Work Text:
George stares down at the paper in his hands.
He had just arrived at his locker quite late today, missing the bus due to oversleeping. He shouldn’t have pushed through with playing two more games of Minecraft with his friends last night.
His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. The paper had contained a drawing of him, his outfit from the day before with a smile on his face. At the side of the paper, a note was scribbled down: “Have a great day today! Hope this doodle gives it a good start. :]”
This was a doodle? He had his fingers trace over the dents and scratches made by the pencil lead, lightly enough to avoid smudging the charcoal altogether. The details on it were quite spot on, and the drawing totally did not fit the quota of a “doodle”. It surpassed it, even, with all the effort made into every little stroke.
It belonged to a spot in the gallery, not in his locker.
He flipped the piece around and noted that there was no signature. He huffed after taking a look around the crowded hallway, disappointed that he couldn’t go up to the artist and thank them personally for the piece.
He was too engrossed into the paper that he didn’t even notice an arm swing around his shoulders, dragging him into a hug. “Good morning, Georgie!”
“Sapnap!” George gasped out in surprise, struggling to get out of his hold. “Stop doing that! You’re so annoying.”
Sapnap only laughed at his reaction, scaring George being one of his favorite amusements, before noticing the little page his friend was holding onto. “Woah, George, I didn’t know you drew! That looks so good.”
“That’s the thing, Moron,” George quipped, his attention returning to the item he’s holding onto. “I don’t.”
George decided to get on with fixing his stuff that was needed for the day, passing the note to Sapnap whilst ignoring the look of fake hur . He unzips his bag to place his books inside, “Do you have any idea who could’ve drawn this?”
Sapnap hummed, “No, I don’t think so.”
The older of the two sighed, shrugging the straps of his backpack onto his shoulders. He was about to open his mouth, ask another question or two to the Texan, when the bell had signaled the start of their classes.
Disappointed, George shook his head. “Let’s go. I don’t want to be late to class.”
“Ditto that. I need to copy Karl’s homework, too.”
“And so, with this part of the code, we will be able to…”
The lecture went on and on, but Dream couldn’t really be bothered. He had his chin propped up on his left hand, glancing at the Professor, the item of his interest, and his desk. His right hand was wielding his trusty mechanical pencil, lead dancing across the paper and leaving behind precise strokes of charcoal.
He glances up once more, his crush seated in the very front seat. He had a cute outfit today: A white collared shirt with an oversized navy blue sweater. His hair seemed quite disheveled today. Maybe he happened to oversleep today? The blonde huffed out a quiet breath as his eyes squinted slightly in interest.
How would it feel to run a hand through his hair? He’d thought. Would it be really soft to touch?
He puts down that train of thought, and instead opting to pour out all of his observations onto the illustration he was working on. The way his hair slightly curls at the ends, the constellation of moles on his nape, how his hands might fit all snug into his…
He risks another glance at George. His timing was off and (probably) his luck had run out for that moment, because the British male had turned around to look at the back of the class. Their gazes met for a split second before Dream had immediately ducked his head down with a quiet curse.
His heart was beating against his chest. He hoped he wasn’t caught staring. (He was.)
When he raised his head a while later, he spotted Punz snickering at him as he was seated right next to George. Dream tried to deliver the angriest glare he could ever muster before rolling his eyes and returning his attention to the paper he was working on.
He adds a few strokes here and there; some to sharpen the jawline, a few to soften the chin. He leans back for a bit to think of what else to add more. Maybe a bit more shading will bring his features out more? Maybe he should use colored pencils this time—
“Alright,” The Professor’s voiced boomed out all of a sudden. It took Dream a lot of his energy to not visibly flinch as he was abruptly brought out of his tiny reverie. “For this project, you’ll have to be in pairs. Simply input today’s lecture into a program of your choice and present it to the class by next week.”
Pairs, huh?
He looks to Punz, who had this dumb, mischievous look on his face. Dream immediately knew that he was up to something.
Punz mouthed, “I’ll get him to partner with you.”
Dream’s eyebrows furrowed before shaking his head sideways.
“Don’t.”
“I’m gonna do it.”
Rolling his eyes yet again, Dream leaned forward onto his table. “Punz, no.”
“Don’t be a pussy.” Punz mouthed back before tapping George on the shoulder. The blonde watched as they exchanged a few words before his friend pointed at him and his crush turned to look at his way.
Dream didn’t even bother to wait until their eyes met again and instead dropped his head onto his arms. As much as he’d thank Punz for being a “good” wingman, he wasn’t ready to properly talk to his crush just yet.
His inner turmoil was cut off short when he felt two pokes on his shoulder. Dread filled the pits of his stomach when he looked up to see George.
“Hi, you must be Dream.” George smiled at him, his British accent flowing through his words. Dimples could be seen if Dream squinted slightly. “Punz told me that you love to code a lot. I see that you’re currently partner-less, so, maybe we could…?”
Dream could honestly listen to George talk for hours. His voice sounded so cute and he felt as if Cupid himself had stabbed his heart with another arrow (the first being the time they had bumped into each other for the first time last year). When he blinked and glanced at Punz, who had facepalmed for some reason, he realized that he hadn’t responded to the male in front of him and decided to just stare at him, which was TOTALLY not creepy.
Please note the sarcasm.
“Oh- Oh!” He stuttered. It was visible as to how hard he was trying to fight the flush that was forming on his face. Dream cringed at how idiotic he probably seemed. “Yeah— I mean, sure! Yeah, let’s do that.”
George gave him another smile and sat in the now empty seat next to him as everyone had begun to scramble around to look for a partner of their own. “So, what do you think we should do for this project?”
Dream fiddled with his hands, his mechanical pencil left on his desk with his paper turned down. He didn’t want to do a very simple project since he knows he can do better for this one. He didn’t want to try something too difficult, either.
With a hum, he settled on something he decided was a middle ground for his thoughts. “I’m sure you’ve played Minecraft before, yeah? We could make a plug-in that could include the lesson.”
“Oh, cool!” the brunet seemed to perk at this, his hands clapping together in glee and his eyes having an excited glint. “Yeah, I’m down for that!”
Dream wasn’t sure if he could imprint all these new sides of George he’s been seeing so far within seconds.
“Alright, cool. Let’s start on it at my house, tomorrow?”
There was another drawing of him.
It had him in his dark blue hoodie, a pair of burgundy pants, his hands on his satchel and his pair of color correction glasses sitting on top of his head. He seemed to be looking away, his attention caught by something. On the top right of the page, there were scribbles of his past outfits, the one encircled many times being the hoodie combination.
He glances at the note, “Your outfit looked cute! :]”
George was starting to note that the smile was the person’s signature. If he had squinted, he could see that the artist had even put in the effort to put in his moles and the slightest of his freckles that splayed across his face.
The British male checked the time. It was just about to be lunch.
He was heading over to the cafeteria when he overheard some noises coming from across the courtyard. George turned his head around and raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement and fascination; the Arts club members were working on a new mural painting.
And Dream was there.
The blonde was giving orders to his other club members, from telling them to gather which colors they needed for the painting to directions on how much paint is needed to obtain a certain shade. He was seated on top of the ladder as he seemed to be the one who had the passing draft and was in charge of the sketch.
George wouldn’t be staring at him right now, but there was just something different today. Dream was wearing only a black shirt, his blue jacket tied around his waist.
The brunet was used to his usual red flannel and white undershirt outfits, his combination of a green hoodie and beige pants as it was normally cold in the classroom. Now, his frame looks broader than what he had in mind. His eyes picked up on the way his muscles tensed up as he balanced himself on the ladder whilst drawing figures with his dominant hand.
His gaze traced over the slightest bumps of his veins that were visible in the sunlight.
“What’re you looking at?”
George jumped, a blush visible across his face. “Sapnap!”
The younger male defensively raised both of his arms up, “What? I wasn’t meaning to scare you this time!”
George only punched his shoulder (lightly) in retaliation. “Fucking say something next time.”
“But I did!”
The older male only huffed and rolled his eyes as a response.
Sapnap squinted his eyes in confusion and decided to peer over his friend’s shoulder. He took note of the group of people he managed to recognize.
“Oh,” Sapnap noted. “You know Dream?”
George nodded, “He’s my partner in coding. Also plays Minecraft.”
Sapnap hums in amusement, “Interesting. Should we invite him to our games?”
“You’re the one who sits with him at lunch every day,” George scoffed as he crossed his arms. “Why bother asking me?”
The Texan shrugged.
Shortly after, he states as he takes another glance at the members occupying the courtyard, “This had been the 18th drawing given to me. No breaks, there’s always one either before my first class or right after third or fourth period.”
Sapnap whistled, “Wow, someone’s absolutely head over heels for Gogy-wogy. I wish you good luck with that, pretty boy.”
Before George could even get a chance to react at his comment, they were both enveloped into a tight hug by a person who had been yelling in the corridors, “’ELLO BROS!”
At the same time, George and Sapnap let out an exaggerated sigh and a greeting afterward. “Hi, Quackity.”
“How’s everyone doing today? Oh, George, can I copy your Maths homework after lunch? Mr. Reese will have my head if I don’t pass this one!” The Mexican grinned before he gazed down at the paper in his hands. “Ooh, George, what’s that you got there?”
George shows him the illustration, “Someone’s been giving me drawings every single school day. Do you happen to know anyone that could draw like this?”
“Of course, I do!” Quackity cheekily replied after taking a closer look at the paper. “That’s my work!”
For a moment, George’s heart flatlined at his words, but managed to regain his composure and stared at him blankly.
“Sure, as if you didn’t just ask what I got in my hands.”
Sapnap chided in before the Mexican could reply, “And, Quackity, the only drawings you are capable of doing are stickmen punching each other.”
“They are called dynamic scenes!” Quackity barked back.
“Yeah, at the corner of the pages in your Literature notebook. And that is what always gets you into trouble because you don’t take any notes in any of Mrs. Grooves’ classes.” Sapnap rolled his eyes before shifting their positions, his hands now on both of Quackity’s shoulders to drag him off to the cafeteria. “We’ll see you later, George.”
The British male nodded, waving his hand at them as they walked down the hallway. He took another glance at the area the Arts club were occupying.
Dream was now the one stabilizing the ladder as an underclassman was painting the top of the wall. He was pointing out the areas she was missing, his voice booming out as he was calling out to her. It seemed as if George staring at him was an act of summoning the blonde since he turned around to meet eyes with him.
With a goofy smile, he waved at him with a paint-covered arm.
It was a cute sight, George admitted internally, with how Dream seemed to light up the moment his eyes laid on him. He hesitantly waved back a split second before the blonde had retuned his attention to his club members.
He’s charming.
George covered the bottom half of his face with his hand, attempting to hide his blush before running off to eat lunch.
Exhausted groans echoed throughout the dark room.
The partners were currently located at George’s house, working on their project. Due to being bombarded with projects from their other subjects, they had decided to go to each other’s house every other day.
For the nth time that day, they’ve ran into another error in the code. They’ve gotten countless of errors in that day alone. It was so much to the point where they both lost count and the afternoon had turned into night. The moment they fixed one part of the code, there would be other faults that popped up after they try to run it.
George groans from across the room, falling back onto the office chair which causes him to roll away. “We’re never gonna get this thing done in time.”
Dream was analyzing both of their notes, checking to see if any of their writings had spelling mistakes in them. “There must be a way. We got the starting part of the code correct, it’s just the middle and the end parts that need to be fiddled with.”
Confusion was etched into George’s face before he stood up and walked back to where Dream was. The taller blonde looked down to him at his side, his face flushing at how close they were. He studies the way his eyebrows furrow, his nose crunching up as he puts himself in a focused mode. The way his tongue sticks out as he’s trying to form a solution in his mind.
The way his entire face lights up, stars illuminating his eyes as he lets out a loud gasp before turning towards the younger male.
“I found the error! It was in this portion of the beginning code, not the other two! It’s invalidating everything else other than that section!”
Dream attempted to blink away the hearts in his eyes, trying to settle into the fact that they’ve found a new answer. He had to concentrate. “Wait, what? Where?” Project first, feelings later.
“Here!” George pointed out the first error written by the blonde, and then on his own notebook. It was as if he was suddenly dunked by a ton of energy drinks because he started bounding over to his pc and hurriedly typed down numerous numbers, symbols, and letters needed.
Dream leaned forward from behind him, peering at the monitor. “Over here,” He murmured, his gentle tone booming into George’s right ear as he pointed at one part of the code. “You have to change this too if you’re gonna input that code, since it will cancel all that.”
He notices how George’s fingers stiffened, how he hesitated to move for a split second, before nodding and clearing out the portion that was pointed out. The blonde’s interest was piqued at this reaction as he continued to watch him.
Once they think everything else is clear, they clicked on the button to run the code.
It shows that the program is able to run it smoothly.
“YES!”
They both exclaimed at the top of their lungs, their hard work paying off. The two boys, out of sheer joy and excitement, had pulled each other into an embrace. They both laughed as they managed to accomplish their coding project before the week even ended which means they now have a lot of free time.
As they pulled away, brown eyes met a pair of green. Dream was suddenly pulled down from his high and immediately extremely aware of how close their faces were. If he were to just lean in a bit closer, he’d be able to close the gap between them.
But he doesn’t, of course, and settled on pulling away completely. Bashfully, he opens his mouth, “Sorry, got carried away there.”
“No, no!” George waved off, “Even I did. It’s all good.”
They exchanged a short round of awkward laughter before the brunet sat on his bed. He glanced over at the backpack that had belonged to his coding partner and took notice of a sketchbook.
“So, you draw?”
Dream tensed up. “Huh?”
Does he know? He thought inwardly, his heart racing as panic settled into his skin. This wasn’t a turn he was expecting. Did someone tell him that I was the one responsible for those notes in his locker? I’m sure Sapnap hadn’t told him, and for sure I’d strangle Skeppy if he even uttered a single word about this—
“Your sketchbook.” He points out, “My sister has an identical one, so I just figured. I also saw you working on a new mural with the Arts club a few days back.”
Oh. “Oh.” He repeated out loud. It was as if his brain was lagging. “Yeah, I do. I mean, it’s just a hobby. I’m not particularly great at it.”
George hummed. “I’d like to be the judge of that. You think you can show me your pieces?”
Dream flushed. He wasn’t exactly prepared for him to show off his drawing skills to his crush of all people, but he guessed that it wouldn’t hurt. He walked over to his bag and pulled out his sketchbook.
“I’d suggest for you to skip the first few pages,” He says as he lends it to the brunet, scratching the back of his head nervously and sat next to him, “The doodles there are kinda horrid.”
George scoffs, “Seeing what you’ve started on the wall back at the campus, I highly doubt it would look ‘horrid’.” He playfully mocks the tone and pronunciation the blond had used and paired it with the roll of his eyes as he opened the book to the first page.
At first, Dream was too uneasy to look at his reactions to his sketches, so he ended up looking around the room from the white ceiling to the floor covered by dark blue carpets. After a few minutes, though, he took the courage to look back at the male beside him.
The brunet’s eyes practically had stars in them, his mouth agape in awe as he studied the figures created by his hands. At some points, he’d even trace it lightly with his own fingers, mindful enough to not smudge the lead. He turns it to the next page, which started to have more colors into it. He studies the different shades, the perspective the blond used, the whole composition of the work.
“Dream, this is—” George blinked rapidly, scanning the next few pages, “This is amazing. Are you pursuing art? Please tell me you are. These drawings are stunning.”
Dream chuckles, “I’d love to, but my parents are against it. Something about wanting me to take on something more ‘needed’.”
“I’ll help you look for colleges!” The brunet looked at him, a determined look on his face. “I can help you talk to your parents about this! Dream, you have so much passion for arts. If no one can see it, then they’re probably blind. You’re practically made for this.”
Dream is aware that he was good at drawing. He is aware of where his skills stand, but this was the first time someone important to him had vouched for him. This was the first time he had heard someone he holds close that thinks highly of his skills and would even want to help them to succeed. The statement alone left him breathless.
With his heart full, Dream replied with a small: “Thank you, George.”
The brunet looked to him. It was as if he had noticed a change in the atmosphere and decided to check up on the blond. He gives him the sweetest smile, and if Dream wasn’t head over heels for him already his heart would’ve been stolen right then and there.
Turning his attention back to the sketchbook, George noticed there’s a familiar bunch of sketches on the corner of one of the pages. “Wait, what’s this—”
The book was slammed shut and taken away from his grasp.
“Dream?!” George gasped as his friend had stood up abruptly, shoving the book back into his backpack.
“Um!” Dream said, his tone high in panic. He couldn’t control his movement and before he knew it, the warm atmosphere turned freezing when he saw that George was about to see the countless drawings he had made of him. It was so stupid, the way he acted on impulse. So, so stupid. “I think I’m getting kinda hungry, actually! Do you have any food downstairs, George?”
George had this distrusting look on his face, one where he’d like to demand the truth out of Dream this instant, and the blond had to use up all his energy to not give in and spout the words of I’m in love with you, that’s why I’m acting so weird around you out of his mouth. Instead, he gives him the best smile he could muster.
He wasn’t amused by this, though. George sighed as he got up from his bed, “I’m sure Mum prepared something for us. Let’s go.”
As he followed the older male, Dream tried to ignore the guilt settling at the bottom of his stomach.
It makes sense now.
George has laid out the countless drawings of him on his table. His Professor for coding was absent that day, and no one in the staff is able to sub for him, so they practically have that whole period to themselves.
He glances at the one he had gotten a few days back, his bedhead showing as he wore a red hoodie at the time with a note saying: “turn that frown upside down cutie! :]”
He recognizes that few scratches of lead that built up his hair. It was the same bunches that were on that forbidden page that caused his friend to unexpectedly retrieve his sketchbook.
Linking the now-finished mural painting, his sketchbook, and the dozens of Georges, he had come to an answer.
Dream is his secret admirer.
For what had become months now, he was quite aware of his growing feelings for the male. He had to stop thinking of it from time to time due to his situation with his secret admirer.
Who happened to be Dream.
He likes Dream.
Dream likes him.
…
Wait.
What.
He folds up all the drawings he was given, neatly of course, as he wouldn’t want to ruin any of the drawing Dream had made for him. His hands were shaky the entire time. His mind was racing through many, many thoughts at an alarming speed. Most of the thoughts were Dream.
Hell, all of them were centered on Dream.
George peers back at the seats behind him once he had properly put away the numerous pages away. His gaze meets his admirer for a second, before Dream had looked down to his paper in an instant. He quickly looks back at him, though, with a shy smile and a flustered wave.
The brunet could feel the blush spreading on both of his cheeks and decided to turn away. He places a hand on where his heart is, the thumping loud in his ears. Who gave you the right to be that cute? Seriously, it isn’t good for my heart.
It seems that this whole situation had taken him long enough, as the bell had suddenly rung to signal that it was time for recess. George jumped in his seat, completely caught off-guard as he looked around to see that everyone had already begun to make their way out of the classroom.
He slings his bag over his shoulder and beelined to the doorway. He didn’t want to speak to Dream. Not yet.
He maneuvered his way through the corridor, looking for a certain duo he’d always have lunch with. George would stop from time to time, going onto his tippy toes to try and peek from above to locate his friends. His attempts were not in vain as he had managed to get a glance of a familiar patch of red hair being covered by a well-known black hood.
He bounded over to the two, “Bad! Skeppy!”
“George!” The two greeted.
Bad was the first to notice that something was off, “Are you okay? You seem sorta flushed right now.”
George gulped and shook his head, “No— I’m feeling perfectly fine. Spectacular, actually. Very amazing.”
“George,” Skeppy spoke, his arms crossed. “We know you get like this when something happened. What’s up?”
George pondered. He wasn’t sure if he should open up to them about this. It wasn’t like they didn’t know that he also liked guys, it was that he just felt iffy. But, also, why the hell is my heart pounding so loudly?
“Skeppy.” Bad nudged his best friend on the side with his elbow, “Don’t say it like that. George, you can take your time. You don’t even have to tell us if you really don’t want to.”
He decided and shook his head, “I’ve just gotten to a sudden realization a while ago in class.”
When he looks at them, he had two pairs of eyes looking right back at him which signaled him to continue talking.
“The person I like,” George fiddled with his hands as he explained, “Likes me back. He’s my secret admirer, the one who’s been giving me drawings.”
Bad gasped and began clapping. “Oh my gosh, George! That’s amazing! You should totally go talk to them.”
“You wouldn’t mind if I skipped lunch with you guys today?” George clutched at his bag’s strap, the nerves taking over and causing him to feel anxious about every little thing.
Skeppy had ruffled his friend’s hair in an attempt to shake off the tense atmosphere before slinging an arm around Bad’s shoulders. “This is an important thing for you, Gogy. Of course, we wouldn’t mind.” He smiled before jerking his head to the side, “Now, go on. Get that guy.”
George smiled, thankful for his friends, before bounding off to the cafeteria.
Dream seated down at his group’s usual spot in the busy cafeteria, setting his tray of food onto the table. He leaned towards Sapnap, “Hey, did anything happen to George?”
The Texan shrugged; his mouth already stuffed full of mashed potatoes. “I ‘unno. Seemed fine wif’ me yesterday.”
Dream sighed. The two were childhood friends, so he was hoping that he’d get something good for today. He was worried about their little interaction in coding class earlier. His ears were tipped red, he seemed really flushed, and he seemed quite adamant on not having any sort of contact with the blond.
Did he do something to hurt him? Dream really hoped he didn’t do anything wrong. He really didn’t want to fuck up the bond they had going on.
“Oh, Georgie!” Sapnap had called out, waving at the aforementioned male. This caused Dream to look up from his tray, his attention now on the brunet bounding over to their table.
Dream’s worries were soothed over, glad to be able to see George’s face again.
Seemingly out of breath, the British male stood next to him. “Dream.”
“Can I talk to you?”
And, just like that, Dream’s worries had skyrocketed once again.
He glanced over to Sapnap, who had simply shrugged. He seemed to be just as confused as he was before standing up from his seat. “Yeah— sure, Of course.”
George simply nodded before walking away. And, naturally, Dream began to follow him.
He followed the older male outside to where the mural he had painted along with the other Arts club members. He smiles proudly at how it turned out, the yellows and oranges standing out brightly to his liking.
George led them underneath a tree near the painted wall. Dream approaches him, seeing that he’s quite in a nervous fit at the moment. “Are you okay, George?”
The brunet looked up at him, forest eyes meeting golden ones. He visibly calmed down a whole lot, but his hands still trembled.
“Hey,” Dream began, “It’s just me. You’re okay.”
“Yeah,” George replied, “Yeah, yes. I’m— I’m calmer now, thank you Dream.”
Dream wanted to pry more, ask why he had dragged him out into the courtyard, but he willed himself to stay patient.
Anything for George.
After a couple of heartbeats, the shorter male began to bring something out from his shoulder bag.
In his hands were a bunch of sketches of George. His sketches of George.
“These.” George, who would usually prefer to not have any eye contact whatsoever, engages it this time as he laid out the drawings he was given. “These were from you, weren’t they?”
It honestly didn’t sound like a question, the only thing opposing that thought was how anxious George seemed. It was as if it was concrete, a fact.
And it was. It is indeed Dream’s works.
Although colorblind, George could see the vivid flush that had spread across the blond’s cheeks.
“Yeah,” Dream brought up a hand to his face in a futile attempt to hide the blush, “Yeah, they were.”
George’s shoulders sagged in relief, “You like me?”
“Since our first class together last year.” And Dream wanted to keep his mouth from spilling his heart out, but his control can only go for so long. “How could I not? George, you’re pretty. You’re smart. You’re amazing and fun to be around. Being able to get to know you more instead of just seeing you from afar like I used to was the greatest opportunity I’ve ever gotten ahold of.”
The brunet flushed at the string of compliments that were directed at him. He decided to be bold and take a few steps towards the blond, taking his hand into his and lacing their fingers together.
“Dream, I love you too.” George admitted, a small smile on his face as he glanced up at his now partner.
Dream’s heart soared at the sight.
He caught himself before acting out of impulse again, reminding himself to respect George’s space and ask first. “Can I hug you, George?”
His voice came out a whisper, but George’s was at the same volume as he stretched out both of his arms, letting go of his hand.
“Of course.”
Dream closed the gap between them, practically scooping up the shorter male and twirling him around. This caused George to squeal loudly and Dream to laugh boisterously. They both settled down a few seconds later as they both tightened their hold on each other.
“I love you, George.” Dream muttered into George’s shoulder, getting a heartfelt chuckle from the older male as he combed through his blond hair.
“I love you too, you dummy.”