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Karl takes less than a second to mentally frame the image before him, and it stays there, forever engraved in his head as, probably, one of the worst ideas he’s ever had in his life. Doubt shuffles its way into his stomach, and it travels up to his head until everything he wonders is whether this was the right decision.
Days ago, the idea—the lie—had come to him with a graze of hope and freedom. The moment he’d finally fallen right into a fair agreement with Sapnap had been one he deemed genius and perfect. The countless, spontaneous blind dates his friends set him up to attend had been tiring enough for him to stumble into an abyss of erratic ideas and nonsensical things. At least now he finally has a not so pathetic reason to turn them down.
And with the year coming to an end, it’s only fair for shortly premeditated decisions to bloom.
“Your roommate?” He hears Dream’s whisper beside him. A side glance gives him enough time to see his friend’s surprised state, making his stomach flip slightly once again.
“Hey,” Karl greets Sapnap, approaching the door without drafting a clear plan in his mind. “You’re late.”
Sapnap stares back at him, denoting being just as lost as he is. Some seconds linger in the air before his arms are uncomfortably trapping Karl in a weak hug.
“Sorry about that,” he murmurs closely, making Karl question whether he’s apologising for being late or for hugging him so promptly. “I brought you this, though.”
“Flowers,” George chips in after he closes the door. “Why did you bring flowers?”
Unease nips at his stomach, and his eyes meet Sapnap’s in a shared, inner frenzy. Unprepared pops in his mind a couple of thousand times. Unplanned and disorganised. Bad ideas.
“Uhm…” Sapnap attempts to gather an explanation.
Karl’s lips part, his heart ticking, breath stuck on his chest while he panics. What was Sapnap’s last name, again? The most he knows about this guy is that he shares his living space. That he gets mad whenever Karl leaves the lights on, or that he complains about any other array of peeves; Karl only promised he would stop being a nuisance in exchange for helping with the fake dating extravaganza he’d come up with.
“Just because,” Sapnap says.
Yeah. Unprepared is probably a good word. When his roommate had finally agreed, the only thing Karl thought about was reminding him not to be late to this party, thanking him for about five times, and leaving through the door in ecstatic reverie.
“George,” Dream says, wrapping an arm around the boy, giving him a side hug. Karl considers the possibility of just playing mimicry with those two, but his friends are not exactly the type to have the most common of relationships either. Perhaps the world is just full of uncertainty at this point. “Instead of ruining the moment, why don’t you get me flowers next time we go out?”
“No.” George shakes his head, scrunching his brows accusingly. “You should get me flowers, better—”
As the other two continue bickering, Karl’s gaze settles back on his roommate, and the sound of the coat getting hung by the door. Sapnap greets him again, with a smile, as if this ordeal isn’t about faking being together and as if, days ago, they weren’t just two people not too keen on each other.
“Hey,” he says. “I thought you wouldn’t come. I was getting nervous.”
“A deal is a deal,” Sapnap replies. “Don’t forget your part, though.”
Feeling a swift pat on his shoulder, Karl stays hopeful that this will all work out, somehow.
⟐
Other than sipping on fizzy soft drinks, staring at the lit chimney and people chatting with each other, the night has been slow and quiet. The way things are playing—so easygoing and inconspicuous—makes Karl tap the ground with his foot every growing second. Every silent moment that settles around him makes his eyes stay stuck intensely on the wall clock. And it’s all so slow, quiet.
When Sapnap excuses himself to use the bathroom, George and Dream waste less than a second to turn towards him, eyes sharp and scrutinising in a way that makes Karl feel like perhaps the night hasn’t been as easygoing as he thought.
“What are you doing?” Karl asks, leaning back on the couch until his tense back is resting on a soft linen cushion.
“What are you doing?” Dream copies, the same weight of hesitance hanging from his words.
“Nothing. I’m—spending a… christmassy evening with my friends.” He shrugs his shoulders, shielding himself by sipping his drink.
“And Sapnap,” George adds, voice tilting with curiosity in a way that makes Karl’s heart pick up slightly.
He blinks. “Yeah, yeah. And him.”
“How long have you been dating?”
“Uhm. Not long.” Karl gulps, cursing his slow thinking while he does quick calculations in his head. “This is new, okay? All-new,” he says, before rolling his eyes, “And now I know you’re judging me silently.”
“What? No,” Dream answers at the same time as George, “Look, you’ve barely stared at him all night, it's kinda weird.”
“Hey,” Karl defends himself. Once again, he should’ve planned things better without believing that everything would fall in line naturally. “It’s not my fault that you two are on each other every second. Not everyone needs to be all gushy and disgusting.”
“We are not gushy—”
“You kinda are.” He makes a face. “It’s just—it’s nothing too serious, okay? We’re getting used to all this…” lying, “dating thing in front of others, you know?”
“Maybe you just need a stronger drink,” George suggests, outstretching his arm to offer his glass. “Here.”
“George, no.” Dream laughs softly, taking the drink and leaving it abandoned on the coffee table. He turns to Karl. “Maybe you should just talk to him? Be on the same page about how you feel about this.”
“You heard him. Go.” George’s hand pushes him forward, and before he’s farther into his own nervously taken steps, Karl hears him say, “We’ll take care of the rest!”
⟐
“Relationship problems?”
“We have them, apparently,” Karl explains, standing near the poorly decorated Christmas tree. Something crunches under the incessant tap of his feet; so far, more than a couple of spheres have fallen to the ground, coating the floor with risky glass pieces and shiny dust.
He found Sapnap making small talk with some people and Karl was mildly glad he didn’t have to resort to any display of affection before Sapnap got the gist and followed him to this spot.
“Sorry. Probably not the best leaving you behind.” After tilting his head back to drink the rest of the glass content, he stays pensive for a second, eyebrows scrunched slightly. “Do you think we have to put up a show?”
“What?”
“Wait.” Sapnap’s mouth quirks up. “I have an idea,” he says, offering his hand. “Take it.”
“Why?” Karl says, though still clutching Sapnap’s hand under the content impression that at least one of them has a plan. Still, he’s not too enthusiastic about being left in the dark. “Sapnap, what are you doing?”
“Where are your friends?” Sapnap ignores him, gaze travelling around the area while his fingers slowly interlock with Karl’s.
“Uhm.” He clears his throat. “The kitchen, probably.”
With the weight of Sapnap’s hand on his, Karl follows him. They take short steps through the crowd, feeling the nudging elbows and listening to the now and then conversation topics that they most probably aren’t meant to listen to. Karl holds his giggles as he walks, side eyeing the chimney again. He hopes nothing too bad will happen, considering the lit fire is surrounded by stoned and drunk college students.
“God, this is crazy,” Sapnap shouts out, barely audible underneath the cheesy Christmas music and drunken hollers. When Karl stays slightly behind, Sapnap tightens the hold of their hands. “Out of all these people, couldn’t you ask one of them to date you?”
Karl waits until they’re out of the crowd before taking a breath. “I thought dating a roommate would be more believable than, I don’t know, a total stranger—”
“Aren’t I a total stranger, technically?” Sapnap stops walking, making Karl’s chest collide with his back.
“Sorry,” he says, awkwardly taking a couple of steps away. “You’re, technically, not.”
“Okay.” Sapnap hums knowingly, attention sidetracked elsewhere. “Oh, this is it,” he says, looking back at Karl with a small smile.
“Wait—what?”
A warm yellow light illuminates Sapnap’s expression before it fades away into a bright red. The Christmas lights twinkle in short seconds before, without warning, Sapnap takes his free hand behind Karl’s neck. He leans close enough and then, his lips are on his. Karl feels eyelashes blink close on his skin once, and a second later Sapnap is standing in front of him as if nothing happened.
The light flashes yellow again; a whole sequence of colours has happened rapidly. “You just—” Karl blinks repeatedly, feeling blood heating up his skin. “Did you just kiss me?”
Sapnap’s eyes almost twinkle as they glance up to the ceiling. “Surprised I did it without throwing up, if I’m honest.”
Karl follows his line of vision. Up in the kitchen door frame, he sees a bunch of green leaves fixed together with tape. “Ah,” he says, quickly looking around and finding his friends smiling at him from afar. His eyes narrow slightly at Sapnap’s accomplished smile. “I… hate you.”
“You hate me.” Sapnap raises his eyebrows. “Why are you still holding my hand, then?”
A scoff falls from Karl’s lips, dropping Sapnap’s hand a bit too quickly. The smell of cheap beer and sweaty people remind him of where they are, making him take his hand up close to Sapnap’s face. His hair is soft, softer than he’d possibly imagined it being, an all-too nice mix between dark and light brown that he’d never taken the time to admire before.
He glances to the side, making sure his friends are still snooping on him. “Just for show,” he says, dropping his hand.
Sapnap laughs softly, taking a step back. His eyes stay on the floor as he says, “Of course.”
The phone buzzes in Karl’s pocket, a message from George settled on the lock screen. Woaaa, it worked.
He fights back a smile while he types: is that a mistletoe made with spinach (???what), really?
In an instant, he receives: yeah, dream’s idea. sorry. we had to improvise.
⟐
As of lately, tonight feels oddly special. Under the pretence of dating his roommate and getting to spend the last week of the year closer to him than anyone else, Karl finds himself enjoying the excursion just as much as he initially doubted it.
The night is chilly, like the usual December ones. Even if there were barely any clouds in the late afternoon, a soft rain had begun to drip. They’d managed to escape by staying at the café hours ago.
Now, as they walk home, the rain settles on the ground and the dew reflects the streetlights like a thousand speckles engraved on the pavement. Asphalt crunches beneath his shoes, the sound swifting through the silence, as a smile lies faintly on his face.
“Thanks for helping me with this,” Karl says, kicking a rock that crosses his path. “Don’t think I’ve thanked you enough.”
“It’s okay. Your friends are cool.” Sapnap walks slightly behind. It was only a little while ago when they’d both walked out, holding hands, bidding goodbye to Dream and George.
The memory stirs comfort in him, growing his smile a little more; getting used to the feeling of having someone to share his side of the booth and walk home with is perhaps too good. Karl grimaces, his step faltering for a second. Too good to be true.
“Yeah,” Karl whispers his response, the sudden melancholy seeping into him. “It’s funny because they are the reason why this”—he gestures between them—”even happened.”
“…Hey.”
Karl looks back, startled. “What?”
“Stay there, don’t move,” Sapnap says, taking his phone out in a short second.
“What are you doing now?”
“Trust me.” With the small phone camera pointing towards him, he peeks from the side. “Smile, give me a thumbs up, or something.”
“You’re taking a photo.”
“Is it really a relationship if I don’t have you on my social media?”
“True.” Karl laughs. “…okay.”
Awkwardly, with the notion of having a camera about to snap an everlasting frame of this moment, he curves the corners of his lips and lifts a hand with a peace sign.
Sapnap stays quiet, and Karl wonders if he’s thinking of what this picture, this moment, will mean someday as much as he does. If his mind races to look for quick answers, to find the resolution from all of this. If he’s thinking about how the image will be damaged by a fake breakup thanks to their pretended relationship. If he knows that perhaps the memory won’t be as sweet in the future as it is today.
Karl’s grin falters a little, when Sapnap says, “One more.”
“Wow.” Another rock gets kicked out of his path, echoing in the silence around them. “You’re… committed.”
“Oh, I am,” Sapnap murmurs, the sound of the camera snapping clear in the air.
⟐
The nail polish only looks a tiny bit tacky and the corners only a bit smudged when Karl finishes painting Sapnap’s hand. On the quiet, relaxed last Saturday of the year, they settle with staying home and basking in each other’s company.
“Things have worked well, I think,” Karl mumbles distractedly, painting one last coat on Sapnap’s pinky, even if it’s not really needed. He snorts, after a second. “As good as they can be, of course.”
Sapnap lifts his hand, admiring the work of black nail polish and the unclean finishes around his nails. “‘As good as they can be’?”
“Yeah. You can’t have much when it comes to your acting skills.” The nail polish cap twists until it’s closed, and he tilts it to make sure the content doesn’t pour. “And the way you flirt is shameful.”
“Oh, yeah?” Sapnap asks, his grin growing more. “The way you kiss is shameful, too.”
“Okay, are you gonna do something about it?” Karl jokes, shoving Sapnap in a friendly way.
“The nails, dude.”
“Sorry.”
They both go silent for a moment until Sapnap clears his throat.
“You know how… earlier this week, when we went to that café,” he begins, leaning back onto the couch, near Karl’s chest, “and we decided to hold hands before your friends even arrived? So we wouldn’t feel as awkward.”
Karl’s hand ends up in Sapnap’s hair. His fingers thread through it, slowly, just like that. Like it’s been more than a few days since they’ve been this close. Like it’s all-natural. Karl likes that about Sapnap, how he accepts the proximity and touch with such ease.
“Uh-huh, what about it?”
“I think it helped.” Sapnap closes his eyes, absently leaning into Karl’s touch. “Felt more… natural when I had to hold your hand in front of them.”
“Okay?”
“Are you not following?”
He blinks, his hand stopping.
Then, “Oh, oh.” He barely catches the corner of his mouth from curving further after his realisation. “You want to kiss me. Is that it?
Sapnap’s eyes snap open, the green speckles meeting Karl’s amused stare. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” he says, voice weak. “I’m just… keeping the end of my deal.”
And just like the outrageous idea of asking him about fake dating, he doesn’t let himself ponder the decision. “Alright,” he agrees, sitting up straighter. “Hope you do realise this is a hundred times more awkward than kissing in front of my friends.”
“Yeah.” Sapnap sits up too, shrugging his shoulders. “So, if we can get through this then nothing can stop our little lie.”
“That’s fair.” In a familiar motion, Karl slowly reaches his hands behind Sapnap’s neck. And with a whisper, he asks, “So, what about the way I kiss is shameful?”
“Hm?” Sapnap tilts his head to the side, ignoring the question. His breath tickles close to his mouth.
“Sapnap—”
He kisses him. Slowly, at first. Temperate and delicate enough for Karl to focus on everything and nothing at the same time. The atmosphere that brushes his skin is different than the one they have when eyes are watching them.
The couch beneath them feels different, softer, like it’s special now that they’re sharing this moment here, like it’s the only one that knows what has happened and what will happen.
He traces his thumb on Sapnap’s jawline, taking a second to breathe in, so deeply that he can feel his chest and his heart rising. And then he’s kissing him again; with closed eyes, he welcomes the darkness, the motion of new discoveries, his own heartbeat consuming itself with every passing second.
And what has he found out, after this? Nothing that he didn’t already subconsciously think before.
Oh, shit.
⟐
The last day of the year carries itself with dwindling sunlight and faint rain. As if it were the year's last wish, the sky isn’t entirely grey, and the wind seems to be kind to any bypassers.
Karl sits on his mattress, staring at the raindrops running on the glass of his window. As much as he tries not to, his mind is set to contemplate its new discovery.
And all he does is concentrate enough until he’s memorised every single detail about Sapnap. About how it felt like to think about him, before. How it will feel in the future, once he’s standing in front of his friends, telling them about the breakup. How it feels now, or yesterday; every lingering touch, the soft mumbles falling from his lips, the way his eyes set on him. From the first time he held his hand, to the moment he realised his heart beat a certain way only when he got to see his smile, his lips, his radiance.
Karl curses under his breath, wanting to scream into the pillow.
Steps approach the door before Sapnap is pushing it open. “Hey, are you—” He stops, hands halfway through putting on a jacket. “...ready?”
And in a split-second decision, the ones familiar to him, he blurts, “I think I’ll pass.”
“What?” Sapnap visibly slumps at his answer. “It’s New Year’s Eve, what do you mean?”
“I'm not feeling well,” he says, wishing his brain could come up with a more valid, truer excuse.
“Are you sick?” His friend questions, stepping closer with concern. “Do you want me to stay with you—”
“No,” Karl calls from the bed, holding up his palm stopping Sapnap from his tracks. He lets out a heavy sigh. “I’m just tired. I can’t do this today.” Not wanting to see any expression in response, he turns his back to Sapnap, body twisting in the bed until he’s back to staring at the window. “We can break up in a couple of days if you want.”
“Karl.” Sapnap's voice wavers with confusion. “Did I do something wrong?”
He shuts his eyes tightly in response. “I’m just tired, that’s all,” he repeats. You did everything right, it seems. “Please go to the party, have fun.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah.” Reluctantly, he begins to wonder how different things would be if he decided to suck it up and go with Sapnap, if he told him he was sick, or asked him to stay. He turns his head to stare at him again. “I don’t really celebrate New Years anyway.”
“What? You do,” Sapnap says, still standing by the door. “Last year, you arrived around four in the morning, wearing that stupid little NYE’s dollar store hat. Drunk as fuck. You were so loud, and a walking disaster.” He pauses, and Karl doesn’t miss the small smile that appears on his face. “So annoying, as usual.”
He remembers it, too. He remembers being there and not there, existing with his drunken stupor, so happy about the new year to even care about how much of a nuisance he was being to his roommate. If anything has changed in a year, it’s just how much he perceives him; how before Sapnap was just an afterthought, and now he seems to overwhelm Karl’s mind.
The present situation kindles itself as an annoying burn in the back of Karl’s head. He hates this, or rather, where it’s all headed—he’d have to come up with a friendly-type breakup if he wanted to continue spending time with Sapnap the way he’s grown so fond of. Otherwise, spiraling into a new lie as to why he’s still good friends with his ex might be too complicated. More complicated than things already are, that is.
Karl sighs. “Well, a year ago I wasn’t pretending to date someone.” He laughs weakly, almost devoid of amusement. “It’s a lot of work.”
And with nothing much else to say, Sapnap leaves Karl be.
⟐
“Thirty minutes left,” George announces, putting his phone back in his pocket before leaning back into Dream’s hug. “Can you believe it? I feel like I did nothing all year.”
“That’s because you didn’t,” Dream says, “you lazy fuck.” His smile reaches his eyes as he makes a ridiculous show of smooching George’s cheek.
Although George squirms at first, he starts laughing loudly before turning his body and hugging him back. “You’re an idiot.”
Sapnap stares at the exchange trying to escape his thoughts. But it happens; his mind takes him to last night, and Karl’s fingers on his hair, the gentle touch of his hand as it guided the soft movement of their lips. The awkward laughter, the late-night walks. His smile under Christmas lights.
A tired breath interlocks tightly at his chest. The environment with lively music and cheerful air do little to resonate with his current emotion. Sapnap looks down at his phone, and the screen greets him a fourth time in the last hour as he stares at the message he’d sent Karl in a random spur of honesty.
I’ve gotten so used to being around you that
I kinda miss you, just a little
If the last day of the year is an incentive for self-reflection, Sapnap admits that perhaps getting too enthusiastic about fake-dating his roommate has got to be his most reckless action in the whole year.
And, of course, liking him a bit too much, too.
The message marked as seen places an uncomfortable feeling in his chest. With accumulated exhaustion and confusion, he draws in a deep breath and lets it go.
“I think he’s gonna break up with me,” he blurts out, making Dream drop his arms and George stare at him with a shocked face.
“What?”
“I think I… I need to tell him.” He pauses a second, shaking his head. “I need to talk to him.”
“What—”
Sapnap blinks. A thought swamps him, promising nothing but recklessness and bad ideas. Still, he accepts it. “You said there're thirty minutes left?”
George looks down at his phone, scrunching his face slightly in confusion. “Twenty-seven now, yeah.”
And then he’s gone. A quick goodbye and happy new year are thrown into the air. His hand is on the door handle, and moments after, the December air kisses his face with frozen resolution.
The smell is outrageously good, like it’s fresh and clean and hopeful. Like the ticking clock he envisions in his head is giving him some kind of special opportunity that’s as rare and pure as the feeling that sets in his chest.
A kind of ecstatic trance overtakes him, his mind nothing but his actions, the quickened steps, and his warm breath billowing out from his curved lips. As he races through the same road he’s taken with Karl before, he realises one thing: He’s happy. As he distinguishes the neighbourhood leading down to their apartment, he realises something more: He’s ready.
For what exactly, he’s not entirely sure, but he feels that way.
And yet his heart stops when he reaches their apartment door. When the sweat on his back starts to trudge his skin, and he feels hot and dizzy and like this must be the worst idea he’s had all year. But there are still minutes left, the opportunity still ticks with the clock, and it’s all okay.
He finds Karl sleeping on their couch, with the TV and lights on. Turning them off quietly, he leaves one single light illuminating the hallway, just so he can see where he’s going, and what he’s doing. In one sense, at least, because even with the clear image before him, he has no clue of what’s going on.
With every approaching step, the inclination to leave Karl and the pitiful mess of soda cans and fried snacks is strong, but he already ran here, his hands are already tingling, and he’s ready.
He tries to wake him up by shaking his shoulder, at first gently, with a shy hand resting on top of Karl’s burgundy sweater. When nothing happens, he pushes a little harder. Karl snaps his eyes open, and he takes a moment to take in his surroundings.
“Hey?”
Although Sapnap is almost sure Karl can’t see his face clearly, he flashes a smile. “Hi.”
“Is the party over?” Karl asks, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”
“No, I left early.”
“Why?”
“I missed you,” Sapnap responds. “It’s not as fun without you.”
The words leave his mouth fizzy, like he’s just taken a step into something he’s suddenly so unsure about, so scared about, but it still leaves him wanting more of the sensation.
“Come on.” He swallows, stretching a hand towards him. “You need to rest properly, or else you’re gonna be all bitchy tomorrow morning.”
Karl accepts it, the warmth of his skin diminishing when it meets Sapnap’s cold one. “What time is it?” he asks again.
“I dunno. It’s still December, I think.”
“Wait. Why are you…?” Karl wrinkles his brow.
“What?”
“You look sweaty.” His hand ends up in Sapnap’s forehead. “And you are. Ew.”
“Sorry, I ran all the way here.”
Karl stares at him in surprise. “Why?”
“Just to—” He stops, his mouth freezing with uncertainty. “To see you, I guess. I was bored. Uhm, also, you left the lights on, again.”
“Oh.” Karl lets go of their hands. His eyes check the hallway, the only light that’s on. “I’m sorry, I fell asleep.”
“Listen.” Sapnap’s takes a deep breath. “I’m here to tell you something, actually.”
Karl is back to facing him, and it takes an instant for Sapnap to recognize his expression—with all its perplexed glory, Karl’s soft look is a replica of the one he had before they kissed. Curious, surprised.
“Okay.” Karl’s laugh is subdued, tilting on nervousness, before he says, “You’re already telling me something.”
“It’s—” Sapnap takes a breath, so deep that his stomach rises. For a second, he thinks he could throw up right here, right now. “I know you weren’t… fond of it, but sometimes I’m glad your friends kept setting you up on dates to the point where you asked me to date you temporarily, and uh, in a fake way,” he begins, without really knowing where he’s going. “And I don’t think I’ll ever forget these past weeks, getting to know you, and going through this thing together, even if it’s become the most frustrating thing for me.”
“Frustrating?” Karl asks quickly, dread plastered in his eyes. “Sapnap—”
“Confusing,” he corrects. “Everything about this turned out to be confusing. Including you. And… yeah.” And I like you, that much is true, he wants to shout. To see a verdict reflected on Karl’s expression, illuminated by the dim light that reaches them.
Then, Karl has a ridiculously wide grin on his face, and he lets the words sit in the silence for a while. Maybe seconds, but Sapnap still feels the ruckus happening within him—his heart knocks on his chest stronger than it did when he was running here, as if it got stuck in a gap between his ribs, and he feels helpless.
“What?” he says, voice wobbly like it only used to be back when he was in high school. Karl erupts in laughter because of it. “What’s so funny?”
“Sapnap, I’m so tired I feel like this might all be a dream.”
Same, he wants to answer, but he thinks there hasn’t been a time in his life before in which he felt more aware and alert. “I don’t think it is.”
“Okay, then.” Karl inhales, his eyes on an abandoned soda can on the table. “Just so you know, the way you flirt is still shameful.”
“God,” Sapnap says under his breath, cut short by his inner panic. “God,” he says again, and his mind repeats the word too many times. His heart flutters, and turns, and he wishes he could ask the pulse in his chest whether this is going where he thinks it is.
So then, without caring whether the year is still waiting for him, whether the clock is still handing the opportunity, he leans in slightly. “And—and are you going to… do something about it?”
After an instant, Karl hums, lips tilting up slightly. He’s reacting like he knew Sapnap would say that, like he has the answers, like he just knows, much to Sapnap’s surprise. Without a warning, Karl asks, “Would falling in love with me be so terrible?”
Sapnap lets himself get lost in this sensation. In the utter surprise. The forgotten tracking of time. The way his lungs allow a push and pull of air so fast it leaves him dizzy. In the calm, the fervency of the moment as his tension dissolves into delight, and he thanks the adrenaline from his run for letting him make such an irrevocably erratic decision.
“To be honest, it probably would,” he says, joking.
“Oh, really?” Karl smiles. Sapnap thinks this is the moment he begins to fall in love with him.
“Not really.” He shakes his head. And then, slowly, his fingertips touch the end of Karl’s hair, until his hand is sliding around the back of his neck.
Weirdly enough, unprepared is what pops in his mind a couple of thousand times when he finally kisses him. Because he’d been expecting, waiting to be able to do this since the moment their last kiss ended, but that’s still not enough to prepare him for whatever this is. There’s no pretence, no excuse, no truth other than the one they finally accept as the kiss deepens.
Sapnap feels a smile against his lips, and it takes everything for him to suppress his own grin. With hands threading through hair, he decides there’s no real word to describe the feeling. That the collection of emotions is too good to enclose. Instead, he leans in closer, and feels him closer. Until he’s back to flowers, awkward hand-holding, and first kisses under fake mistletoes. Coffee drinks on a rainy day, a picture with awkward smiles and dim streetlights. The silence, fingers tangled in hair while sharing a new kiss, a feeling, a new experience.
Until he’s right here. And it feels like a new opportunity, a new year.