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“Urgh ! Man, how do you keep doing that ?” Pickle huffed, taking a minute to stretch his hands out after losing for the 10th time in a row.
“Oh what? Winning” Knife chuckled.
Scoffing, pickle chucked a punch at his arm
“oh alright, smartass! “ Grinning, Pickle specified “i meant that move, you keep kicking my ass with it”
“A magician never reveals his secrets ! ” Knife smugly stated, causing Pickle to roll his eyes in response.
“Alright, magic man.” “I’m getting a soda. Don't. let anyone steal my spot. ” Pickle jutted a finger at him before stalking off.
“Yeahyeah” Waving him off, Knife dropped the controller on his spot. This couch was big enough for four people anyways, not like one more person would be that big of a deal.
Knife leaned back, wincing when that familiar pain pulsed from his back and all around to the rest of him.
He grimaced,
Huffing as he finally rested, how long have they been playing ? 2 hours ? Probably, that’s usually when Pickle takes a break.
He doesn't have a watch, and his phone has been dead since this morning.
He pops his lips, tuning his own thoughts out.
listening to the background, the hotel lobby was sparked with life,
Soap, mic, salt, and pepper stuck out to him first. Their voices are probably the loudest, Or maybe it's just their laughs.
Listening into their conversation briefly, only thing he could gleam from it is that it was about makeup, piercings, and clothes, not really that interesting to him.
He snorts, remembering mic practically begging him to let her style him, she ended up decorating him in the same way she dresses.
He admits, it did look cool, just not his style personally. With all those, Spikes, and collars, and jewelry. Too much for him, he quite likes his windbreaker.
Man that's ironic, ages ago he would have loved to dress all sharp like that.
Suitcase really mellowed him out, huh?
…
Everyone really mellowed him out…
He pushed back in the couch, ignoring that.. searing pain from that long healed wound, frowning at himself.
He couldn't hear fan or testube's ramblings anywhere, so that probably means the remaining bright lights are outside, or wherever else they go when they aren't here.
it should Not take this long to get a soda,
“OJ, I really don't want to be out here” his old host's voice suddenly caught his attention, slightly far off, but growing closer.
“Yeah- I don't care. “ OJ seemingly responded “I'm not letting you stay holed up in your room 24/7”
Knife twisted and lifted himself to look back at them, surprisingly way closer than he expected them to be.
OJ was dragging Mephone by the wrist over to the couch
“oh you mean the storage closet.” Mephone grumbled, it was definitely meant to be only to himself, but Mephone was never good at being quiet
Oj glared at him in response, making Mephone stare at the ground as they walked.
Basically throwing him on the seat besides Knife, Oj rubbed his face.
“You. Make sure he stays here, I do not have the time to deal with this today” he says. Gesturing with his hands before storming off. Not even giving Knife a chance to respond.
Mephone huffed, tucking his knees up to himself and wrapping his arms around them. He doesn't really seem up for talking, and refuses to make eye contact.
Knife sat back down, his brows furrowing in concern.
He hasn't really. Talked. To Mephone since the finale, he knows Suitcase has. And Balloon…
He readjusted his jacket, clearing his throat.
“Aye, i’m back” Pickle said, throwing Knife’s controller on his lap as he took back his spot. Making Knife jump, he grumbled as he picked it up “took you long enough.”
Looking over Knife, “hey mephone” pickle greeted him.
Mephone made a sound in response, weakly raising his hand as a mock wave, not looking at either of them.
Pickle raise an eyebrow at Knife and then pointed at Knife, he just shrugged in response.
Pickle shrugged back, returning to the game.
Knife must have zoned out at some point, He stopped taking note of the details.
He only snapped back when Mephone leaned on him, causing him to finally lose.
Pickle cheered, poking him and prodding at him in celebration. Knife laughed mock defended himself, lightly swatting at pickle hands.
They’d pushed against mephone doing this, but he didn't seem to notice, as he fell back against Knife once they settled.
“Pickle win streak starts now babyy..” Pickle mumbled to himself as they started another round,
Knife huffed “as if” in retort, causing Pickle to grin.
Knife was more focused on the arm that wrapped around his, however. And the sounds of mephone generating cookie after another cookie.
It must have been another hour of playing before Pickle decided to head in for the night, 8 o’ clock, is what he said it was.
Knife waved goodbye as Pickle walked off.
A small silence filled the lobby, oh. When did the others leave? It’s whatever, he liked the quiet.
.
.
.
Another generation, a soft crunch from Mephone.
Knife looked down at him, he looks like he was on the edge of crying.
“Uh..”
Mephone winced at him, shoot. He sucks at this stuff.
“...How many of those have you had?”
Mephone grumbled at him, not really forming any words.
Knife looked away, using his free hand to scratch the back of his blade.
Mephones hand squeezed around Knife's arm, as he readjusted it into his pockets. “Look i'm-” Knife frowned
“You’ll get a stomachache if you keep eating, just-” Knife reaches for Mephone's other wrist. Making Mephone pull back, “that can't happen, I'm a robot remember”
Knife deadpanned “ ...really?”
“So those times you left hotel activities because of stomach pains were lies ?”
Mephone growled, of course Knife would remember something like that.
Mumbling,“...only half of them”
Knife huffed out a laugh, shaking his head “you're so weird, man”
Knife fell back into the couch, Mephones hand finally releasing it's hold on him as he did so.
He grimaces and harshly Inhaled as he landed, he jolted up slightly before settled back down again.
Mephone looked at him, rubbing his mouth away of crumbs, “is that branding still bothering you ?”
Knife made a sound, waving his hand around instead of response, Mephone nodded.
“what's with you?”
Mephone just shrugged at him, looking away again
“.. just being nostalgic I guess”
He leaned back with Knife, now both cozy in the cushions of the couch.
“OJ’s a prick sometimes..” mephone grumbled,
“Yeah well, that’s your fault” Knife joked.
“ughh.. Don't remind me” Mephone groaned, making Knife chuckle.
“where’s Suitcase ?” mephone turned to him slightly.
“Room” Knife responded, Mephone hummed.
.
.
.
.
“you miss the show, huh?”
“Why wouldn't I !” Mephone threw his hands up, letting them fall instead of holding them, his tone exasperated.
“our whole life ! the one thing that I could- grrh” he slaps his face with his hands, running them down it. He mumbles “you already know this, Knife..”
Knife sighed, “yeah..”
“Are you okay, mephone?”
“..i’m fine”
“you don't look like it” “wanna watch a movie?”
.
.
“...yeah..”
Knife sat up, stalking around the small middle table to search through the cabin the TV sat on,
Why the hell were there so many romance movies in here, Paper.
Knife shook his head, finally finding a movie that seems up Mephone’s wheelhouse, “this seem good ?” He held it up to him, mephone nodded “..yeah”
Knife placed the Tape in the VCR and pressed play, grabbing the TV remote before returning to the couch.
He plopped back down, almost falling Back like he did last time. He felt Mephone's hands suddenly around both sides of his blade, catching him before his back hit anything.
Knife made a sound, and mephone lowered him back slowly, removing his hands afterwards. “thanks..”
Mephone hummed, adjusting to be more centered in the couch now, since it was just the two of them.
.
.
.
Halfway through the movie mephone was leaning on him again, he didn't mind.
He didn't mind the way Mephone's hand intertwined with his either. Knife rubbed his thumb against his metal, you'd expect it to be cold.
But it’s not.
.
.
.
Knife yawned, the credits rolling now. He looked over to Mephone only to see his sleep mode displaying.
Woops,
Knife didn't want to wake him, rubbing him thumb against his hand again. He felt his cheeks heat up, mumbling sounds to himself.
Knife throws his head back, shit he doesn't know Mephone’s room number.
He shouldn't just leave him asleep on the couch,
He’s not going to fall asleep with him on the couch. That’s a horrible idea.
Knife rubs his freehand down face. Fuck it. Yeah I guess he doing that.
Knife gets up, regretfully letting go of mephone’s hand.
Positioning himself in front of the sleeping mephone. He places his hands on mephone’s sides, under his arms, and lifts.
Oh he is way lighter than he expected. Still heavy, just. Lighter.
He makes sure he's holding onto him tightly before moving, only slightly being able to see over him.
Every light in the hotel is off, what time is it ?
It’s fine. It’s just a little late. Probably.
Finding his room number Knife turns the door open, Suitcase is long asleep, he shuffles in quietly. Pushing the door closed behind him with his heel.
Knife carefully places mephone on his bed, tucking him in in place of himself.
He shuffles back, looking at his work. Yep.
He sighs to himself, what is he doing.
He waves his hand, walking over to the dresser and pulling out the spare blanket quietly.
He throws it in the space in-between the two beds, before going to steal one of Suitcase’s extra pillows.
He’ll give it back. Probably.
He’ll deal with it in the morning.