𝙇𝙀𝙈𝙊𝙉 𝘿𝙊𝙑𝙀 | karlnapity

Chapter Five

Karl blanches, "excuse me?"

"I said.. Kiss me," Quackity's lookalike smiles, "and I'll tell y' whatever you want to know."

"Even your name?"

"Even my name."

Karl shakes his head. "No.. I'm not, I can't.."

The Quackity-lookalike shrugs, "okay, then I'm not telling you anything."

Karl pauses, blinking rapidly before taking a deep breath. "But I.." he thinks of Sapnap, and something else he can't quite put his finger on. "I can't.." he thinks of his library filled with scribbled paper and spilled ink. "I'm not.." he thinks of the inbetween.

He cringes inwardly as a question finally comes to mind, "fine."

Quackity-lookalike grins, then notices someone behind Karl. "Great! Just one sec."

Karl scowls at being dismissed so quickly, before the man Quackity-lookalike is gesturing over comes into view, and he pauses. He looks just like none other than Wilbur Soot, but...

In a leotard.

That's an image forever grained into Karl's memory, thank Prime for forgetfulness. Though, from what he knows of Wilbur, he can't say he's surprised one of his great-great grandchildren ended up looking like... that.

"The actual hooker is here!" Quackity-lookalike cheers, Karl chokes.

The Wilbur-lookalike smirks, barely sparing a look to Karl before he's wandering toward them suggestively. "You ready for a good time?" he asks the ravenette.

"Always, just one sec." The Quackity-lookalike smiles lustfully at him, Karl shivers.

He turns to him and looks at Karl expectantly, until he realises he's waiting for the kiss. He takes an awkward step forward, before planting a soft kiss on the man's cheek.

The Wilbur-lookalike snorts.

The Quackity-lookalike scowls.

"Wrong."

Karl takes a step back, "what do you mean wrong? I kissed you."

"Wrong! Do it again for at least five seconds, on. the. lips."

Karl gives him a look, crossing stubborn arms across his chest. "No way. I already kissed you!"

"Bullshit." he scowls.

"Pussy." Wilbur murmurs gleefully, they both ignore him.

"Kiss me again, at least five seconds on the lips, then I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

Karl goes to say no again, before something in him realises it would be futile. He debates again for another second, before huffing and taking one more step forward.

"Five seconds only." he says firmly, and the Quackity-lookalike nods with an emerging smile, a contrast to his former scowl. "And I'm not kissing you again after, promise. I don't care if I 'do it wrong' in some way. I won't."

"Yes sir." he licks his lips.

Karl hesitates before some part of him says 'YOLO' and he's leaning in. (Karl can't remember the last time he thought YOLO.)

The other's lips taste of alcohol, a sensation Karl is not enjoying as much as he would if it were Sapnap's lips, and they move quickly and expertly. Karl only realises he's enjoying himself 3.45 seconds in however, and it's with this realisation that he loses count.

But here's a thing he hadn't expected: Karl does not care.

Because despite the bitter taste of cheap alcohol, the way Karl's throat is still sore from the horrid air, and the eyes of Wilbur that he is still slightly aware of: he is enjoying himself.

Correction, Karl is so incredibly happy. Fact.

He hates this, he thinks, and then he leans in for more. This is good, this is the missing piece. There's still something off, something he can't quite place, but it feels like this entire time he's been staring at a 750-piece puzzle when the box said 1000. And finally, finally, he's seeing the entire picture.

And it's overwhelmingly picturesque. This is what he's needed: all those night lying in bed with Sapnap as he felt cold, despite the blaze-born being a 'human furnace'; the feeling of loneliness whenever he was washing the dishes, a random one–but it comes to mind; staring at the bottle of painkillers in the bathroom cabinet in confusion, knowing that Sapnap insists medicine is for pussies ("why would i take pills when i can just drink a healing potion?") and Karl can't take tablets.

There's a chuckle against his lips, and then he feels warm hands on his chest trying to push him away. No, Karl is thinking—maybe saying—No, no, no. He needs more. There's a door in his mind and he's only just gotten the key; he can't let it slip out of his grasp again.

Karl is finally letting himself try to remember.

For ages he's been sitting on the floor of the escape room, not picking one of the three doors, knowing he can't fail if he doesn't try. But Karl wants to win, he realizes that now, he's ready to throw himself off the deep end, ready to turn the key in the lock, ready to lose with the hope of winning. He just needs more time.

It feels like an internal battle of tug and war. Like one side of his mind is building a wall while on the other he's tearing one down. He wants to fight, to try and remember, to drown himself in this feeling until it finally comes to mean something.

And then he's shoved away from the kiss. And the door is opened.

858 words.