TWOYHIM

Sapnap’s legs hurt. He wasn’t used to sitting in such a cramped space for so long, and even though a two and a half hour flight wasn’t too horrible, it still sucked to be stuck in the cramped middle seat of a cramped plane for any amount of time. He was glad to be off of it.

His backpack was heavy, as he walked as quickly as his aching legs would take him down the large airport corridor, following signs towards baggage claim and the crowd of people with him. His emotions felt rampant - excitement to finally be off the plane, annoyance at the kid who had kept screaming on it, nervousness for the person likely waiting at the end of the long corridor for him.

It was weird, to feel nervous, he thought as a man in a suit shoved past him, hurrying even quicker down the hall, talking angrily into a cell phone. It wasn’t like it was anything different than normal… well, it was, but not that different. What was the difference, talking pretty much everyday for hours on end over a phone, and… being in person with the guy for a whole week.

No difference. No biggie.

The odd, dark part of Sapnap’s brain hoped that Karl was just as nervous - that Karl was wringing his hands out, bouncing up and down out of slight panic, just like Sapnap wanted to do. It was a bit mean, but if Sapnap’s hands were shaking while typing out a message telling Karl that his plane landed, then he wanted Karl’s to be as well, as he typed out a message saying he would meet him at the baggage claim. It would only be fair.

Sapnap focused on the patter of his sneakers, which he could barely focus on over the annoyingly loud buzz of the airport around him, and pushed those thoughts down, down, and out of his mind. It wasn’t a big deal. He gripped the straps of his backpack with both hands, forcefully stopping the shaking of his hands by pure spite. He was being an idiot, he knew that.

His palms felt sweaty.

Two children cut him off as he is walking, almost tripping him. The mom nods an apology, and Sapnap nods in return. He can feel his heartbeat in his throat. He wondered, blankly, if he was underdressed for whatever North Carolina Decembers were like - everyone around him seemed to be in puffy jackets and gloves and hats, while he was wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. Were North Carolina winters cold? He wasn’t even really sure.

His phone buzzed, and he fumbled for it in his pocket, dodging another family rushing towards baggage claim. The sign above him pointed around the corner, and Sapnap rounded it, seeing one of the turntables, before glancing back at his phone.

It was a picture, from Karl. Him standing next to a baggage claim turntable, giving a thumbs up and smile to the camera. It looked awkward, or like it would be awkward, but picture-Karl didn’t seem to mind, smiling happily as usual. Sapnap could never do that. He was too awkward, too shy, too pressured by societal standards to never be ballsy enough to just randomly stand out for fun like that.

He admired Karl for that. Or resented him for it. He wasn’t exactly sure.

He sent a quick text back, “almost there”, and pocketed his phone again, looking up at the turntables in front of him. A sign near him said that conveyor five was for the flight from Houston, so he turned towards it. He passed many families and single people waiting around for their own luggage, children looking impatient, adults looking annoyed. Typical airport behavior.

Sapnap rubbed his hands helplessly on the front of his sweatpants. Karl wouldn’t shake his hand would he? No, that would be weird. Too formal. Karl will probably just go in for a hug.

Shit, a hug.

Sapnap pulled on the hem of his sweatshirt, wondering for the first time in his life if blue was a good color on him.

His phone rang. He scrambled for it as a guy in a suit glanced ominously at him, own phone pressed against his ear. Sapnap bit back the idea of flipping him off, and quickly pulled his phone out, glancing at it, then swiping quickly to answer.

“Hey, sorry, I’m almost there, I think. Baggage claim five? I’m passing three right now, it should be—”

“Look to your left, nimrod.” Karl’s voice was crackly through the phone, but Sapnap does as he said, looking over at the big poster advertising some theme park that Sapnap didn’t recognize.

“You want to go to an amusement park?”

“Other left,” Karl said, and Sapnap turned, looking to his right. Across from him, down on the other end of baggage claim four, was Karl Jacobs, wearing a white collared shit under a grey sweatshirt with a design that Sapnap didn’t recognize, under what appeared to be a fancy ass winter coat. One hand was in his hair, the other holding a phone to his ear, and he was smiling, a smile that Sapnap knew through pixelated cameras and hidden behind giggles and throwaway phrases as they talked late into most nights.

Sapnap had stopped walking, phone pressed against his ear, able to hear the slightest of breathing from Karl through the phone, chest moving in almost perfect synchronicity only a couple paces away. It was weird, seeing him, shining under the fluorescent lights lining the airport ceiling. He felt way underdressed.

Karl took one step forward, and that reminded Sapnap that he was supposed to be walking. So he did. It took one, two, three, four, five big strides, narrowly dodging yet another man in a suit (seriously, how many men in suits can there possibly be here? What was this, Men in Black?), then two more big strides, before he was only a few feet away from Karl, with his nice coat and surprisingly fluffy looking hair, and Sapnap really should’ve at least worn one of his nicer sweatshirts, not the old ratty one he had gotten from his mom for his seventeenth birthday.

“Hi,” Karl said, echoing twice in Sapnap’s ears, and Sapnap brought the hand holding his phone down, call still going.

“This would be my left,” Sapnap said, gesturing with his hand holding his phone, and Karl’s grin got even wider, arms shooting out quickly. Sapnap almost froze, when Karl’s hands connected with his shoulders, but realized that Karl was just hugging him only milliseconds before he was being pulled forward, arms wrapping around him like a warm blanket.

Sapnap didn’t hug people very often, he quickly realized, awkwardly putting his own arms around Karl’s back, hands floating above Karl’s back, like he was unsure if he could touch the other. Half his mind said to pat his back - Sapnap at least knew that wasn’t the answer.

Karl pulled away only a few seconds later, almost like he could sense Sapnap’s uncomfortableness, even though Sapnap really didn’t mind the hugging, he just wasn’t used to it. Karl was a good hugger - his arms were strong, and body was warm. The few seconds were actually nice.

“Uh… hi,” Karl said, awkward in nature, and he laughed a bit, biting back a grin, which Sapnap returned, a bit shaky, unsure of any boundaries that their friendship needed with the sudden change in normality.

“My, uh, suitcase?” Sapnap prompted in place of another greeting, and Karl nodded quickly, holding an arm out, like asking Sapnap to lead the way to their destination, only a few .

They walked towards baggage claim five, where a group of people were waiting for the suitcases rolling out, all watching the conveyor belt with such concentration it was almost a bit weird. And it would be, in any other situation. They both paused in view of the conveyor belt, standing side by side, and Sapnap wondered if Karl thought he was weird in real life, off of a screen.

“I do know my lefts and rights,” Karl said suddenly, and held out his hands in “L” shapes. “This is the left.”

Sapnap looked from his hands to his face, and smiled. “Twenty two, and still having to use that?”

“Sometimes it’s hard for people,” Karl said, fake sadly, before giggling happily.

Sapnap found himself grinning involuntarily, watching Karl giggle happily next to him, in a North Carolina airport, in the middle of December.

It took twenty minutes to finally get Sapnap’s suitcase, in which whatever weird awkwardness from seeing each other face to face for the first time melted away into something… more normal. Karl’s laughs were just as loud in person as they were through a headset, except now Sapnap can’t turn his volume down. But, he really didn’t want to. He liked to hear it, he thought, even as he avoided glances from nearby people.

“So did you eat on the plane?” Karl asked, after Sapnap awkwardly yanked his suitcase off the conveyor belt, an action that felt way more demeaning than it needed to be, hurrying back to where Karl was waiting. He shook his head.

“No,” Sapnap said, and Karl nodded.

“We can stop to get, like, takeout or something? I know you’re probably… exhausted. Planes always make me exhausted.” Karl led him down, past a group of people, and to the sliding doors outside. Sapnap steps outside, and is blasted with freezing air, visibly flinching.

“Jesus Christ,” he said, and Karl looked over, smiling involuntarily.

“Cold?” He asked, chuckling a little.

“Didn’t realize North Carolina was so… wintery,” Sapnap said, and Karl keeled over with giggles.

“You didn’t know North Carolina has seasons?” Karl asked through giggles, and Sapnap wrapped his free arm, not pulling his suitcase, around his torso, hugging himself.

“Isn’t North Carolina on the beach?” He questioned, making Karl giggle even more, which in turn made Sapnap smile a bit, despite his teeth beginning to literally clatter from the cold.

“Not all of it! Plus, it snows all up the east coast. What about New York? It’s known to be snowy there!” Karl said, and Sapnap rolled his eyes.

“I knew it snowed there! Isn’t North Carolina considered the south?”

“It can’t snow in the south?” Karl questioned, and pressed a button on a key fob, a car beeping. Right. Karl had a Tesla.

Sapnap really should’ve worn a nicer sweatshirt.

And a coat.

Karl took his suitcase, putting it in the trunk of his car for Sapnap, then gestured to the passenger side, which Sapnap obliged, sliding into the too-fancy front seat. Karl slid into the driver’s seat, and turned on the car, and Sapnap was blasted with warm air. Sighing dramatically, he held his hands out, warming his fingers. Karl noticed, and began giggling.

“Maybe you should’ve worn warmer clothes,” he said, and Sapnap shot him a glare, friendly, and with barely any heat behind it.

“Thanks for the suggestion, Jacobs,” he said, and Karl shrugged, grinning, while pulling on his seatbelt. Sapnap brought his hands away from the warmth of the vent to copy. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Please tell me you at least brought some warmer clothes. It’s supposed to snow on and off here pretty much the whole week.” Karl put the car in drive, and began pulling away from the airport. Sapnap nodded quickly, looking around the nice car. He noticed a button for what he assumed was a seat warmer, and pressed it, resisting the urge to snuggle deeper into the chair, waiting for the warmth. Karl’s smile seemed pretty permanent on his face, as he shifted in his own seat, and glanced to merge on some road.

“Yeah, I brought some. I just didn’t think it would be this cold,” Sapnap answered, looking out the window. The sun was already setting, pink and orange streaking across the sky, fading into dark blue. It was pretty, Sapnap could admit, reminded him a lot of sunsets in Texas, somehow. Maybe that was normal, maybe sunsets were the same everywhere, but something about it was… comforting. Warming.

“Where do you want to get food? I was thinking fast food, since you’re probably really tired and it would be easier, but if you want something else, that’s fine with me. Whatever you want. I’m just the driver here,” Karl said, and Sapnap shrugged.

“I’m fine with anything. Mcdonalds? I dunno what kinda weird fast food places you have here.”

Karl fiddled with the music volume for a second, some soft song playing out of the speakers. It reminded Sapnap, oddly, of Christmases when he was younger, and would spend days on end sitting with his family doing as typical of Christmas activities that they could in a place that didn’t snow.

He’s sorta a gingerbread house connoisseur, if he did say so himself.

“Sounds good to me. Do you like McFlurries?” Karl asked, settling into his seat more, drumming his fingers mindlessly on the steering wheel. Sapnap wasn’t sure if Karl was capable of sitting still, constantly jittering and bouncing around.

“It’s, like, negative a billion degrees outside,” Sapnap said, and Karl shrugged, giggle escaping his lips once again. He found everything funny. Or his default reaction was just laughing. Either way, Sapnap liked hearing it.

The smile was still etched on his face. Sapnap was decently sure his own was stuck as well.

“Do you want to play music?” Karl asked suddenly, fishing his phone out of his pocket, and handing it over. In their time, with their job, this was basically Karl handing over his soul to Sapnap without a second thought. “You can play whatever you want.”

“I’m not playing High School Musical,” Sapnap said, clicking into Spotify, and Karl feigned hurt, placing a hand on his heart.

“I’m hurt. You’ve wounded me,” Karl said dramatically, throwing his head back with a heavy sigh. Sapnap’s smile grew, just a millimeter larger.

He clicked into the album anyway, selecting a song at random. Karl squealed, giggling even louder, and clapped his hands together.

“Ah, my favorite!” He said happily, returning his hands to the steering wheel and beginning to nod along. Sapnap glances at the phone, then sets it in the cup holder to rest.

Sapnap turned his attention back to the sunset, the purples and pinks streaking across the sky like some kind of abstract painting. He let his head fall against the cool window, hands still tingling a bit from the cold, and let his eyes shut, the sound of Vanessa Hudgens sing-crying about Troy just background music as his mind’s swirling thoughts begin to calm and his hands begin to warm.

He must’ve fallen asleep, or began to, because before he can even comprehend what is happening, or the rest of the song, there’s a hand on his shoulder, and he’s groggily blinking his eyes open. The sky is dark now, all signs of the sunset gone, and the McDonald’s sign in front of them is blinding.

“What do you want?” Karl asks, quietly, and Sapnap realizes there is no more High School Musical music - he must’ve turned it off.

Sapnap mumbles something about chicken nuggets, and Karl nods with a small smile, fingers tapping against the steering wheel like they can’t stop. Sapnap lets his eyes shut again, and listens to Karl order through a half-consciousness. He doesn’t fully sit up again until the smell of fries is under his nose and the weight of a paper bag is in his lap.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, rolling his shoulders back and yawning, peeking into the bag. Karl shakes his head.

“Nah, I figured you would be tired. I got you a milkshake,” Karl said, and pointed to the two milkshakes in the middle - chocolate and vanilla.

“Which one’s mine?” Sapnap asked.

“Whichever you want.”

He took the vanilla one, which Karl looked relieved about.

“How much further till your house?” Sapnap asked, watching Karl glance behind him to merge into a different lane.

“Like ten minutes. You can sleep again, if you want. Or start eating. Whatever you want.” Karl glanced at him momentarily, and they made eye contact, before Karl’s eyes focused back on the road.

It dawned on Sapnap, right then, that he was there, in North Carolina, with Karl Jacobs, for an entire week. Seven days (eight if you counted that day) of uninterrupted time with Karl, and Karl alone. No leaving a call, no Quackity randomly joining to scream at them about something or other, no disconnections due to bad wifi or service. No escape.

Did he want to escape?

Was this a terrible idea, coming to North Carolina? They’ve been planning for almost a month now, working around Karl’s work schedule and Sapnap’s classes. Was the fluttering in his stomach, the heartbeat in his throat, and shaky hands and bouncing knee good things? He wasn’t sure, didn’t know how to get an answer to that question. He glanced at Karl again, at his own tapping fingers and biting lip.

Sapnap pulled a fry from the bag, and Karl holds his hand out for a second, and Sapnap goes to place it into it, but Karl drops his hand and ducks his head, biting it from Sapnap’s hand. Sapnap yelps, pulling his hand back, and Karl giggles, chewing on the fry.

“That’s horrible,” Sapnap said, dramatically wiping his hand on his sweatpants.

Karl’s giggles radiate through the car, and Sapnap wonders if it is what sunsets would sound like, if they could speak.

----

Sapnap woke the next day with the feeling like he didn’t know where he was.

It took him sitting up, glancing around feebly, and rubbing his eyes to remember the day before - the plane ride, Karl, McDonalds, a documentary he half paid attention to, and falling dead asleep the second he hit the bed.

Karl. He was in Karl’s bed - guest bed. In Karl’s house. In North Carolina.

Sapnap rolled over to the side, staring out the window. Karl lived on a street lined with houses, the kind of place you see nuclear families live their entire life in solitude within. It was weird to imagine Karl here, all the time, alone, but he guessed it would be the same if Karl came to see him in Houston. It was still hard for him to imagine Karl having a full life, outside of the screen. It was hard for Sapnap to think about him, here, living his day-to-day life, barely affected by his friends online, like Sapnap was back in Houston.

Except Sapnap was affected, he was sure of it. He didn’t know how, or why, but he was sure his life would be completely different if he didn’t know Dream, George, Quackity… Karl.

He again rolls over, now staring at the ceiling. He could hear noises from somewhere in the house, pans clinking together, cabinets shutting, what he assumed was the refrigerator opening and shutting.

His phone dinged on the bedside table. He reached over, pulling it off the charger he didn’t remember plugging it into, and saw texts from a couple people, a few tweets, but he clicked on the most recent text.

Dream: make it to nc ok?

Sapnap sent back a thumbs up, and immediately got one in return. A thrilling conversation, if he did say so himself. He sat up, and left his phone abandoned in his bed, standing up and stretching. He was wearing plaid pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, and could barely recall putting them on the night before.

He definitely didn’t recall brushing his teeth, so he grabbed his toiletry bag from his somehow already messy suitcase, opened the bedroom door, and beelined towards the bathroom, door shutting behind him. The bathroom smelled flowery, and the mirror was just slightly fogged up in the corners - Karl must’ve taken a shower.

He quickly brushed his teeth, before looking at himself in the mirror for a couple seconds, hands gripping the edge of the counter. He felt a lot more stable than he did the night before, the reality of being in North Carolina with Karl, the worry he had tumbling around in his stomach fading into a soft buzz, what Sapnap thought, assumed, hoped was excitement. Because he was, when he thought about it, excited.

He scrubbed his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes, and took a deep breath, before turning and opening the bathroom door, walking slowly downstairs.

Karl was listening to Christmas music, dancing around in place, staring at his stove. Sapnap stalled in the kitchen doorway, watching him shimmy around for a second, before clearing his throat. Karl jumped, whipping around to look at Sapnap. He held a spatula in his hand, looking guilty, almost like he was caught in the action of doing something he shouldn’t have been doing.

“Morning,” Karl said, fear turning to an easy grin when he realized it was Sapnap. “How’d you sleep?”

Sapnap moves from his spot in the doorway, slowly sinking down on a kitchen island stool. Karl’s kitchen was bright, and felt straight out of some weird Christmas movie - the music in the background, Karl’s plaid pajama pants, the smell of… french toast? “Good. What are you making?”

Karl dramatically holds up the frying pan on the stove with two hands, showing the piece of french toast he was making. Sapnap nods. Karl points to the coffee machine next to the stove. “You want some coffee? I have cream and sugar and those flavoring things and everything.”

Sapnap stood up again, and walked over to the coffee machine. He watched, as he poured himself a cup, Karl continuing to sway to the music, flipping the toast in the pan. He looked calm, in his element, and Sapnap expected to feel like he was intruding on his morning, but he really… didn’t. He walked back over to the island after getting his coffee, sipping it, watching Karl dance, tapping his foot along himself. Karl began to hum, placing the toast on the stack he had already made, before flipping off the stove.

“You like french toast?” Karl asked, bringing the plate over, setting it on the counter in front of Sapnap, a warm smell wafting up into Sapnap’s nose. He realized he actually was really, really hungry, and gave Karl a small smile.

“What are we doing today?” He asked, grabbing one from the plate. Karl slid into the chair next to him, and copied his movement, grabbing his own piece from the pile.

“Dunno. I have a few things that I want to show you, or we could do, or whatever, but we don’t have to do them if you don’t want to. A few are kinda dumb, so we don’t—”

“Run me through them, then,” Sapnap interrupted his ranting, and Karl glanced over to him with wide eyes - his eyes were always like that. Huh. “I doubt any are actually dumb.”

“I… okay,” Karl said, and took a bite from his toast.

And that’s how Sapnap found himself walking into an art museum with Karl Jacobs by his side.

“I dunno if I’ve ever been to an art museum before,” Sapnap said, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, shoulders hunched. The walk from Karl’s car into the museum had only been a couple minutes, but treacherous for Sapnap, even this time with a proper coat. His nose was cold.

“I used to go to art museums all the time with my parents, when I was a kid. My mom loves them,” Karl said, walking towards the welcome desk like he knew what he was doing. Sapnap figured that he had been here, multiple times, and trailed after him, admiring the main room which seemed to be modeled after old greek architecture, with stone pillars towards the ceilings, fancy designs at the top and bottom. The museum was apparently huge, the main room being the center of four stories, all with balconies overlooking the main room.

“Two adult tickets,” Karl was saying to the lady at the desk, who nods, bored, typing on her computer.

“Ten dollars,” she said, and Karl reached for his wallet, waving off Sapnap reaching for his own, handing over his card. Sapnap bit back his complaints for a second, watching Karl take back his card and the two tickets, smiling and thanking the lady.

“I could’ve paid. At least for my own,” Sapnap said as they walked away, and Karl shrugged.

“You’re my guest,” he said, like it was some kind of explanation.

“Still,” Sapnap responded, like it was a rebuttal. Karl giggled quietly, leading Sapnap down the first hallway, nearest to the front desk, into a big room with walls lined with what appeared to be biblical paintings.

“Look.” Karl pointed to a painting of what looked to be just… people standing in a big lawn. Karl stared at it, eyes flicking all over, and Sapnap examined it himself. He didn’t get the appeal.

Karl slowly moved to the next one, and Sapnap followed. This was one of just a lady sitting on a chair.

“A duchess,” Karl murmured, pointing to the little name card and description at the bottom, and Sapnap squinted to read it. A french-looking name he couldn’t pronounce, sometime in the 1800’s, a duchess of a place that, again, Sapnap couldn’t pronounce. Sapnap nods quickly, and Karl glances at him, smiling.

Riveting.

He found himself blindly trailing after Karl - more examining Karl than the paintings that Karl seemed enthralled by. Karl seemed fascinated in every single painting, eyes flicking over every inch of the painting, reading the little description, nodding along with whatever the paintings seemed to be saying to him. Sapnap found it… enthralling. Karl’s eyes seemingly glowed with the art, drawn to the art in a way Sapnap felt like he couldn’t understand.

The next room was pretty much the same - Karl walking slowly around the room, Sapnap following, Karl examining the paintings, Sapnap examining Karl. It felt straight out of a movie - Karl’s wide eyes staring at the paintings, Sapnap watching Karl.

On the last painting of the second room, Karl finally looks over to Sapnap. “Have you been looking at all?”

Sapnap immediately looked to the painting, staring, wide eyed, face flushing almost instantly. Karl giggled, nudging Sapnap with his shoulder. Sapnap is silent, feeling like he was caught red handed, doing something he shouldn’t have. Karl didn’t seem to mind, turning back to the painting. Sapnap tries to stop himself from looking back at Karl, but can’t help it, eyes flicking back to Karl, who was smiling smugly at the painting in front of them, before turning fully towards Sapnap, who, again, looks away quickly.

“C’mon, we can see my favorite part,” Karl said, grabbing Sapnap’s hand, and pulling him out of the room, down a large hall.

Sapnap’s heart skipped a beat. Karl’s hand was warm, finger’s wrapping loosely around Sapnap’s own, grip loose, yet still enough to pull Sapnap along. His hands were soft.

Sapnap was suddenly worried his hands were really cold. And Dry.

Karl pulls him down the hallway, past a few rooms of displays and more paintings. Big windows at the end of the hall lit up the entire hallway, sunlight warm in a way that Sapnap knew outside wasn’t, but it reminded him of Karl’s hands, his smile, his giggles.

Finally, Karl pulled him into a room, and dropped Sapnap’s hand. His fingers felt cold again.

The room, however, was different than the first two. All the paintings and art in front of them seemed to be nature based - frames full of greens and yellows and blues, skies and plants and flowers. There was an old couple examining a giant painting in the back center of the room, holding hands, practically leaning on each other. Sapnap stared at them for a second. Even without seeing their faces, knowing them, he could just tell they loved each other. The man shifts a bit, breaking their hands and instead putting his arm around her shoulders. She leaned up and whispered something to him, and his laugh rang out through the room.

His laugh reminded Sapnap of Karl.

Karl who had moved to about halfway down the room, staring at a certain painting of a bird. Sapnap hurried over.

“I love this one,” he said softly, when Sapnap stepped up to his side. Sapnap examined it - a normal looking bird, the kind you would see outside at any time, on an innocuous branch. Nothing interesting, nothing out of the norm, just a bird, on a branch.

“It’s… a bird,” Sapnap said quietly, and Karl giggled again, soft and under his breath, but still echoey in the large room.

“Glad you got that far,” he responded, and Sapnap nudged him with a faux scowl as Karl glanced up at him with an easy grin to match. “That’s the point though.”

“That it’s a bird?”

“That it’s just a bird. There’s nothing… special, or different about it, but it’s still art. It’s still pretty.” Karl shifted on his feet, and Sapnap could’ve sworn that he shifted closer to him. “It’s still art.”

Sapnap stared at the bird, then glanced over to Karl, who, to Sapnap’s surprise, was watching Sapnap instead. Sapnap held the eye contact, and Karl blinked, once, twice, before a small smile worked its way onto Karl’s face.

“Do you like it?” He asked, and Sapnap looked back to the bird - ordinary in every sense of the word, yet… Sapnap understood why Karl liked it so much. He resonated with the painting, like he could feel what others probably felt when looking at art. A warm turn in his stomach, warming him from the inside out, a sense of peace, a sense of familiarity… a sense of home.

“Yeah, I do.” Sapnap looked back at Karl, who began to grin happily.

“Good. Good, I’m glad.” Karl toed the ground, smiling seemingly to himself, the grin falling a bit to become just a soft smile.

Sapnap liked making Karl smile. And he liked the feeling he got looking at the bird painting. And he liked Karl explaining art to him.

“Show me more. The ones you like,” Sapnap said, and Karl nodded quickly.

“There’s a cool statue on the second floor. You can see his butt, it’s hilarious,” Karl said, and Sapnap dramatically held out a hand, a “show me the way” gesture, but Karl seemed to interpret it differently, grabbing Sapnap’s hand, and pulling him out of the room.

Sapnap didn’t fight it.

The old couple stood, uninterrupted, in the nature room as Karl pulled Sapnap out.

--

Sapnap never found art more interesting than he did walking around with Karl.

They spent almost five hours wandering the museum, Karl showing Sapnap piece after piece, Sapnap pointing out others that he liked, examining random ones together, attempting to understand what the hell would justify a museum to put a canvas of nothing but black paint on the wall like it was some kind of masterpiece.

They didn’t leave until it was almost five, cold winter air biting as they stepped outside, and Sapnap immediately missed the warmth of the museum. He wrapped his coat around him tighter, and pushed his shoulders up to his ear, exhaling harshly. Karl watched, laughing.

“You really hate the cold, huh?”

Sapnap grimaced to the air around him. “What’s the point of the cold if there isn’t even going to be snow with it?”

Karl nodded. “I get that. Winter is a lot more bearable when there is snow. Without it, it’s just… annoying.”

“Horrible. Without it, it’s horrible,” Sapnap said, scrunching his nose up and glaring at the greying sky above. Karl just laughed again, nodding along.

“It’s supposed to snow on… Thursday, I think. So three days. We can go, like, ice skating or something. Something wintery,” Karl said, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

“I don’t know how to ice skate,” Sapnap said, and Karl giggled.

“Figured. Rollerblading?” he asked, and Sapnap shook his head slowly. Karl shrugged. “Eh, it’ll probably be fine. I’ll hold your hand.”

The phrasing alone made Sapnap’s breath catch, just a bit, barely noticeable. He didn’t know why that made his heart flutter, his stomach drop, his lungs gasp for air - it wasn’t like they didn’t just spend five hours on and off grabbing the other’s hands, shoulders, arms, torsos.

Just… Karl saying it, so casually, easily, was… hard of Sapnap to comprehend. He couldn’t understand the boldness that Karl presented, even as normal as it really was. Grabbing Sapnap’s hand to pull him through the hallways of the museum, holding on tightly even as they reached the next room. Grinning at Sapnap as he caught Sapnap staring, nudging him with a smile and giggle, shaking his head in faux-exasperation, not even close to being serious when paired with his soft grin.

Karl was like that, Sapnap began to understand, touchy in a way that Sapnap had never been. He never would’ve known that, knowing Karl through a computer screen, knowing his voice and laugh rather than his hands and hugs. Was he like that with everyone? Sapnap didn’t know, didn’t know how he would begin to know. Was it just him, that Karl was like this? Was it just today, now, in an art museum somewhere in North Carolina as Karl explained the beauty behind a bird painting?

Karl unlocked his car, and Sapnap slid into the passenger seat, rubbing his hands together from the cold. Karl turned the car on, before reaching over and flipping on Sapnap’s seat warmer for him.

“You act like you’re gonna freeze to death,” Karl said, and Sapnap stuck his hands in front of the vents again. Karl rolled his eyes. “C’mon, your hands can’t be that cold.”

He reached over, and grabbed one of Sapnap’s hands. His hands were warm, almost hot, burning Sapnap on contact. Sapnap stared as Karl nodded slowly, taking his hand back, the action over before Sapnap could really process it.

“Damn, Texas boy, your hands are cold.” Karl chuckled, and put the car in reverse, turning to pull out of the spot, as Sapnap sat next to him, hands in front of the vents, wondering why his hands felt like they were burning in the place that Karl touched them.

----

“There’s this outdoor market that I’ve been meaning to go to,” Karl had said over dinner the night before. Sapnap nodded, and swallowed his mouthful of orange chicken.

“Sounds fun.”

It was not fun.

Sapnap stood next to Karl, wrapped in his own winter coat (winter coat for winter in Houston, not North Carolina, to be clear), shivering his ass off.

“Ooh, look, farm eggs,” Karl was saying, wrapped in his own coat. And gloves. And hat. And Scarf. That bastard.

“Nice,” Sapnap said, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. Why was it so damn cold? Walking from Karl’s car to the little market, the grass had been crunchy like it too was also frozen, but there was not even a patch of snow in sight. That morning, Sapnap had woken up to see the yard covered with what appeared to be a dusting, but Karl just laughed and said it was “the dew freezing, it’s gonna disappear soon”, and sure enough, by the time Sapnap had showered and they had eaten breakfast, the white grass had faded back to green.

Nature sucks.

He trailed after Karl towards the stand selling “farm fresh eggs!”, glancing around at the different booths around them. There were food stands, and a bit further down, there were art trinkets, it seemed. He wanted to walk over there, but didn’t want to leave Karl’s side in fear of getting lost in some random outdoor market in who-knows-where North Carolina.

He wished he hadn’t been so goddamn headstrong to accept Karl’s offer of winter gloves that morning. But Karl had laughed at him when offering, and Sapnap wasn’t too insecure, but damn he felt like he had something to prove then.

He really wished he had swallowed his pride and accepted it.

“Is there a difference between brown and white eggs?” Karl asked the lady at the stand, who looked to be in her twenties and the pinnacle of a farmer, with what looked to be overalls under a fleece jacket, hair tied back out of her face. She smiled at them, and responded in a deep country accent, which Sapnap wasn’t sure he knew people had in North Carolina.

Apparently he really just didn’t know what the hell happened in North Carolina. That was all he was learning on his trip.

“Not in nutrition or taste. With farm eggs like ours, there’s no difference other than personal preference, but a lotta big stores and egg farms that are for corporate companies and whatnot like to oversell the brown ones, because they like to push the idea that brown eggs are healthier.”

“But there is no difference?” Karl clarified and she shook her head.

“None. Want me to package up a dozen for y’all?” she said, and Karl nodded. Sapnap tried not to flinch at her referring to them as a “y’all”, like the eggs were for them to share, like there were some kind of…

Nope. Sapnap shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and pushed that thought from his head.

“That’d be great, how much are they?” he began to pull out his wallet, but she shook her head.

“On the house,” she commended, and Karl immediately shook his head in return.

“No way. Support local businesses, and all that. How much?”

Begrudgingly, she took his money, and handed over the eggs in a cardboard carton, tucked into a burlap bag. Karl smiled, thanked her, and Sapnap echoed his thanks, following Karl away from the booth with a wave.

“Ooh, look, Christmas ornaments! You should get one, commemorate your time in North Carolina,” Karl said as they lazily walked towards the art booths. They stopped at the table, smiling awkwardly at the teenager sitting on the other side, who barely acknowledged them. “You should get this one.”

He pointed to a snowflake ornament. Sapnap scoffed. “Hilarious.”

He pushed his shoulders up to his ears again, holding back a wave of shivers. He felt his teeth shake, literally chattering in the cold weather. Karl examined the rest of the table, ornaments of all kinds spread over it, before reaching for the snowflake ornament again. “How much is this one?”

“They’re all ten,” the teenager said, boredom easily noticed in her voice, and Sapnap wondered how she could stand just sitting there in the cold, but realized there was a heater pointed at her under the table. Damn, he wished that was him.

Karl, again, pulled out his wallet, and a ten. Sapnap grabbed his wrist to stop him. “No, c’mon.”

“My gift,” Karl said, pulling his wrist out of Sapnap’s grip, handing the teen the bill, picking up the snowflake ornament. “Thank you.”

They stepped away, and Sapnap, fuming, took the snowflake from Karl’s hands. “You need to stop doing that.”

“What? You’re my guest. I want to treat you.” Karl shrugged, looking at Sapnap’s hands turning the snowflake over and over. “Your fingers are almost blue!”

“I’m freezing, dude. I want to at least pay you back. Let me, at least, like, buy dinner or something.” Sapnap shoved the snowflake in his coat pocket, careful to not break or bend it.

“Fine. And here,” Karl said, pulling the scarf off of his neck, holding it out to Sapnap. Sapnap had to tell himself to not take an instinctual step back. “This’ll help warm you up a bit.”

“No, I’m—”

“Just take it, Sap. You’re gonna freeze to death, then I’m gonna feel like the asshole who dragged you out here. Swallow your toxic masculinity for two seconds and put on the scarf. I’m fine without it, trust me.” He thrust the scarf out further, and carefully, Sapnap took it from him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, pulling it around his neck.

He could smell Karl on it. He could feel Karl’s warmth.

He wondered, blankly, how difficult it would be to sneak it into his suitcase.

“I don’t have toxic masculinity,” Sapnap added on, and Karl scoffed, but through an easy smile.

“Let me see your hands again.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s what I thought.”

--

They drank hot chocolate in the warmth of Karl’s car an hour later, debating where to go for food. Sapnap’s fingers were warm from the paper cup, back was warm from the seat warmer, and neck was warm from the scarf.

“You pick since you’re buying,” Karl said, shifting in his own seat and bringing a knee up to rest his head on, turned towards Sapnap to watch him. Sapnap copied his positioning, staring back, and sipping his hot chocolate, warmth from the drink rushing through his chest as he swallowed.

“You pick since you’re driving,” Sapnap retorted, and Karl giggled, rolling his eyes.

Like this, back and forth, for a few minutes, before Sapnap resentfully suggested burgers, and Karl insisted on “knowing the perfect spot”. (Sapnap got a barbeque burger, then complained about it not being “true barbeque”. Karl got a grilled cheese. They shared a serving of fries.)

They watched a movie (The Social Network), and Sapnap learned that Karl knew the confrontation scene (“the best scene in movie history” according to Karl himself) by heart.

(“‘Sorry my pradas at the cleaners! Along with my hoodie and my fuck you flipflops you pretentious douchebag!’”

“Damn, Jacobs, didn’t take you for an Andrew Garfield fanboy.”

“’You better lawyer up asshole, ‘cuz I’m not coming back for thirty percent, I’m coming back for everything…’ I just really like this movie, okay? It’s a good scene.”

“Be better without you interrupting it.”

“‘I like standing next to you, Sean… makes me look so tough…’”

“You’re such a dork.”)

Karl wished him a goodnight afterwards, and Sapnap could’ve sworn that when he stood up, Karl almost went in for a hug, before just lightly patting Sapnap on the arm, giving him a tight-lipped smile, and disappearing into his own room, all in a flash of a couple seconds, giving Sapnap no time to process.

Sapnap laid in bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering why his arm still tingled where Karl had patted him lightly only an hour before, his neck feeling bare from the loss of the soft scarf that smelled like Karl. He shoved down the urge to get up and make sure the snowflake ornament was safely tucked away in his suitcase (he knew it was safely nuzzled between the sweatshirt he had worn on the plane and a second pair of pajama pants he brought, so he really didn’t need to check).

Eventually, he rolled over, and fell asleep to thoughts of brown, fluffy hair, and the smell of Karl’s laundry detergent on the sheets.

----

“We’re out of coffee,” Karl said when Sapnap walked into the kitchen the next day. Sapnap bit back the urge to comment on the “we”, like it was his house, or his coffee, and pushed himself up, sitting on the counter, watching Karl flip a pancake on the skillet, wearing Spider-Man pajama pants and a sweatshirt advertising what Sapnap assumed was his old high school.

“That’s fine. I don’t need caffeine,” Sapnap said, and Karl looked back at him, grinning, making Sapnap kick one of his legs out like a small child would. The mental image of Karl, standing between his legs, hands on his arms, right where he had patted the night before, flooded Sapnap’s mind for a split second, and Sapnap almost slipped off in shock, tearing his eyes away from Karl quickly. He didn’t know where the hell that had come from, and definitely didn’t appreciate his brain for shoving that image to the front of his mind. Did he want that? Why was that his first thought, seeing Karl in dorky pajama pants, holding a goddamn spatula, hair sticking out in all directions, eyes shiny and bright as usual, practically glowing in the morning sun trailing through the window…

Sapnap coughed, pushing, shoving, those thoughts down, down, down, and hopefully out of his mind.

“I do, though,” Karl said, pointing the spatula at Sapnap, smiling happily. “Want to go get coffee?”

Two hours later, Sapnap was sipping a warm mocha, sitting on a fluffy couch in some independent coffee shop that overcharged because they use “the best coffee grounds”. He had bit back his remarks about the prices of a simple cup of coffee being almost six dollars, especially because he knew if he did, Karl would insist on paying for him, but then Karl insisted anyway, so Sapnap was left scolding that Karl had to pay almost fifteen dollars for two cups of coffee barely bigger than Sapnap’s hand.

“We should explore the town, since we’re out here,” Karl said, gesturing out the giant window to the semi-busy street, people walking both ways with shopping bags, business suits, winter coats and hats, children trailing after their parents, and so on. “There’s this candy shop like two blocks over, this old married couple runs it. They’re absolutely adorable.”

Sapnap nodded, sipping his coffee and propping a leg up on the coffee table in front of him. The coffee shop was warm, a stark difference to the freezing air outside (he swore it somehow got colder from the day before), and it didn’t hurt being pressed against Karl on the small couch, natural warmth that he always seemed to possess radiating off of him, warming Sapnap from the outside-in. He could smell, faintly, Karl’s cologne, the same thing he smelt on the scarf the day before, and was beginning to dangerously associate that smell with comfort, which really just was a slippery slope that Sapnap couldn’t believe he was falling down.

He thought back to the night before, laying in bed and thinking about the snowflake ornament, to the art museum and staring at the bird painting, to their meeting in the airport, the feeling in his stomach, rolling like the ocean, fluttery like butterflies attempting to escape their net. He didn’t know what to make of it all. He felt like he was in a storm of Karl Jacobs, with the sheets smelling like him and his nice smiles and weird insistence to pay for everything, smiles over breakfast plates and in art museums, grabbing his hands, shoulders, elbows. Karl Jacobs was everywhere, like he was drowning in the other’s presence, taking over his mind and senses and lungs until he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore.

“Sap?”

Sapnap jumped, and looked over. The other was staring at him with a concerned gleam in his eye, head tilted, like a puppy begging for a treat.

“You okay? You spaced out there for a second,” Karl said, and Sapnap nodded quickly, knocking the thoughts of pretty birds and cold hands and the McDonalds lights from his eyes.

“Yeah, sorry. Probably just a little tired. I want to see this candy shop.” Sapnap stood abruptly, and Karl almost tipped over on the small couch without the support from the other. Sapnap didn’t hesitate to hold a hand out to help the other up, but when he realized what he was doing, almost retracted his hand immediately, fingers twitching between them.

Karl stared at him for one, two beats more, as if analyzing him, the look scrutinizing in the small coffee shop, almost like he could read Sapnap’s most inner thoughts (or was rethinking his own), before he took Sapnap’s hand and let the other pull him upwards. Once he was on two feet, however, Sapnap dropped his hand, shoving it into his coat pocket and nodding towards the door. His heartbeat was all over the place - that really couldn’t be good for his health.

He led Sapnap down the busy street, through the cold of winter, but Sapnap found himself not wanting to complain. He looked around at all the independent small shops, which looked homely and welcoming (and a very misplaced Trader Joe’s), the kinds of shops you would see adorning the street in some heartwarming Christmas movie. Karl began chattering about each store, how one was where he did such and such with Chris, and oh, he threw up in that one, on and on, Sapnap laughing along the way as Karl giggled through the stories. Sapnap finished off his coffee, throwing it in a trash can as they walked, and put his other hand into his coat pocket, hands freezing and stiff, but he found himself not wanting to complain. He liked this, slow walk through a town center, Karl by his side explaining little stories and tidbits from years before that Sapnap otherwise wouldn’t have heard from the guy. Even as they stepped into the semi-crowded candy store, Karl pointed out which candies he had tried, the international candy aisle, and the mix-it-yourself station, where he pointed out which ones were his favorite.

It was nice, calming. Despite the cold, that Sapnap still wasn’t used to, and the biting wind, Sapnap felt the same warmth he did from Karl’s hands and scarf and smell - though, this time, the warmth curled deep in his stomach, settling like he just ate a nice bowl of soup, heavy yet comforting as they danced around aisles of candy bars, and Karl again insisted on buying Sapnap something, a bag of mixed candy they got to combine themselves (gummy candies for Sapnap, chocolate and peanuts for Karl), before leaving with a little bag of candy swinging between them.

Karl insisted on showing Sapnap his “favorite store ever”, dragging him towards a record shop a block over, and Sapnap found himself getting excited, the warmth expanding, spreading, just slightly, as he watched Karl bounce on his heels and begin ranting about records. He barely even noticed the cold nipping at his nose, biting at his fingers and tips of his ears.

--

They spent about five hours bouncing from store to store. The record shop, in which they got to play a Billy Joel album on the record player there, and Sapnap got to watch Karl bounce around, dancing to Uptown Girl, until a shop worker told him to stop. The local thrift shop, where Karl found Sapnap a sweater with orange and dark blue detailing (“Like your baseball team! The Asteroids!”), and Sapnap bought it without a second thought, once he tried it on and Karl said it looked good on him. Back to the coffee shop, where Sapnap jumped to pay for both drinks first, claiming “it was only fair”, before having to deal with a pouting Karl for a good half hour as they walked a circle around a couple blocks near the coffee shop.

They both began to get hungry, and Karl pulled Sapnap to a diner nearby, which looked, like everything else in the town, straight out of a Christmas movie, with dark oak walls, a jukebox in the corner, and faded red booth tables to sit at, with windows looking out at the street outside as the sun slowly began to fade - clouds were rolling in, slow and ominous, making the sunset more grey than orange.

“What can I get y’all to drink?” The waitress, a lady in her mid-thirties with a flannel on, asked. Sapnap got a coffee, and Karl asked for a chocolate milkshake.

“It’s literally freezing outside,” Sapnap said, and Karl shrugged, smiling happily.

“It’s a really good milkshake. You can try it when it comes, trust me, it’s great,” Karl said, and Sapnap nodded, looking down to the table. He began picking at the napkin placed in front of him, folding it over and over, leaving small creases in the thin paper, as Karl began to stack the little creamer cups into a tower. “I had fun today.”

Sapnap glanced up at him, a smile tipping the edges of his lips up as he watched Karl carefully balance one creamer cup on top of another. “Yeah, me too. A lot of fun.”

Karl looked up at him, and accidentally knocked the tower over, looking back down with a pout. “Damn.”

“Here,” Sapnap said, pushing the napkin to the side, grabbing some of the cups from Karl’s side of the table. “Try making it a pyramid.”

Slowly, he began to build up a pyramid out of the cups, feeling Karl’s eyes on him as he did so. It took him a bit, focusing harder than he normally would (it would be just downright embarrassing to fail), and the burning of Karl’s eyes into his soul made his hands shake just a bit.

He was just putting the final creamer cup on top, the point of the triangle, when the waitress came back with their drinks, Sapnap flailed his hand, knocking the entire tower down, clattering loudly to the table between them. Karl burst out laughing, hitting the table once with his hand as he genuinely wheezed.

“Uh, coffee and a chocolate milkshake?” she asked, ignoring the mess of creamer cups over the table, setting the drinks down in front of them, before pulling out her notepad. “What can I get y’all to eat then?”

Sapnap realized he hadn’t even looked at the menu, and scrambled to open it. Karl, however, just smiled. “The breakfast combo, with the waffles and the pancakes.”

“How’d you like your eggs?” she asked, scribbling it down.

“Scrambled.”

“And you?” she looked at Sapnap, who quickly scanned the menu as fast as he could.

“Uh… just the double waffles. With a side of hashbrowns,” he said, and the lady nodded, taking the menus and walking away. Sapnap looked up at Karl. “That was embarrassing.”

Karl’s giggles rang through the diner, sounding more pretty than the jazz music coming from the jukebox in the corner. Before Sapnap could say anything, though, Sapnap’s phone began blaring, and he scrambled, once again, to grab it, in the process knocking a few creamers on the ground. Karl’s giggles started up again, and Sapnap scolded, answering without a second glance.

“Hello?”

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Oh, hey Dream,” Sapnap said, pushing the creamers away from him and to the side, reaching for the sugar container for his coffee. Karl lit up.

“That’s Dream? Put him on speaker!”

“What are you guys up to?” Dream asked, oblivious to Karl’s insistence, and Sapnap waved off Karl, who slumped down, pouting, bottom lip jutted out like a toddler wanting their way. Sapnap rolled his eyes playfully and nodded to the milkshake.

“At a diner right now. Karl’s drinking a milkshake, even though it’s literally, like, negative fifty degrees outside.” This made Karl grimace even more, grabbing for his milkshake with two hands, taking a sip with an angry look towards Sapnap, before kindly flipping him off.

“Oh, put me on speaker!” Dream said, and Sapnap rolled his eyes again, this time completely seriously.

“Dream, we’re in the middle of a diner.”

“No balls,” Dream mumbled, and Karl set the milkshake back down, before launching forward, reaching across the table, and snatching the phone out of Sapnap’s hands, to his absolute shock.

“What the fu—”

“Hey, Dream! You’re on speaker!” Karl said, pressing the button and setting it down between them on the table, slapping away Sapnap’s attempts at grabbing the phone back.

“You’re eating at a diner? What kind of Disney dinner date is that?” Dream’s voice was a bit staticky through the phone, but there were no mistaking his words. Dinner date. Out loud, between them. Sapnap practically froze, eyes immediately flicking up to Karl, who was staring right back at him, a weird gleam crossing his eyes, twist in his expression, before he began to giggle lightly. It was one seconds, maybe two, but Sapnap felt it - the rejection. The weirdness Karl must’ve felt at being told he was on a date with one of his friends.

Because that’s what they were friends. They could joke around about it online all they wanted, but when it came down to it, Sapnap was just another one of Karl’s friends, separate from the life he lived here, in this small town in North Carolina, with friends he got to see everyday, people he could interact with on the daily, places he could go to whenever he wanted. Sapnap was just that guy from Texas who came to visit and couldn’t handle the cold. No matter what Sapnap, or at least Sapnap’s mind, liked to think, believe, wonder, that was the real truth.

“I’ve been showing him some of my favorite places,” Karl said, voice just a tad bit softer than before, lilt just slightly dropped, as he crossed his arms, and rested his head on top, staring at Sapnap’s phone in front of him. It was because he was tired, because he was trying to be quiet for the other diner-goers. Nothing else. Sapnap shook the thoughts out of his mind, refusing to let his thoughts trail where they really wanted to go, and grabbed one of the discarded creamer cups to pour into his coffee along with his sugar, listening to Karl recount their adventures so far from Sapnap’s trip.

(That night, if he pulled the snowflake ornament out of his suitcase, and sat on the floor of Karl’s guest room staring at it until he eventually lulled off as he watched the first signs of snow during his trip begin to fall outside his window… well, it was really nobody’s business, was it?)

----

The snow, at least, made it feel like winter. Real winter.

Sapnap stumbled his way to Karl’s kitchen almost an hour later than the days before, yawning, and beelining for the coffee Karl had prepared (they had stopped at the grocery store the night before to grab some more since Karl “couldn’t function without a steady source of caffeine, Sapnap you don’t understand, I’ll die without it!”), pouring himself a cup and looking outside to see a coating of snow on the ground just short enough to still see the tips of the grass blades poking out, but snow nonetheless, before turning towards the living room, where he could hear Karl’s TV playing what sounded like cartoons.

“Morning,” Sapnap said quietly, walking in and stepping around Karl’s outstretched legs, taking a seat with his coffee next to him. Karl smiled at him over the rim of his own mug, before mimicking his own greetings. Sapnap watched the cartoon characters, ones he didn’t recognize, bounce around on the screen, before sipping his own coffee and asking, “so what did you have in mind for today?”

Karl just looked at him and grinned over his coffee cup.

--

“They’re too small,” Sapnap whined.

“They’re supposed to be snug,” Karl responded, pulling on his own pair of skates next to Sapnap.

“But they’re pinching my feet!” Sapnap complained, attempting to stand up, almost falling head first into a guy next to them, getting a firm stare. He slumped back down, feeling helpless. Karl stood up almost effortlessly, his own skates secured on his feet, only wobbling a bit, easily finding balance.

“Then go get a size up,” Karl said, and Sapnap glanced at the line of people waiting to get skates that they had just escaped, and shook his head.

“I’ll deal.”

Karl grinned, and held out a hand. Sapnap took it, stomach fluttering for a second before common sense kicked in and he shoved the thoughts back down, taking the gloved hand for help up. He tried to let go, but instantly wobbled, and Karl laughed holding his hand tighter. “I’ll help. It’ll be easier when we get on the ice.”

It felt like a lie, one Sapnap could see coming from miles away, but he shrugged and copied Karl’s shimmy-like steps towards the already crowded skating rink.

“Maybe coming skating on the first day of real snow wasn’t the best idea,” Karl said, chuckling, and Sapnap shrugged. The snow was staying, it seemed, as the temperature dropped even more the night before, giving everything a wintery glow. Just driving to the skating rink, the trees were covered in ice and looked white and crystallized, and Sapnap wasn’t too lame to admit that winter was really, really pretty, when there was snow.

And he had gloves this time, too, so that helped. “It’s alright. Just more people to embarrass myself in front of.”

Karl giggled. “C’mon, you won’t be that bad. It’s just balance and stuff. You’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Sapnap hummed as a way of vague response, continuing to let Karl carefully lead him to the ice. Through the two pairs of gloves, Sapnap couldn’t feel the normal warmth from the other’s hands, but he knew it was there. And, despite the biting cold that nipped his nose and his ears (covered by a hat Karl had given him before leaving his house), he found himself still wanting to feel that warmth.

The ice was… slippery. Icy. A death trap waiting to snatch its next victim.

“Hold onto the side.” Karl directed Sapnap as they stepped into the rink and Sapnap almost immediately bowled over. Karl looked normal, used to it already, still gripping one of Sapnap’s hands, smiling as Sapnap grabbed for the railing, to keep himself from falling over on his ass.

“This sucks,” He said, gritting his teeth as he tried to take a step, and Karl’s giggles rang through his brain, like bells ringing through a church, echoing down through his chest, settling with the warmth in his gut.

“C’mon, it isn’t that bad. Don’t step. Glide,” Karl said, reaching for Sapnap’s other hand, gripping the side. “I’ll show you.”

The stubborn part of Sapnap’s brain wanted to pull back, claim that he could do it himself, prove whatever worth knowing how to ice skate would bring to his ego. But, Sapnap let Karl grab his hand, and glide him away from the wall.

Karl was going backwards, slowly, making sure he wouldn’t run into anyone, keeping Sapnap steady, all at once. Sapnap focused on not kicking, like his instincts wanted to do, looking down to watch their skates glide together.

“See what I’m doing? The slow pushing kick?” Karl asked, demonstrating again with likely over exaggerated slowness, and Sapnap nodded, attempting to copy. He almost immediately began to fall, and Karl tightened his grip on Sapnap’s hands smiling. “Just glide for a bit, why don’t you. Get used to the ice first, then you can learn to do it yourself.”

So that’s what he did. One lap, then two, then three, of the little outdoor skating rink, Karl gripping both hands, leading him in circles, watching their feet, behind him, the sky… anywhere but Sapnap’s face.

He wondered if it was because of Dream’s comment, the day before. Karl had been quieter since then, a little less excited, bouncy.

Or maybe that was just because it had been four days already and Karl was getting used to Sapnap’s presence. He hoped he was comfortable around Sapnap - it would suck if he wasn’t. That morning, they sat for almost an hour, legs curled under their bodies, watching cartoons while drinking their coffee. Karl didn’t mind Sapnap seeing him with messy hair, in pajama pants, wearing a ratty sweatshirt that he must’ve owned for years. It was… comfortable, at least to Sapnap. Homely, in a way he couldn’t really describe as anything else.

“You want to try again?” Karl asked him after three laps of gripping hands and looking anywhere but the other’s eye. Sapnap nodded, and slowly, Karl let go of one hand, turning to be at his side instead. “Just gently push, keeping the foot on the ground, though. Like if you were scootering.”

Sapnap laughed at the analogy, and did so, feeling himself lurch forward, but he somehow kept his balance, folding over a bit, but also going forward a bit by himself. Karl grinned.

“Good! See, you got this. Try with the other foot. Go back and forth, slowly though! One push, wait, another push. We’re in no rush.”

We. Karl was staying by his side. He didn’t mind the grandma pace, the shaky movements, the need for a hand to hold. Sapnap looked over at him, and Karl met his eye. They stood, staring at each other for a second, slowly moving forward on the ice. Sapnap opened his mouth, like he was going to say something, but even he didn’t know what to say, what he wanted to say. Part of his brain whispered to lean in and close his eyes. Sapnap almost even listened.

Then an eight year old rammed into Sapnap’s side as he skated by, and Sapnap went careening to the ground in a pile of limbs. Karl lost it, wheezing so hard he lost his own balance and went down, too, landing next to Sapnap on the ground in complete hysterics.

“Leave me here to die,” Sapnap said, causing Karl to just laugh harder, as the eight year old skated away with a devilish laugh.

--

“Look at this one,” Sapnap said, pulling up the hem to his sweater, showing the nasty blue bruise he had on his side, where the kid had rammed into and he had hit the ice with. Karl, sitting on the couch, went wide eyed, sitting forward to look at it.

“Jesus, that one’s horrible, I’m sorry.”

Sapnap dropped the hem of his shirt, shrugging, taking a seat next to Karl on the couch. His hair was damp from the shower, dripping a bit on his shoulder at one point, but he ignored it. Karl began absently flipping through Netflix on his TV. “Not your fault, it was that demon child. If you look closely, you can see where his devil horns imprinted.”

“It’s a little sad that a kid took you down so easily,” Karl said, and Sapnap whacked his shoulder, feigning offense.

“What the hell!”

Karl giggled and shrugged helplessly, looking down at the remote in his hand, before back up at the TV. “I’m glad I don’t have bruises on my hands, though, with how hard you were squeezing them.”

This made Sapnap freeze, glancing over at Karl with a bit of guilt in his eye. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“I’m joking, Sap,” Karl said, kicking Sapnap lightly from the other end of the couch, tucking his legs under him then. “I was happy to help you.”

Sapnap didn’t really know how to respond to that, nodding slightly and biting his lip, eyes training on the TV as Karl continued to flip through Netflix. He copied Karl’s movements, tucking his own legs under himself, curling a bit into the mold of the couch. Karl settled on a movie that Sapnap didn’t care enough to catch the name of, before standing up and grabbing a blanket, throwing it over Sapnap with a smile. Sapnap smiled back. “Thanks.”

The movie was ambient noise in the background, as Sapnap let himself relax fully, rolling out his shoulders, and cracking his neck. His body was sore from skating, and his feet ached from the pressure that the too-small size had caused, as well as blisters around his ankles, but he shook the pain off, and stretched his arms up above his head, before accidentally catching Karl’s eye, watching Karl go wide eyed and immediately flick his eyes back to the movie.

Sapnap wouldn’t think anything of it. He couldn’t. He liked his and Karl’s friendship, he liked Karl’s pats on the shoulder, and grabbing of Sapnap’s hands, the giggles and smiles and weird stares he caught Karl doing sometimes. He worried that doing anything, saying anything, that was even a bit outside the norm of… whatever weird friendship boundaries they had established in his time in North Carolina would just lead to misery for both parties.

He knew Karl. Karl who was sweet and kind and caring, who would probably, if asked, either lie or be forced to let Sapnap down very very carefully, in fear of hurting his feelings. Sapnap didn’t want Karl to lie, didn’t want to make Karl uncomfortable, didn’t want to jeopardize the little bit of Karl he got.

“You look tired.”

Karl’s words shot through Sapnap’s thoughts, and he blinked back to awareness, realizing he had zoned out staring at Karl, who just smiled and said, “there you go, you’re back.”

“Sorry. I am,” Sapnap said. It was true - skating took a lot out of him, falling multiple times, getting bowled over by a ten year old, the cold weather biting at his nose and ears and eyes.

“Why don’t you go to bed?” Karl suggested, and Sapnap went to respond, but his own body cut him off with a yawn. Karl giggled, causing Sapnap to smile slightly, sheepishly. Karl tilted his head, letting it loll against the back cushion of his side of the couch, watching Sapnap with that same weird gleam in his eye that Sapnap kept catching, but couldn’t name. “You know you have dimples?”

Sapnap brought a hand up, poking at his own cheeks as his smile dropped, and Karl giggled yet again, shaking his head. He then, to Sapnap’s shock, leaned forward, and pressed his thumb into Sapnap’s cheek, just a few centimeters from Sapnap’s mouth.

“Smile.”

Sapnap followed the command, and Karl smiled back.

“There it is. And one on the other side.”

He brought his pointer finger up, poking the other cheek. Sapnap’s smile dropped as he sat, frozen, feeling Karl’s fingertips touch his skin, hand cupping his jaw, lighting his nerves up. Karl’s own smile faded to something similar to shock, mixed with that look from before, the look Sapnap wanted to dive into, explore to no ends, study like an archeologist whose entire career depended on it. Sapnap’s own mouth fell ajar, and Karl’s hand dropped from Sapnap’s face, falling between them on the couch, and it took all of Sapnap’s power to not reach out, grab it, hold it, make it cup his face again, feel his warmth, his touch.

“You…” Karl’s voice was soft, like silk and a fuzzy blanket and a heap of snow coating the ground during a snowstorm. “You should go to bed. If you’re tired.”

“Yeah,” Sapnap said, voice low, quiet, raspy. Feelings, the cold, the late night, the tiredness, combining to make Sapnap sound… like a completely different person.

Then, before he could do anything else, Karl pushed himself upwards, standing, staring at the TV. The movie was barely five minutes in, still showing credits at the bottom of the screen. Karl blinked once, twice, then looked back down at Sapnap. “I’ll see ya in the morning?”

All Sapnap could do was nod, and watch Karl nod in return, one last fleeting look before he disappeared into his room, door shutting with a click behind him, leaving Sapnap, alone, in the living room, feeling even colder than before.

----

Sapnap awoke at ten the next morning, phlegm heavy in his throat, unable to breathe out his nose, practically coughing up his own lung.

Which wasn’t good.

He sat up, violently coughing into his elbow, before sniffing, feeling a bit lightheaded from the abrupt awakening and subsequent choking on his own snot. Gross.

Of course he would get a cold. Of course his first time in the real winter weather he gets sick. Just his luck. Karl would probably be grossed out, some sick guy slumming around in his house, and he would be ruining whatever plans Karl had made for them - he thought back to the list Karl had told him about at the beginning, all the activities Karl had planned, had wanted to do, and Sapnap was basically ruining it.

A knock on his door shook him out of his thoughts, and he looked over, head pounding as he turned too fast.

“Sapnap?” A muffled voice from outside. Karl.

“Yeah, come in,” Sapnap called, voice cracking, sounding extremely raspy. He coughed, trying to clear his throat, and the door creaked open. Karl stood, in the doorway, in pajama pants (blue with monkeys on them - how many pairs of pajama pants did he have?), looking worried.

“Could hear you coughing all the way downstairs… you alright?” Karl asked, and Sapnap opened his mouth to respond, instead coughing violently again.

“I think it’s… a cold,” Sapnap said, sniffing loudly. Karl grimaced, taking a step forward into the room, but Sapnap held a hand up. “Don’t, you don’t want to get sick.”

“If you got it from the cold yesterday, I don’t think that’s how it works. Besides, I don’t really care. Can I feel your forehead?” Karl asked, taking another step, socked footsteps muffled on the carpeted floor.

“Can you what?” Sapnap asked dumbly, and Karl gestured plainly, looking about as awkward as Sapnap felt. He was still sitting, in bed, barely half awake, as Karl stood in front of him, offering to… touch his face.

“Like, for a fever or something. It’s what my mom used to do,” Karl explained, gesturing again. “See how hot you are running or whatever.”

Sapnap couldn’t bring himself to respond, just nodding slowly, watching groggily as Karl approached, kicking a knee up onto the bed, and leaning over, placing his hand over his forehead. His hand was hot, sending shivers down Sapnap’s spine. His fingertips felt like lightning bolts touching his skin, lighting up his nerves, and Sapnap was barely aware of the sheen of sweat across his brow.

“Yeah, you feel a little warm. Just a cough, though?” Karl asked, pulling his hand away and leaving Sapnap’s forehead sweaty and chilled. Sapnap sniffed, and shook his head.

“Headache too. And stuffy nose.”

“I have tea that’s supposed to help with sore throats? C’mon,” Karl said, gesturing, and grabbing Sapnap’s hand. He barely had the mind to register it, nodding and letting Karl pull him out of the bed without a second thought, willing to really follow him anywhere.

--

“I’m sorry for ruining your plans for today. We could still do something? I don’t feel too bad,” Sapnap said, almost an hour later, as they sat on the couch once again, mirroring their positions the night before. Sapnap was practically curled around a cup of tea, apparently chamomile, but Sapnap barely had the mind to think about the flavor other than “warm tasting”. He had woken up a bit more, become a bit more conscious, and though his throat still ached and he couldn’t breathe out of his nose, his headache was fading steadily.

Karl looked up from his phone at the other end of the couch. He had been lazily scrolling through something for most of the time, eyes flicking between his phone and The Office on TV. He shook his head slightly. “No, seriously, don’t worry about it. I’m sorry you got sick. It was my idea to go skating, but it was probably way too cold. I’m sorry.”

“What? No, don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. I really liked skating. If anyone was to blame, it was that rat kid who ran into me yesterday. Probably sneezed on me, or something.”

Karl began giggling, and Sapnap cracked a smile. Karl shifted, curling more into the couch. “It’s kinda nice to spend a day in, too. We should do something fun, like… oh! We should make a cake!”

“I don’t really know how to bake,” Sapnap said, but Karl just waved him off.

“Neither do I, that’s what makes it fun!”

That’s how Sapnap ended up standing in Karl’s kitchen, measuring cupfuls of flour, with a red apron tied around his waist.

“This was a bad idea,” Sapnap said, dumping the cup into the bowl Karl had given him. “That’s two cups of flour. What’s next?”

“Don’t sneeze in it. Gimme,” Karl said, holding out his hands. Sapnap placed the bowl in it, then began to dramatically breathe in, faking the beginning of a sneeze. Karl yelped, jumping back with the bowl, scowling as Sapnap grinned cheekily. “Why is it a bad idea?”

“I’m just getting my germs all over… everything. You’re gonna get sick,” Sapnap insisted, gesturing to all of the cooking supplies, ingredients, and appliances on the counter in front of them. Karl glanced at it, then shrugged, dumping whatever he was measuring into the flour.

“Nah, it’s fine. Like I said, I don’t think you can get other people sick if it’s a cold from… the cold. And anyway, I don’t care if I get sick.”

“I do,” Sapnap found himself saying quietly, barely picking up on Karl’s eyes flicking up to him as he does so, wide and streaked with confusion.

“Well, uh, thanks…” Karl said, a lilt in his voice as his words seemingly settle around them in the kitchen. It was the weird tone in his voice that made Sapnap pause, contemplative, as he watched Karl spoon out cocoa powder into the bowl.

He wasn’t sure if it was his sick brain, his semi-exhausted mind, or the cold finally freezing whatever reliable brain cells he had left, because for some reason, he felt like there was a shift in their shared space. He had felt it, briefly, that morning, when Karl had walked into his room - no, into his own guest room. It wasn’t Sapnap’s room. It was just the room that he was staying in for the time being. Not his.

“Can you get the milk out of the fridge for me?” Karl said after a beat of silence, and Sapnap realized he had been staring at Karl for a bit too long to seem normal. He rushed to comply, grabbing the carton, trying to shake the slow, sick-ridden thoughts out of his mind and focus on their cake.

--

The cake didn’t turn out edible. Or, maybe it was technically edible, but neither Karl nor Sapnap wanted to eat it.

Karl poked at the practically rubber cake in the pan, grimacing. “I dunno what I expected. I’m a horrible baker.”

“You’re pretty decent at cooking, though. I’m pretty much crap at both, so… no surprise there.” Between that, and the sickness still pulling him half towards sleep even while standing up, Sapnap wasn’t sure if he was very good help to Karl anyway.

Karl continued to poke at it sullenly, shrugging.

“Barely. I can barely manage to make breakfast, not even talking about a whole cake!” He sighed, pushing the pan away from him dramatically. “Do you think there are places that doordash whole chocolate cakes?”

Sapnap chuckled, following him back to the living room. Karl dramatically flopped down on the couch, leaving Sapnap to awkwardly sit by his feet on the other end. Karl then kicked his legs up, dropping his feet into Karl’s lap, to his surprise. He didn’t say anything, watching Karl shimmy a bit to get comfortable, and sigh contentedly.

“Why am I so tired?” he asked, checking his phone. “It’s barely one in the afternoon. We haven’t even done anything.”

“Dunno, I am too,” Sapnap mumbled, the edges of his brain feeling the tickle of tiredness edging closer and closer, the cold obviously not helping.

“We should take a nap or something,” Karl suggested, stretching like a cat across the entire couch. Sapnap would’ve quipped something about how Karl was acting like an old man, how he already looked half asleep, maybe even brought up the cat analogy, but instead, his brain zeroed in on where Karl’s shirt rode up a bit as he stretched his arms above his head and over the edge of the couch, patch of pale skin doing more to stun Sapnap by just its sheer presence than anything else before this seemingly cursed trip.

He found himself agreeing, a mumbling sure as he stared at Karl’s torso, the patch of skin disappearing as his arms returned to the sides of his body, but just the idea that it was under the sweater - which still had flour dusted over it, how did he live like this? - was enough to hold Sapnap’s drowsy brain.

“You need to lay down to sleep,” Karl mumbled, cutting through Sapnap’s foggy mind, the idea of a nap pushing the drowsiness more and more towards the front of his brain, and Sapnap let his eyes trail up from Karl’s stomach to his face, where Karl was blinking at him with tired (albeit still almost unnaturally large) eyes, head tilted as he looked at Sapnap.

“Not enough room,” Sapnap said, forcing a laugh through his words, hoping the awkwardness he was feeling, laced with sleepiness, wasn’t as noticeable to the other as it was to himself. He watched Karl tilt his head, like he was calculating something, thinking hard, considering his options, and shifted a bit in his seat out of uncomfortability by the intensity of the stare. There was something about Karl’s gaze that… got to Sapnap, in a way he couldn’t really comprehend. It was like Karl was studying him, reading his soul like an interesting book, so easily that Sapnap felt exposed, sitting there on that couch. There was a lot about Karl that Sapnap couldn’t quite comprehend, but he found himself itching to reach out, to memorize the gaze, to see in Karl what Karl must be seeing in him.

He really, really wanted to know what Karl was seeing.

“Just lay down with me,” Karl said, voice soft and echoey through the room, yet still steadying to Sapnap’s quickly fading consciousness. He was exhausted, and a quick couch nap would be heavenly. There weren’t any other implications about it other than that… right? Sapnap continued to sit there, staring at him, until Karl sat up, just a bit, grabbing Sapnap’s arm. “Here.”

He began maneuvering Sapnap into laying down, pressed between Karl and the back of the couch, heads facing each other, and Sapnap’s mind woke up a bit with the single thought that he hadn’t brushed his teeth the entire day, which… gross. Karl didn’t seem to mind, however, laying with him, looking at Sapnap, arm wrapped around Sapnap’s back to keep himself from rolling off the edge. His eyes blinked, big and tired and drooping, staring straight into Sapnap’s soul, and Sapnap wondered if Karl could hear his thoughts, they felt so loud.

“I don’t want to get you sick,” Sapnap mumbled after a second, and Karl paused, grinned slightly and shifted every slightly towards Sapnap, the closeness practically drowning Sapnap as the warmth of Karl’s body mixed with the heat from his cold and likely fever, as Karl’s eyes warmed his chest to a point where he knew, wildly, that he would never be this warm again, without Karl there.

“I don’t care,” Karl responded, and Sapnap let his eyes slide shut, head feeling a bit more clear, nose a bit less stuffy, breathing in the scent of Karl, the warmth of Karl, the presence of Karl.

His last conscious thought was wondering how he was going to live without the boy going forward.

----

Sapnap woke up the next day with a pounding headache, practically sweating through the bedsheets.

His memory of the day before was… hazy, to say the least, as sickness clouded his thoughts and memories. The cake they tried to bake, the documentary they watched after the nap (something about some haunted hotel? Sapnap was pretty sure he fell asleep during it), trailing off to bed after taking two Advil to fight off his looming headache (obviously it didn’t help).

He remembered the nap, though, vividly. Karl’s hands on his stomach and back as he held on to keep Sapnap from falling off, the smell of Karl breaking through his stuffy nose, the feeling of Karl under his own arms when he woke up to find the other practically on top of him, stretched on top of him like a cat, arms wrapped around his stomach and back like his life depended on it, head resting against Sapnap’s chest.

Sapnap had laid there, staring at him, for a good five minutes, before Karl shifted, and began to stir awake, at which Sapnap shut his own eyes and pretended to be asleep still. He wasn’t sure how well he pulled it off, considering he could feel his own heartbeat in his throat, but Karl didn’t say anything, and Sapnap obviously didn’t bring it up, so it hung, heavy, between them as the night had continued on.

Sapnap stared at the ceiling, throat feeling gooey, head pounding. The light from the window, sunshine bouncing off of the lasting snow outside on the lawn, hurting his retinas even as he just laid there. The room was chilly around him, and he hoped that meant that his fever broke, but couldn’t tell just laying there.

After a minute of trying to will away his headache (which was terribly unsuccessful), Sapnap forced himself to roll over, grabbing his phone from the bedside table. There were a few missing texts, one from his mom, a few from Dream, one even from George, but he ignored them, forcing himself to sit up, head spinning.

A knock on his door caused his head to ache, but he muttered a come in, and the door creaked open.

“Morning.” Karl stepped in, awkwardly hovering near the door. It was a bout of shyness, which the deep part of Sapnap’s mind, the one that instinctually wanted to reach for Karl, search for his warmth, was confused by - they spent an hour and half literally cuddling the day before, was there any reason for Karl to be shy from being in Sapnap’s space? He looked at Sapnap sitting, grimacing at the air around him, and shifted in his place by the door. “Feeling any better?”

“Sorta. I think the fever’s gone, but my head hurts,” Sapnap said, pressing his fingers to his temples. The sun was still too bright, Karl’s presence even brighter, and as much as Sapnap appreciated his presence (and he really did), his head apparently didn’t.

“Aw.” Karl twisted his lips and furrowed his brow, tilting his head, and Sapnap thought that he looked a bit like a sad puppy when he did that. “Do you want some tea? Or food or something?”

Sapnap nodded, and moved to get out of bed. He could feel Karl’s eyes on him as his feet hit the carpet, and he stretched his arms over his head, stifling a yawn. Outside, the last of the snow, not melted by the sun, was patchy against the green grass, still bright enough to make Sapnap squint and turn away.

He trailed after Karl, down the stairs and into the kitchen, and noticed that, despite him having literally just rolled out of bed, Karl was wearing jeans and a sweater already. “Are you goin’ somewhere?”

“We’re out of, like, everything. No milk, and the only bread I have left is bagels. And I saw on the news that there’s supposed to be a snowstorm rolling in in a few days, so I really need to go get some stuff. I was gonna ask you to come, and you can if you want, but I sorta… doubted you would.”

“I wouldn’t want to sneeze all over the produce,” Sapnap said, sliding into the same counter island chair as he had every single day before. If he was a braver man, he probably would’ve started to consider it his own chair. But he wasn’t a brave man, so he curled his legs under him and watched Karl open the kitchen cabinet he had all of his tea in.

“Makes sense. I’ll only be a little bit, though, okay? The store is, like, five minutes away, it’ll be quick. I feel horrible for leaving you, though. Do you want chamomile or another kind?”

“Don’t feel bad. It’ll be good - I’ll get more rest today, then tomorrow we can have one last big day together. Surprise me on the tea.”

When Sapnap said “last big day”, Karl glanced over at him, eyes sad, shoulders slumping just a bit, barely noticeable unless you were looking for it, which Sapnap was. Sapnap realized, then, that the next day would be just that - his last day there. Despite being a week already, he really didn’t want to go, didn’t want to leave North Carolina and Karl’s warm house and the freezing, biting air outside. And, again, the deep part of Sapnap’s mind, the one that itched to reach out and grab onto Karl, to never let the guy go, felt the smallest pang of satisfaction, of comfort, that Karl also seemed to be bummed out that Sapnap would be leaving soon.

“When is the storm supposed to come in?” Sapnap asked as Karl turned on his kettle, leaning against the counter facing Sapnap.

“The day you leave, but later, like at night, so you will miss it, don’t worry,” Karl said, smiling, and Sapnap smiled back. His head was still pounding, pressure building in his temples almost unbearable, but Karl’s smle made him melt, made the headache subside, just a bit, warmth beating it out for a brief second.

He still was trying to comprehend what that all meant - the warmth in the pit of his stomach, the fluttering everytime that Karl smiled at him, the itching need to grab him, hold him, soak up the warmth of Karl’s skin like he was on a beach soaking up the sun. It was a new feeling for Sapnap. He wasn’t sure how to cope with it, or even understood what it was.

Was it love? He barely could ask himself the question, staring at Karl across the kitchen from him, in a light blue sweater, fluffy hair flush against his forehead, and Sapnap really just wanted to run his fingers through it, see if it was as soft as it looked. Did that count as love? That felt like… a crush. An attraction, sure. Maybe that was all it was. Attraction. Sapnap could deal with an attraction.

Except… his heart fluttered for more. His laugh echoed through his ear, like a bug buzzing near his ear, nearly impossible to ignore. His smile was permanently ingrained at the front of his mind, flashing everytime he closed his eyes, consuming his thoughts and dreams and life. He wanted to do anything that would make Karl smile, never wanted to see it fade, see it fall. He wanted to make him laugh, wanted him to giggle and cackle, the loud, squeaking laugh that always seemed to sneak up on him, too quick, too happy, for him to cover up, cover his smile, like he sometimes did with other laughs. That sound continued to echo through his mind, along with the smile, with the hair and the sweater and his eyes and his warmth.

Karl set down a mug in front of him, and Sapnap jerked back to reality, staring wide eyed at Karl, realizing he zoned out, staring at Karl. Karl smiled, awkward tinges noticeable in his slightly wonky smile. “You okay? You zoned out there for a second.”

Sapnap looked down at the tea in front of him, and wrapped his hands around the mug, artificial warmth from the ceramic almost burning the palms of his hands. “Yeah, sorry. Just a little outta it, I guess. What is this flavor?”

“Peppermint. According to google, it’s supposed to help headaches,” Karl said, waving his phone in his hand as a means of explanation. Sapnap nodded, and took a small sip, practically burned by both the heat and the mint flavor. He wasn’t a big fan of mint flavored things, reminded too much of toothpaste, but Karl was watching him expectantly, and again, Sapnap would hate to be the reason Karl was anything but happy, so he nodded.

“It’s good, thank you.”

Karl grinned happily. “Good! Yay. Okay, I’m gonna go because I hope it’s not gonna be that busy because it’s still pretty early. Help yourself to any food, alright? You’re sure you’re okay here?”

“Karl, I’m an adult, I can stay home alone like a big boy,” Sapnap said, and Karl grinned, nodding quickly.

“Right. Call me if you need me, though, okay? I’ll only be gone like an hour.”

“I’m getting flashbacks to babysitting. Do the kids have a potty schedule as well?” Sapnap joked, and Karl giggled. Sapnap’s heart panged in success.

“You were a babysitter?” Karl asked through the giggles, grinning happily. Sapnap pressed his lips together and raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you have errands to run?”

“They now seem wildly unimportant compared to this. Do you know how to change diapers?” Karl leaned forward on the counter, grinning like this was the best news he’d ever heard.

“Yes.” Sapnap was pretty sure if he wasn’t sick, he wouldn’t be sharing this information.

“Did the kids like you?”

“I hope so.”

“I bet you were so nice to them,” Karl said, and Sapnap almost wanted to believe he sounded… wistful, while speaking. Like he was really thinking about it. Sapnap looked down at his mug and forced himself to take a deep breath.

“Sure, until we got out MarioKart. Then I wasn’t afraid to roast some children on the tracks.”

Karl laughed, again, straightening up. “You didn’t let them win?”

“Hell no. They got to learn about defeat at a young age, Jacobs. I was not about to let an eight year old get an ego.”

“That’s adorable,” Karl said, but it was quiet, again in that same odd tone. Sapnap wondered if he was supposed to hear it, but he was right there, only a few feet away from him, looking straight at him.

Sapnap looked up, and stared back, mug burning the tips of his fingers. He took another deep breath, then two, and let his gaze drop back to the mug in his hands. “Go run your errands.”

Karl was quiet for a second, before a soft chuckle erupted, filling Sapnap’s ears like an orchestra during the happy ending of a movie. The chuckle reminded him of the music that played when the two main characters finally kiss after an entire movie of will they, won’t they, when fireworks explode, when the villain finally falls and the hero is victorious. Sapnap wanted to stop time, if only to be able to listen to the chuckle again and again for the rest of time, and he would be content.

Karl left a few minutes later, leaving Sapnap still sitting at the kitchen counter, gripping the mug like a lifeline, with a promise that he would be back in an hour. Sapnap waved with one hand as he stepped out of the house, and Karl waved back, door shutting behind him.

Sapnap counted one, two, three, then grabbed his phone from the counter next to him, and clicked open his contacts.

The phone rang, once, twice, and cut off halfway through the third.

“Hello?” Dream’s voice was quiet, raspy, and Sapnap remembered it was only a bit past nine, and he wouldn’t put it past Dream to still have been asleep, but, if Sapnap was being honest, he really didn’t care.

“I’m screwed, dude,” he said, pushing the mug away, and letting his head clunk to the counter with a groan.

--

“Okay. First off, breathe.”

“I am breathing.”

“Breathe better. Not like you just ran a marathon.”

Sapnap allowed himself a few deep breaths, heart feeling like it was going to beat him to death from the inside. He just spent the last ten minutes ranting to Dream about what was happening - about Karl’s smile and laugh and the warmth and his hands and the butterflies in his stomach. Dream had listened in, quiet, and if not for the quiet breathing Sapnap could hear through the speaker, he would’ve thought Dream wasn’t even on the other end of the call. When he had eventually stopped, breathing heavily like just admitting everything had genuinely wounded him, Dream had been silent for a few beats, processing (or judging) what Sapnap had just spilled.

“Good. Now. Is Karl there?” Dream asked, and Sapnap heard something rattle on the other end of the phone, along with a soft meow, and Dream’s hushed, “I’m getting it Patches, don’t be greedy.”

“How is she?” Sapnap asked, and heard Dream chuckle blandly on the other end.

“She’s fine, don’t change the subject. Where’s Karl?”

“Getting groceries. Big storm is supposed to roll through in a couple days, and he needs some stuff.”

“Gonna mess with your flight home?”

“He doesn’t think so. Not supposed to start till later that night.”

“So you like him.” It was blunt, said with no fancy wording, no sugar coating. It stung Sapnap, a bit, even if he knew it was what he needed right then. His head continued to pound, and he took a long sip of his tea, still burning the top of his mouth.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

Sapnap sighed and pressed his forehead to the counter. It was cool against his pounding head, but he barely registered the feeling. “I don’t know.”

“Don’t know if you like him? Or what to do?”

“Either. Both. All.”

Dream was quiet for a few beats on the other end, and Sapnap wondered just how much of an idiot he sounded like. Here he was, sick, calling his friend to decipher his own feelings about another one of his friends. Who, mind you, spent the last twenty four hours taking care of his sick self, making sure he was comfortable and feeling alright. And, instead of thanking him, or really even appreciating him, Sapnap was there, worrying about himself and his own feelings instead.

God, he was a dick.

“Well… I can’t tell you how to feel, or what you feel. That’s all you. But…” Dream sighed quietly, and Sapnap sat up, eyes squeezed shut from the pressure of his head.

“But?” He echoed in Dream’s silence.

“Karl is a good guy. Nice, bubbly, excitable… seems right up your alley, Sap,” Dream had apparently settled on saying, but it was enough.

Sapnap thought about it. Nice, bubbly, excitable, laugh enough to light up the room. He got flashes of crushes in the past, of nice girls and boys with loud laughs, with warm hands and warmer personalities, always melting Sapnap’s heart one giggle, one grabbing of his hand, at a time.

“Oh,” Sapnap found himself saying, like the revelation of Karl being just his type was enough to shake the words right out of his brain. Dream just laughed again, quietly.

Sapnap sat there, phone pressed to his ear, and stared at the place where, just a few days ago, he had thoughts about kissing Karl, against the kitchen counter with the smell of breakfast cooking in the background. The thought that he could see himself staying, there, in the warm house, the horrible weather outside doing nothing to dissuade him flew to the front of his mind, and he realized it wasn’t anything but Karl doing that - it wasn’t the house, or the nice little farmer’s market or the art museum, but Karl’s cooking, his insistence to get Sapnap a stupid snowflake ornament, his hand in Sapnap’s as they floated through hallways to look at painting after painting. It was Karl.

“I like him.”

“Yeah, no shit, man,” Dream said exasperatedly, and Sapnap rolled his eyes smiling.

“Thanks, Dream.”

“I did absolutely nothing, but you’re welcome.”

“So what do I do now, then?” Sapnap said, the light feeling from the revelation sinking, when he realized that realizing feelings wouldn’t be the end of anything, by any means. Did he have to talk to Karl about it? Would he have the guts to?

“Talk to him.”

“But—”

“Look, I can’t tell you what to do, or even what would be the best thing for either of you. But…”

“But?”

“Karl is a good guy. A great one. And it makes sense, you two. It… works.”

Sapnap sighed, and dropped the phone to the counter, putting the phone on speaker. He pressed his hands to his temples, rubbing them, then the heel of his hands to his eyes, until yellow stars burst in his vision and his head swam a bit. “Maybe when I’m here, it would. But what about when I leave in two days? I can’t expect him to… wait for me, I guess?”

And the thing was, Sapnap didn’t even know if that was where this was heading. He wasn’t sure if Karl’s habit of grabbing his hands, his soft smiles, his showing Sapnap his favorite spots of his town, was anything other than platonic. He couldn’t tell. Half the time, he wanted to think it was, wanted to read into the soft smiles and quiet giggles, the blinking, wide eyes. But the other half, the half that screamed at him at night, when he woke up dreaming about swimming in Karl’s eyes, told him it was unreasonable. Why would Karl like him back? They were friends, that was it. If Karl liked him, he would’ve made a move by then.

Unless he was waiting for Sapnap.

Or just didn’t like him.

Sapnap groaned, and then blindly hung up when he heard Dream’s cackle on the other end of the phone.

--

Sapnap got up from his spot when Karl got back to unpack the groceries, but not knowing where half of the things went made him a pretty bad helper.

“Ooh, alfredo sauce,” Sapnap said quietly, pulling a jar of premade sauce from the reusable bag (of course Karl used reusable grocery bags. Just liked to kill Sapnap’s heart more and more), glancing at the label. “This is the kind my mom used to buy.”

“Good, I’m making pasta tonight!” Karl said, happily putting away some fridge items (he had only been able to find almond milk left at the store - Sapnap wondered if all northerners reacted to mildly bad weather with blind panic like in the south; he had very specific memories from when he was younger of his mom rushing him and his siblings to the grocery store when hurricane alerts sounded, so it must’ve been the same with northerners and snow.

“This is, like, my favorite sauce,” Sapnap said, not thinking about the implications that Karl would randomly choose a sauce that happened to be Sapnap’s favorite. He wasn’t about to start thinking about soulmate shit that would just send him into a deeper spiral.

“I know, that’s why I picked it.”

Karl’s head was deep in the refrigerator, reorganizing the shelf to fit the egg carton from the farmer’s market in with the rest of his newly bought items, so he didn’t see Sapnap freeze, whipping around to look at him, eyes wide and heart even wider. Sapnap was certain that, if Karl had happened to look over in that exact moment, that exact second, he would’ve been able to read everything single emotion that Sapnap felt clearly written across not just his face, but his whole body, his whole being.

Karl picked it. For Sapnap specifically in mind. Because he remembered Sapnap saying it was his favorite. Sapnap didn’t even remember telling Karl it was his favorite. But Karl apparently did.

Sapnap barely got control of his thoughts when Karl closed the fridge and glanced over, sheepish in Sapnap’s silence. “You sent me a picture of it once, when I asked what you were having for dinner, and you said it was your favorite. Pretty easy to pick out the jar.”

Sapnap looked down to the jar in his hands, then back up at Karl, and he realized that, for once in his life, for one fleeting moment, as he stared at Karl, who was staring right back, he was completely speechless.

And completely in love with Karl Jacobs.

----

Sapnap awoke the next day with the smell of pasta still fresh on the mind, alongside Karl’s eyes, laugh, and warm hands.

He stared at his ceiling, like all the days before, and realized, happily, his headache had gone.

And, if he didn’t focus on it too hard, he could breathe, just a bit, out his nose.

Progress.

He grabbed for his phone on the nightstand, and opened a message from Dream that he had missed the night before, somewhere in between eating pasta with Karl by his fireplace, and whooping Karl’s ass at uno, some TV show playing in the background.

dream: how’s the bf

Sapnap sighed, and shut his phone off, staring out the window. The bright light was still blinding, but even from bed he could see the snow was half melted now, green grass peeking through like a mystery discovered under the blanket of white.

His phone said nine in the morning, and Sapnap sat up to stretch his arms out. He could still feel the tinges of a cold, the sides of his mind a bit foggy, his nose just barely able to breathe, but he felt leagues better than the last two days. And, he was decently happy with that. He would’ve hated for his last day in North Carolina to be Karl babying him again.

Flashes of Karl dancing to music as he made pasta the night before, socked feet kicking around like some kind of weird mating dance, as Sapnap watched on with a smile, flashed through his mind. Karl’s grin when Sapnap nodded happily after taking a bite, Karl’s own hum of satisfaction at his own work when he copied the bite a few seconds later. Sapnap biting back comments about how using sauce from a jar wasn’t real cooking, but he also was decently aware that Karl probably didn’t know how to make sauce, plus the sauce tasted great anyway, so Sapnap wouldn’t complain.

He sat up, and shivered at the cool air, wondering blankly if Karl never turned his heat on, and got up to pull a sweatshirt out of his suitcase.

As he dug through for a clean sweatshirt, one Karl hadn’t seen him sneeze into the sleeve of, he poked himself on the side of the snowflake ornament, still resting daintily in his bag. Picking it up slowly, as if afraid to break it, Sapnap examined it for what felt like the billionth time.

It wasn’t even the best craftsmanship. The little spokes poking out were all just a bit uneven, and the glitter was already flaking off in some parts. Sapnap was pretty sure if he squeezed it just a bit, it would crumble in his hands.

Yet, after a few beats of staring at it, he tucked it away again, cushioned by his clothes, safe from the outside world, and grabbed a sweatshirt at random, pulling it on as he walked out of his room - the guest room, and downstairs to the kitchen.

“Morning!” Karl said, just like every morning before, sitting at the kitchen counter, on his phone. “How’d you sleep? Feeling any better?”

“Yeah, loads, actually. We can actually do something today, if you want, I’m feeling pretty good,” Sapnap said, heading over to pour himself a cup of coffee. Karl grinned from the counter, nodding.

“Good, I’m glad. I have an idea where we can go, since it’s your final day, and stuff, and I want to make it the best,” Karl said, and Sapnap’s heart hurt, just a bit, to hear him call it his last day. He didn’t want to leave, didn’t want to leave behind Karl and his warm hands and happy smiles.

Dream’s words echoed in his head, as he poured himself some coffee - it makes sense, you two. Was he right? How could Sapnap even find out? It’s not like he could straight up ask Karl, he would never have the balls to do that.

He brought his cup over to the counter, and realized he never responded to Karl, and nodded quickly. “Yeah, whatever you want sounds fun.”

Whatever you want. Karl smiled happily and went back to scrolling through his phone, and Sapnap sighed, sipping his coffee. Karl looked so content, legs curled up to his chest as he sipped his own coffee, and laughed at a tweet, showing Sapnap with a grin. Sapnap chuckled, and watched him out of the corner of his eye, aware of his hands - one holding his phone, the other tapping an inconsistent pattern on the counter - and his hair and chest, steady breathing in and out, in and out.

“What did you have in mind?” Sapnap spoke up, and decided he wasn’t going to ruin the day - do anything stupid that would get Karl mad at him, or uncomfortable, or do something he didn’t want to. Because, in the deep, dark part of his chest, he truly thought that if he confessed, if he told Karl everything, Karl would just go with it. He was too nice to say no, to let Sapnap down - easy or otherwise - and would just… not. And he would suffer. And Sapnap didn’t want to put him through that. He wasn’t cruel. He…

He wanted what was best for Karl, even if that meant shoving down the feelings, suffocating the butterflies, choking on his own words and thoughts and actions, keeping them from bubbling to the surface. For Karl.

He just needed to get through this day, this last day, then it would be over and done with. The bittersweet thought crossed his mind, as the clock ticked steadily towards ten, and he realized that, twenty four hours later, he would be boarding a plane to leave Karl, and North Carolina, behind.

And the same deep, dark part of his brain was perfectly okay with it.

That stung even more.

--

Karl gave him his scarf again, in the car.

“You’re gonna be cold. You know, scarves and gloves are meant to keep warmth in, not provide warmth. That’s why you’re supposed to, like, put on gloves and scarves before leaving heating.”

“I didn’t know that,” Sapnap said, taking the scarf from Karl’s hand slowly. “You sure you aren’t gonna be cold?”

“I’ll be fine. You won’t be, Sick Boy. Just put it on.”

Sapnap followed orders, and slipped it around his neck, doing the loop thing that Karl had shown him before. They were on some weird gravel road, and it reminded Sapnap, strangely, of going places in high school, when he and his friends would drive the back roads of suburban Houston, laughing as music blared from whoever’s truck was running the smoothest that week. It reminded him of tailgating at high school football games, of driving his siblings around, taking turns sharply on roads definitely not meant to have cars go above maybe twenty-five to make them squeal in excitement. Being in Karl’s nice Tesla, though, felt different.

The cars of his memories didn’t have seat warmers. Or, if they did, they weren’t used, forgotten buttons never pressed, as windows were rolled down to let the crisp air of the country roads flow through the car, waking him up with the smell of freshly cut grass and grimace with the occasional smell of skunk.

“How much further is this place?” Sapnap asked, worried that with the practical off-roading Karl’s poor car was doing his headache was going to come back.

“Just a little bit, don’t worry.” Karl shifted in his seat again, and Sapnap noticed he seemed to always be antsy in cars. He wasn’t sure if it was the car itself, or Sapnap’s inability to hold a normal conversation, sometimes, but Karl just seemed to be uncomfortable half the time they sat in a car together.

It took ten minutes of practically off-roading, and then another five finding a parking spot, before they were leaving the warmth of the car, headed towards the fairgrounds a bit away from the parking lot. Sapnap could see the top of a ferris wheel - fuck ferris wheels. He really hoped Karl wouldn’t try to force him on it.

Sapnap was grateful for the scarf then, hunching his shoulders up to try and collect the warmth, transfer to his cheeks and nose that were exposed, and freezing. The tips of his ears already felt like they hurt, and they’d been out of the car for less than a minute.

They trailed slowly behind a family towards the entrance, quietness between them. Sapnap knew he should say something, anything, but couldn’t bring himself to start up a new conversation.

He had one day left in North Carolina, and he couldn’t even talk to Karl normally. Figures.

Karl insisted on paying for Sapnap’s ticket, which made Sapnap fume for a second, watching him hand over his card. When Karl turned around from the ticket booth, two bright blue entrance tickets in hand, he smirked at Sapnap’s frown.

“Oh, can it. It was, like, ten dollars. Buy me a hot chocolate and we’ll call it even,” Karl said, and Sapnap took the ticket from him, still frowning, but more so a joke then. Karl nudged him, and when Sapnap dramatically “hmph”-ed like a pouty child, he just rolled his eyes and giggled. “Fine. A hot chocolate, and you win me some carnival prize.”

“Deal,” Sapnap said, holding out a hand to shake on it. However, Karl grabbed his hand and just held it, staring at the hands, then Sapnap.

Sapnap looked away, and squeezed, just barely, just once. Karl squeezed back, barely felt through two gloves.

--

The sun sets fast in winter.

And it’s colder at night, than in the afternoon.

They spent two hours trailing around the carnival, scurrying through the haunted mansion (why there was a haunted mansion at a winter festival, Sapnap didn’t know, but at least there were snowflakes hanging from the ceiling in it, so it was a little on theme), and laughing through a mirror maze (they had to spend twenty minutes sitting on a bench outside to make Karl stop feeling light headed and dizzy). They got the aforementioned hot chocolate after that (Sapnap did, in fact, pay) and then went around playing all the carnival games (it took about six tries for Sapnap to win something at the ring toss, but he won a glorious blue bear and dramatically presented it to Karl like a gift from the gods).

Another hot chocolate for each of them, and they sat on a bench near the ferris wheel, watching the sunset.

“We should go on it,” Karl had said, looking up, but Sapnap shook his head quickly.

“Absolutely not. Sorry, Jacobs, you won’t catch me dead on a death circle.”

“It’s not a ‘death circle’! A billion people have probably rode it, it’s not gonna break!”

“Do you know that for sure?”

They bickered their way through the sunset, before falling silent with grins on their faces. Sapnap leaned back against the bench, fingers almost numb, and nose and ears bright red, but he didn’t notice, or care. The hot chocolate was warming his stomach, Karl’s smile was warming his heart, so it really didn’t matter.

And, as they watched people begin to trail towards the exit, the line to the ferris wheel become shorter and shorter, until there wasn’t even a wait, the sky a light purple around them, Sapnap took a breath, stood up, threw away his hot chocolate cup, and then nodded towards the wheel. “C’mon, there’s no wait.”

“But you said—” Karl stood up, holding his own empty cup, and Sapnap took it from him gingerly.

“Yeah, I know what I said. But you want to go. Let’s go before I lose my nerve.”

Karl grinned, watching Sapnap throw away his cup, then gesture towards the ride with a steeled expression.

They had to wait for the rotation to finish, and watched other people get off, giggling happily. Karl let Sapnap get into the seat first, and then slid in next to him. It wasn’t too small of a seat, but their sides were still pressed together. The operator brought the bar down in front of them, gave some speech about not rocking the seat, checked it was locked, and before Sapnap could breathe, the ride lurched forward.

Sapnap squeaked, and grabbed Karl’s hand, instinctually. Not even because it was Karl, or anything, but out of pure terror.

Sapnap guessed he never thought about how ferris wheels work, because it took forever to get to the top, stopping every couple feet for the next group to get off and the new group back on. Karl squeezed his hand every time the ride lurched a bit, and Sapnap squeezed his eyes shut, gripping Karl’s hand in one hand and the safety bar in the other, regretting every moment leading him there.

Eventually, the ride lurched, then didn’t stop, and Sapnap peeked an eye open to see them going up, up, up, over the top, then backwards back down.

“This sucks,” Sapnap mumbled, voice taut with anxiety, and Karl squeezed his hand again.

“I’m sorry,” Karl said, and Sapnap didn’t have to look at him to know that he was grinning.

Eventually, they were down again, then going back up, continuously, until it lurched to a stop again, and Sapnap’s stomach dropped.

“Open your eyes,” Karl spoke quietly, and Sapnap shook his head minutely.

“I’ll hurl.”

“Okay, don’t if you’re actually gonna, but you should look. It’s cool,” Karl said, and Sapnap took a steadying breath before peeking open his eyes.

They were at the top, overlooking the trees. Way below, the carnival lights were bright and colorful, shades of blue and purple and pink. The parking lot was stretched out away from them, and a hell of a lot of trees.

And the sky. The sky was purple, a deep, rich color, and getting darker, but over the trees some pink and blue and orange were seen, the lasting remnants of the sunset clinging onto their final moments of life.

“Woah,” Sapnap said, involuntarily, unexpectedly. It was… beautiful. It was like the sunset his first night there, that he watched through the car window on the way to Karl’s house from the airport. The kind that pictures wouldn’t do justice, that would stay in his mind forever, coloring his memories on his time there.

So beautiful, he almost forgot where he was, and tried to look down, rocking the seat, and yelping when his stomach turned.

“Woah, careful,” Karl warned, but was laughing a bit, so Sapnap knew they weren’t in danger.

He trusted Karl to know that.

Looking over at Karl, who was looking down at the carnival, he felt it again - the warm, fluttering feeling from before, the one from the art museum, the feeling he got when watching Karl make breakfast, when Karl came back with his favorite food to feed him when he was sick.

Karl’s eyes were bright, and his nose was red from the cold. Higher up, it was much, much colder, somehow, and Sapnap could see both of their breaths, clouds between them, like their own ecosystem was forming right in front of their eyes. He imagined a life where they were snow clouds, white flakes coming down to rest on their shoulders, in their hair, dancing on their eyelashes.

“Look how tiny they look,” Karl said softly, barely heard over the whisper of wind around Sapnap’s ears. Sapnap assumed he was talking about the people below, but he didn’t look - he, instead, stared at Karl’s eyes and nose and ears and mouth, slated in a small smile, like he couldn’t help but, when up there.

When Sapnap didn’t respond, Karl looked over at Sapnap, and Sapnap was suddenly, vividly, aware of how close they were, shoulders and knees pressed together, hands clasped together in a grip so tight Sapnap wasn’t sure he could actually feel his fingers, noses no more than a foot apart.

“Yeah,” Sapnap said, like he was answering Karl’s question, but whispered like he was talking about something else completely, something secretive and quiet and meant to be shared between just them.

And he swore, he swore that Karl’s eyes flicked down to his lips, swore that the red of his cheeks became more pink, swore that his breath caught, just a bit, the cloud in front of their lips becoming still as neither of them dared to even breathe.

The butterflies fluttered, and fluttered, expanded to flutter in his lungs and his legs, feeling the fluttering in his fingers and nose and ears, spread everywhere like a warm blanket, like Karl laying on top of him, like he was on a beach basking in the sun. He never wanted to leave the warmth, never wanted the butterflies to fade away, to leave him, never wanted Karl to stop staring into his eyes.

And then Karl looked away.

And the butterflies died in his stomach, like some collector came along, snatched them up, and decided they were better left on display, not of use. The second gone, the butterflies dead, leaving Sapnap sitting, at the very top of a ferris wheel, staring at Karl, who was examining the carnival below like it peaked his interest.

(Hours later, after a quiet drive home - to Karl’s house, music softly playing in the background as Karl tapped his fingers anxiously against the wheel, offbeat and sporadic, Sapnap would curl up in his - Karl’s guest bed, and wonder what the hell he did wrong. He would lay there, staring out at the black sky he could see from his - from Karl’s guest bed, and wonder what would’ve happened if he had leaned forward. He would roll over, staring at the ceiling, the fan still above his head, and think about how Karl’s lips would’ve felt on his, how he missed the butterflies, how he wished, begged, for himself to not be such an idiot.

He would pull his knees to his chest, again staring out of the window and the purple long faded from the sky, ignoring the tears pooling in his eyes, slipping down and staining the pillow, and realize that he missed his one shot, he missed a whole plethora of shots that entire week, and now, he didn’t have any left. He thought about how he would get on a plane the next morning, leaving North Carolina, leaving Karl’s warm hands and warm home and freezing state, having missed his last opportunity to let the butterflies deep in his gut thrive.)

In the moment, though, he felt Karl’s hand slip from his, and it took all of his willpower to not grab, hold on, desperate for his touch, even through two gloves, even through layers of fabric. The ride lurched beneath them, and the lurch in Sapnap’s stomach wasn’t from that, but instead from the rejection, the death of the butterflies, the realization that the moment that everything had been leading up to, the fleeting moments in the museum, in Karl’s house, at the farmer’s market, the coffeeshop, and even at the fair, what it all had been leading up to had slipped through Sapnap’s fingers, just as quick as it had been placed there, gone from his grasps before he could even catch his breath.

And, if Sapnap was being honest, it really fucking hurt. Knife to the back, life shattering news, hurt.

That night, his eyes would squeeze shut, tears leaking through the corners, and he would eventually fall asleep, head pounding and heart bleeding.

He would dream of nothing but clouds made of warm breaths and the color of Karl’s eyes.

And, the next morning, he would wake up to an alarm blaring, and, if he was being honest, he was sorta glad to be leaving all these heavy emotions behind.

He would wake up with a tight face from the tears, and would wipe away crust from his eyes, sitting up, surprisingly not blinded by the sunlight outside like every morning before.

He would wake up, and stand up to look out the window, because outside, snow was coming down, had been coming down - so much so, he couldn’t see the street or the grass or even where the yard of the house across the street started, barely even able to see the ground at all through all the snow still tumbling heavily through the grey, lukewarm sky.

He would wake up to the horrifying, terrible, awful realization that the storm had hit a few hours earlier than predicted.

The butterflies were back, razor sharp and deadly in the pit of his stomach as he yelled for Karl, watching the snowstorm in full swing outside.