Chapter Text
A loud sneeze could be heard through the hallways, followed by a coughing fit. Trophy squeezed his eyes shut, frowning as his sleep got interrupted by his roommate’s noises.
“Ugh…”
As Tissues cleared his throat and sat up on his bed, Trophy raised his hands and covered his face, letting out an exasperated sigh. Tissues slowly turned to look in his direction. “Hey Twophy,” he said, sniffing and sneezing a second time, not bothering to cover his mouth.
“Stop being so loud for fuck’s sake.” With a tired expression, Trophy uncovered himself and struggled while trying to get up from his bed.
“Cawn’t help it. It’s my condishawn,” Tissues reminded him, getting up much faster than the other and going to the bathroom.
Trophy just glared at him, but more out of habit than real anger. He let out a huff as he managed to get free from the blankets, he walked towards the door and opened it to get out of the room.
Today was not a good day to take photos, his mood didn’t rise up as he took a look at the things he photographed. Sure, he could do interesting shots with the fog and he was honestly pretty good at it, but he wanted it to be sunny today.
Trophy let out a disappointed sigh, looking at his camera for a moment before putting it inside his cup to hide it from the noisy residents. He left the place after lunch and now he had to go back inside, what a waste of the day.
He turned and started walking towards the hotel, how long had he been outside anyway?
As he closed the main door of the hotel, he lazily looked around, spotting two bickering objects sitting on the couch. He approached them and stood beside them. “Hey, what are you losers up to?” He asked, a bored expression adorned his face as he looked at the TV screen.
“Trophy shut up, Pickle and I are trying to win this round,” Knife said, not even giving Trophy a glance as he tried to focus on the game. Pickle only snickered at Knife’s error that almost led the metallic object to lose, gaining an annoyed huff from him.
Trophy rolled his eyes, stepping closer to the both of them and towering over the couch.
“Come on, a videogame? How lame.”
His little comment got Pickle’s attention.
“Lame? Alright.”
As Pickle continued to play, he leaned closer to Knife, smirking. “Knife, I bet 20 bucks that Trophy won’t even be able to go past the first level of this game,” as he said that, he ended up winning level 70 of the game. Knife only nodded, accepting the bet.
Trophy scoffed at his comment, but then he realized that Knife was betting on him winning. What was his problem? Trophy surely didn’t need the other to be on his side. He shook his head and looked at the screen, the audacity of these two.
“Please, I bet it’s easy as heck,” he said with a mocking tone, taking a seat beside Knife and grabbing the controller from him.
Knife gave him a dirty look, Pickle patted him on the shoulder to soothe him. “Don’t worry Knife, he will probably give up after a while–” “I won’t!” Trophy exclaimed, already annoyed.
Pickle didn’t say anything else and just shrugged as he went on the menu of the game to start a new entry. “Here, let’s start with something really easy, Trophy.” He selected his character to play as he waited for Trophy to do the same, but after a couple of seconds the screen remained unmoving.
He glanced towards the golden cup, noticing the object’s confusion as to what to do with the controller. He raised an eyebrow, an amused smirk appeared on his face, the smile getting wider as he noticed Knife’s unbelieving expression towards Trophy.
Trophy stared at the screen dumbfounded, his eyes bouncing from the controller, to the screen, to the character selection, and back again. He clearly had no idea how to actually play.
“Uhh…” He mumbled out, trying to keep his cool, pretending to look like he knew what he was doing but to no avail as he lowered his gaze to the controller in his hands.
Knife, not wanting to lose 20 bucks because of Trophy’s lack of skills on the game, tried to help him.
“Is the A button not working?”
He leaned closer to Trophy while pointing at said button, hoping that this will give the jock a clue on what to do since the button obviously wasn’t broken.
“Not fair,” Pickle said to himself in a jokingly offended tone. Knife managed to hear him but just ignored his comment as he looked back at the screen, not moving away from Trophy.
What he didn’t manage to notice was Trophy flinching at his closeness, slightly blushing and tensing up.
The small contact made him feel a sort of weird feeling he’d never felt before.
“I know how to use a button, you idiot!” He nervously snapped, attempting to mask how the closeness affected him.
“Then hurry up. We’re trying to play here, remember?” Pickle said jokingly with a slight hint of amusement, unlike Knife he indeed noticed the blush on Trophy’s face.
He was not going to point it out though, he already knew this was going to be entertaining, even better if Knife noticed at some point.
Trophy scowled at Pickle’s comment, his face getting hotter when he looked towards him and saw the slight smirk on his face. The green food gave a quick glance at Knife then looked back at him.
Trophy felt his heartbeat stop for a moment.
Damn it!
He knows?! Or at least, has he noticed something?
Wait, notice what?! What was that damn idiot implying with that look? And what was he himself thinking of?! He was not interested in Knife!
Trophy quickly looked back at the TV and angrily pressed the button to select his character. He didn’t really look at the screen to see which one he picked, just slammed his thumb down and hoped for the best.
“... That’s an... Interesting choice,” Pickle tried to say in a straight tone as he looked back at the screen, he tried to hide his will to laugh right on the spot.
Knife wasn’t able to be subtle with it and let out a wheeze, coughing to try to play it off. “W– Well, it is your first time at the end,” he commented, trying to choke out his laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Trophy let out an angry huff when he heard the other two snicker, his face feeling as hot as the sun at this point. He focused on the screen and saw his character.
Oh, of course.
Of course.
He had to pick the pink mushroom princess looking lady and it was now making an entrance in the scene.
“Oh! That’s my character!” Soap exclaimed, her sudden appearance making Trophy jump. Pickle and Knife had already noticed Soap approaching them, they were used to people sneaking from everywhere to watch them play.
“Is this your first time playing? I can help you and show you some tricks I learned for her!” She said, oblivious to the bet the other three had going on.
Trophy quickly recomposed himself and attempted to mask the redness on his face. He glanced at Pickle and Knife and saw them both staring at him with amused smirks.
Damn them both straight to hell.
“Yeah, yeah whatever. Sure.” He rolled his eyes nonchalantly, glancing at the other two and giving them a subtle glare, trying to warn them not to say a damn word.
Soap finished explaining the basics of her usually chosen character to Trophy, the other listened with attention, giving a small smile towards her to show gratitude. “And that’s all I’m going to say, it’s more fun when you figure it out yourself!” She said, leaning on the couch and standing between Knife and Trophy, leaving them close enough to each other.
Soap’s movement made Trophy self-conscious of how close he and Knife were sitting, he glanced at the other’s leg, touching it with his own without realizing. He could already tell that Knife was getting suspicious by how weird he was acting. Why the hell was he feeling a warmth coming off him? And why did it feel so nice that he wanted to lean into it? Nope nope nope. He couldn’t. Trophy couldn’t let whatever turmoil was happening inside of him get in the way. The way he was acting was so lame and embarrassing, all because of–
“Uhh, Trophy? You good there buddy?” Knife abruptly interrupted the jock’s thoughts, noticing how the other kept staring at him.
Soap looked between the two boys, a surprised look on her face appeared as she noticed the tension between the two. She quickly brought her attention towards Pickle, who averted his gaze from the two and looked up to see Soap, giving her a knowing look.
Trophy was brought back to reality when he heard Knife’s voice, snapping out of his thoughts and looking at him.
“What? Yeah, I’m fine! Why do you ask,” he quickly said annoyed, making sure that any trace of his previous thoughts was wiped from his face. He could feel Soap and Pickle staring at him.
“Now that you know the basics, can we start?” Pickle changed topic, not being able to stand the silence that was starting to fill the place. He didn’t really give the other time to respond as he started playing, Trophy clumsily following him in the game.
Trophy let out an annoyed scoff as he followed Pickle in the adventure of the game, trying his best to actually do well in it, but sadly failing every step of the way.
The longer they played, the more frustrated he became.
In the end, Trophy ended up making the character die in the stupidest way possible.
Soap looked at the screen, she knew it was Trophy’s first time but she didn’t expect it to be that bad.
She wasn’t gonna be rude though and tried to say something nice. “Oh, that’s–” Soap interrupted herself, not having a clue on what to say. “Well, that was fun, right?” She ended up saying, giving up on the complimenting part.
Trophy let out an extremely annoyed groan when his character died, his head falling forward in frustration and embarrassment. When the girl called it fun he just turned and gave her a look, obviously trying not to get angry and have a tantrum on the spot.
“Yeah, sure. Fun,” he muttered under his breath.
“I won. 20 bucks, Knife,” Pickle said in an amused tone, talking to his best friend.
Trophy’s eye twitched in annoyance when he heard that, knowing exactly what they were talking about. Why the hell did he agree to this?!
“Oh, shut it you twerp,” he snapped at the pair, still pissed off about the game, and his flushed face wasn’t helping him much either.
“You guys were betting on Trophy losing the game? That’s so mean!” Soap gasped out, clearly offended on Trophy’s behalf.
Knife just gave Soap a bored look and shrugged. He handed 20 bucks to Pickle, slightly annoyed.
“Alright, now give me the controller, I want to play,” he said, not particularly specifying who he was talking to.
Trophy was going to hand him the controller but Pickle was faster, handing it to Knife.
“Here you go bro, I’m taking a break. I’m craving pickles,” Pickle commented, Soap gave him a quick look. “I’m going to the kitchen to start cooking for dinner, do you want to come, Pickle?” The boy nodded, getting up to follow her. “Have fun you two!” She said, both leaving Knife and Trophy alone on the couch.
Trophy watched as his only ally walked away into the kitchen, leaving him alone with Knife.
As soon as they were out of eyesight, Trophy slumped into the couch with his head down, letting out a groan in frustration and making the controller fall from his hand on the cushion.
Knife gave him a look and then glanced down to look at his own controller. “... Do you want to play together? No betting,” he suggested, surprisingly in a calming tone. He noticed Trophy’s nervousness earlier and wanted to help him, he didn’t know why, he just wanted to.
Maybe Microphone’s moral of ‘doing the right thing’ or doing random little acts of kindness was starting to get him and he recognised that it was the right thing to do.
Trophy glanced towards him when he heard Knife’s offer, a small part of him getting excited at the thought of just spending time together. But he quickly shaked that feeling off, mentally scolding himself.
“What’s the catch?” He asked, suspicious of Knife’s true intentions. What if he was doing it just to have something against him? That would be a good payback for what he did to him in the past–
Knife slightly lifted his eyebrow. “Catch? There is no catch, we can just play,” he said, giving him a small smile and making his heart flutter. “It’ll be fun.” Knife went on the menu and selected his usual character, waiting for Trophy’s turn to choose his.
Trophy watched as Knife selected his character, feeling that strange warm feeling again when he smiled at him. For some reason, the smile was infectious, but he quickly shook it off and picked his own character.
“Fine, whatever. But I’m not losing again,” Trophy said, trying to make himself sound determined.
“If you say so,” Knife said, playing along.
After playing for a while, Knife and Trophy ended up losing together. “... Yeah, that’s the boss Pickle wasn’t able to win against for a good while,” he commented, letting out a defeated sigh.
Trophy let out a frustrated huff as they lost in the game. He was trying to stay calm, but was clearly pissed about losing so many times.
“Are you serious? How the hell are we supposed to beat that thing?” He asked, throwing his hands up in annoyance as he was deeply immersed into the game.
“Well, we either stay here until... Uh.” Knife quickly took his phone out to look at the time, noticing that it was already 9:30 p.m. “Damn. We skipped dinner?” He asked, a look of confusion forming on his face. “Why didn’t the others or OJ call us to eat?” Knife looked around, noticing that the two of them were playing in the dark the whole time.
Turning around, he also noticed the light and the other residents’ voices coming out of the kitchen.
Trophy glanced around when Knife mentioned that it was late, noticing that the sun had already set a long time ago and that everyone else was probably almost done eating.
Trophy’s stomach growled slightly, he hadn’t realized he was hungry until now. When Knife turned around to look at the kitchen, Trophy had a chance to take a good look at his face, the soft lighting from the kitchen made him look… Almost attractive.
“... Phy... Trophy. Hey.” Knife waved a hand in front of Trophy’s face, finally snapping him out of his thoughts. “There you are, I thought I lost you for a moment there,” he said, amused by the other’s reaction.
Embarrassment crept onto his golden face once again, why the hell was he just staring at him like that?
He quickly looked away, trying to be nonchalant. “What? I was just distracted, that’s all.”
“I said that everyone is probably done by now, do you want to wait for everyone to leave so we can go eat together?” Trophy looked at him with a surprised expression, to which Knife answered with a confused one, thinking of his previous words. “... Well, you don’t have to follow me if you don’t want to, I don’t really care man,” he tried to say, looking nonchalant as he got more comfortable on his spot.
Trophy paused for a moment again, looking at Knife while contemplating the offer in his head.
On one hand, he’d get to be alone with Knife, but that would also mean more time for his strange, unwanted feelings to develop.
On the other hand, he could quickly join the rest of the contestants in the kitchen, but he’d have to deal with all those other annoying objects. He didn’t want Fan to make him drop his food, Cheesy to make some dumb joke about his very carefully chosen diet or even worse, Tissues sneezing on his fucking food–
Trophy let out a sigh and looked at the Knife again. “I’ll wait with you,” he said quietly. “But don’t think about it too hard! You’re just as annoying as the others!” He added, confusing the other.
Knife just nodded in acknowledgement, he looked in front of him and noticed that the TV was still on.
“... Say, Trophy. Why did you do that?” He asked after a couple of seconds without looking at him, as if he was remembering a distant memory.
Trophy was caught off guard by the question, his turn to look at Knife in confusion. What the hell was he talking about? The question was too open-ended, he had no idea what to answer.
“What do you mean ‘did that’? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Trophy said, confusion mixed with annoyance in his voice.
“The blackmailing thing,” he mentioned, turning to look him in the eyes. “After today I realized you’re actually not that bad of a company, but I still don’t understand why you would do such a thing. For what? A good laugh?” Knife asked, not accusingly but with a more disappointed tone.
Trophy’s eyes widened as Knife brought the blackmailing thing back up. The guilt started to grow on him as Knife looked at him. Trophy avoided eye contact, looking down at his lap instead.
He couldn’t look at Knife, not when he knew what he did. But the disappointment in his voice only made the guilt worse.
“I... Uh…” Trophy struggled to say anything, his thoughts racing non-stop and barely giving him any time to collect himself.
Knife waited for the other’s response, shifting his position on the couch and crossing his arms to get more comfortable. He really wanted to know what the golden cup had to say now that some time passed after that incident, if he was really sorry like Soap said to him a couple of days ago or if he was not sorry at all, still finding it funny.
Trophy’s mind was going a mile a minute trying to think of a response, anything he could say to make it seem like what he did was somewhat reasonable. His guilt was only getting worse as time went on, and Knife’s expectant stare wasn’t helping the matter.
With a quiet, shaky voice, Trophy finally gave a response. “I... I just wanted to win…” And what a shitty one he gave to Knife, he mentally slapped himself.
“And... In order to do that you tried to bring me down?” Knife stared at him with an expecting look.
Trophy could feel himself wilting under Knife’s stare, the increasing levels of guilt feeling like a heavy weight crashing down on him. It was making it hard for him to think straight for an answer.
Trophy let out a small huff, the guilt turned into defensiveness for a moment.
“Why do you care, anyway? It’s just a competition. It’s not like we’re friends.” As Trophy finished his little rant, his eyes shot wide as he realized what he had just said. “No, wait, I–”
Knife’s expression changed to one of surprise, but he quickly collected himself and gave him a hard stare. “Yeah... You’re right, we’re not friends.” He got up, letting out a disappointed sigh. “We’re not ready to be,” he said with a quiet voice as he left the room to go to the kitchen, leaving Trophy behind.
Trophy sat there on the couch, his expression filled with shock. That was a downright lie, he wanted to be friends with Knife, he just didn’t know how to say it.
A sudden pang of guilt and hurt went through Trophy’s entire body as it finally hit him. He lost the only chance he had of being something more than just competitive rivals with Knife. The moment Knife’s face changed to disappointment, Trophy felt a sense of dread wash over him.
No no no, why did he say that? He didn’t actually mean it. His shock abruptly ended, however, once he realized that Knife had left and was heading to the kitchen. Trophy couldn’t let him leave like that, not after what he had just said.
“No, wait, Knife!” Trophy’s voice came out shaky and strained, desperate. He got up and rushed after Knife to the kitchen.