Work Text:
Sapnap just can’t stop thinking about him.
He’s tried, believe him, but he just can’t get out of his own mind.
Karl.
Beautiful, whimsical: Karl Jacobs. The prettiest man he’d ever laid eyes on. The most perfect person he’d ever met in his life.
Well, that was sort of a lie. They barely even talked, on or off campus. He basically saw Karl nowhere afterwards. The one party had been a coincidence, especially since Sapnap almost never agreed to go to them. It was the one time, the one time that Dream had convinced Sapnap to drag his ass out of his dorm.
“All you do is work, ” Dream had pointed out, Sapnap remembers. Sapnap was on his couch, and Dream had shown up, already showered and dressed for the party. “You have to loosen up. Just this one time.”
That one time turned into a series of events that Sapnap just cannot seem to rid his memory of. He wishes he were more drunk that night; he wouldn’t have to worry about all these thoughts, all these feelings that just won’t leave him alone.
He’s sitting at his desk, trying to get work done. Desperately trying to form coherent sentences into his computer, trying to get just a few words down. He’s got work to do, homework to complete. But he just can’t stop thinking about it. He’s even got laundry in the dryer. A load that’s been complete for hours, but he can’t bring himself to fold because the outfit that reminds him of that night lies within it.
He remembers it, all of it, even though he’s tried to forget. Karl’s gentle eyes gazing up under hooded eyelids, his pretty smile even when their lips were connected. It was more intoxicating than the sinful amount of shots he had taken that night: his face, his gaze, his hands. His touch. All of it was overwhelming. He had gotten so close. Stupid fucking drunk Sapnap, not remembering to ask for his number or anything remotely personal that would help him find him again.
It’s been two weeks since. And he can’t stop thinking. About what could’ve been, what he could have gotten, what he could have right now. He huffs sharply in frustration and slams his computer shut. What work was going to get done anyways?
He lets his mind drift, pushing back in his chair and letting it sway him across the room. He lets himself think about Karl, here, with him, in his sweatshirt, laying on his bed. He’d wait until Sapnap got some work done before bothering him-- he could tell Karl was sweet like that. God, he just wanted more. Needed more. He so desperately wants to know what he could have gotten away with. What could’ve happened if he didn’t throw up and leave early. He wanted to cry just thinking about it. But he remembered it vividly.
“I don’t feel so well,” Sapnap says to Karl, getting off the bed. The look in Karl’s eye was cloudy, but even intoxicated, Sapnap could see the worry. He doesn’t hear what Karl says, just feels a hand on the small of his back and a hand on his arm.
Somewhere, somehow, he ends up on the floor in front of the toilet, and he’s never felt more embarrassed. He’d just kissed the life out of Karl, and now he was throwing up. He felt like shit, literally and figuratively.
Through all this, though, was Karl, with a hand on his back and a towel in his hand.
He shuddered at the memory. He despised the feeling he remembered that was in his gut at the time, how sick he felt. He remembers almost crying, feeling nauseous and ashamed. Yet, his heart warms at the remembrance of Karl, who helped him through it. Karl had been drunk, but not as drunk as Sapnap. He wished it were the other way around, sometimes. He just wanted to take care of Karl, to have a chance to return the favor.
He wished Karl was there with him.
Suddenly, his mind wandered to more corrupt thoughts, like kissing Karl senseless. He couldn’t look at his bed for more than five seconds without imaging Karl underneath him, lips on lips and hands on skin. His head was all over the place, unhelpfully supplying him with more thoughts than he could handle.
He tries to distract himself by getting up and taking the laundry out of the dryer, but he picks up a handful of clothes, and it goes south. A ruined piece of paper falls out, probably something like a receipt, and he notices the pants he had worn that night. Yearning surges through him.
He remembers it all at once: Karl’s hand on his neck, his other on the handle of his waist, the sound of his heavy breath, loud against Sapnap’s ear. He had been pressing hard kisses into the soft skin on his neck, careful to lurk in special spots. He remembers the feel of Karl’s hair in between his fingers, how soft it was, how it was damp on the bottom from sweat. He remembers not caring, focusing on how Karl’s breaths fell in and out of his lungs, filling the space by Sapnap’s ears with warm fog. It made his heart race, how Karl had a controlling grip on his neck, how he would guide him wordlessly to his sweet spots. He was vulnerable; he was beautiful.
He wished that he hadn’t gotten so drunk. He’s stuck thinking about what could’ve happened if they had just stayed a little longer, if they hadn’t stopped.
Their connection was powerful, Sapnap remembers it. When they first locked eyes across the humid, dense room, Sapnap somehow, somewhere in his gut, knew that they would end up behind a locked door later. It seemed inevitable, and chances are it actually was.
Against his odds, Sapnap was not a social person. He didn’t leave his room, he didn’t stop working, he never stopped studying. He was smart, and was determined to make it out of college smarter. He’d never even considered having a boyfriend, or even stopping to make some goddamn friends. He had a few: Dream, obviously, George, Dream’s boyfriend, Bad, who was back home… and that was it. He didn’t really need them. Friends wouldn’t get him good grades anyways.
But Karl. Godforsaken Karl Jacobs, who had the prettiest laugh on earth, who was too kind for his own good, who was the best kisser Sapnap had ever come close to. The feeling in his chest was so big, expanding endlessly, and it felt like it might combust.
He had to get this
off his mind.
He knew he had to stop thinking about it. It would just crush him more and more.
He blinked back to the real world, walking back into his room, where hour-loads of work were laid unkempt on his desk. Instead of reopening his computer, he picked up his phone and opened Spotify, searching for something to satisfy his desire. He lamely ended up picking “Stuck On a Feeling” by Prince Royce and Snoop Dog, not really sure what he was even looking for. But the moment the beat picked up, he knew he picked the right thing.
Stuck on a feeling
Just can’t stop, once ain’t enough
Better lock this down, better box it up
Gotta work me out, make it real
Gotta make it count
Get stuck on a feeling
He could feel his heart rate start to pick up the pace as the chorus repeated again. The lyrics were hitting him a little too close, as embarrassing as that is. The song ends, and something else starts to play, but he cuts it off, immediately replaying “Stuck On a Feeling.” Before setting his phone down, he makes the pathetic decision to loop it and let his mind take control.
—
He shouldn’t have let his mind take control.
He finds himself, somehow, somehow, at a another party. He, himself, had asked Dream to go to a party with him tonight. Sapnap had asked. It made his stomach churn just thinking about it; he did not want to go to a party tonight, but he had to find Karl. His need to see Karl again was more powerful than any slight discomfort he had. There was a huge, unbearable weight on his chest; he had to do something about it.
His body seemed heavier as he entered the party. It was loud, louder than he liked, and there were people in every square inch. It was suffocating, but Sapnap hoped that it would be worth it.
He dragged himself around the party, pointedly ignoring all substances that were in his line of view. He was not going to get drunk tonight. His words had to come out sober, or else it wouldn’t matter as much as he wanted it to.
An elongated hour passed, and Sapnap was just about ready to give up. Go home, maybe cry, maybe loop some songs that would make the coil in his heart tighten. Leaned up against a wall in some hallway, he played with his rings absently. There were less people in this hallway, even though it was still packed. He just wanted to get away already. He didn’t want to be in this stuffy place any longer, and he could barely stand the smell of all the sweaty people. He longed for Karl’s scent. He swore that if he focused enough, he could smell him very vaguely. Vaguely.
And then the scent wasn’t so vague anymore. Actually, it was suddenly prominent, and Sapnap knew he was near. He had to be, right? He wouldn’t mistake Karl’s sweet smell, he knew it surprisingly well for only meeting once. But he knew because the scent lingered on his clothes after he left the party, and he was very careful to preserve it until yesterday, when he finally brought himself to wash the load.
His eyes frantically scanned his surroundings, trying to find the fluffy mess of hair he knew too well. With every second that he didn’t see Karl, his heart drained of hope. He just wanted to find Karl again. He was stuck on a feeling, and he couldn’t let it go any longer.
He was just about ready to give up after his search brought him all the way back to the front room. Just about ready to book it and go home. Maybe let himself cry a bit, let himself be sad for a moment that he might never get the chance to—
“Sapnap?”
The speed of his turn almost gave him whiplash. He almost lost his balance turning around, following the sound of the melodic voice that was--
“Karl,” fell out of his mouth, breathlessly.
Karl stood there blankly for a moment. He was in a sweater that Sapnap doesn’t think anyone else could pull off, black jeans that he recognizes from that night, and Converse that he also recognizes. His breath is involuntarily pulled from him as he not-so-subtly checks Karl out. His hair is perfect, just like Sapnap remembers, and his eyes are wide and big and hopeful.
But Sapnap can’t help but notice something else behind them.
Karl starts to shake a little and his eyes fall.
“Karl?” he asks again, his voice dripping with worry. He’s not sure Karl could even hear him over the crowd, so he steps closer to him. Against his luck, someone accidentally pushes him, which leads him to slightly stumble even closer to Karl. He steps back a tiny step, not trying to overstep unspoken boundaries.
“It’s been two weeks,” Karl says weakly, and now Sapnap can sense something is definitely wrong. Karl’s eyes are slightly sad, looking down then back to Sapnap’s, then down again.
“Yeah…” he treads lightly, “... that’s why I came to find you again.”
Karl looks puzzled for a moment, his head tilting slightly. “Why? You could have just texted, or something….” His tone is slightly accusatory.
Did he miss something?
Karl continues, his voice sounding just above the loud crowd. “I was kind of hoping… I don’t know. Did I miss something?”
“Did I?” Sapnap asked before he could think of a better response. He was
really
confused now, palms starting to sweat. He wiped them on his jeans, trying to be subtle. “How was I supposed to text you? I didn’t have your-”
“I gave it to you!” Karl blurts, cutting him off. His tone isn’t mean, but Sapnap can tell he’s a little disappointed. It makes his heart twist.
“You… did?” Sapnap asks cluelessly. “Like… verbally…? Because—”
“No, you nimrod! I slipped it into your jean pocket that night. How did you not… oh my god, you’re an idiot, Sap.” His voice was laced with disbelief, shocked that Sapnap was so stupid. But he was smiling now, rubbing his face with incredulity.
“Oh.” He thinks about this for a moment, tracing his steps from the night they hooked up to the paper he saw ruined in the laundry. He gasps suddenly with the realization. “Oh! Oh my god.” He starts to laugh, and Karl follows along easily. His heart strings are pulled at when he hears Karl’s giggle again, and he remembers what he came here for.
Their laughter dies down, and Karl speaks up, a big grin on his face. “So you came to find me, huh?”
Sapnap can’t even deny it. He stutters uncontrollably, trying to find the right words. “I, well, I had to, because, well, god, I just-” he cuts himself off with a groan, and rubs his eyes.
Fuck it,
he decides, and starts to ramble. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I can’t even get any work done because of it, so I had to do something about it. And I somehow landed myself at another gross party. Looking… for you.” He sighs slightly.
Karl’s eyes light up at the confession. His full attention is on Sapnap, Karl’s eyes locked onto his, coaxing him to say more.
So he does. “I can’t stop thinking about what could have been. Like, what more could I have gotten away with? And I can’t stop remembering, and then thinking, and then remembering more, and it’s this endless cycle of wishful thinking, which is a pain in the ass, and I think I really miss you, or like you, or something, because I can’t--”
Karl’s hands shut him up before his lips do. One hand reaches for his neck and another grabs his waist, and he’s hit with this wave of deja vu before he can think, and then Karl’s soft lips collide with his and he can’t even remember what point he was trying to make. All at once, they’re all over each other again, and Sapnap feels a flood of relief was through him. He’s hit with how much he longed for a second chance at this, and he tries to memorize every single detail of Karl’s touch while also trying to kiss effectively. It’s hard, but he manages to note exactly how cold and exhilarating Karl’s hand feels on his bare skin below his shirt, how the touch on his neck sends sparks where his fingers lay and rub, and how Karl’s soft lips feel against his chapped pair. He feels like he’s on fire. It takes him a moment to notice how he’s droned out the sounds of the party.
Karl pulls away for a moment, breathing deeply. Their foreheads rest upon each other’s, and Karl slides his hand down Sapnap’s neck to his shoulder. Their air mingled in the space between them.
“I missed you, too, I think,” Karl teases, muttering through his smile, rubbing Sapnap’s waist a bit.
Sapnap heats up at the touch, stiffening then relaxing again. He was in Karl’s arms again, finally, and it felt like he could breathe again. The smile plastered on his face doesn’t falter.
“Want to get out of here?” Sapnap asks, making eye contact. He grins, and Karl shoots one right back at him. “Maybe grab a bite? Maybe effectively get your number?”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Karl teases, and pulls away from Sapnap. He misses the warmth, but he’s soon rewarded with a hand latching onto his, their palms flat against each other, fingers not interlaced. Later on their date, he learns that this is pancake style. Karl says it’s his favorite, and Sapnap complies. (Even though he soon learns that “waffle style” is his favorite, he makes a sacrifice for Karl.)
After short moments of texting their parties that they’re heading out together, they take their seats in Sapnap’s car. Sapnap buckles, then motions for Karl to hand him the aux. “I’ve got a song I want to play,” he says, grinning.
Karl gives him a skeptical look, but hands it to him. He watches intently as Sapnap punches letters into the Spotify search bar, and then turns his eyes to the stereo where it displays the song.
“Prince Royce and Snoop Dog. ‘Stuck On a Feeling,’” Karl reads deadpan, smiling. He gives Sapnap a look that says,
Are you serious?
Sapnap just shrugs. “I find it quite relevant,” he jokes, snickering at his own comment.
Karl rolls his eyes and laughs his beautiful laugh as the song starts. Sapnap can’t help but notice Karl starting to bop his head and tap his foot.
“You like it,” Sapnap accusingly states, grinning with pride.
“Stop,” Karl giggles, reaching over for Sapnap’s hand over the console. “It’s catchy .”