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“Come on George!” Dream whined. “You taught me to spin, I wanna teach you some hockey stuff!”
“I said I don’t want to!” George repeated, swiftly skating out of reach when Dream tried to grab his wrist and pull him off the rink to get him equipped in hockey gear.
“Please Georgie! Do it for me!” Dream pleaded, sinking to his knees and folding his hands together in front of him.
“First of all, never call me that again. Second of all, why would doing it for you convince me?”
“Because you love me!” Dream tilted his head and bat his eyelashes. George rolled his eyes and turned to keep skating. “Fine!” Dream yelled. “What’s your favourite snack? I’ll buy it for you.”
“You’ll buy me chocolate covered raisins if I let you teach me to play hockey?” George turned back to Dream with an eyebrow raised in interest.
“Ew! You like chocolate covered raisins?!” Dream exclaimed. He screwed up his face in disgust.
“Is that a yes or a no?” George taking no notice of Dream’s statement about his favourite snack as he came to a stop on the ice and crossed his arms.
“Yes! It’s a yes!” Dream sighed in defeat, standing back up and turning to the rink’s nearest exit. “Come on let’s get you geared up.”
It wasn’t a Saturday, hockey practice day, so that meant they wouldn’t have to worry about any interruptions from any of Dream’s teammates. George had seemed nearly as shocked to see Dream arrive today as he had been when he caught Dream watching him skate two weeks ago.
Thankfully, the figure skater didn’t appear to mind the company. Dream was proud to show off a smooth spin that’s he’d practiced every free moment he was on the ice. Despite how it annoyed his teammates and coach. George had grinned and applauded his progress, to Dream’s pleasure.
And now, a few knee pads and a helmet later, Dream was planning to share a bit of his world with the Brit in return. George was still glaring daggers at Dream as he slapped his arms against his sides awkwardly. “I feel ridiculous, how are you supposed to skate like this?!”
“Just like you would normally skate, maybe even better because you can be more reckless.” Dream said, tossing George a smirk over his shoulder. He couldn’t even count the number of stupid stunts he’d tried to pull while wearing his hockey gear. He resorted to counting his scars these days. He had three that were actually visible. Oh, how frustrated Sapnap had been when he broke their scar-tie with his third, his best friend still only bearing two. “I reckon this stick would be about your height, you’re pretty short.”
“Hey!” George protested. “I’m the average height, shut up!”
Dream wheezed as he selected a puck and lead the way back to the ice. He placed the puck down and pushed it side to side with his hockey stick in a familiar rhythm that he had been practising almost daily since childhood. “Okay, come over here George! Try doing what I did just then.”
George reluctantly approached the puck and set the club of his stick down to the left of it. He took a deep breath and gave it a light tap to the right, then awkwardly swung the stick around to meet it on the other side.
“You’re left-handed?” Dream asked in surprise.
“Yeah.” George nodded. His eyes still fixed on the task at hand.
“You seem like the kind of person to be left-handed.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” George looked up at him with an amused frown.
“Mm, nothing.” Dream grinned as he skated a lazy loop around the Brit. He decided he rather enjoyed teasing the Brit.
“I’m also colour blind.” George informed with a smile. Looking back down at the puck.
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah, blue’s the only colour I can really see.”
“So, you’re colour blind, left-handed and you eat chocolate raisins.” Dream shook his head in mock disappointment. “You must be the most broken human being I’ve ever met.”
“Wha?! Being left-handed isn’t a bad thing and chocolate raisins are good and I can’t help that I’m colour blind!”
Dream fake sighed and continued skating laps around George as he struggled to fall into a pattern of tapping the puck back and forth. He watched his technique, offered tips here and there.
At one point, George’s frustration started to grow, Dream slid up behind him to help him adjust his grip on the hockey stick and guide his movements so he could feel the rhythm Dream had memorised. He noticed how tense George was as he murmured advice. The brunette seemed very distracted.
Finally, George was starting to get it and Dream decided George was ready to learn the next step.
“Great! Let’s try weaving through some cones now.”
Dream demonstrated guiding the puck around four bright orange cones his coach normally used for drills. Every fibre of George’s being was heavily concentrated when it was his turn. Dream found himself staring at his furrowed brow and admiring every subconscious reaction George showed when something did or didn’t go to plan.
“Alright I feel like you’re gonna like this bit.” Dream announced. George heaved a sigh of relief now that he didn’t have to do the drill anymore. “Wanna do some goal shooting?”
“Sure.” George nodded.
Dream walked him through the process of a more accurate wrist shot. “You wanna transfer your weight from your back leg to your front leg, then move your core with your arm as you swing, does that make sense?”
“Kinda…”
“Just show me what you’ve got okay?” Dream said, moving back a bit to give George some space. The brunette gave him an uncertain look to which Dream nodded in encouragement. George visibly took a deep breath, aligned his stick with the puck and took his shot.
For his first time, it was very good! Only missing the goal by a few centimetres and crashing against the wall behind it. The sound made George jump a little. Dream was desensitised to the noise and wasted no time in retrieving it. He guided it back the figure skater and grinned.
“That was your first time, right?”
“Yeah.” George admitted, sounding disappointed and embarrassed.
“No, no, no! George, that was great! It was so close.” Dream passed the puck to the brunette. “Try again. I reckon you might get it.”
Sliding back away, Dream watched with anticipation as George waited for reassurance again before aligning his stick with the puck once more.
“LET’S GO!” Dream cheered as the puck flew perfectly into the net. Throwing his arms up above his head.
George laughed in disbelief and shot looks at Dream that said: Did you see that? Did you just see that?! And Dream’s grin only grew wider.
~ ~ ~
George was relieved to strip his body free of the hockey gear, revelling in the freedom that was returned to his limbs. He made his way back onto the ice and performed a brief celebratory routine for no one but himself and Dream.
Dream was chuckling when George bowed. The hockey player approached him, clapping slowly. “You did very good for your first day, George. You should be proud.”
“I have a good teacher.” George responded. Finding satisfaction in seeing Dream chuckle and drop his eyes to the ice.
“So, what do you think about ice hockey now?”
“It’s alright…” George admitted reluctantly. “I definitely prefer figure skating though.”
Dream wheezed at his answer. George marvelled at how it was so easy to make Dream laugh.
George’s train of thought was interrupted by his stomach. He made his way back to his bag to fish out his phone and check the time.
12:30
“I’m starving, I think I might go get some lunch.” George said to Dream.
“I could eat, wanna get something together?” Dream suggested.
George took a moment to the offer. If he was being honest, he didn’t want to have to stop talking to Dream just yet and he wasn’t opposed to the idea of hanging out outside of the ice rink.
“Sure.” George nodded. He sat down in the seat next to his bag and started to take off his skates. Dream followed suit. Soon they were walking down the hallway towards the carpark together. Dream’s bag slung over his shoulder and George carrying his own at his side.
“You catch the bus to get here right?” Dream asked.
“Yeah.”
“I drive here, so we can put our bags in the back seat and I can drive us.”
“Okay.”
Waiting for them in the carpark was an old, green van. George tried to stifle a laugh when he saw it but failed.
“Okay listen.” Dream began to say in his defence. “It was really cheap and some of the guys on the hockey team don’t drive so it can be really helpful. So what if some of the speakers are broken?”
That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. George bust out laughing. With his arms wrapped around his stomach and leaning over he managed to ask. “Is- is that the only thing that’s broken?”
Dream grimaced. “Maybe a couple of other things. The AC’s pretty loud but it works… There’s a dent in the back of the van that’s kinda big.” Dream guided George around the van to point it out.
“Oh no, how did that happen?” George laughed.
“Just messing around with Sapnap, long story.” Dream waved his hand in dismissal.
“Did he also draw the smiley face on the number plate?”
“No, that was my ex-girlfriend.”
George’s mood dropped a little. He did his best not to show it, but the idea of Dream having a girlfriend made him feel strange. He didn’t like the feeling. He tried to lift his spirits again by pointing out other flaws in Dream’s old vehicle.
The tour continued into the car, ending with George putting his bag in the backseat as Dream had suggested and hopping into the passenger’s seat himself. Dream started the engine and the AC immediately went to work, blasting cool air through the car with an amusing rattle.
The leather seats had definitely seen better days. The floor was littered with crumbs that remained from what George imagined to be loud celebrations after hockey games and road trips that forced the team to be much more comfortable with each other than George thought anyone should be.
But George thought all these things about Dream’s van gave it a sort of charm. The van held pieces of the team’s history. Memories were made inside this vehicle. George quickly came to understand why Dream wasn’t in a rush to get a new car. George had only been in the car for five minutes but was already getting attached.
And judging by how close they’d gotten in a couple of weeks, the van not be the only thing George was becoming attached to.