#impskizz

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When the day was over, the rest was well-earned. The Mountaineers, as Scar had named them, reconvened to share dinner around the fire. He took the chance to wash up in the river- a water well would be a tomorrow project, once he had a place to lay his head that was more permanent than the blocked off mouth of his cave- and laid down for a good night's sleep.

...Any minute then.

Impulse rolled onto his back and sighed. It didn't feel right, and Impulse knew what was missing.

This may have been the greatest day of Impulse's life, because Skizz was there.

Skizz was there, and so much as thinking his name made the thread connecting them hum. Before Skizz was a hermit, when Impulse had been summoned and made the decision to stay, it was easy to ignore. The proximity now, though, made it impossible. His very soul knew its other half was near, and Impulse longed.

Skizz hadn't wanted to be coddled. He was determined to stand on his own two feet in this server of building gods and redstone masters. It was with full support that Impulse had agreed to let Skizz forge his own way, neighbors instead of roommates.

...But surely Skizz wouldn't mind a late-night visit, right?

Impulse relit the torches by his bedside. He didn't change, just throwing on his shoes. On his way to the door, he wondered if it would be worth taking his wings out. It would make the trip incredibly short, at the cost of nearly guaranteeing he'd spend all night at Skizz's. He wouldn't mind, but if Skizz did...

"Aaah!" A yell made Impulse jump as he opened the door, snapping him out of his thoughts. An equally startled Skizz stood in the doorway, a hand on his chest as he settled down. "You scared the dookie right outta me, dude," He said, heaving a breath, "Don't you know it's like, dumb o'clock in the morning? Nice jammies though," Skizz snickered.

Impulse snorted. Skizz was wearing a matching set. "These old things? Aw, they're nothin'," Skizz barks a laugh, and Impulse chuckles with him, a line of tension leaving his shoulders, "I know it's dumb o'clock in the morning, what're you doing at my front door?"

"Well I- y'know, I was in the neighborhood," Skizz started, wings held around his shoulders like a mantle, "And I'm thinkin' to myself, I think, y'know... I'm really feelin' it! And if I'm feelin' it, my best buddy over here, Mr. Impy Dimpy Dippledop, well, he's gotta be feelin' it too, right? Am I right? I bet I'm right," Skizz poked at Impulse's cheek.

Impulse huffed fondly, lightly smacking Skizz's hand away. Nobody could manage to be longwinded and straightforward like Skizz could. "I might've been on my way to yours for the same reason," Impulse admitted.

"Good thing I beat you then," Skizz cackled, "I don't have a bed yet!"

"Skizz!" Impulse laughed, "That's the first thing you do!"

"I was excited, okay? Some stuff fell through the cracks!" It only made Skizz laugh harder, "Are you gonna invite me in or not!"

"Okay, okay," Impulse placated once their laughter calmed into the occasional giggle. He stepped away from the doorway and gestured Skizz to follow him inside, "Come on in, make yourself at home. Don't forget to shut the door behind you."

Impulse heard the door close. The place was basic, really, meant for function over form. A double-wide bed, some chests for storage, and the simple wall that separated the space from the outside. There was a joke on the tip of Impulse's tongue, something about excusing a mess that wasn't there, but it's forgotten the moment he feels arms around him.

Arms, and then wings, warm and white and all-encompassing like a blanket settled around his very soul. If Impulse looked behind himself, he was sure Skizz's halo would be showing. In turn, Impulse's horns grew. Dark scales climbed up his arms where he held Skizz's arms across his chest, and his tail found purchase around Skizz's leg.

Skizz squeezed him in a hug, lowering his head to leave a kiss in Impulse's hair before burying his face in it with a content sigh that made Impulse want to melt into bed and never get up again.