Chapter Text
“So, the first thing that happens, if you aren’t already touching your soulmate at exactly midnight, which is probably the case, because who is so damn lucky—”
“Karl,” Sapnap says, not pausing in where he’s pulling a pair of ripped jeans from the bottom of a pile on his bed.
“Right. Sorry.” Karl’s sorting through his clothes as well, having been the one to insist that Sapnap absolutely cannot go to his 18th birthday party in his usual oversized hoodie and ripped jeans get-up. “So, the first thing that happens is you get light-headed. Because your soulmate is nearby.”
The time on the clock is 6.14pm. They have about fifteen more minutes until he’s officially late for the party his friends insisted on hosting for him. He wasn’t very keen on it—to him, birthday parties are for little kids. He hasn’t had one in ages. But he knows, to them and everyone else coming, this isn’t actually a birthday party.
He wishes their society didn’t place so much focus on soulmates. Especially since most people don’t even find their soulmate within their lifetime.
“Sapnap? Are you even listening to me?”
“Yes,” he says automatically. He holds up the pair of ripped jeans he pulled out—black with way too many rips down the front. “Should I wear this?”
“Oh, yes, that looks good.” Karl roots around his clothes, frowning. “But why do you only have hoodies here, Sapnap? I told you. Hoodies and ripped jeans for a party?”
“Sounds fine to me.” He pulls out a hoodie. One of his newer, rarely worn ones. “Look. This one is good.”
Karl sighs. “Why did I even try?”
He takes that as his cue to be allowed to head into the bathroom and change into the hoodie and ripped jeans. He fishes out a white bandana from his drawer—definitely can’t go to a party without that on—and ties it around his head, pulling his bangs over it.
“Right,” he says when he comes back into his room to find Karl still on his bed, lying down now and scrolling on his phone. “Are we ready for this?”
“More importantly, are you ready for this?” He means it as a serious question, but Sapnap can hear the excitement spilling over.
Karl has already found his soulmate, Quackity, another member of their friend group. George has been dropping subtle hints lately about spending time with a special someone, so Sapnap’s assuming that he’s found his too, although he’s been oddly secretive about it. And the last of their group…
Honestly, Sapnap doesn’t know if they’re even friends anymore.
At that thought, there is a pang in his chest. He stares at Karl lying so comfortably beside his pile of clothes and remembers the days where it was someone else in that same spot, blue eyes crinkled as he laughed at something Sapnap said—
He shakes his head to get rid of the mental image. “I’ll manage.”
It’s as honest an answer as he’s willing to give. Thankfully, Karl doesn’t push it. Sapnap’s dislike for all the soulmate shit isn’t an unfamiliar concept to his friends. But they think he’s just disdainful of it because he hasn’t been old enough to find his own. What they don’t understand is just how much he actually, truly despises it.
Not even Dream—and Sapnap will allow himself to think of Dream for this moment—knows and that’s saying something.
“Cheer up, SappyNappy,” Karl says, hooking an arm around his shoulders and dragging him out of the room. “Today’s a night to have fun!”
As the night progresses, he has to admit that he does have fun. Chatting with friends he hasn’t gotten the chance to catch up with, playing beer pong and the many other games that Karl and Quackity drag him around to, eating good food.
It’s only when he finally finds George, the last member of the boys, that things start to go downhill. Because not only is George a few hours late to his party, he also didn’t come alone.
And the tall, hooded figure behind him is the last person Sapnap wants to see on his eighteenth birthday.
“Sapnap, listen—”
“George,” he says curtly, pointedly ignoring the boy behind him. “A word.”
He literally drags George through the living room crowd and onto the backyard patio, slamming the screen door harder than he should.
“Sapnap—”
“No, George. You had one job. One. Job.”
George crosses his arms. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Yeah. Except for the part where I explicitly told you not to bring him here!”
He is treated to George’s signature eyebrow raise. “What, you can’t even say his name anymore?”
“I told you not to bring Dream here,” Sapnap snaps. “Which part of that did you not understand? Now my party is ruined and it’s all your fault.”
For a long moment, they glare at each other, neither backing down. Then, George must realise that it is Sapnap’s birthday, so he should be treating him at least the tiniest bit better than he usually does, he relents.
“Sapnap…this is stupid. I know you two have been avoiding each other, but you’re still best friends. He really wanted to come for your big day. And I know—and don’t even deny it, Sapnap—that you want him here too.”
It’s suddenly too much to continue holding George’s gaze. Sapnap shifts his glare to the floorboards. He can’t even argue with that.
If he were being honest, he did want Dream to miraculously show up although he swore all his friends to secrecy about this birthday party of his. And if he were being truly honest, some nights he lies awake wondering where it all went wrong and desperately wishing, hoping, praying that Dream will come back to him.
That they will be friends again.
So does he want Dream here? Yes, he absolutely does.
He sighs. But still refuses to acknowledge that George technically didn’t do anything wrong.
“C’mon, Sapnap,” George says after a moment longer of silence. “Let’s go back in. There’re so many people—you can avoid him if you want to.”
He glares, but it is half-hearted this time.
George smiles. “And, you know, the whole soulmate thing. Karl and Quackity are really excited for you, but I know you aren’t big on it.”
Sapnap shakes his head. He’s just grateful his friends care enough about him to throw him such a big party. “It’s fine, George. I’ll be fine.”
George regards him for a moment, head tilted. Then, he says, “If it matters so much to you, just don’t touch anyone after midnight. If you feel light-headed, just get out of there. We’ll help you send everyone home.”
The light-headed part he knows. Karl told him about it just moments earlier. But don’t touch anyone? What does that mean?
The confusion must show on his face, because George sighs and says, “Did you not listen to anything Karl said? I’m pretty sure he would’ve told you this.”
Right. Karl was saying a bunch of stuff earlier…
George flicks his forehead as he smiles sheepishly. “That’s how soulmates identify each other. By touch. Once you turn eighteen and you touch the person who’s meant to be your soulmate, then viola. Soulmates for life.”
He nods, absorbing this new piece of information. It sounds easy enough. If he starts feeling light-headed past midnight, get the hell out of the living room and barricade himself in his room. No one even needs to know.
“And I haven’t properly wished you in person yet! Happy birthday, Sapnap.”
“Thanks, George.” He braces himself as he places his hand on the screen door handle. I can do this.
And he is able to do it. Despite feeling the eyes watching his every move. Tracking his movement through the crowd. Taking note of who he talks to. He tries hard to ignore it. He busies himself talking to Karl and Quackity. To George.
A few hours pass like that. Pointedly ignoring the one boy in the room who he hasn’t spoken to in months. Pretending to have the time of his life with everyone else.
At some point, the world starts to spin whenever he turns too fast. The floor gets shakier beneath his feet. He feels light-headed and he thinks it might be the too many beers he’s drunk. Or the sheer number of people crammed into his living room. He should probably start shooing them out soon so he can work on cleaning up. Or so that he has some room to actually breathe.
He chances a glance at the wall clock—12.03am. It’s officially his birthday.
No wonder people were wishing him happy birthday again. He laughs as he thanks yet another friend and allows himself to be dragged to another circle of games. Karl passes him on the way, looking far too excited even after a few hours of partying.
A random thought comes back to Sapnap. Something Karl told him just hours earlier. The first thing that happens is you get light-headed. Because your soulmate is nearby.
He stops short in the middle of the crowded living room. Tugging his hand out from his friend’s grip. Because this—it’s just a coincidence. It just has to be a coincidence. Right? Right?
“Sapnap?” George appears before him. Behind the tint of his glasses, Sapnap makes out the concern in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Just a coincidence, he tells himself, opening his mouth to respond. It’s just a coincidence.
But he feels eyes on him again, that feeling of being watched that he has grown accustomed to over the span of his birthday party. The dizziness returns in an overwhelming rush. He turns quickly, needing space, needing to get out of here.
Because his soulmate is nearby and he cannot, must not, find them.
He’s rushing so fast, he trips over someone’s foot. Or some piece of furniture. He tips forward, giddy, flailing, and crashes right into something. Rather, someone. Hands grip his arms and pull him upright. He’s so dizzy, his stomach churns. Any second now, he’ll spill his guts out on whichever kind soul has stopped his fall.
He makes out a faded green hoodie. Through the haze of his giddiness, he vaguely registers who it is. Oh my god.
He looks up into a familiar face. And though his mind is screaming at him to get away, though he should be too dizzy to be forming any coherent thoughts, he knows without a doubt what is going to happen next. Can already feel the connection sizzling between them. The tug in his chest towards the boy holding him up.
No. No.
Their bare skins brush. Dream’s eyes widen.
And that is all Sapnap remembers before his world dissolves into a blinding white flash.
===
Sapnap wakes up to his plain old ceiling fan and a muted pounding in his head. His throat feels dry. His skin flushed. He spies water on his bedside table, so he pushes himself up, groaning as he does so. God. What happened?
He gulps the water down. Pieces are returning to him. Karl telling him about soulmates. The party. The giddiness. Then, the—
He gasps as he realises. No. It can’t be. Quickly, he tugs up his sleeve, where he knows the soulmate mark will be. If that was really what happened last night. He’s praying it was some sort of mistake. A freak coincidence. A trick of his mind.
But the bold black lines on the inside of his wrist are a blaring indication that it did happen.
Sapnap, who hates the concept of soulmates with a fervour, has found his very own one.
As he stares at the lines on his wrist until his vision begins to blur, eyes burning as he wonders what the hell he does now, he feels a tug in his chest. He follows the direction of it, looking to the floor beside his bed, to where a blanket has been lain down, to where Dream is, lying on the floor of his bedroom like it hasn’t been months since they’ve said a single word to each other.
Maybe Dream can sense him staring, because before Sapnap can demand why the hell Dream is in his house, in his bedroom, their eyes meet.
“Sap—”
“You—”
They both stop, staring at each other as Dream sits up quickly.
“What the hell,” Sapnap says. “Are you doing in my room?”
Sapnap can’t identify the expression on Dream’s face. It’s not the same confusion or blossoming anger that Sapnap’s feeling. Or the disgust inside him at having found his soulmate, who is—who must be—
“Do you remember what happened?” Dream asks and his voice is so much more gentle than Sapnap deserves, especially after what happened between them. After everything.
“The—the party,” Sapnap manages to say, holding his wrist tight. He doesn’t want to see the marks. Maybe if he doesn’t look at them long enough, they’ll fade completely and he won’t have to worry about them ever again. “Midnight. I was light-headed. Then, I stumbled into you and…”
There is a long silence. The tears in Sapnap’s eyes threaten to spill. He can’t believe this is happening to him. For so many years, he’s sworn off soulmates. He’s listened to his mother’s cries and his sister’s quiet sobbing in the bathroom. He’s watched his family get torn apart. He’s hated soulmates with such a deep fervour that every time someone so much as says the word, he feels the rage bubble up within him like an inferno.
He wants so badly to be wrong. To have Dream shake his head, stand up and just leave him. The way he left Dream all those months ago.
Except, Dream doesn’t leave. He pulls up his sleeve as well. And the marks on Dream’s wrist, an exact replica of Sapnap’s, confirms his darkest fears.
“I’m sorry, Sapnap,” Dream says quietly. “But we’re soulmates.”
===
Soulmates are supposed to be a good thing. The best thing to ever happen to someone, as quoted from one Karl Jacobs. They’re one half of your two-person whole, the only person in the world who knows you inside and out, who understands you without you needing to say a thing and who will stay by your side despite anything and everything.
Some even believe that soulmates are able to feel each other’s emotions, especially so during the first two weeks of bonding. Well, Karl and Quackity confirmed it, so it’s probably a fact, not a belief. (They talk way too much about soulmate shit when they know that Sapnap doesn’t like it. It’s as if they think they can change his view just by the sheer amount of time they spend talking about it.) As such, it’s said that a soulmate always knows when the other is in danger, even if they’re in whole different countries.
While this is all good and perfect, it’s also a fact that not everyone has the chance to meet their soulmate. In fact, most don’t. The world has a population of 7 billion. Statistically speaking, it’s almost impossible to find that one person who is your other half.
All in all, it seems that Sapnap should feel blessedly happy and lucky to have found his soulmate. Especially with his being Dream, which is honestly the best thing that’s—no, he’s not going to think of it that way. He’ll never think of it that way.
Soulmates are cool, yes. They’re fantastic and amazing and they make you feel oh, so in love. (As said by Karl.) They’re the best things to ever have been created in the history of human life.
But they are also not.
Because being soulmates doesn’t magically mean that you never quarrel or develop bad feelings. It doesn’t mean that you don’t need to work on your relationship because the bond naturally develops and fixes everything. It doesn’t mean you’re safe from heartbreak or pain.
It doesn’t mean any of those things at all. From what Sapnap knows, it often means the exact opposite. For any other relationship, if things sour and go bad, there’s always the option of walking away. Of ending things. A soulmate’s bond, though, ensures that you can never truly be free from your other half, even if they hurt you.
If he closes his eyes, he can still hear the screaming. The crying. Can still see the blood flecked on the floor like paint, spilling down pale skin. Can still feel his sister’s arms tight around him, her body shaking with sobs, her—
It takes extra effort to push the thoughts out of his head today.
He focuses back on the problem at hand. The one a small, sick part of him has dearly yearned for and a bigger, louder part of him has abhorred.
He and Dream are soulmates.
And if there’s one thing he knows about soulmates, it’s that a wildfire kept caged will eventually break free and devour everything.
===
Eventually, Sapnap has to leave his room and brave the rest of his house. His Mom and sister won’t be returning for another week, busy holidaying somewhere else in the world and completely oblivious to his current predicament, so there is nothing to act as a buffer between him and the tall, blue-eyed boy staring unabashedly at him as he enters the living room.
He ignores Dream as best as he can, ignoring the ache in his chest that intensifies at Dream’s sudden nearness. Dream must feel it too, but he doesn’t make a sound, not even when Sapnap escapes into the kitchen.
To find that Dream has made breakfast for him. Bacon and scrambled eggs, with a cup of hot chocolate at the side. Also an extra glass of water and an Advil for his still mutedly pounding head. Trust Dream to know that, since they’re…soulmates now. And the breakfast is still warm, like he could sense when Sapnap would be getting over the worst of his horror and coming downstairs.
Sapnap has half a mind to just throw the whole thing down the bin. But—but he’ll never do that to Dream, even as estranged as they are now and as frayed as the ropes between them are. He’s also been raised never to waste a drop of food, so he sits himself down at the table and makes himself eat.
He tries to push the whole soulmate thing out of his mind. For a few minutes, it works. The food is good and he finds himself enjoying it. He’s missed Dream’s cooking for all these months. But then, he’s done and the plate is washed and drying on the rack.
He considers his options. Lock himself in his room forever—not plausible. Talk to his friends about this—also not so plausible. Karl and Quackity won’t understand. They’re too in love with the concept of soulmates to even grasp the beginnings of his hate. Talk to George? Now that might work. George knows a little more than the rest, just because of that one time the news was reporting some horrible crime involving soulmates and Sapnap had remembered and—
Well. Let’s just say that wasn’t a good day.
The point is that George understands a little more than the rest and would likely be able to offer the best advice. But…it feels wrong thinking about asking George for advice when Dream is just there, in the other room, probably waiting nervously for Sapnap to finish his breakfast and talk to him.
He wonders if Dream has asked George anything about this whole situation.
He sighs deeply. There seems to be only one thing he can do.
When he shuffles into the living room, Dream is sitting up attentively on the couch, not bothering to hide how much he’s staring. The ache in Sapnap’s chest worsens as he moves nearer to Dream and he’s close enough to see the way Dream’s fists are clenched so tightly that his knuckles are white.
He sits. For a few minutes, there is silence. Sapnap doesn’t know what the hell he’s going to say. ‘Okay, we’re soulmates and I hate that’ doesn’t seem like the best way to start this conversation.
“Okay,” Dream says and Sapnap is grateful that he’s speaking first. “So we’re soulmates and you hate that.”
Wow. So Dream’s really just getting right into it. And how does he even know that? Can soulmates read each other’s minds? He stares hard at Dream. He can’t seem to read Dream’s mind, though.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Dream’s keeping his voice level, but there’s an undercurrent of emotion beneath that’s threatening to break through. Is it anger? Frustration? Sapnap can’t tell. “You don’t really keep it a secret. Not to mention that the moment you found out we were soulmates, you threw up, then passed out.”
Sapnap winces. Did he do that? Did he throw up on Dream? He doesn’t even remember it.
“I—I’m sorry,” he apologises weakly, twisting his hands nervously in his lap as he tries to find something else to say that will bolster his apology.
He finds nothing.
And maybe Dream takes pity on him for that, because his voice is considerably softer as he says, “Sapnap…you don’t have to be sorry. I just…I know you’re not okay with this. Especially after…” It’s Dream’s turn to wince.
It’s been a few months since Dream asked Sapnap out. A few months since Sapnap rejected him, then proceeded to ignore him until Dream got the message and stayed away as well.
Sapnap still feels horrible about it. Still loses too much sleep over it and spends too much time in school hallways struggling to catch a glimpse of Dream. Still ponders over how to apologise and grovel for forgiveness. Now that he has the chance to, now that they’re finally talking after so many months, not a single word of apology he planned gets past the bile stuck in his throat.
It doesn’t help that they’re soulmates. That he can feel Dream’s hurt piercing into his own heart like daggers. Damn it. He really messed up.
“I never—” He tries, mouth dry. He has to swallow, wet his cracked lips and try again. “I mean, I—”
“Don’t,” Dream says tightly. He’s looking pointedly away. “Just—let’s just deal with this. With being soulmates. We’re going to have to spend the next two weeks together because of the bond.”
This he knows. When Karl and Quackity first became soulmates, he barely saw either of them for a few weeks.
“And I know you hate that, but for both of our benefits, could I…” Dream hesitates. “Could I, like…stay? Here?”
When Sapnap doesn’t respond for a moment, Dream continues with, “I mean, if you really hate it, then I could leave. I don’t know how bad it’ll be, but I heard it can be done. I think it’ll be terrible for like one or two days, then the bond might actually b—break and fade away. And if it doesn’t, I’m sure we can just continue ignoring each other and it’ll—” Dream’s voice breaks. Sapnap stares at him, shocked.
Dream is—
Dream is crying.
“And it’ll just be like the past few months,” Dream manages to choke out through his tears. “We don’t have to be goddamn soulmates if you don’t want to be, alright? If you hate it so much, we can just leave each other and never look back. If we—”
“Dream.” He doesn’t recall moving, but suddenly he is right beside Dream on the couch, their bodies pressed so close that he can feel the heat of Dream’s skin against his own. A warning light in his head blares, warning him away from this, away from the inevitable pull of Dream and the soulmate bond, but god, his heart is splintering from the pure grief and pain rolling off Dream.
Without thinking, he pulls Dream into a hug. And for those few seconds, he doesn’t care if it’s the soulmate bond that’s making him like this. That’s making him want to tie himself down to Dream, to do anything to cheer him up. All he cares about is that Dream is upset because of him and he has to find some way to make him smile again. To reverse the past few months of accumulated sorrows.
“No, Dream,” he says and finds that he means it. “I don’t want you to leave.”
It’s months too late. Dream should have left him a long time ago—when he confessed and Sapnap left him hanging.
But Dream has always been too damn kind for his own good.
“That’s—” Dream’s voice cracks again, but it sounds stronger as he returns the hug and buries his face into Sapnap’s shoulder. “That’s good, Sapnap. That’s—thank you. Thank you so much.”
It doesn’t feel right that Dream is thanking him. It makes him uneasy, but he says nothing. He’s just glad that Dream has stopped crying.
Soulmates. They’re soulmates.
And Sapnap is doomed. Because while he hates soulmates and everything they stand for, an extremely tiny part of him that he has to silence on a daily basis knew that if he turned eighteen and didn’t turn out to be Dream’s soulmate, it would kill him. Instantly. But if he did become Dream’s soulmate, then—
It’ll be death all the same. A slower one, but still—death.
Even then, he allows himself this short moment in Dream’s arms. He wonders what the hell he has gotten himself into. Soulmates. A thing he has sworn off for the entirety of his short eighteen years of life. A thing that has been ingrained into him as horrible, terrible, does nothing but rip you to shreds and—
“We’re soulmates,” he says softly and the bitter taste in his mouth lingers, even with how warm he feels in Dream’s arms.
===
Later that day, Dream’s Mom comes by to drop off his stuff. Sapnap knows how happy she’ll be for Dream and he isn’t in the mood to pretend to be exhilarated, so he hides in his room. It’s selfish of him and it makes his chest hurt with Dream’s unhappiness, but it’s better than being down there, faking happiness and probably hurting Dream even more.
Instead, he busies himself with his phone and sees that he’s gotten a message from George.
are you good?
He hesitates, fingers hovering over the keyboard. He can lie and say yes, but George has always had an eerily accurate intuition of knowing when something is off, even over text. And if he says he’s good, then George might just assume that he and Dream have resolved their issues and it’s safe for him, Karl and Quackity to crash the house and celebrate.
So, he sends what he’s honestly feeling.
i don’t know.
The next second, his phone screen lights up with a call. He checks to make sure Dream is still downstairs with his Mom, then picks up.
“Sapnap,” George says without preamble. “You have to talk to him.”
That much is obvious, but he doesn’t want to, even though he badly needs to.
“But George—”
“No. I don’t want to hear it. You have to talk to him. That’s literally all you need to do.” Whenever George gets stern like this, it always reminds Sapnap of just how much older he is and how much more he has experienced.
George is right—he knows. He’s been telling himself this for the past few months. It’s just every time he opens his mouth to try saying the words, they leave him.
“I—”
“You ignored him for months,” George reminds him sharply. “You distanced yourself and turned away every time he tried to seek you out and now he still wants to be your soulmate. Don’t you think he at least deserves an explanation?”
“Well…yeah. He does.”
“Good!” George must have been able to hear how miserable he sounded, because he softens his voice as he says, “Look, Sapnap, I know this is hard for you for reasons that you have always refused to share. But maybe you could start by talking about why the hell you treated him that way for the past few months. Then, things might just follow from there.”
A noise from downstairs snags his attention. Dream’s Mom has left. Which means Dream might be hauling his stuff up here any moment now.
“Look, George, I have to go.”
“Wait—Sapnap. Promise me you’ll talk to him.”
I don’t have to promise you anything, Sapnap wants to say, but that just makes him feel childish. George does want to help. And George is right, he reminds himself. He has to talk to Dream. It’s the only way they’ll survive the next two weeks.
“Okay, I promise.”
Once George hangs up, he returns to the living room in too much of a rush and is too muddle-headed to come up with an excuse for what he was doing. Not that Dream needs one to know exactly what Sapnap was doing.
Dream’s Mom didn’t bring much. Just a bag full of clothes, some food, Dream’s laptop and his computer. Sapnap offers to help him move his stuff and is relieved when Dream lets him. Until they’re standing on the second floor landing, staring at the open room doors.
“You can put your things in the guest room,” Sapnap says, already moving towards it. He stops when he realises Dream hasn’t followed him.
“Does this…does this mean I’ll be sleeping there too?” Dream shifts uncomfortably. “Not that I mind, of course. Just checking.”
Right. Sapnap didn’t think about that at all. Would the distance…affect the soulmate bond? He doesn’t have the slightest clue. But Dream’s already moving past him, leaving his own question unanswered. By the time they finish moving Dream’s stuff up, Dream claims that he wants some time to settle in, so Sapnap leaves him alone.
They spend the rest of the day in relative peace. They don’t talk much, but they make sure to stay in the same room most of the time to minimise the ache that the bond exerts on each of them.
Sapnap feels Dream’s gaze on him many times. He knows Dream has questions. He has questions for himself too, goddamn it. But he isn’t ready to answer them. So, he keeps his headphones on and always finds something to do that makes him look really busy, although most of the time, his thoughts just keep circling around Dream and soulmates and what the hell should I do, I’m so freaking screwed.
Yet, it does make him secretly happy to have Dream in his house again. It’s been too long since they’ve talked or hung out or even just shared the same space. And while the past few hours can hardly be counted as hanging out, Sapnap’s just glad that Dream doesn’t hate him for the rejection and then the ignorance of the past few months.
That being said, he knows he owes Dream an apology for that. And an explanation, as he promised George. The problem is how much he can say without having to delve into the whole complicated mess behind why he hates soulmates. That’s just something he wants to continue avoiding for now. Or as long as he can.
Which is probably not very long at all. If, by the end of this week, Dream is still in his house and they are still soulmates, his Mom will…
He doesn’t even know what his Mom will do when she finds out. Kick Dream out, probably. Then maybe him too if he refuses to listen to her.
She has distanced herself from every single friend and family who believes in soulmates, which is nearly everyone. He wants to believe that she won’t do that to him since he’s her son, but he honestly doesn’t know. People do crazy things when they’re angry. Or upset. Or scared.
And he doesn’t want to know what state his Mom will be in when she eventually finds out about him and Dream.
===
“Thanks,” Dream says as he sits down at the table before the plate of slightly burnt steak.
Sapnap tried his best. That’s all he can say.
They eat in utter silence, nothing but the sounds of knives and forks scraping ceramic filling the quiet kitchen. He finishes before Dream and escapes into the living room, checking his phone for lack of anything better to do.
He’s met with a message from George once again.
because i know you, sapnap, i’m sure you haven’t spoken to him yet.
so here is your reminder.
TALK TO HIM.
NOW.
He lets out a long-suffering sigh. Trust George to be so adamant on this. Which is a good thing, he supposes. He doesn’t have enough guts to do this all on his own.
“What’s wrong?” Dream asks, emerging from the kitchen. He must have sensed something was wrong through the bond.
And Sapnap glances at the messages lighting up his phone screen. He draws courage from it. He blurts out, “We need to talk.”
Dream blinks, surprised. He recovers before Sapnap can retract the words and make another hasty retreat. “That’s good. Because I was about to tell you the same thing.”
So, that’s how they end up just like this morning, seated on opposite couches, both looking anywhere but each other, slowly gathering the words to say. Sapnap fiddles with his phone, debating between apologising first or letting Dream speak first.
In the end, the decision is made for him.
“So…I know you hate soulmates,” Dream starts off hesitantly.
Again with the him hating soulmates thing. Okay, he gets that it’s a pretty big issue right now, but he doesn’t need constant daily reminders about something he has known his entire life.
“And I wanted to ask if…if that’s because you also hate me. Like, you hate that we’re soulmates and you wished it was someone else. Because if that’s the case, then it’s still not too late to—”
Suddenly, the prospect of Dream leaving hurts.
It’s the soulmate bond, he tells himself. It’s the bond making him feel like he can’t live without Dream.
But it’s also not, says a deeper, hidden part of him. The one that willingly made that promise to George. The one that is secretly pleased with how everything has turned out. The one he has to squash down and silence with extra vehemence today.
“Don’t leave,” Sapnap cuts Dream off. “Please.”
Dream looks slightly confused. “Well…there’s something called platonic soulmates. They’re even more rare than romantic ones, but they exist. And if that’s what you want, I’m willing to try—”
“No.” He says it firmly, without an ounce of hesitation. He doesn’t care what platonic soulmates are—he’s never heard of them before and doesn’t think he’ll ever bother to learn about them—but he already knows he doesn’t want that with Dream. He wants—
He has to stop. Try again. He wants—
“No?” Dream echoes. Sapnap wishes the soulmate bond will reveal to him more of what Dream is feeling at this moment. “You want to be…romantic soulmates.” When Sapnap internally panics and struggles to think of something to say, he continues with, “So you don’t hate me? But then why…when I asked you out, you said no.”
“I don’t hate you,” Sapnap says honestly, hoping Dream will hear his sincerity. “I could never hate you.”
He wants that to be enough, but of course it isn’t. Dream just continues staring at him, waiting for elaboration. If he were Dream, he would want more too. But damn it, Dream isn’t making it easy for him. He probably doesn’t deserve easy.
When too much time passes with neither of them speaking, Dream says, “Didn’t seem like that the past few months. I mean, if you don’t like me back that way, we could have just stayed friends. Do you know how it felt when you just started avoiding me?”
He wants to say yes. But Dream is right. He doesn’t know. It broke his own heart to do that. It probably shattered Dream’s.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers and means it.
But Dream forges on, a spill of pained words past his lips, the past few torturous months of heartache that he felt building inside both their chests. “And you didn’t even give me an explanation! You just upped and left and b—broke my heart.” Dream gets to his feet abruptly and so does Sapnap, afraid that Dream will walk out. “How could you do that to me? Even after all that, we ended up soulmates and now I don’t know what game you’re playing, agreeing to let me stay here and develop the bond when you clearly don’t want this.”
Sapnap doesn’t know either, but he’s not about to admit that. But—but he needs Dream to listen to him. He needs Dream to understand that despite his fears, despite his nightmares, a traitorous, wretched part of him wants this.
There. Sapnap has confessed.
Even though he’s hated soulmates since he was a little boy, he has also yearned to be Dream’s from the moment he knew what soulmates meant. It was easier, before everything, to ignore the consequences of soulmate bonds and just look at the happy parts. Even as he grew up, this part of him stayed like a stubborn little pest that steadily ate away at him.
He got better at hiding it, especially in front of his Mom and sister. But it stayed, in spite of their warnings. In spite of his promises to them.
And now, he’s paying the price for it. He’s in over his head, really, and he has no one to blame but himself.
“Dream. I’m sorry.” He makes sure to speak slowly, so that Dream can see how much he means it. “I—I never meant to hurt you that way. But you took me by surprise and I—I just—I didn’t know how else to react. I thought—I don’t know what I was thinking. But I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
It’s a flimsy apology. He inwardly cringes at it. Dream remains stoically still, gaze intense. He doesn’t say anything.
“And us being soulmates…” He swallows hard. “I do want it.”
Dream lets out a bitter laugh. “Clearly, you don’t.”
“Dream, I do.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“You’re lying—”
“I’m not lying!” Sapnap realises a moment too late that he’s raised his voice. He apologises quickly, afraid he’s done something wrong. Trampled past the last line drawn between them and sent it all crashing down. But when Dream merely waits for him to continue, he lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.
“It’s just—it’s complicated.” That isn’t much of an explanation either, which Dream looks ready to point out. So, Sapnap hurriedly says, “I just need to…I just need to deal with some things. And once I’m done, I promise…”
Can he really make that promise? He sees the look on Dream’s face. The mix of fear and hope and pain. And there’s nothing he can do but make that promise. “I promise I’ll talk to you about it. Once I’ve settled my shit.”
Once the words leave his mouth, he can’t take them back. He can only watch and wait with bated breath as Dream processes them. The tension between them builds, so thick that it could be cut through with a chainsaw.
Sapnap feels that familiar churning in his gut. His chest feels tight—too tight. Dream needs to say something now or he’ll—
“What shit?” Dream asks, head tilted a little in question.
Dream can already guess. He’s always been so freakishly smart. But Sapnap knows that Dream wants him to say it. Wants him to be the one to put everything out there for the both of them.
A few months ago, back when they used to hang out, talking was the cornerstone of their friendship. Dream was big on clearing up any misunderstandings. He was direct, to the point, and he didn’t let you go until arguments were resolved and miscommunications settled.
This time is no different. He wants Sapnap to lay out what they’re dealing with so that there will be no assumptions, no further traps to spiral down into.
Sapnap balls his fists. There’s no way to get around this.
“I dislike soulmates.”
“You hate it.”
Sapnap grits his teeth. “Fine. I hate it. But I…” His nails are digging so hard into his palms, they’ll surely leave marks. “I want to be your soulmate, Dream. That’s what I need to sort out.”
It seems like nothing once he’s put it out like that. Like something he should easily be able to get over. He hates soulmates? So what? But it’s not that easy. And Dream must be the most understanding human being in the world, because he gets that there’s something deeper beneath Sapnap’s hatred of soulmates. He doesn’t question it.
He only asks, “And once you’re done sorting things out, which part will be the one that stays?”
The two warring sides of him struggle to be the louder voice. The soulmate bond tugs at his chest. And even without it, he already knows what his choice will be.
He meets Dream’s eyes. “You.” In a quieter voice, he adds, “I want it to be you.”
A long silence follows his words. He stares at the floor between their feet, his mind worryingly empty as he waits for Dream’s response. It’s like he’s in shock from making such a bold claim.
When the quiet has stretched long enough that he’s sure it’s going to snap, Dream suddenly says, “This isn’t resolved, Sapnap. I’ll be waiting for you to tell me.”
Sapnap nods. He still can’t quite bear to look at Dream. “I know.”
“And…and if it helps to talk to someone, you can talk to me,” Dream says. “You can tell me anything, Sapnap.”
This Sapnap knows all too well. Dream is as selfless as they come. Even when he’s dealing with his own shit, he still has the time to spare to handle other’s.
“Okay.”
After a shorter silence, Sapnap’s mood begins to lift with optimism that is not his own. Yet, it feels forced, like Dream is psyching himself into believing that everything will work out fine.
“So,” Dream says, his expression considerably less tensed. “For the next two weeks, I just have to show you that soulmates are actually a damn good thing to have?”
He doesn’t deserve Dream. He doesn’t deserve him at all. “Um…I guess?”
Dream smiles. “Challenge accepted.”