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Dream always thought George, the figure skater was infuriatingly posh. The few times Dream had seen the smaller man not ice skating it was with those stupid, white-rimmed sunglasses perched on his forehead to complete a workout outfit that looked a little too nice to be work out clothes in Dream's opinion.
He had a heavy British accent that Dream mocked every chance he got. He was stubborn and always rolled his eyes whenever Dream and his teammates arrived at the ice rink for hockey practice. The way George looked at Dream and his hockey team as if they were trash pissed Dream off.
But damn.
Watching him gliding in thoughtless circles on the ice, still believing he was the only person at the ice rink, was just so captivating. Dream couldn’t take his eyes off the brunette whenever he pulled his limbs closer to his body to regain momentum just as he was about to lose it.
He could almost see George’s thoughts being traced into the ice in pretty little spirals. He looked so peacefully lost in a trance. He looked nothing like the snob Dream thought him to be. Dream was seeing a George without the walls he apparently put up, simply being lost in his own mind on the ice. What was George thinking about? Dream realised in that moment he really didn’t know much about George. What was the brunette’s life like when he wasn’t on the ice?
Dream was frozen in place, too scared to breathe for fear of startling George. He couldn’t take his eyes away from the shorter man.
George suddenly picked up speed and flew along the edges of the rink before taking off and twisting in the air. Dream was barely aware of the faint gasp that left his body. He’d never cared before if George failed a jump like that, in fact, if Dream saw him fail, he probably would’ve laughed. He would’ve found satisfaction in witnessing George’s failure. But now he found himself silently willing George to land the jump.
George’s experience was apparent as his skates returned easily to the ground and carried him backwards. After a moment to enjoy that feeling, the Brit turning himself to skate lazily in a smooth loop to rebuild his momentum.
Wow…
Eventually, Dream let his guard down and forgot about pretending not to exist and when George performed another risky move his gasp was just a little to audible. The Brit swung his head around and his brown eyes widened when he made eye contact with the hockey player.
Dream felt his face burn bright pink as it dawned on him that he’d been caught staring “I’m sorry! I-I just-“
And just like that, George’s walls were back up in an instant. He stopped skating and stood still in the middle of the rink, glaring daggers at Dream with his arms crossed and hip jutted out. “Were you watching me?” He growled.
“Yeah…” Dream admitted. Dipping his head in a lousy attempt to escape the awkwardness of the situation.
“For how long?” George asked. “How long were you just standing there?”
“I… Don’t know… A while?”
George rolled his eyes and shook his head and with an annoyed huff glided to the rink exit opposite Dream in one, swift movement.
Damn…
Dream stood there stunned by the interaction for a second before his brain started to catch up.
He looked kinda mad, should I go apologise? Or at least try to explain myself? I probably should, shouldn’t I? Wait, no would that be weird? Argh! Screw it!
Dream ran around the rink after the Brit. “George, wait!”
George was sitting on a bench next to his bag, drinking from his water bottle. As Dream approached George glared at him and lowered the bottle. “What do you want?”
“I uh… Look, I’m sorry for watching you I just… You looked so- you skate really… wow.”
“I skate really ‘wow’?” George repeated with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah!” Dream found himself laughing. He was expecting George to snap at him, he was bracing for it. But George was just studying him with a confused expression.
“Thanks?”
Huh. Dream thought to himself. That went alright.
Dream smiled and shrugged. “You’re welcome!”
When George didn’t respond, Dream turned to look at the ice. All kinds of spirals were carved into the cold surface. “Wow, the ice looks so cool now!”
George stretched to look over the barrier surrounding the rink. “I guess so.” He agreed.
Dream gaped at him. “Are you serious? George, it looks epic!”
“I’m used to it I guess.” George shrugged, the corner of his lips lifting to form a small grin. And just like earlier when George was skating, Dream couldn’t look away. Was this gonna become a regular thing? Thankfully this time, Dream was able to drag his eyes away. In the silence, he started replaying George’s unintentional performance in his head.
“Dude, when you did that jump thing, that was so cool!” Dream said. “I can’t believe you actually landed that!”
George giggled. “I do that all the time!”
“I mean I’ve never really watched you before, so I wouldn’t know! Like, I knew you were a figure skater, and I knew you were pretty good but what!”
“Would you like me to do it again?” George offered shyly.
“Yeah!” Dream answered eagerly. George snorted and made his way back to the rink. Dream followed after him, despite not having put his skates on yet. He’d been skating since he was a child, he knew how to balance on ice without skates on. He watched from the side as George glided around the ice to gain speed. Dream knew he could keep up with George if he had his skates on, but he wouldn’t look nearly as graceful. George’s speed seemed to come from nowhere. There was no scrambling across the ice to move. It was like he was floating.
George finally sent himself flying into the air, pulling his arms tightly to his chest to ensure the twirl. Before landing and gliding backwards with an extended leg to balance him. Dream gave an overdramatic cheer and saw George smile and roll his eyes before the brunette turned and skated one more lap facing forwards. Once he’d finished his trip, he returned to Dream.
“How long did it take you to learn to do that?” Dream asked.
“A week to maybe to perfect it. I remember there were days where I would just come here and practice that jump over and over and over until I could eventually do it fluently.”
Dream pictured a compilation of George jumping repeditivly to master the skill he had just witnessed. He imagined all the times he would’ve failed to get him to this point. Even in his head it sounded exhausting. “That must’ve sucked.”
“It was worth it though.”
Suddenly there was the bang of the door to the ice rink being thrown open. Dream recognised the laughs of Sapnap and Quackity as they lead the rest of the hockey team in from the hallway.
He looked at George and saw his nose wrinkle in distaste. The brunette’s snobby mask returned as he lifted his chin a little higher and slunk back off the rink, leaving Dream to wait for his friends to join him.
~ ~ ~
George always believed Dream, the ice hockey player to be arrogant, rough and annoying. You would think he craved attention based off the fact that he was rarely ever seen not surrounded by his teammates, who were all loud and obnoxious. His shoes were a disgrace to mankind. He seemed so full of himself, walking around with a smirk like he owned every place he visited. Dream just had to get on George’s nerves whenever he could, and the Brit hated it with a passion.
In a nutshell, George thought Dream was the biggest pain in the ass to have ever set foot on an ice rink.
But the guy talking to him right now, praising his figure skating abilities, didn’t seem rough or arrogant at all. He apologised out of fear that he made George uncomfortable and now seemed genuinely impressed and interested by his skills.
Maybe the hockey player wasn’t as horrible as George originally thought.
He was still very loud, pretty annoying and did seem to crave attention, but at least he wasn’t mean.
George was safely tucked behind the barrier again when the hockey team exploded onto the rink to meet Dream, one of the firsts to greet him was a man who looked to be around George’s height but unlike George’s skinny build, he looked broad, powerful and hard to push over.
This definetly wasn’t the first time George had seen him but he’d never tried to learn any names of the hockey players, so he barely had any clue of who he was.
He only knew Dream’s name because of how many times he’d heard it cheered by his teammates or squealed by girls. Dream’s little fangirls were possibly more annoying than the hockey team. Always crowding up the benches behind the barriers and making so much unnessarsary noise. Arguably their worst trait was the fact that they weren’t aware at all of how much of an inconvenience they were.
George normally rushed out of the building once the hockey team arrived but this time, he couldn’t prevent the glances he snuck over the barrier as he undid the laced on his skates.
Dream’s movements on the ice weren’t elegant and graceful but George had to admit, they were efficient and well-practiced. Something worth taking note of.
He could see some level of experience as he whipped around the rink away from his teammates for a training exercise. It looked like he was leading the puck in an intense dance of some kind as he weaved around player after player before eventually sending his dance partner onto another teammate.
Normally George would cringe whenever the hockey players messed up the ice by skidding to stop or change directions with a shower of ice spraying out. But when Dream did it, he saw it differently. He could appreciate the beauty of the glittering ice-shower and imagine the thrill that would come from being the cause of such a thing.
George had attempted to spray one of his fellow figure skaters once for a joke and never did it again after the scolding he received from his coach. The memory was so corrupted with his teacher’s frustration that he couldn’t recall whether it felt good or not.
A stray puck was sent flying into the part of the barrier closest to George, startling him out of his thoughts. It was that moment when he remembered how much he disliked the noisy nature of the hockey team, slung his bag over his shoulder and left the building with his head held high.