand. "I know. But we're here now."

"Yeah," Skeppy murmured, stepping just a fraction closer until the space between them vanished. "We're here now."

He leaned in, closing the distance to press his lips to Bad's. The kiss was slow, deep, and entirely grounded in the present moment. It tasted of salt air. Bad wrapped his arms around Skeppy’s neck, pulling him closer, anchoring them both against the vastness of the empty beach.

When they finally parted, Skeppy didn't let go. He kept his arms looped around Bad's waist, resting his chin on Bad's shoulder as they stood in the shallow water, letting the cool water wash over their feet. They stood like that for a long time, just watching the stars, knowing that back at the house, an empty closet was waiting to be filled… but tonight, they had everything they needed right here.

Bad woke up at 3am to find the other half of the bed empty. He heard the soft raps of rain on the window and hummed, getting up and heading outside to the backyard. The transition from the warmth of the house to the backyard was cold and sudden. The Florida weather had turned on a dime, a sudden summer downpour slamming against the glass windows and rattling the roof. 

Skeppy was lying flat on his back in the middle of the grass, completely soaked. His clothes were plastered to his skin, his hair flattened against his forehead, and his eyes were closed, his face turned directly up into the downpour as if the sky could wash away the heavy thoughts he’d been carrying. 

The rain hit Bad instantly, instantly drenching his shirt and chilling his skin, but his eyes never left the figure on the lawn. 

"Skeppy?" Bad called out, his voice competing with the roar of the storm.

Skeppy’s eyes blinked open, heavy and tired, squinting through the water droplets. He looked up at Bad, blinking in disbelief as his boyfriend walked right out into the mess. "Bad? What are you doing? You're gonna catch a cold, you idiot."

"Says the person using the lawn as a mattress in a thunderstorm," Bad shot back, though there was no heat in it. He walked over and stood right over Skeppy, looking down at him with a mixture of fond exasperation and deep, quiet concern. He held out a hand. "Come on. Get up."

Skeppy stared at Bad's extended hand for a moment, then reached up and took it. But instead of letting Bad pull him up, Skeppy gave a sudden, firm tug, intending to pull Bad down into the grass with him.

Bad anticipated it, planting his feet firmly in the muddy turf. He caught his balance, wrapped his fingers tightly around Skeppy’s wrist, and used his own leverage to pull Skeppy up to his feet. Skeppy stumbled forward, laughing a little as he crashed right into Bad's chest.

They stood there for a second, chest to chest, the rain pouring down on them in sheets, running down their faces and dripping from their noses.

"You're unbelievable," Bad murmured, his hands automatically finding their place on Skeppy’s hips to steady him.

"You came out here," Skeppy pointed out, a breathless, wet grin breaking through his exhaustion. He looped his arms around Bad’s neck, his fingers tangling in Bad's soaked hair. "You could've just stayed inside where it's warm."

"And leave you out here to drown by yourself? Never," Bad said softly.

The chaotic energy of the storm seemed to fade into a background hum as they looked at each other. The rain was loud, but between them, everything felt completely still. Slowly, without either of them explicitly suggesting it, Bad began to sway. His boots shifted in the wet grass, guiding them in a slow, unhurried circle.

Skeppy let out a soft breath, his head dropping forward to rest against Bad’s shoulder. He closed his eyes, letting his weight sink into Bad's hold. There was no music, no rhythm to follow except the steady, heavy beat of the rain hitting the ground and the matching thud of their hearts.

Bad held him close, one hand rubbing comforting circles into Skeppy's damp back as they slow-danced in the middle of the yard. Every step was deliberate, a silent promise against the distance that always threatened to pull them apart. Here in the dark, with the storm washing everything else away, the empty spaces didn't matter.

"I've got you," Bad whispered into the rain, pressing a warm kiss against Skeppy's wet temple.

Skeppy just squeezed him tighter, turning his face into the crook of Bad's neck, content to just move together in the dark until the storm finally ran out of rain.

“Is this our perfect place?” Skeppy asked, voice timid against the raging rain. 

“Yes, I believe it is.” Bad whispered back and just held Skeppy tighter. 

“Yes, chat, I am eating a muffin- oh and you’re all spamming for Bad- that’s just great guys.” Skeppy had no real malice in his voice as he talked to his stream chat. He appreciated them and the job he has, but they were all idiots at some times. Most of the time. “How would he even have made it for me? We live in different states.” 

“Skeppy, did you take a muffin?” Bad’s voice came from the door and a huge shit-eating grin found Skeppy’s face as chat exploded. Bad joined Skeppy on stream, after having set up the plan to do the reveal that way. 

Originally, they weren’t going to tell anyone they were meeting up, but they truly loved their fans and wanted them to know they were happy and together. 

Skeppy didn’t even look at the monitor. His eyes were locked on Bad, who was standing in the doorway of the streaming room wearing an oversized hoodie, holding a baking tray with a kitchen mitt, and looking a mix of fond and deeply exasperated.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bad," Skeppy said, his voice dripping with mock innocence. He deliberately took a massive, aggressive bite out of the chocolate chip muffin, crumbs tumbling down his shirt. "I found it on the counter. It was a gift from the universe."

"The universe didn't spend two hours kneading dough and preheating the oven at one in the morning, Skeppy!" Bad marched into the frame, setting the tray down on the desk just out of the camera's view. He leaned over Skeppy’s shoulder, squinting at the chat window. "Oh my goodness, look at them. You broke your chat!"

Skeppy laughed, a loud sound as he slid his chair over to make room. He grabbed Bad by the waist and pulled him down into the frame, forcing him onto the armrest of the gaming chair. "Chat, look who decided to finally show up! The muffin man himself!"

Bad sputtered, his face immediately turning a brilliant shade of pink as he waved awkwardly at the camera. "Hello, chat! Don't listen to him, he's a thief. A muffin thief!"

For the next ten minutes, the stream was pure, chaotic bliss. They hadn't planned a script; they didn't need one. The easy, comfortable domesticity they had spent the last few days cultivating offline spilled naturally over the microphone. Skeppy spent the time reading out the most dramatic chat reactions, completely delighted by the chaos, while Bad tried - and failed - to explain the logistics of how he had secretly flown into Florida without anyone noticing.

But amidst the jokes and the loud banter, there were small, quiet moments that the camera caught.

At one point, while Bad was passionately defending his baking measurements to the stream, Skeppy reached over and casually brushed a stray crumb away from the corner of Bad’s mouth. It was an automatic, deeply ingrained gesture… one that didn't belong to just "streaming partners," but to two people who loved each other entirely. Bad paused mid-sentence, his eyes softening as he looked down at Skeppy, offering a small, private smile that was meant only for him.

The chat noticed, of course, the spam shifting from confused screaming to a collective, emotional meltdown.

"Alright, alright, wrap it up," Skeppy suddenly said, a soft, genuine smile breaking through his usual troll persona. He looked up at Bad, then back at the camera. "We just wanted to say hi, let you guys know Bad is here safely, and... yeah. We're happy. We're gonna go finish these muffins off-stream."

"Wait, Skeppy, we can play one game of BedWars!" Bad protested, though he was already leaning his weight into Skeppy's shoulder, looking entirely content to leave the setup behind.

"No way, Muffin-Boy. You heard the chat, I'm a thief," Skeppy chuckled, reaching over to click the 'End Stream' button. "Bye, chat!"

The monitors went black, the bright ring light clicked off, and the sudden quiet of the room enveloped them. Skeppy spun his chair around, wrapping both arms around Bad's waist and burying his face in the soft cotton of Bad's hoodie.

"You did great," Skeppy murmured, his voice dropping into that quiet, gentle register.

Bad smiled, running his fingers through Skeppy's messy hair, completely ruining it further. "I love you, Geppy. Even if you steal my food."

"I love you more," Skeppy whispered against his chest, finally relaxed, knowing they had the rest of the week completely to themselves.

Skeppy’s backyard was entirely private, shielded by high fences and rustling palm trees. In the center of the patio, a glass bong - Sapnap’s prized possession, brought over in a backpack - sat on the low table, glistening under the porch light.

Sapnap was sprawled carelessly across one of the outdoor lounge chairs, effortlessly taking a hit, his tolerance built up from years of casual smoking. Beside him, George was slumped heavily into a beanbag chair, staring intently at his own hand as if trying to decipher the secrets of the universe. George hadn't said a word in twenty minutes, utterly locked into his own world. But that was his usual high state of being. 

Skeppy leaned back against the wall, a lazy, relaxed grin on his face. He took a pull from his vape, watching the smoke swirl into the night air. He and Sapnap did this a few times a month whenever they needed to unwind, their rhythms completely synchronized.

'Cause all of the things we're taking

Then there was Bad.

Bad was sitting cross-legged on the outdoor couch, his eyes wide and completely glazed over. Having only gotten high a few times in his entire life, his tolerance was practically non-existent. A single hit from Sapnap’s bong had sent him straight into orbit. He was clutching a half-eaten bag of chips like it was a life preserver, a faint, dazed smile plastered on his face.

"Skeppy..." Bad whispered, his voice incredibly slow, as if he had to manually process every syllable. "Skeppy, the grass... looks like it's breathing. Is it breathing?"

Sapnap snorted, letting out a wheezing laugh as he blew out a cloud of smoke. "Yeah, Bad. It's breathing. It's doing cardio right now."

"Don't tease him," Skeppy chuckled, his voice thick and lazy with his own high. He walked over to the couch, his limbs feeling heavy but loose, and slid into the seat right next to Bad. He immediately wrapped an arm around Bad's shoulders, pulling his boyfriend close. The moment Bad felt Skeppy’s warmth, he practically melted, letting his heavy head fall sideways onto Skeppy's shoulder.

"You good, baby?" Skeppy murmured, turning his head to press a soft kiss into Bad’s hair.

"Everything is... so soft," Bad mumbled, his fingers idly tapping against the chip bag. He looked up at Skeppy, his eyes remarkably glassy but full of an immense, sleepy affection. "Your shoulder is soft. The air is soft. Skeppy, I think I'm a cloud."

"You're definitely a cloud, Bad," Sapnap grinned, picking up the bong and standing up, stretching his arms over his head. "Alright, my brain is fried. I’m heading inside before I fall asleep on the concrete."

George suddenly blinked, coming back to reality for a brief second. "Is it sleeping time? I'm taking the big bed."

"Yeah, yeah, you get the guest room, George," Sapnap muttered, nudging George's leg with his foot to get him moving. "I'll take the couch. I don't care."

'Cause we are young and we're ashamed 

The two of them stumbled through the back sliding glass door, their quiet, exhausted bickering fading into the house. The guest room was already made up for George, and the massive living room sectional was practically calling Sapnap’s name.

Once the door slid shut, the backyard fell into a profound, beautiful silence. It was just the two of them under the stars, the heavy scent of weed slowly dissipating into the breeze.

Skeppy shifted slightly, shifting his weight so he could pull Bad even closer, his hand resting comfortably on Bad's hip. "Do you want to go inside, too? Go to bed?"

"No," Bad breathed, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of Skeppy’s cologne mixed with the smoke. He reached up, his movements clumsy but deliberate, and tangled his fingers into Skeppy’s shirt. "Stay here for a minute. Just us."

Skeppy smiled, a deep, genuine warmth blooming in his chest that had nothing to do with the drug. He adjusted his grip, rocking them slightly in the dark, content to just hold his boyfriend in the quiet Florida night until the universe stopped moving quite so fast.

Send us to perfect places 

The humid Florida night felt unusually heavy, a quiet stillness settling over the backyard as if the atmosphere itself knew the clock was ticking. It was Bad’s last night before his flight back, and the looming reality of the empty closet spaces and the thousands of miles between them hung palpably in the air.

They were lying side by side on a thick blanket spread across the grass, their shoulders pressed tightly together. The sky above was a brilliant, unclouded highway of silver pinpricks. Away from the glare of the house, the stars burned fiercely, casting a pale, ethereal light over the yard.

Skeppy had his arm looped under Bad’s head, his fingers idly tracing comforting circles against Bad's bare shoulder. His eyes were trained upward, tracking a distant satellite cutting through the dark expanse. He thought back to what he’d told Hannah on the pier - about stars being soulmates waiting in a perfect place - and a fierce, aching lump formed in his throat. He didn't want a perfect place in the sky. He wanted this, right here, to never end. It was their perfect place. 

All of our heroes fading 

"I don't want to go to sleep," Bad whispered, breaking the silence. His voice was thick, laced with a quiet, fragile emotion he’d been trying to hide all evening. He turned his head, burying his face slightly into the crook of Skeppy's neck. "Because when I wake up, it's time to pack."

Skeppy tightened his grip, pulling Bad closer until there was no space left between them. "Then don't sleep. Stay awake with me. We can just freeze time right here."

Now I can't stand to be alone 

A soft, sad smile touched Bad's lips, but before he could answer, the sky finally broke.

The clear expanse of stars was suddenly swallowed by a fast-moving front of heavy, dark clouds. A sudden summer downpour slammed down on them without warning. The rain hit them in giant, cool sheets, drenching their clothes and flattening their hair within seconds.

"Skeppy!" Bad gasped, blinking through the water droplets as he scrambled to sit up. "Oh my goodness, it’s pouring! We need to go inside!"

But Skeppy didn't get up. Instead, he reached out, catching Bad by the wrist. When Bad looked down, he saw the raw, exposed vulnerability in Skeppy's eyes. The typical trolling guard was entirely gone, melted away by the bittersweet finality of the night.

"Zak?" Bad murmured, his tone softening instantly as the rain poured over them.

Skeppy pulled himself up to his feet, gently tugging Bad up with him. He didn't lead them toward the sliding glass doors. Instead, he wrapped his arms tightly around Bad’s waist, stepping deep into the muddy turf.

"Dance with me," Skeppy whispered, his voice cracking against the roar of the downpour.

Bad’s chest heaved, a rush of intense emotion finally breaking through his defenses. He didn't protest about the cold or the ruined clothes. He just stepped forward, looping his arms securely around Skeppy's neck and burying his face into the wet fabric of Skeppy's shoulder.

Slowly, heavily, they began to sway.

There was no music, no rhythm to follow except the steady, deafening thrum of the storm hitting the leaves of the palm trees and the synchronized beat of their hearts. They moved in a slow, agonizingly beautiful circle in the middle of the yard. The rain ran down their faces like a flood of tears, masking the actual ones that were finally spilling over.

Skeppy held on as if he could physically hold Bad in Florida through sheer force of will. Every step in the wet grass felt like a silent, desperate plea against the distance. The high-speed thrill of the yellow Lamborghini, the late-night grocery runs, the quiet domestic mornings - it was all slipping into the past tense, leaving them with the crushing weight of the countdown.

"I'm going to miss you so much," Bad choked out into the rain, his body trembling slightly against Skeppy’s chest. He tightened his fingers in Skeppy's soaked hair, pulling him closer, anchoring them both against the vastness of the empty night. "It hurts so much to leave."

"I know," Skeppy murmured, his voice breaking completely as he pressed a warm, desperate kiss against Bad's wet temple. He let his head rest heavily against Bad's, his eyes closed tight against the downpour. "I know, baby. But we're here right now. Just hold onto me."

They stood in the shallow, pooling water of the lawn, swaying through the dark until the storm finally began to run out of rain, making every second count before the morning came to take them apart.

Let's go to perfect places 

Six months had slipped by since they were in the same room - six months since the airport goodbye that neither of them wanted to admit hurt as much as it did. The initial high of the meetup had faded back into the familiar, agonizing rhythm of Discord pings, late-night coding sessions, and voices coming through a headset instead of across a living room.

Skeppy stared at his dual monitors, the green "Online" dot next to Bad’s name mocking the thousands of miles between them. He clicked into their private call, the silence stretching for a moment before he finally spoke.

"Hey, Bad?"

"Yeah, Geppy?" Bad’s voice came through instantly, warm and familiar, laced with the faint rustle of him tidying up his desk post-stream. Sapnap was asleep in the guest room as they had smoked after the stream while Bad took Rat for a walk. Skeppy wasn’t high, just buzzed. Just enough to help him through this conversation and the inevitable rejection awaiting him. 

All of the nights spent off our faces 

Skeppy chewed on the inside of his cheek, spinning his chair slightly. He had rehearsed this a hundred times in his head, usually brushing it off as a joke, a bit, or a hypothetical. But the weight of the last six months - the contrast of how easy it had been to just exist in the same space versus this digital facsimile - had worn his defenses down.

"Do you ever get tired of this?" Skeppy asked, his tone dropping its usual chaotic edge, leaving something raw and uncharacteristically quiet.

"Of streaming? No, I love—"

"No, not streaming," Skeppy interrupted gently. "Of this. The distance. The waiting for the next plane ticket."

The rustling on Bad’s end stopped completely. The silence over the mic was heavy, but Skeppy didn't back down. He took a breath and threw the dice.

"Move in with me. For real this time. No more 'maybe next year,' no more logistics excuses. Just... come here. Let's do it."

Skeppy braced himself. He knew the script by heart. This was the part where Bad would sigh, list off a dozen practical reasons why it was complicated, talk about Rat, or mention lease agreements and family obligations. He prepared his defenses to laugh it off, to say 'Yeah, totally, just a thought!' and change the subject.

But the rejection didn't come.

On the other side of the screen, Bad sat frozen. He looked at his own desk, at the walls of his room that suddenly felt incredibly isolating. He thought about the airport six months ago, the crushing realization of having to let go, and how much harder it had been to adjust to the silence this time around. He was tired of waiting. He was tired of saying not yet.

"Okay," Bad said.

Skeppy blinked, shifting in his chair. "What? Wait, what did you say?"

"I said okay, Skeppy," Bad repeated, a soft, breathless laugh escaping him. It wasn't his usual exasperated or playful laugh; it sounded like a weight lifting off his chest. "Yes. Let's do it. I'll move in."

Trying to find these perfect places 

Skeppy’s brain entirely stalled. "You- you aren't baiting me? You're not trolling? Bad, if you're trolling right now, I swear to God-"

"I'm not trolling you, you muffin!" Bad insisted, his voice rising with a mix of nerves and genuine excitement. "I'm serious. I want to. I'm tired of the distance too. It’s time."

A massive, uncontrollable grin broke across Skeppy’s face, a sudden rush of adrenaline making him want to yell, but he kept his voice steady, grounded by the sheer reality of the moment. "You actually said yes. Wow. Okay. Holy crap."

"Don't make me regret it already!" Bad teased, though the fondness in his voice was unmistakable. "But... we have to be smart about it. I can't just pack a suitcase tomorrow. I have a lease to finish out, and we need to find a place that works for both of us, and figure out moving all my streaming gear and Rat..."

"Right, right, logistics," Skeppy said, tapping his desk, his mind already racing a million miles an hour. "How long does your lease have left?"

"Seven months," Bad said, a little apologetically. "I know that feels like a long time..."

"Seven months," Skeppy repeated, calculating it in his head. Combined with the six months that had already passed, it would be over a year since they last saw each other. It was a long wait. But this time, the countdown had a definitive end. There was a light at the end of the tunnel.

"Seven months is nothing," Skeppy said confidently, leaning into his mic. "We've survived years of this, Bad. We can do seven months standing on our heads. Because at the end of it, you're coming here. Permanent residency. No return ticket."

"No return ticket," Bad echoed softly, the words sounding sacred between them. "Seven months. We start planning tonight?"

What the fuck are perfect places anyway? 

"We start planning right now," Zak said, pulling up a blank document on his screen, the long-distance ache finally beginning to melt away. "First item on the agenda: who gets the bigger office?"

"Zak!"

The midnight cool air was swallowing the air around Skeppy, even in his own living room. It was icy against the warm anticipation that filled every bone. Skeppy couldn’t seem to stop pacing the very room as he refreshed the GPS tracking link that Bad had sent him for the 50th time in the last hour. This was it. This was finally it. 

Beside him, Rocco’s tail gave a rhythmic thump-thump-thump against the floor. He seemed to sense Skeppy’s anxieties as his eyes tracked Skeppy’s every movement. He had tried to sucker head rubs out of the man, but Skeppy gave them lazily as his focus was shifted elsewhere. 

“He’s almost here,” Skeppy’s voice filled the tense air as he checked his phone again. “5 more minutes. He’s a couple roads away.”

All of the nights spent off our faces 

When the distinct rumble of an SUV finally pulled into the driveway, Skeppy ran to the door to throw it open. 

The chill of the air hit him like a wall, but he didn’t mind. Parked right there, dusty from a massive road trip across multiple state lines, was Bad’s car. The back was packed full of boxes, a stray desk chair wheel pressing against the window, and what seemed to be a dog bed. 

The driver's side door clicked open. Bad stepped out, stretching his arms over his head with a dramatic, exhausted groan. He looked a little rumpled from hours on the interstate, but the moment his eyes landed on Skeppy, his entire face lit up.

Trying to find these perfect places 

"Zak!"

Before Bad could even take a step forward, Skeppy looked past him at the sheer volume of stuff crammed into the vehicle, and the chaotic energy he usually reserved for streams instantly kicked in as a defense mechanism against getting too emotional too fast.

"Oh my god," Skeppy gasped, putting his hands on his hips and staring at the packed SUV. "Bad. What is all of this? I think I need to buy an eleven-car garage just to fit your hoard. Are you running a smuggling operation?"

Bad letting out a loud, exasperated gasp - the exact sound Skeppy had heard through a headset thousands of times, but now perfectly clear, rich, and right in front of him. "Skeppy! I am moving in! This is my life! It’s not a hoard, you muffin, it’s my setup and my clothes!"

From the backseat, a tiny "ruff!" pierced through the air.

"Oh, hold on, Ratty is mad at me," Bad said quickly, his tone instantly softening into that high-pitched voice he only used for his dog. He opened the back door, carefully unbuckling a small travel crate.

As soon as the crate door clicked open, Rat hopped out, shaking her little legs. Rocco, who had trotted out onto the porch behind Skeppy, let out a soft, curious whine.

"Rocco, stay," Skeppy commanded softly, though his attention was completely fixed on the man standing by the open car door.

Bad set Rat down safely on her leash, took a deep breath, and finally looked up at Skeppy. The playful bickering evaporated into the heavy Florida air, leaving a sudden, profound quiet between them.

Seven months of counting down days. Seven months of 'goodnight' through a screen. Six months before that of aching to go back. It all culminated in a single step across the driveway.

"You're actually here," Skeppy said, his voice dropping the teasing edge completely. It was barely a whisper.

"I'm here," Bad echoed softly.

Skeppy didn't wait. He closed the remaining distance between them, pulling Bad into a hug that carried the weight of every delayed flight, every timezone headache, and every lonely night of the last few years. Bad buried his face into Skeppy’s shoulder, his arms wrapping tightly around him, squeezing back with a desperate, grounded strength.

The heat of the sun was nothing compared to the sweet, radiating warmth of finally being in the same space. It felt permanent. There was no countdown ticking in the back of their minds, no looming airport drop-off date to dread.

Down at their feet, Rocco carefully sniffed a highly skeptical Rat, a tiny tail wag meeting a big, slow tail wag.

Skeppy held on a little tighter, burying his laugh into the collar of Bad’s shirt. "Seriously though. The eleven-car garage. We're going to have to talk about it."

"Shut up, Geppy," Bad mumbled, but he didn't let go, he just pulled him closer. 

The hug lasted until the first heavy drop of rain hit Skeppy right on the back of his neck.

He blinked, pulling back just enough to look up at the sky. The bright moon was still shining, but a sudden, stray cloud had rolled in overhead, scattering a warm, gentle sprinkle across the driveway.

Bad looked up too, a few drops catching on his eyelashes. "Oh, great. It’s starting to rain. We should probably get the electronics inside before-"

"Bad," Skeppy interrupted, catching Bad’s hand before he could turn toward the trunk. The rain was coming down a little faster now. 

"What?" Bad asked, but the answer was already in the ridiculous, wide grin spreading across Skeppy’s face.

Instead of rushing for a box, Skeppy tugged on Bad’s hand, pulling him a step away from the car and into the open driveway. He placed his other hand firmly on Bad’s waist.

"Skeppy, what are you doing? We're going to get soaked!" Bad protested, but there was absolutely no weight behind it. A breathless laugh escaped him as Skeppy began to sway them back and forth in a slow, uncoordinated circle.

"We have plenty of time to unpack," Skeppy said softly, his eyes locked onto Bad’s. "Dance with me."

Bad stared at him for a second, the last remnants of road-trip stress entirely melting off his face. "You are such a muffin," he whispered affectionately, but he let out a contented sigh and slid his arms up around Skeppy’s neck, leaning into the rhythm.

There was no music playing - just the steady, rhythmic patter of the rain hitting the roof of the SUV and the leaves of the palm trees. They swayed together in the warm downpour, completely oblivious to the world around them.

Down in the grass, the weather seemed to have the exact opposite effect on the pets. Rocco let out a sharp, joyful bark, taking off in a sudden burst of energy across the front yard. Rat seemed infected by the chaos. She bolted right after him, her tiny legs moving at lightning speed as she chased the big dog through the damp grass, her tail puffed up in pure excitement.

Bad caught sight of them over Skeppy’s shoulder and let out a bright, ringing laugh. "Look at them! They're losing their minds!"

"They're fine," Skeppy murmured, his voice catching slightly. He stopped their slow swaying, his gaze dropping to Bad’s lips, then back up to his eyes. The rain was glistening on Bad's skin, making everything feel soft, blurred, and incredibly real.

The distance was over. The seven-month countdown was at zero.

Skeppy leaned in, and Bad met him halfway.

The kiss was slow, deep, and tasted like winter rain. It carried the relief of a thousand late-night phone calls, the quiet ache of empty rooms, and the profound certainty that they never had to say goodbye at an airport gate again. Bad’s hands tangled into the hair at the back of Skeppy’s neck, pulling him closer, while Skeppy held him tight against his chest, shielding him from the rest of the world.

When they finally parted, both of them were thoroughly soaked, their hair plastered to their foreheads, but neither cared in the slightest.

What the fuck are perfect places anyway? 

Bad rested his forehead against Skeppy's, a soft, radiant smile on his face. "We're really home, aren't we? In the perfect place?"

Skeppy squeezed his waist, looking at the messy car, the pets playing in the yard, and the man in his arms.

"Yeah," Skeppy whispered, kissing the tip of Bad's wet nose. "We're exactly where we're supposed to be. The perfect place."