𝙇𝙀𝙈𝙊𝙉 𝘿𝙊𝙑𝙀 | karlnapity

Chapter Eleven.

None of them speak for a good minute or so, and Sapnap thinks it may have been the longest sixty seconds of his life. Everytime the hope leaves his body he insists he can wait for Karl to say literally anything for a while longer. Just a while longer, and I won't be let down again.

But Karl stays quiet. To his credit, he looks contemplative the whole while, but not once doesn't he open his mouth to speak.

Eventually, after the sound of distant cars fills the silence for too long, Quackity makes the first noise: a quiet sob. Both Karl and Sapnap stare at him as he tries to hold back his tears, but it only seems to make him want to cry more.

What starts out as a few blubbers quickly has Quackity choking for breath, and Sapnap grasps him gently to help the man stay on his feet. He doesn't know what to do in this situation exactly, Quackity rarely—if ever—cries. Sapnap wouldn't be surprised if the first time it ever happened was their reunion just over a week ago.

It's staggering how quickly Quackity crumples under Sapnap's touch. The two slowly sink to the polished, wooden flooring as loud, ugly sobs fill the quiet air. Sapnap doesn't dare look over at Karl, but from his tense body language and lack of talking he assumes that he is just as perplexed as Sapnap is.

The crying goes on for a while. And with every new noise Sapnap can feel his own heart crack even more. They're loud, harrowing sobs, racking through the entirety of Quackity's figure. Sapnap selfishly hopes this is over soon, any more grief and he fears his heart may break completely in two.

He understands the pain though. Walking to that front door the idea of Karl hadn't even crossed his mind. It's hard to think that less than ten minutes ago he was sharing a home-cooked meal with the same man he's holding through tears now; less than ten hours ago he held him in his arms as they both fell into a blissful sleep; less than ten weeks ago he had been curled into a ball in his bed in Kinoko, probably letting the loneliness consume him. It's horrendously overwhelming, and Sapnap has a repulsive urge to burst into tears too.

Quackity mutters something through the hiccups, then instantly buries his head in Sapnap's neck. It's a weird moment of deja vu.

"What? What was that, dove?"

But Quackity only shakes his head, burying himself further into Sapnap's chest and prompting the youngest to wrap his arms around him back. Sapnap can feel the outline of Quackity's bound wings through his shirt, and he softly strokes his hand along the feathers. It's comforting for both of them, he hopes, despite how he can't quite feel the softness of the feathers through the fabric.

Quackity's wings have always been a large part of his beauty. And while Sapnap has no doubt that without them he wouldn't be any less attractive, the golden feathers help bring a new sense of.. eye-catching to the table. When he had found out Quackity binds them to his back while working in Las Nevadas, he had certainly been disappointed.

However, through his complaining Quackity had brought up truthful points as to how the limbs brought up painful memories, and how they were his wings to do as he pleased anyway. (Though it had hurt of course, to think that the memory of Sapnap and Karl preening him was deemed as a "bad memory" in Quackity's mind, but Sapnap couldn't exactly fault him for it).

Now though, he hopes that his caressing is at least a little bit soothing. He assumes (hopes), with how Quackity relaxes slightly in his hold, it is.

"I called you an asshole."

The duck-hybrid has clearly called down enough to talk clearly, though Sapnap has to admit to being surprised and offended that those are his first words.

"What?"

Quackity sighs, finally raising his head. His dark eyes are bloodshot and tinted red, and his cheeks are ruby-red flushed. "Asshole," he murmurs, "I love you too much."

Oh.

oh.

Sapnap softens almost completely, and his limbs feel like jelly all of a sudden. In a brief moment of happiness, he almost forgets about his second fiance standing over them, and can just focus on the beautiful man in front of him.

Quackity shakes his head and repeats, "too much."

He pulls out of Sapnap's grasp, sniffling, and—with the help of the table next to them—makes his way back onto his feet.

Sapnap follows, albeit slowly, confused as to what is going through Quackity's mind. He wonders if this is going to hurt.

Quackity faces Karl, staring him dead in the eyes, and for the first time in a good few minutes Sapnap looks at Karl's face. From the look of the few droplets on his cheek, Quackity wasn't the only one crying. Karl continues to stay silent as tears roll down his face though. He looks almost accepting, like he's come to the conclusion he isn't going to come out of this with an "and they all lived happily ever after".

Quackity says, "I love you."

Karl finally (finally) makes a noise: a very quiet cross between a sob and a whimper. "I love you." He repeats the sentiment.

Quackity's expression is completely blank, but at Karl's words he clenches his jaw. "Okay." He looks between the two of them. "Both of you, get out of my house. I don't want to have to call security."

Then he turns, and strides out with that business man walk of his that Sapnap had always made fun of while wordlessly worshiping, and through the door to his office. The lock clicks behind him.

Oh.

oh.

Sapnap can hear it when his heart cracks in two.

980 words.