Chapter Text
Trophy’s blood was boiling with anger as he packed his stuff into boxes. Sure, he had been complaining and begging to OJ and Paper about Tissues, but Knife was 10 times worse! He was his enemy, what were they thinking? He huffed as he picked up his stuff, trying his best to ignore tissues as he walked his bitch ass to Knife’s room.
He planted three harsh knocks against the door, tapping his foot impatiently. After a few moments, the door swung open and Knife emerged from his room. “Geez, already here? Talk about impatient.” Trophy just hissed through his teeth and pushed past Knife, working to unpack his items. Knife opened his mouth to say something, but just rolled his eyes and laid on his bed.
“Can you unpack any slower?” He said cheekily, opening one eye to watch Trophy struggle to pick up a box. He let out a snicker before approaching Trophy and grabbing the box from him. “I thought you were supposed to be a jock?” He huffed and set the box down, helping Trophy unpack.
While he did so, he got distracted by a knock on the door. Knife poked his head up and set down a lamp he was holding, walking over to the door and opening it. “Oh, hey suits. What’re you doing here?” She waved and spoke up. “Oh, OJ wanted me to tell you about another party going on! I guess he wants to celebrate the new rooms now.”
Knife let out a scoff, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. “He never stops, does he?” Suitcase let out a giggle and nodded, rubbing her silver arm. “Yeah. Anyways, I gotta go! I’ll see you there– hopefully!” Knife nodded and waved goodbye, watching her leave before shutting the door. By the time the party rolled around, Trophy was pretty much unpacked.
“You going to the party?” He questioned as he pulled a clean shirt over his head, looking at himself in the mirror as he slipped his jacket on and pulled on the bottom. “I mean, I kinda have to,” He started, rolling his eyes, “If we don’t, OJ bangs on our doors till we come, remember?”
Knife nodded in agreement and put on his necklace, snapping his fingers at Trophy. “See ya there.” And with that, he walked out.
Trophy snorted as he threw on his jersey, fluffing up his hair and putting his earrings in. He stared at himself in the mirror for a moment or three, just thinking about how he looked. After a few minutes, he shoved his head in his hands and sat on his bed. “God, I look like a girl,” He scolded himself, gripping his hair. “No matter how hard I try.”
He looked back up at himself and tore his earrings out, constantly adjusting his jersey and pants. He still looked wrong. After a few more minutes, he heard the door swing open and Knife’s grating voice speak up. “You okay?”
Trophy snorted and looked up from his hands, staring Knife down. “What do you think?” Knife jolted back at the reaction but walked over, leaning against his dresser. “Yikes, sorry for being concerned. I mean, you do this every time before parties.”
Trophy scoffed and looked back at himself in the mirror. “Whatever.” Knife stared at Trophy, sitting in the uncomfortable silence before realizing what was happening. He sat up and walked over to trophy’s bed, sitting next to Trophy. “Hey,” He spoke up, softer this time, “Talk to me.”
Trophy let out a harsh laugh, turning his attention to Knife. “Why should I?” Knife, unlike usual, didn’t snap back with something annoying. He looked into Trophy’s eyes and scooted his hand in Trophy’s direction. “Because you clearly can’t handle it on your own.”
Trophy stood up abruptly and looked down at Knife. “Let’s just go, OJ’s gonna yell at us if we’re late.” Knife just sighed and stood up with him, knowing not to pry further yet. “Fine. But we’re discussing it after.”
The two walked down the hall, close enough to brush shoulders, all the way to the party.
The party was active and loud with people chattering and playing games, almost like they had completely forgotten the point of the party. Trophy snorted and walked to the unoccupied snack table, with Knife trailing close behind.
He ladled punch into a red party cup, taking a big sip as Knife talked “Trophy, that’s spiked.” He snickered as Trophy pulled the cup away from his lips. “With what??” Knife turned and ladled some into his cup, holding it with one hand. “I think vodka? Though you never know with OJ.” He takes a sip and hums. “It’s good though.” Trophy looked into the cup at the red liquid and nodded. “You’re right about that.”
The two stood at the table for a while, watching as the party bustled with people. They ate snacks and refilled their cups about five times until Knife got woozy enough to join Suitcase on the dance floor.
Trophy nodded his head to the music and finished his 5th cup, walking to the game area to flaunt in pickle’s face after he beat him at a game (He lost but still flaunted somehow.) After playing a few games he got bored and saw Knife again.
He watched Knife as he danced with suitcase, being swung around and tripped over his feet. He looked gorgeous in the party’s lighting. His silver jewelry flashed in the light, his silvery-gray hair covering his face. Trophy goggled at Knife for about ten minutes till he started walking over, which caused him to down his whole drink immediately.
“Missing me already, Troph?” Knife snickered smugly, turning to lean against the wall in order to keep his balance. “Ugh, in your dreams.” Trophy would then sneer, setting his drink on a nearby coffee table and crossing his arms.
Knife’s face flushed pink with blush from the alcohol getting to his head, “Sure, you totally haven’t been staring at me for an hour.” He teased, waving his hand in the air and almost falling. Trophy snickered and rolled his eyes so hard it almost hurt, “Well, maybe I was staring because you look like a dying deer when you dance.”
Knife planted a hand on his chest and scoffed sarcastically. “How dare you! I dance amazingly, for your information.” He giggled drunkenly and nudged Trophy’s shoulder with his. “What, jealous cause I was dancing with Suits instead of yoouuu?”
“As if.” He scoffed.
“No, really,” He laughed to himself, sipping his spiked punch, “You were staring holes into my skull.” Trophy poked his chest, causing him to stumble against the vending machine next to them. “Maybe I was hoping you’d trip.”
The vibrations of the vending machine pulsed through his limbs, syncing with the music. “Gosh, so mean! You break my heart, Troph.” He cried dramatically, throwing a hand onto his forehead. Trophy, in response, rolled his eyes again and snickered. “Oh, shut up, you welch.”
“Welch? That’s a new one.” Trophy crossed his arms and prepared to push Knife again. “God forbid I have a vocabulary higher than a first grader.”
Knife hums in acknowledgment, pushing off the vending machine. “You talk a lot of trash for someone who’s been chasing me like a lost puppy the whole night.” The blonde man in front of him tensed and stuttered, trying to defend himself. “I was NOT following you–”
“Then what were you doing? Planning a fight?” He interrupted, staring into Trophy’s eyes. Trophy’s fingers dug into the fabric of his sleeves, fingernails stabbing through the fabric and clawing at his palm, “Oh, shut up.”
Knife leaned down towards Trophy, getting in his face. “How about you make me? Since i’m so annoying.” Trophy looked at Knife’s lips, watching as he spoke before he looked back up at his eyes. “Fine. Since that’s how you wanna play.”
He grabbed Knife by his collar and pushed him into the vending machine, a dull thud entering their ears. Knife opened his mouth to make a snarky remark, but that was when Trophy’s lips smashed into his in a flurry of anger and resentment. Their scents mingled together as their mouths moved in sync, the taste of metal and punch apparent on both of their tongues.
Knife’s hands dragged through Trophy’s golden locks, gripping his hair and pulling him in closer. Trophy instinctively put a hand on his shoulder and chest, fingernails digging into his tan skin.
Knife pressed his knee against Trophy’s groin, causing an explicit moan to echo through his throat and into his mouth. He let out a snicker against Trophy’s lips and grabbed his chin, opening his mouth and dominating the kiss while Trophy was worked up.
Trophy grabbed Knife by his shoulders and pushed off, panting with drool all along his mouth. “Let’s—“ he paused, catching his breath. “Let’s take this away from here.”