Work Text:
This was idiotic.
Stupid situations only a simple-minded idiot could conjure up.
Killer wasn’t very fond of school. If anything he actually despised it. He used to be great at math, and algebra, and all the smart shit, but now he found he didn’t really give it much thought. Dream would always berate Killer on finishing his work or genuinely doing it in the first place. Killer would give absolutely anything to switch his dorm, but he wasn’t allowed for some reason. Something about it being too late in the year or whatever—he started tuning the counselor out the moment his request was denied. However, much to Killer’s dismay, he had to face the consequences of his actions. A shame really. What even was a consequence? Just some idiotic result of a stupid action that he otherwise paid little mind to. If he didn’t want to do work that didn’t even matter in the long run, what type of hold did they really have on him?
Despite his constant and somehow successful avoidance of punishments, Killer found himself in a predicament. The principal decided he’d had enough of the troublemaker and sent Killer out of his office with a tutor close behind. Damnit! Who did this guy think he was!? Killer was sure XGaster had a vendetta against him ever since he was caught with Cross that one time. The hate seemed to grow after Killer told XGaster that Cross was good with his tongue. Judging by the look of pure distraught on his principal's face, he started to reconsider his get-out-of-trouble tactics. That aside, Killer wasn’t going to listen to this stupid goody-two-shoes for shit or their creepy-looking principal. He didn’t want to do work so why should he even bother with a tutor anyways. XGaster knew he wasn’t going to listen so what was the reason behind “helping” him.
. . .
Killer’s gaze flickered up from the worksheet in front of him to the guy across the table. He was unamused at the very least, his face a distinct opposite of Swap’s grin.
“Sooo…” Swap started out, his words trailing off. He didn’t really know what to say or what to even do. The deadpan look coming from Killer discouraged Swap’s want to carry this job out. Though he threw the feelings aside, he couldn’t give up now, he wasn’t that weak! At least that was what he told himself. Swap presumed that if he kept an upbeat way of thinking, he was sure to support Killer. Even if Killer was a no-good agitator who broke Swap’s nose last week.
“What.” Killer sniped, glaring daggers at Swap. The latter blinked, pursing his lips as awkward silence spread between them. Eventually, Killer huffed and broke the silence, “I’m not going to listen to anything you say, you know that right?”
Swap didn’t respond, only letting his gaze fall to the table. Killer rolled his eyes, shifting in his chair to be more comfortable. This was a complete waste of his time. He was just going to sit here in silence with some freak who stared at the ground. However, the longer they didn’t talk, the more Killer started feeling bad about the splint on Swap’s nose. Killer sighed, drumming his fingers on his knee that was bouncing up and down. Stupid. Stupid kid, stupid work, stupid principal, and stupid sympathy Killer shouldn’t even have.
“Sorry,” Killer reluctantly admitted, wincing as the words involuntarily came out of his mouth.
Never in his 17 years would he even want that phrase leaving his mind. He’d only ever said sorry when he was forced, or did something so unbelievably stupid to someone he cared for to the point he felt obliged to. Which further backed up the so-called stupidity in apologizing to Swap. Killer almost immediately wanted to take the words black as he lifted his gaze up to see Swap’s lit up face. Gross.
“Really?!” Swap exclaimed, overjoyed at the idea of Killer apologizing. Killer didn’t really talk much to Swap—for obvious reasons—and the only time he did was a week ago when his nose was smashed.
“What, is it so fucking suprising that I have a heart?” Killer hissed, quickly letting his defensive demeanor fall back into place. His words seemed to hold no contest against Swap’s expression.
This was so meaningless in the long run. Killer only ate his words so that Swap could stop looking so…whatever. As his semi–friend Error would say: “Swap is just an anomaly with no need for sympathy!” That being said, Error would never actually say that because he had developed a liking to Swap for some reason. Nevertheless, his opinion still stood.
“No, It’s just…” Swap started, thinking for a minute before his excited grin faltered to a sheepish half-smirk, “Yeah…”
Killer huffed a little and crossed his arms. He propped his legs up on the table, making sure to avoid the papers scattered about. This was supposed to be a failed attempt to tutor him so he could laugh, not some taunt to his character. Swap seemed to notice Killer’s discomfort and fiddled with his fingers underneath the table.
“Sorry,” It was his turn to apologize. In his defense, Killer wasn’t really a “nice" type of person, and he was definitely the last person Swap expected to hear an apols from. The papers of yet-to-be-touched work lay strewn about the table, completely forgotten as the two awkwardly conversed. Killer obviously wasn’t up for much talking—or working for that matter—but Swap didn’t seem to back down.
“Thank you though,” Swap paused, glancing up at Killer to study his reaction before back at the table. He sighed, nervousness etched across his face. Swap really didn’t want his nose bashed in again, but he also didn’t want to leave such a bland apology in the air like that.
“The medical bills were covered by my insurance…and I’m pretty sure we can’t really press charges. You might not care, but I forgive you, if it means anything,” Swap mumbled.
Killer glanced away from his shoes and over at Swap. He studied the other’s expression and his eyebrows furrowed. He felt something stir in his chest, it made him feel like vomiting. This feeling was disgusting. It was the entire reason he’d punched Swap in the very first place. Feelings were overrated. Emotions were too. It was all just a support mechanism that gave feedback on whether something was wrong or right. The only reason people feel is because that’s how society makes their brains work. It’s like a network of cogwheels and mechanics that force people to express themselves. Society fixates on their emotions, misunderstanding the function and allowing it to lead them in the wrong direction. Negativity is a sign to take action while positivity rewards people for doing the right things. Everything comes with a built-in negative or sacrifice. A job someone seeks ends up being the root of all stress. The person they love is the person they feud with. Emotions are simple suggestions that people misinterpret as dictation. Emotions ensure that the subject can’t be happy if they can’t solve problems; they also can’t be upset if they don’t have a reason at the same time. Feelings are simple signposts, suggestions that neurobiology presents to society. Therefore they are untrustworthy. Therefore meaningless.
So why did Killer feel like this? Why did he like Swap? What gave him such fascination and adoration for a simple classmate he watched pass by him on the way to class? What was the reason behind the disgusting sensation in his throat every time he spared glances at Swap in the hallways. Killer didn’t want to develop a love for this freak. He didn’t want to feel. It was gross and so fake. False interpretations of feelings he knew he didn’t want to acknowledge. It was disgusting. Vile and irrelevant to his morality in a sense that messed up his train of thought at all times. Everything had a reason but Killer didn’t know the reason behind the way he felt. Swap wouldn’t—No, Swap couldn’t recuperate the idea of loving Killer. Killer could never imagine Swap genuinely liking him or even enjoying his company. Swap was handsome but pretty too. He had such a way of talking and getting his way out of unwanted situations. It was everything Killer could have dreamed of. A darling contrast to his rough exterior. But compared to Swap, Killer was nothing. Hell! He broke the guy's nose!? Who even does that?! It was the very first time Swap had ever talked to him. The latter had to give a note to a teacher but he needed directions to their classroom. He approached Killer and went to talk but was immediately cut off by a punch. Killer didn’t even know what possessed him to do that! He would've done anything, even suffered through the embarrassment of fumbling his words, but of course he had to ruin that gorgeous face. Killer felt so stupid. He taught himself to always choose fight instead of flight but it always kicked in at the wrong times. Killer wished he could change but it was basically impossible.
. . .
Swap looked over at Killer, it had been around 15 minutes since he asked the latter a question but Killer just continued staring off into space. Had his apology affected Killer that much? Swap tapped his foot on the ground slowly, trying to buy time before he would call out to Killer again. Eventually, he piped up, breaking the silence that was the empty classroom they occupied.
“Killer?” He asked, flinching as Killer jolted back to reality.
His surroundings kicked back in like the rain pattered against the window. When did it start raining? Killer moved his legs off of the table, situating himself in the chair before attempting to salvage whatever was left of his cold attitude.
“U-Uh– Yeah? Sorry, I got distracted with…um…” Killer glanced around the room, an embarrassed and forced smile making its way onto his face as he gestured to a poster across the barren class.
“That!– I was– uh. Studying. The words.” He blurted. Swap turned to look behind them at the poster and Killer wanted to make a run for it. Despite that, he kept himself seated, feeling even more embarrassed than he did getting caught zoning out. It wasn’t even humiliating, why would he make an excuse!? Stars, this was stupid. The one time Killer didn’t even need to make an excuse is when he did. He hadn’t even made an excuse for punching Swap, but of course he made one for the situation that didn’t need one.
“The…pig anatomy poster or...?” Swap asked, slowly turning his head back at Killer. The other junior seemed to be cringing despite the curt nod he gave at Swap’s words. Odd…but nothing Swap couldn’t deal with!
“Yeah,” Killer mumbled, his manner had changed in a matter of seconds and he hated it. He felt gross for feeling for this idiot but he felt even more disgusting at the way he talked to Swap.
“Killer, are you…feeling oka–”
“Yup!”
More awkward silence settled between them and they locked eyes. Swap searched Killer’s void-like eye sockets as if that would give him any information about his character. It didn’t. Killer quickly shifted, scooting his chair closer to the table and settling out the papers.
“H–how about we do this work–” He said quickly, straightening out the papers with more speed than his words. Swap gave him a confused look that Killer tried to ignore.
Swap really didn’t understand Killer. He seemed like such a simple person but the more they talked the less Swap could believe that this guy had broken his nose. It was so weird. The way Killer looked and acted made Swap believe he really was some fight–starter. Yet, the way Killer talked to him was so drastically different it was like they weren’t the same person. Why? Why did Killer break his nose but not give a reason? Why did he blatantly tell Swap that he wouldn't do work but now he was offering it up? Why was he so confusing? Swap wanted to know more about Killer, he wanted to be friends, but it was so hard to even converse with this guy. Stars, he was so handsome too. If Killer wasn’t so…Killer, Swap wouldn’t be opposed to dating him or even simply being good friends. That being said, Swap doubted it could be recuperated judging by the way Killer immediately chose violence the moment Swap said a simple, “Hi!” With a gentle yet confused smile, Swap moved his chair closer and helped Killer straighten out the papers. He glanced up at the other and attempted to study him again, but quickly went back to the work after Killer caught him staring. After a minute of silence, Swap spoke up and they officially started their work session (After tons of uncomfortable silence and weird tension).
Swap decided that maybe Killer wasn’t so bad. He’d try to worm his way through that hard shell, even if it meant acquiring more—likely unneeded—tutor sessions. He might even get the reason why his nose was broken. Though Swap doubted that.
Perhaps he was already starting to like the guy.
Perhaps they could at least be …friends.
.
.
.
Or something of the sorts.