rooftop lovers

Beanies and Glasses

(I got second hand embarrassment writing this, this is your warning)

Skeppy comes home to his mom and dad resting on the couch, the TV running.

His dad seems to be invested in the scene running on the TV while his mom has her legs folded over each other as she nervously beats on a wooden surface with her fingertips.

As soon as Skeppy enters his mother's line of vision, he's met with the usual rundown. His dad lowers the volume on the remote when he notices his wife's sudden movements.

"Where were you? We were worried sick all night and you ignored all of our calls! You can't be doing that."

Skeppy lowers his hand on his backpack and pushes down a heavy sigh daring to escape his lips. "I'm sorry," his voice is disingenuous and unapologetic. "It won't happen again," he's fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"I'm serious."

Skeppy pushes past her and navigates to his room. He can hear her yelling his name, telling him he's going to have to serve time for being so disobedient.

He slams his bedroom door shut behind him, locking it immediately after. His mom wouldn't go as far as banging his door down; he's fine, for now. Huffing out a heavy sigh, he hears that familiar whimper from across the room.

His eyes darted up in the sudden sound. He looks up to see Rocco laying in his bed, ears perked up. Skeppy smiles softly as he slowly takes his backpack off, setting it by the door.

He jumps onto his bed, laying starfish style flat on his back. He could hear the heartbeat in his ears ringing through him like a symphonized orchestra.

Adrenaline rushed through him as he closed his eyes, but most of all, Bad clouded his thoughts. The peace - the calm that eased through him when they talked - a feeling so distinct. Despite going through all those drugs, this was the highest he's ever felt.

And it felt so good.

———

Skeppy forgot to ask for his number. The regret only sunk in as he laid in bed trying to clear his bed so he could rest. It must be past midnight but he still laid awake, sweat beading on his forehead. He had already removed all the top layers and socks he could to reduce heat but then came the hard part of falling into a comfortable position.

He and Bad probably wouldn't talk at school tomorrow. They have their own respective cliques and things were fine the way they were so there's no point in ruining that.

He knew that. But part of him was gnawing at him to know Bad better. In a way they shared similar experiences and whenever he thought of him he felt calm for a brief moment of time.

There were no intrusive thoughts, his mind wasn't going 100 miles a minute, he was at peace.

———

He doesn't get up at all during the night. At first, he thinks he's dead. But in reality, he's dreaming serenely and comfortably.

Though the next morning his head still stings and the melody presented by the birds outside still irritates him, he feels better than he did yesterday. Today, he actually has something to look forward to.

He feels silly. He doesn't usually yearn for someone, but part of him was longing to see Bad. Talk like they did the day before.

He gets out of bed, performs regular routine, plugs his ears with earbuds and takes his phone and exits to the kitchen to get breakfast.

———

He was able to avoid his mom all morning but he wouldn't be able to do it forever. Curfew was usually by 5, which he thinks it's ridiculous but there was no point in arguing something he couldn't win.