Work Text:
Date: **/**/****
Time: 8PM
Co-ords: ***.***/**.***/***.***
Skeppy blinks down at the piece of paper in his hand curiously. He’d just got home, and stepped on to the doormat as normal when a scrunch of paper had attracted his attention. The details are simple. Just three lines of info with the title at the top “Blind Date!”
Skeppy’s never been on a blind date before.
He’s been on dates, obviously. Before he moved into Idots territory, back when he was part of the golem community, it hadn’t been hard to grab a date or two when he wanted. Skeppy is pretty, and he knows it. That’s actually kind of the point he had in mind with moving away. He wanted to learn something other than people doting on him.
Like, he enjoys that... But it’s also... It’s trickey. Skeppy likes attention. But over time it had worn on his psyche. The way people only seemed to like him for his looks. The way it felt so weird and forced. It made it hard to form meaningful connections, if he’s honest.
Here, Skeppy had managed to branch out. He has a house he’d built from the ground up -badly of course but he was so happy that it was his. He’d mined and mined for diamonds, and then flexed his bartering skills to trade with them for food and necessary materials.
So... By most definitions of the concept, Skeppy had settled in.
Which has him thinking... Perhaps a blind date is just the thing he needs right now. It could be fun, or at the very least interesting. Yeah -Skeppy considers in his head- he could use some spice to flavour his routine. Even if it’s just this one date, it really might be nice to hang out with a person, just see what they’re like. Meeting new people has always been a fun endeavour for Skeppy. So he shrugs his shoulders, locks the door behind him, and drops his sword into it’s stand.
It’s actually an idea stolen from Bad, where the demon had essentially borrowed the concept of an umbrella stand and made it work for swords.
Skeppy stretches, and first things first, shoves his mining equipment away. His pickaxe gets hung up on the wall by the two hooks designated for it, and his armour is tossed in the chest right below it. After that, he glances at the clock on the wall (It's one hundred percent courtesy of Bad -Skeppy’s usually late to everything and he liked having the excuse that he didn’t even own a clock for a while. Fricking Bad.) It informs him that he has around an hour to get ready and head off, and after wincing at the sweat and grime on his skin, he decides a shower is a good place to start.
There’s nothing quite like washing mine dust off from you, Skeppy decides, as water cascades across his skin and drenches his hair pleasantly. As he goes through the motions of removing dust and dirt, he stares momentarily at the water washing down his arms. There are patches of diamond dotted around, and he rubs a hand over them thoughtlessly. Perhaps tonight is a good enough excuse to break out the polish, he considers, as he looks down at them.
They’re incredibly durable, the diamond speckles. They don’t tarnish or get scratched ever, and thank god they don’t because Skeppy can be incredibly stupid with his body, and if they were easy to break then... Well that wouldn’t be a good design feature of his biology.
He turns and his hands go to his hair, parting it before snatching the shampoo and beginning to lather it in. Still, he can excuse some pampering for a special occasion, he decides. The diamond polish it is, he nods decisively. He hasn’t seen his own gems sparkle like that in a while, and he likes how it looks. He wants to be feeling himself if he's going out.
Once out of the shower, he’s into a towel and flicks the hair dryer on. He sets his hair with the heat, and gives himself a look in the mirror. Right, diamond polish. It’s kept on the top shelf of the bathroom cabinet, and he snatches it down easily. With a brush it’s carefully applied to the diamond moles across his face, and he considers whether to apply it to his arms. Well, he should probably decide his outfit first actually, Skeppy decides and he heads into the walk in closet quickly.
Skeppy hums as he swipes through his hangers, and narrows it down three options. Option three is cool, but feels a bit casual for a first date with someone... He can’t imagine how awkward it would be to feel underdressed in this scenario, so he kind of ditches it immediately.
Option one and two are now the competing candidates, and he tilts his head slightly as he examines them. Option one is a white long sleeve button up, black dress pants with intricate silver beading, a blue sash at the waist and various blue accents -including but not limited to- some blue rings, earrings and a silver necklace. Option two is a short sleeve button up with a black and white pattern on it that Skeppy loves, blue jeans, and his coolest pair of sneakers. The shoes are custom made in black, blue and white. It’s more simplistic, but it feels very modern casual.
Skeppy’s eyes dart back and forth between them. He really likes option two... But it’s just, not quite right. It’s a going out clubbing fit, not a first date with a sit down meal type of look. Skeppy picks up the hanger with the second outfit on it, and slides it back into place on the rack. With that done, he quickly and carefully begins arranging his outfit, buttoning up the shirt, twisting the rings on, tying and re-tying his sash in an effort to get it at the perfect height. Skeppy moves his head this way and that as he heads out of the walk-in closet to crack his neck, before glancing at the clock interestedly. He has about twenty minutes before the start time and he grabs the piece of paper where he had discarded it on his bed.
The co-ords aren’t too far away at least. He’ll head off in a bit, with the aim to arrive around one to three minutes late. Being the first one to arrive says he’s too eager, but letting someone wait for more than a minute would be very rude. So Skeppy heads back into the bathroom, using the mirror to slip on his earrings and giving himself another look over. He nods in satisfaction, and grabs everything he needs for heading out; his communicator, wallet, keys, and his sword of course.
Well, he slips out the door into the darkness, and locks it behind him. Off he goes.
There’s a little thrill in Skeppy’s step as he keeps an eye on the GPS on screen as he makes his way towards the date co-ords. It’s not particularly difficult to get to, and Skeppy watches the time tick on as he walks through the darkness with the torch of his communicator doing a decent job warding off the mobs.
A brisk walk later, and Skeppy spies an ambient glow up ahead, and based on the coordinates this is where he’s headed. He draws his sword as a precaution, and slips his communicator into his pocket, as he steps out from behind the tree.
“Hi! Are you-”
“Bad?!” Skeppy interrupts the familiar voice in shock.
The demon whips around like he’s been burnt, and Skeppy can tell everything about his posture is caught off guard and embarrassed. Skeppy’s eyes fall to Bad’s right side, where the demon had moments ago been fiddling with something on the table. A- vase of flowers? Skeppy’s gaze is on Bad’s face again in confusion, before he registers Bad’s attire, and the look of pain on his face. Honestly, Bad kind of looks like he wants to run away right now.
And he’s- in a dress?
OH! -it clicks finally- right, so-
“Are you the blind date?” Skeppy asks without thinking.
Bad stares at him for just a second before crossing his arms. “No. I put in the effort to dress up like this for fun.” He says sarcastically.
Skeppy blinks and then dips his head in understanding. “Yeah sorry, stupid question.”
“No, it’s not stupid. I’m sorry.” Bad amends instantly, sounding genuine.
The demon scuffs his foot against the ground. “I just... I thought it was something... Anyway. It’s just a prank.” There’s something disappointed in his voice, and Bad steps over to the table as if needing something to fiddle with, as Skeppy processes the words.
“A prank?” He questions, sheathing his sword as he steps over to the table. It’s a square one with a white cloth draped over it, and there are two chairs at opposite ends of it. Bad has stood at one of the two sides missing a chair, to fiddle with decorations spread out. Skeppy unthinkingly stands opposite him, smoothing out the only crease in the table cloth and then just running his hands over the surface for something to do.
“Yeah.” Bad sighs softly, and wilts as he looks at the ground by his feet. “It’s okay. I’m not mad.” He sounds... Reserved, as he murmurs the words acceptingly.
“I don’t get it,” Skeppy asks in confusion, prompting more info as he gazes at the top of Bad’s head.
“Don’t play dumb with me Skeppy!” Bad’s gaze snaps up and there’s something offended in it.
“What do you mean! I’m- huh? I didn’t set this up!” He exclaims in surprise.
“I know you- Wait what?” Bad’s upset tone instantly snaps into something confused.
“Did you really think I’d-? Because, I didn’t- I just... I got home today and this was on my door mat.” Skeppy fishes the crumpled piece of brown paper out of his pocket, smoothing it and then showing it to Bad.
Bad reaches over and takes it curiously, turning the paper over and then scanning it.
“Oh,” he says under his breath, passing it back to Skeppy, and glancing up at him with... Something in his eyes. “I got...” Bad pulls his own piece of paper out, and Skeppy internally smacks himself in the face at the way they jumped to conclusions. Because Bad's piece of paper matches Skeppy’s own perfectly.
“We got set up,” Skeppy slumps slightly. He doesn’t know how to feel really, until there’s a slight giggle and his eyes shoot to Bad’s face instantly. The demon is obviously trying to hide it but... There’s a smile gracing his lips and he giggles again softly before pressing his lips together and Skeppy feels his own mouth twitch.
Skeppy snorts slightly, and Bad’s eyes are full of sparks, and then they’re collapsing forward against either side of the table as they cackle at the strangeness of the situation. The table rattles with the shaking of their laughter, and Skeppy momentarily thinks that it would be even funnier if one of the glasses fell and smashed on the ground right now. He doesn’t know why it’s funny, it just is.
Eventually they’re done with their laughter, and Skeppy wipes a tear of mirth from the corner of his eyes, as Bad giggles, hiccups, and giggles softly again before the sounds peter out gently.
“Well. I’m glad we’re in it together then,” Skeppy grins broadly, and Bad smiles back.
“Of course. We’re in everything together.” He addresses firmly, and Skeppy snorts and tosses his head slightly.
“We got duped into dating each other, even when we weren’t trying to,” Skeppy jokes, and Bad’s cheeks get rosy at that, a fact that Skeppy stores away in his ever growing Badboyhalo mind palace.
“We aren’t dating Skeppy...” Bad mumbles quietly, his eyes fixed on the ground.
Skeppy’s grin widens slightly. Embarrassed Bad is... Just too cute for his fragile heart. “We’re literally on a date right now!” Skeppy raises his voice comically, stepping back to gesture at the table of things.
“Okay, no, you’re right, there’s roses everywhere, and the table...” Bad tails off, and Skeppy hadn’t even noticed that Bad is right, scattered around the table is a flood of rose petals.
“So you do wanna date me!” Delight fills Skeppy’s tone, and Bad splutters out a few incomprehensible sentences before he huffs and deflects to a new topic.
“Who even set this up... It can’t have been you, mister always late,” Bad mutters, staring down at the bottle of wine, the dishes each covered in a metal cloche to keep them warm, the fancy cutlery.
“It’s gotta be someone who has fancy shit, and who keeps complaining about us getting together...” Skeppy raises his hand to his chin thoughtfully.
It’s after a moment of thinking about it and staring at the table that he glances up and catches Bad’s expression. There's something almost intimate in his gaze, which disappears microseconds after he notices Skeppy watching. Something wriggles in Skeppy’s stomach at that knowledge, and he finds himself glancing away in bit of a fluster.
“Look, we probably won’t figure it out.” Skeppy shrugs casually. “So, would you like to actually,” Skeppy gestures at the table.
Bad’s eyes fly wide as he looks up at Skeppy nervously. “You don’t... Actually wanna do this dinner date... Do you?” He questions.
Skeppy blinks and feels his smile fall slightly at the rejection. “Ah, I guess if you don’t want to then-”
“NO!” Bad reaches out a hand and waves emotively, “No, no, if you want to then, then of course- I would love- we can try this, but, only if you want to Skeppy...”
Skeppy analyses Bad’s expression for a second before his smile is back and noticeably brighter. “Well, I do want to.” Skeppy turns and walks around the table until they’re on the same side, giving Bad his most encouraging look. “It’ll be fun,” Skeppy’s gaze drops to the flowers. “You’ve never actually agreed to go on one of my dates...”
“Oh shut up,” Bad’s steps forward to shove Skeppy’s shoulder, even as his cheeks burn bright red. “You were joking and you know it.”
“Why?” Skeppy grins cheekily, dipping his head down and stepping into Bad’s space for a second teasingly before backing off again. He pointedly doesn't respond to Bad's second sentence.
“Because you’re... Being a muffinhead,” Bad crosses his arms and looks firmly at the ground again.
“Am I ever not being a muffinhead,” Skeppy giggles, and reaches out to shove Bad’s shoulder gently in retaliation.
“Don’t push me muffinhead,” Bad glares up at Skeppy and uses one hand to gently swat him away. Like a rolly-polly doll, as soon as Bad’s pushed him back slightly, Skeppy swings forward and leans into his space.
“Don’t shove me muffinhead,” he parrots in a squeaky voice, and Bad grumbles something under his breath and crosses his arms again.
“Muffiny Skeppy,” Bad accuses, and Skeppy’s face melts at the embarrassment in Bad’s expression, before his eyes drop to Bad’s shoulder and the outfit he’s wearing.
“I like your dress by the way,” Skeppy steps back again and gives Bad a small genuine smile. “It’s pretty.”
Bad glances down at himself. The top of the dress is a dark red colour, rich in how it sits over him, with glimmering black sequins? Beads? Skeppy can’t actually tell in the low light. But they’re reflective and Skeppy likes them. The bottom of the dress is made of black tulle, the material poofing out in a way that just... It looks nice. Ironically he also has a red sash at his waist, and now Skeppy’s noticed it he kind of wonders if Bad took his suggestion to wear one instead of a belt.
"Belts look ugly with smart clothes," Skeppy had pointed out one day, and while Bad had seemed offended at the time, it’s clear now that he agrees on some level.
Skeppy doesn’t know why that information makes his stomach feel bubbly. It's not because Bad listened to him. It's not because they match.
He also can’t quite process Bad looking... Well it sounds mean to think it but put together.
Bad is a utility type of guy, Skeppy’s known it since the day they met. But this... This is very far off from utility. This isn’t walking boots, a tool belt, and building supplies. It’s not a worn hoodie covered in paint splatters from interior design. It’s not safety googles, and hard hats, and high vis jackets. It’s... Dainty? Not quite, it’s- it’s... Something. Something just on the tip of Skeppy’s tongue but he can’t quite, find the words.
“I like, yours too.” Bad blurts out, and Skeppy’s gaze flicks to Bad’s and finds him looking particularly flustered at the outburst. Skeppy realises in mild surprise that Bad’s probably been taking the time to gaze at his outfit as much as he has to Bad. “Usually you look...” Bad bites his lip, and his tail flicks around to his front for him to hold it in his hands, a classic tell of his nerves.
“You can say it,” Skeppy nods encouragingly. “I wanna hear.”
“I don’t know,” Bad’s gaze ends up back at the table. “Usually you look like you aren’t... Trying that hard? I don’t know, it’s like, you try and... Fit! That’s what it is. When you normally go out you look... Like you’re trying to be cool.”
“And am I not cool now?” Skeppy sticks his tongue out to tease the demon, and Bad rolls his eyes fondly.
“No. But I’d say you’re more... Pretty. Here. And handsome. Less cool, more pretty- handsome- man.” Bad decides and nods his head. Skeppy tries to think of something to say, but he can’t come up with anything. His head is full of flowers right now. “Your gems are...” Bad gestures at his own face with an intrigued expression, and it only makes Skeppy’s inability to form a sentence right now worse. Shit! He’s usually chill with this stuff, why is Bad making him all... Flowery!
“Ah, I just, brightened them up a bit,” Skeppy can feel heat bloom out across his cheeks, and he curses that it’s probably more noticeable considering how his diamonds have a glow to them.
“How do you get them to do that?” Bad asks curiously, and Skeppy’s heart flips and skips when Bad reaches up to cup his cheek and get a better look at the crystals.
“Ahh, just, use a... Polish... Thingy. Makes them... Go more, shiny.” Skeppy gets out, and he feels all mushy inside when Bad strokes his cheek with a thumb unthinkingly.
“You look...” Skeppy starts, and his mouth goes slack as he still can’t find the right descriptor. And then it comes to him. “Elegant,” The word is so unfamiliar to Skeppy’s vocabulary that it almost sounds wonky when he says it. And that reflects how Bad relates to the word, because Bad is a hundred other things before elegant. He’s clumsy, he’s stubborn, he’s a debater. Bad is cute eons before he’s elegant.
...And yet the more Skeppy looks at the blush on his cheeks, and drape of the fabric against him... The more correct that adjective seems to get.
“Your gems they’re... Really nice, kind of... Beautiful? I’ve never seen them, look like this.” Bad mumbles as he continues looking at the crystal, before flicking his gaze up to Skeppy’s eyes. At that point he seems to remember where he is, and what he’s doing.
“Sorry!” Bad jumps back, and what a bad time it is to do that, because Skeppy hears, feels, and sees Bad slip on the grass. And Skeppy gets halfway through a thought about Bad’s dress!- before he grabs Bad’s hand and they freeze, staring at each other.
Bad’s breath rattles in his chest as he stares up at Skeppy, and Skeppy exhales slowly as he carefully uses his two hands to pull Bad towards himself, and settle him back on his feet. “That coulda been bad,” Skeppy huffs jokingly, as he gently slides his hands away from Bad’s.
“Gah, I’m sorry, I got all, in your space, and then I was trying to back off, and I was too fast, an-”
“Bad,” Skeppy waves a hand to get his attention, “It’s fine. You’re fine okay?”
“Mffft,” Bad whines and looks upset.
“Bad,” Skeppy sighs out fondly as he looks at him. And then he growls a warning before sweeping Bad off his feet and twirling them around.
“Sk-Geppy!” Bad yelps in shock, and Skeppy chortles brightly as he swings them around again, and feels Bad’s fingers dig into his shirt instinctively.
“You’re fine.” Skeppy repeats as he sets Bad back on the ground and steps back.
“Not after that I’m not.” Bad huffs and folds his arms poutily.
“Bad...” Skeppy draws out, and the demon forcefully tries to not smile at him.
"What." His tail flicks pointedly.
"You loved that," Skeppy folds his arms proudly.
“You can’t just do that Skeppy!” Bad exclaims.
“You said it was fine last time!”
“Well yeah Because last time I was just in my work stuff, imagine if you’d dropped me!”
“Yeah, but I wouldn’t.” Skeppy nods with certainty and then his eyes automatically soften, “I wouldn’t.” He repeats after a beat of quiet.
Bad sighs softly and deflates. “I know. You’re such a muffinhead Skeppy.” Bad rolls his eyes with a smile on his face, and Skeppy’s heart swells with adoration for his best friend.
“Hell yeah,” Skeppy steps closer after a moment. “Not just any muffinhead though...” He raises his arms for a hug, and Bad steps over to him carefully, arranging himself in Skeppy’s hold before settling into the embrace.
“My muffinhead.” Bad breathes into his shoulder, and Skeppy hums happily.
“Your muffinhead. Who you love, and forgive for swinging you around in excitement.”
“Mfft.” Bad huffs, playing up his annoyance. “I actively disagree with the idea of loving being swung around by you.” He mutters playfully.
“Ohh but you do love that. I know you do Badboy... You like it so much.” Skeppy mumbles back smugly.
“I don’t like it,” Bad says, but Skeppy can hear the smile in his voice.
“You don't?” Skeppy steps back slightly, his expression morphing into something slightly hurt, like a sad puppy asking for forgiveness.
“No,” Bad agrees, stepping forward and manually driving them back to a hug by wrapping his arms around Skeppy’s waist.
“Mmmm you know you should have said ‘no I don't like it’ just now. Because saying no means you’re agreeing with me.” Skeppy hums knowingly.
“Shut up,” Bad mumbles into his chest, and squishes in tighter.
Skeppy breathes out deeply, and then brushes the top of Bad’s hair with his nose. The stars are out now, and the moon has risen to the point where it shines down into the clearing. There’s something magically ethereal about it. Almost as if they’re the only beings in the universe.
“We should probably eat that food before it goes completely cold,” Skeppy hums, and glances at the table out of the corner of his eye. “It’s what we’re here for after all,” he says with gentle amusement.
“...It’s not really about the food though.” Bad points out. And when Skeppy looks down at the demon, his heart goes clunk in his chest.
“Guess not.” Skeppy murmurs, and Bad tucks his head down for Skeppy to rest his chin on again.
“We should do this again.” Bad suggests, as Skeppy stares up at the night’s sky.
“We haven’t even had the meal yet,” Skeppy jokes happily.
“I know.” Bad says with sincerity in his tone. “I don’t need to. I already love doing things with you.”