𝘽𝙀𝙀 𝙃𝙐𝙈𝙈𝙄𝙉𝙂𝘽𝙄𝙍𝘿 | quacknap

Day two.

Sapnap is not very good at cooking.

He had to learn at some point, of course, and he has fond memories of Dream haphazardly trying to teach him in the community house kitchen—that has been blown up now, multiple times—but it isn't like the blonde has been available recently to light up Kinoko kitchen with his infectious laughter.

Bad had tried to help him for a bit, and then Karl and Quackity, but Sapnap had never had as much enthusiasm for it as he had with his best friend. Standing over a stove sparked affectionate memories; and they were always the worst kind.

He had to get over it at some point though. He had to suck up the flashbacks and the wheezy giggles he could faintly hear whenever someone lit up a furnace; and he finally attempted it again. It was hard, he wasn't naturally good at it like any of his former teachers were, but when he found himself having to eat alone around a three-seater table, he didn't have much choice in the matter.

He's been starving for months, both literally and figuratively. He's had to force himself into the kitchen for a while with no one left to cook for him. Bad's doing God knows what nowadays; George is never awake, not that he was ever too good of a cook anyway; Dream's in jail; Karl is usually fucked off to whatever fairytale he's chasing after that day; and Quackity... Quackity was the scary option.

And now he's conquered that fear—and is, don't get him wrong, glad he did—but yet he's still the one in the kitchen. There must be a metaphor there somewhere.

He had left Quackity sleeping about two hours or so ago. The man had been exhausted, clearly, and was completely passed out. Sapnap had noticed the bags under his eyes and the way the man slumped so easily into him last night (when the Quackity he knew would definitely have put up a fight), so knowing that the other is getting the sleep he needs is helping Sapnap's mindset that little bit more.

Quackity has always been a wild card, and Sapnap has always been more than happy to go along with whatever play he decides on. But this is treading water with sharks moments away from his feet.

He can't say he minds it too much, it's better than drowning (or relentlessly staring into the distance and waiting for a boat that will never come), but he also can't help but selfishly hope that there were no sharks nor water at all. Hope that they were all on dry land together.

Which is why he had come in the first place, and why he is now in Quackity's—his Quackity, his delicate duck that glowed in sunlight and made others bow to his ray's—kitchen cooking pancakes.

He had awoken early with the expectation of having a feast on the table before his love got up, but after having a glance at the very limited ingredients available, he reluctantly settled on just making pancakes.

Quackity had always had them with lemon and sugar, claiming Sapnap's syrup and bananas were way too sugary and Karl's chocolate and strawberries were even worse. He's the sour to our sweet, Karl had joked in retaliation, our perfect match. To which Quackity rolled his eyes so hard that his cheeks turned flushed.

Sapnap does not have access to any lemons, or lemon juice, aside from the scent still clinging to his skin from the bath bomb. So he settles on bacon, which the other has never opposed to. Quackity isn't the most carnivorous of people, due to his hybrid tendencies (he even started calling himself a vegetarian after being served a roast chicken during a meal with Sapnap's parents, after which he used Bad's guilt for free shit), but he let himself indulge occasionally. Like when Karl made sausage and mash, topped with his mother's honoured gravy recipe that neither he nor Sapnap could resist.

This time Sapnap is sure he won't mind, because he knows for a fact that Quackity will not be focusing on the meal and more on the fact that his fiance had slept in his home last night, and is still here.

(Though he's decided to put that thought off for now, it's better to face a situation head-on than dwell on it too long. Instead, he thinks of golden wings and syrupy bacon, and how Karl's mother is probably still ignorantly smiling at the thought of her son serving her famous gravy to his soon-to-be-husbands.)

So he cooks and he flips, glad for the expensive tools and cringing whenever a speck of batter goes anywhere on the marble countertops. Sapnap doesn't enjoy himself, but the time flies nonetheless, and he soon finds himself running out of pancake batter, just in time for a toilet to flush from the ensuite.

Quackity's awake.

805 words.

start of day two! sapnap pov :)

sorry for not updating this for ages, promise day 2 updates will be more frequent!

leave comments with feedback or things you would like to see in this fic!!