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How long have they been driving? It feels like years. The road all blurs to the same haze of grey below a blue, annoyingly bright sky. Just the two of them this time, on the long road back to Orlando. They're somewhere in Georgia, a country highway between interstates where the speed limits are infuriating and the scenery is idyllic enough to be enraging.
Sapnap’s getting sick of driving, but Karl's in the passenger seat with his headphones in, socked feet curled up onto the seat while he answers questions on his Instagram live. Or maybe he's on TikTok? Sapnap truly doesn't remember which one it is, and honestly keeps forgetting Karl’s even live. He spends long stretches in silence using his phone like a mirror, or he'll lean over the center console, headphones plucked from his ears, the mic cradled and deafened in his palm, and whisper something to Sapnap. Something low and soft, his phone angled away so no one sees how close Karl's nose is to brushing Sapnap’s cheek. That's enough to make him blush, accidentally cancel the cruise control, and be perfectly alright with driving for a few more hours.
Until his leg starts to cramp. It's a long, thin flare of pain, a cord pulling down his back and all the way into his calf. And they're nearly out of gas, but mainly the cramp. He bitches about it, of course, and Karl tells him to simply stop being a baby. Chat tells him they hope his cramp goes away, or at least that's what Karl relays.
“Can you find us a gas station? It'll show you the prices if you look on Google maps,” Sapnap says, reaching one hand down to knead at his leg. Karl hums in acknowledgement, but he starts talking about merch shipping a second after. Sapnap glances over and sees Karl tapping at his phone, so he must be looking.
Then, two entire Glaive songs later, Karl is still talking.
“Karl,” Sapnap says, poking him in the arm. Mildly annoyed. “Gas.”
“Oh shit, right, that's what I was looking at. Sorry. I got distracted,” Karl switches back over to the maps app, and discreetly reaches his free hand across the cupholders to brush his knuckles against the bare skin of Sapnap’s knee, his true apology. Sapnap chews on his tongue and sniffs, refusing to be bought that easily.
“Um… prices aren't great anywhere , so how's about you just get off up here since there's a 7/11 and we can get slurpees, at least.” Karl looks over at him, and Sapnap has to resist the urge to turn and stare. When he doesn't, Karl hums and lets his phone fall into his lap, stretching both hands out to gently remove Sapnap's hat, and then stuff it onto his own fluffy head. “Don't be cranky just because you don't eat enough bananas and now you’re suffering the consequences.”
“Not getting enough potassium or whatever isn't the only reason you get cramps,” Sapnap says, and he does spare a quick look at Karl after he merges into the right lane, watching him tug on the brim of the hat and tuck his wispy hairs in. He needs a haircut. It brushes against his neck when he moves his head around, which is often, and the sway of it is so distracting.
“Yeah, but being as banana-deficient as you are probably doesn't help.” Karl’s smiling at him, he can tell, and it's a crime that he can't smile back right at him.
“I know someone who isn't banana-deficient,” Sapnap mutters, giggling to himself when Karl smacks his arm. Also giggling.
“Gross. Also you're taking a right up here.”
The gas station is just a little ways off the highway, all but vacant except for one empty car parked by the building. It's a little wooded, strangely, all the plants reaching their fresh spring leaves through the chain link fence on the property line. When Sapnap parks next to a pump and steps out, tenderly, the humidity nearly chokes him. He pays for gas and starts pumping it, making slow laps around the car to try and stretch out his leg. On his third lap, Karl opens the car door and pokes his head out, blocking Sapnap’s path.
“Are we gonna get snacks too?” He asks, leaning so hard out of the car that Sapnap’s worried he’ll fall out.
“What do you want?” Sapnap asks, moving closer so Karl doesn't crane his neck so much. He leans his hand on the top of the door frame, stooping just a little.
“You know my gas station order by now, don't you?” Karl sat back in the seat a little, but he's still leaning forward enough that Sapnap can see his freckles and his deep grey-blue eyes so clearly. His eyes are a little fucked after driving for a few straight hours, but what better way to recalibrate than by staring at Karl? “I know yours. If you wanna sit, with your leg, I can go in and get everything.”
Sapnap hums, leaning in even closer. God he's so pretty. And sweet. “Are you gonna take your turn driving now, finally?”
Karl rolls his eyes, turning to set his phone against the gearshift while he pulls on his shoes. “Yes, I'll take my turn now. Thank you for driving for, like, way more than half of today.”
When Karl looks up at him, his perfect mouth quirked in a sincere, adorable smile, Sapnap doesn't have any strength to resist him. It isn't his fault he bends lower, lower, and leans in. Karl looks up from his shoelaces, a little confused, but he doesn't back away when Sapnap presses a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. He has to tilt his head at a bit of an odd angle because Karl's still wearing his hat, but that kind of adds to it. Karl in his hat. Karl in his car, driving to his house. He sighs, pulling back gently when Karl reaches up, brushes his cheek, and whispers the most terrifying sentence Sapnap's ever heard in his life.
“I'm still live, you stupid idiot.”
Sapnap freezes, but just briefly. He refuses to even look in the direction of the phone, backing slowly, calmly away from Karl like he's a grizzly bear. Karl, for his part, cannot stop laughing. He's still putting his shoes on, trying to silently laugh into his hand, while Sapnap back steps around the car to stand safely out-of-frame by the gas pump. As it clicks off, Sapnap hears Karl stumbling his way through a goodbye.
“Um, okay, so I'm gonna go guys! It's my turn to drive, Sapnap and I just had a quick totally off-camera discussion about it, and yeah! Thanks for hangin’ out! Loveyoubye!”
He can tell when the live is over, truly over, because Karl leans his seat all the way back and howls his laughter to the heavens.