Domestic ❧ Skephalo AU

Chapter 35.) Filler, Fluff, and Fourth Walls

BadBoyHalo was the type of person to overthink and obsess over the past, and while the day he shed his mask and brutally attacked a stranger hadn't happened too long ago, it was another event he had been dwelling on since that night. He wanted to give in to relaxation – to sit back and enjoy his one-on-one time with the only man crazy enough to date him – but his thoughts would always trail to the look of horror on Skeppy's face, and that thought would only warp into the memory of him mocking Skeppy whilst the other tried to calm him down.

To say he felt utterly sick days after was an understatement.

Skeppy, albeit a bit of a dunderhead at times, had taken notice of Bad's quietness over the past few days and took it upon himself to cheer him up. Nothing worked. Bad made sure to cling to his paranoia and guilt, not wanting to forgive himself for his scummy behavior so soon.

He needed to bask in his torturous thoughts a little longer.

Perhaps Skeppy realized he wasn't going anywhere with dirty jokes and honey-coated compliments because when those failed to elicit a genuine laugh or flustered shriek, he turned to excess physical affection. It wasn't unsatisfactory in any way, but the surplus pets and kisses were driving him insane. He hoped his reactions didn't make his lack of hugs as a child apparent.

"What are you even doing?"

He tried not to pay too much attention to the fingernails gently gliding against his wing membrane, which occasionally trailed up to massage at the alula, but it was difficult to ignore the warmth that seeped into his bones.

"Trying to make you fall asleep with a massage," was Skeppy's blunt reply. He didn't steer his gaze from the feathery appendage.

"Why?"

"So you could relax, duh! You've been tense since–"

"Please don't," Bad interrupted with a grim face. He didn't want nor need to hear the rest of his sentence. Skeppy didn't reply, only giving him a sympathetic nod before trailing his hands along the crimson webbing once more.

Go back to sulking, go back to sulking.

A scowl pulled at Bad's lips. He was trying to return to his corner of angst, but he couldn't focus while Skeppy was practically breathing on the relaxed muscles. He closed his eyes and turned his back to Skeppy, giving him better access to the plumage he was seemingly fascinated with.

Speaking of fascination...

"You like my wings, huh?" Bad chuckled, though there wasn't much amusement behind it.

"Dude, they're so fricking cool. How can you not flaunt them every time you look in a mirror?"

"I'm not a narcissist."

"Having an inkling of self-love doesn't make you a narcissist, S-M-H!"

The faintest of chortles rippled through the room as Skeppy made himself comfortable between the oversized appendages. With one hand he continued to comb his fingers through the shadowy wings, the other lazily pulling the demon's tail onto his lap and pinching the short fur between his fingertips.

"I thought all demons had spade-tipped tails," Skeppy admitted as he fumbled with the thin appendage.

"Are you disappointed?"

"Not at all," muttered Skeppy, the feather-trapped hand making its way down to the webbing a second time. He traced circles along the thin skin, his movements still possessing the same tenderness as before. It wasn't until both hands found themselves running through Bad's tail tuft that his gentle movements were brought to an abrupt halt.