Chapter Text
Sapnap could never hate Karl’s lack of planning. Even if he felt opposite and strange at times, it wasn’t bold enough to frustrate him.
Especially not when he was waking up on a Sunday morning, the harsh morning light streaming through their windows, a squint to his eyes as he searched the room for Karl; he was standing by his desk with a thoughtful look on his face, half-dressed with hair unkempt and no reason to look so adorable.
Sapnap couldn’t handle it. The wrinkled pajama pants, the sweater that was too nice to be worn to bed, the furrow to his eyebrows and the scrunch of his nose. What he was doing could barely count as staring, but he was certainly looking, sleepy eyes and all.
Karl hadn’t noticed him yet. Maybe he was too wrapped up in his own head.
Despite how much he would’ve loved to sit there and gawk, Sapnap was the one who broke the silence. And his voice tumbled raspy and sleep-deprived from the part in his lips, mind still hazy and pent-up on the weekend.
“Mornin’.”
Karl jumped. Sapnap grinned.
“Sorry,” he mused, sitting up straight in bed with a stretch set to his back. “Did I scare you?”
A quiet laugh tumbled from Karl’s lips, and he ran a hand through his messy hair. The furrow was yet to leave his eyebrows.
“No, no,” he mumbled with soft insistence, shaking his head slightly. “Just startled me.”
And it was Sapnap’s turn to laugh. Without nerves, without an urge to fill the space; he laughed in earnest, carding a hand through his own hair even if it wasn’t hanging in his eyes then.
“Same difference,” he argued with a shrug, earning a pouty frown from his roommate in return.
“Shut up.”
Sapnap laughed again, light and airy. He stretched his arms up over his head with the sound of amusement dying on his tongue, dragging himself up and out of bed to stand in the place beside it. Rubbing two fingers against the bridge of his nose, he looked at Karl inquisitively, attempting to read him when half his face was hidden from view.
He was looking down, but there was still a thought in his eyes. As Sapnap’s hand fell away from his face, he took a single step closer to Karl, cocking his head to the side was a lax ease that still clung to threads of tired.
Motion drew Karl’s attention. He looked up at Sapnap curiously.
He looked cute like this, confused and muddled. It made Sapnap smile just a little bit wider, soft and fond and borderline.
“What’re you thinking about?” Sapnap queried, and he watched confusion settle over his roommate’s face.
“Huh?”
A breath of mottled laughter spilled through Sapnap’s nose. He shook his head slightly, and it only made Karl look more suspicious than he already did.
“You,” he shot back. “You’re thinking. What about?”
And Karl’s face tinted pink with assumed embarrassment, eyes flicking back down to the floor. Sapnap took another step closer to him, feet heavy on the carpet and hands loose at his sides.
“Plans,” Karl answered. “For today.”
Sapnap shrugged with tired ease, wandering in the direction of his wardrobe. “Your pick, Jacobs.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Sapnap caught the moment when a light lit up behind Karl’s eyes. The grin on his face carved wider, ivory and cheek-splitting where it radiated off him. Sapnap almost raised an eyebrow, but he turned back around instead.
Hands caught around the door to his wardrobe. He heard Karl shift behind him, and he wondered how much longer he could put up with how sickeningly adorable his roommate was being.
If he was going to end up being like this all day, Sapnap didn’t know what he’d do.
“I know.”
Karl’s voice rang softly over his shoulder. Sapnap found a hoodie in his closet, turning the sleeves right side out as he turned around to face Karl again.
With a nod, he gestured in his roommate’s direction.
“So, pick,” he instructed without demand. “And finish getting dressed.”
And he turned back around. In silence, they both got dressed, and Sapnap waited until he couldn’t hear the shifting of unfolded denim or the click of Karl’s belt buckle before he turned around. By the time he did, he worried he’d overcompensated, but Karl didn’t seem to have anything to say about it (if he’d even noticed anything at all).
They were still quiet. Sapnap hummed lightly to himself, but other than that, the room was silent. It was comfortable—it always was—and Sapnap got his keys off his desk just for something to do with his hands. He stared down at them as if they were the most interesting things in the world, dragging fingertips against the keys where they were laid across his palm.
“Sap,” Karl’s voice came suddenly, bright and giddy with the jerk of his head. “I got it!”
Sapnap raised an eyebrow, curling fingers around his keys as his hand fell back to his side. They made a quiet sound, gentle and nearly invisible. “Got what?”
“An idea!” Karl exclaimed, bouncing slightly on his toes. Sapnap made a vague gesture in a tell for Karl to continue, and he did. “Have you ever been roller skating?”
“Not since I was a kid,” Sapnap remembered, frowning slightly. “Why?”
A grin broke out on Karl’s face, prideful and giddy. A quiet version of his giggle hid beneath his tongue, sneaker-clad feet twirling slowly back toward the door.
“Karl,” Sapnap said slowly, and it ached like a warning.
Feigning innocence, Karl said, “Huh?”
“You have that mischievous little look on your face,” Sapnap accused, pointing with his key-carrying hand.
Karl just tipped his head to the side, jutting hip landing against the door. The unbridled mirth to his face persisted, certain smirk unyielding where it curved across his face.
“There’s a roller rink nearby,” he said, implications careful behind his teeth.
“Yeah?” Sapnap asked, halfway to rhetorical. He twirled his keys around his finger. “You wanna go?”
Karl scoffed. “Duh.”
Sapnap smiled, walking over to the door to reach around Karl. “I’ll need directions, but,” he shot Karl a glance, “let’s go.”
They get to the roller rink rather quickly. According to Karl, sometimes their university used it for events, but only because it’s so close. It felt a little too good to be true, but Karl was excitedly dragging Sapnap up to the front door, anyway, fingers laced together just as they had been in the gardens last week. Sapnap had to pretend it didn’t still make his heart go crazy.
And Karl didn’t let go of Sapnap’s hand once they got inside. He led him over to the rental counter with their palms still slotted together, the sound of wheels on smooth hardwood falling distant when Sapnap was busy giving his undivided attention to the boy at his side.
“So when was the last time you went roller skating?” Karl asked, pulling them into line behind a few too many strangers.
“I don’t know,” Sapnap answered, frowning as he tried to remember. “A while ago. Probably middle school at the latest.”
“I used to go every other week in high school,” Karl boasted, looking over at Sapnap with bright eyes. “So you can hold my hand if you’re scared of falling.”
Sapnap huffed out a laugh. “I’m already holding your hand.”
He squeezed Karl’s hand as if in emphasis. Under the awkward neon lights of the roller rink, he thought he saw Karl’s cheeks turn slightly pink.
“Then you can hold both my hands.”
Sapnap laughed again, and they were at the front of the line. He had to let go of Karl’s hand so he could get his card out, paying for both of their skate rentals seeing how it was his turn. Sapnap settled to give up on arguing it—since he would be paying next time, anyway—so he just rattled off his shoe size when prompted and took the pair of skates from Karl’s hand when he turned.
They took a seat on a bench to swap out their shoes. Sapnap sat and watched Karl run over to a set of shelves in just his socks, putting their shoes away with everyone else’s before he bothered to get wheels on his feet.
As Sapnap was tying off his second skate, he muttered, “Is now a good time to admit I have terrible balance?”
Karl giggled, tightening his laces. “Maybe a little late,” he said, “but I told you you can lean on me.”
With a huff, Sapnap countered, “You never told me that.”
“Well, you can lean on me,” Karl repeated, rising to his feet with enviable ease. “I won’t let you fall.”
Sapnap stared up at him weakly, wheels already slipping on the carpet. “Promise?”
With another giggle, Karl echoed, “Promise.” He extended his hand out towards Sapnap where he still sat on the bench, a bright smile outlasting the darkness of the room. “Now come on!”
Hesitant, Sapnap reached up to take his hand. Obviously, it wasn’t the first time he’d held Karl’s hand, but it still felt slightly strange. Especially when Karl was all but shaking with excitement, dragging an unsteady Sapnap out to the roller rink proper.
Perhaps it got worse when they hit the smooth wooden floors. Sapnap’s knees wanted to buckle and take him to the floor, and he thought that if Karl let go of his hand, he might do just that. But his palm was being squeezed between tight fingers, and he squeezed back, trying to move his feet the way he saw everyone else doing it to start their first lap around the rink.
Karl turned to look over his shoulder as they moved, speed slowing absentmindedly at the rink’s turn. Sapnap did his best to smile at him, but even he felt the expression waver, unsteady legs dividing his attention in two.
“Sap!” Karl called over his shoulder, laughter drowned out in the noise of the rink. Between the music and the chatter of other skaters, it was a miracle Sapnap had heard him speak at all. “Are you getting the hang of it?”
Shaking his head quickly, Sapnap exclaimed, “No!”
Quickly, Karl spun around completely, now skating backwards. He was moving with just as much ease as he was going forwards, and though their speed was still a bit slower than it should’ve been, Sapnap was still surprised by his dexterity. Strangers on roller skates breezed past them both, leaving Karl with all the space he needed to nearly come to a stop.
He held his free hand out towards Sapnap, easy and inviting. “Hold both my hands!” he called out, and Sapnap was quick to oblige the request.
He held both of Karl’s hands, letting him lead around the rink going backwards. They took circles at a slow pace, muttered instructions for footing and unlearned movement filling the space between them. Eventually, as Sapnap’s balance got a little better, Karl shifted to be at Sapnap’s side, bracketing an arm across his lower back.
Sapnap did, in fact, lean on him—like, properly. He felt like he was putting a little too much of his weight on Karl’s side, but Karl didn’t seem too bothered by it, leading their way around the rink as the movement got a little easier with every turn. Even still, Sapnap draped an arm across Karl’s shoulders, and he had to swallow his surprise when his roommate shifted to hold onto Sapnap’s wrist.
“Better?” Karl asked, squeezing gently in both places he was holding Sapnap.
Nervous, Sapnap cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said, “I guess it’s not as difficult as I remembered.”
“It’s kinda like riding a bike,” Karl offered, sweeping them around another corner, “or learning to swim, maybe. The point is it’ll always come back to you.”
“I mean, I guess,” Sapnap muttered. “But I think this is harder than riding a bike.”
Karl laughed. “For some people, maybe.”
“For me,” Sapnap countered.
“For you.”
They made a few more laps with their arms around each other, no longer left completely in the dust by strangers following the same path. As Sapnap got a little more comfortable with it, he agreed to have Karl let go of him completely, and he almost felt like a kid learning to ride a bike with no training wheels as Karl praised his balance.
But Karl stayed at his side even once he was doing alright at remaining upright on his own, smiling the whole time. Eventually, though, he did take Sapnap’s hand again, holding it a little looser than before.
“You don’t have to hold my hand anymore,” Sapnap said softly, though he was squeezing Karl’s palm anyway.
“I know,” Karl said, flippant. “I just want to.”
Dumbly, Sapnap whispered, “Oh.”
He didn’t know why he was acting surprised.
Karl had held his hand all the way through the botanical gardens when his balance was fine, and the whole way through the rental line. It was still a little weird, because they hadn’t held hands at all since last Sunday, but Sapnap was alright with it. If anything, he was more upset at all the time between than he was at being held like this, but he would never admit that.
And when they left the roller rink a little while later—citing boredom with the same repetitive motions—Karl held his hand all the way through the parking lot. In the car, when Sapnap put both hands on the wheel, Karl left his own sitting against the center console, as if he was trying to say something in silence.
Cautious, Sapnap reached for it. He held Karl’s hand a little awkwardly as they drove the short way back to campus, and he tried not to think too hard about it as he was pulling into his parking spot at the lot beneath their residence hall. When he looked to the passenger seat where a silent Karl was sitting, he found him on his phone, tapping at something unseen. Sapnap squeezed his hand gently.
“Do you always hold your friends’ hands?”
At that, Karl looked up sharply. His cheeks looked slightly pink in the early afternoon sun.
“Um, most of them,” he admitted, slightly sheepish. “In high school, I did a lot. It’s kind of a habit.” Wordless, he loosened his grip slightly on Sapnap’s hand. “If you don’t like it, though, I can stop.”
“No, no, it’s alright,” Sapnap said quickly, nervous laughter splitting his lips. He squeezes Karl’s hand to make up for the gained slack. “It’s just not something I’m used to, but I don’t mind.”
“Okay,” Karl whispered. “You’ll… you can tell me if you change your mind, though.”
“Yes, sir,” Sapnap joked, searching for the amused laughter beneath Karl’s tongue.
They only let go of each other’s hands because they have to, getting out of the car rather quickly. Their retreat back up the stairs to their dorm came easy and contactless, but the moment they got into their room, Karl sought to end that quickly. He got a Monster from their fridge as Sapnap climbed up onto his bed, checking his phone for texts he wasn’t going to answer and the time he had scarcely just seen.
Rather suddenly, Karl appeared along the side of his bed. With a bright purple can in his hand, he asked, “Can I sit with you?”
“Sure,” Sapnap said, scooting a little closer to the wall. “Just don’t spill on my bed.”
Karl giggled. “I’ll be careful.”
And he was careful. Even when Sapnap was caught off guard by the way Karl rested his thigh on top of Sapnap’s, nothing spilled onto the barely-used bedspread, and they shared the narrow space of the mattress with enough idle conversation to last a lifetime.
Sapnap still thought Karl was entirely too adorable to be real. He was all but drowning in his oversized sweater, eyes wandering around the room as he spoke. Sapnap didn’t want to stare too obviously, but he couldn’t help it; if Karl had noticed, he certainly wasn’t saying anything.