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Sapnap realized he was in love with Dream when they had 37 days left together.
It wasn’t like one of those time-ticking soulmate scenarios like he had read about in fantasy books. No, the deadline at the end of those 37 days was a packed car backing out of Dream’s driveway, and a roommate that wasn’t Sapnap in a dorm that wasn’t theirs. His best friend had chosen a stupid college six hundred stupid miles away, which meant spending almost the whole year apart after they’d gone through six grades side by side.
Neither of them kept track of the weeks following graduation. Summer could be the same, each reasoned to himself. Swimming and skating, biking and hanging out. They had time.
June dripped into July, sweaty faces and melting ice cream, and Dream’s mom started to nag him about minifridges and twin xl sheets. Sapnap’s mom kept texting him course logins and links about underage drinking, but the duo still didn’t bother to mind the days.
Late in July, they came in from swimming, dripping wet but still summertime sweaty. Dream perched himself on the kitchen counter, swinging his feet while he tried to juggle two peaches from the fruit bowl, and Sapnap started raiding the freezer in search of popsicles.
“You want one?” He offered, waving the treat at Dream. He shook his head, concentration locked on the trick.
“I’ll take one,” Drista announced, strolling into the kitchen with an armful of mail.
She dropped a soft gray package in front of Dream, then chucked the rest of the mail in the bin on the counter, seized her popsicle from Sapnap, and walked out.
“That’s got your school address on it,” Sapnap noted, ripping the wrapper off the popsicle.
“Yeah. Hand me those scissors?”
He tossed Dream the tool, leaning on the counter to watch him cut it open.
Dream pulled it out of the package, soft fabric falling out of its folded position. He held the item in front of his face, a brilliant purple sweatshirt with the school’s crest on the front. “Sapnap, look!” Dream dropped the hoodie a few inches to show his grin just above the neckline. “Cool, right?”
Sapnap wanted to chalk it up to the tans they’d been working on, hanging by the pool all summer. He wanted to blame the sun streaming in the windows, the slight glow of chlorine water and sweat highlighting Dream’s brow. (It shouldn’t have been hot, his stupid, slicked back hair. It still was.)
He could’ve said, objectively, that the color was good on his best friend. That the sweatshirt fit him well, coasting over his broad shoulders to taper at the waist. He could’ve said it all, objectively.
But it symbolized leaving. It symbolized Dream breaking from their adolescent traditions, and walking into a new life that at least--for a while--wouldn’t have Sapnap in it.
It hurt, badly. Something was ringing like an alarm in the back of his head. Something was ticking like time counting down.
“Yeah,” Sapnap bit back the words, his feelings, the confession. “Cool!”
~
Weeks passed like hours, and they scarcely spent any apart. Everything had to be done one more time--one more day at the beach. One more at the amusement park. One more with their hometown friends George, Karl, and Bad.
They saved their hometown goodbye for last, spending that final day as a mishmash of many others. Dinner was pizza, from the brightly lit joint they’d invaded after prom, dancing in their shirts and ties on slightly greasy floors, after the manager grinned at them and handed over control of the speakers. Sapnap didn’t honestly remember what their dates had done, all that was frozen in his mind was one moment where Dream looked right at him, head thrown back in a grinning laugh. He’d then tried to jump up on the table with two quick steps, but slipped when his foot hit the edge of the booth. Sapnap remembered watching his arms pinwheel as he jumped back down to the floor, and promptly busted his ass. Sapnap remembered laughing until his cheeks hurt.
So they got dinner there.
After that, neither wanted the plastic-wrapped brownies at the cash register, but with an exchanged look and a jingle of keys, they knew their idea was the same.
And that’s how they ended up on the grass of the high school soccer field in the August twilight, each with his own--slightly melted--slushie.
Even as the icy, sweet drink coasted over his tongue, Sapnap knew they’d been a bad idea. Nevermind that they provided the perfect silhouette to ogle his best friend from--Dream’s jawline, soft white skin in the fading light, his pursed lips--but all he could think about was that one stupid, stupid twitter post.
What if...what if we got slushies, and you got a red one and i got a blue one...and then we...made purple.
It didn’t even make sense, he sternly told himself. Dream’s drink was green , an electric lime mess that he’d pulled out of the machine with the glee of a toddler. His was red, a caffeinated cherry flavor that he always chose, both because it snapped on his tongue in a way that reminded him of pop rocks, and because the machine it came from groaned like a dormant hippopotamus as the cup filled.
It would turn yellow at best, brown at worst. An unappetizing, unaesthetic mess, not the stuff of vsco pictures or instagram posts.
That thought turned his stomach over. A selfie of the two of them, pressed cheek to cheek, with a heart and the word boyfriend in the caption. Oh, god.
A long slurp distracted him, as Dream sucked up the last of the drink. “Whatcha thinking about?”
He could just stutter through the question. He could just…
“What are you thinking about?”
The internal cringe. Oh my god, that was unnecessary and aggressive and--
Dream laughed, slightly self consciously. “I don’t want to tell you.”
“But now I'm interested, come on.”
“No.”
“Yes!” Sapnap set his slushie down and twisted so he was on his stomach, looking up at Dream, chin propped in his hands. “Pretty please?”
Dream’s laughter was louder now. “Not when you’re making a face like that.”
“Fine. I’ll stop.” He straightened himself up and looked back at Dream. “So?”
“I was remembering…” Dream smirked. “I was remembering the time you asked me to kiss you.”
Sapnap’s blood ran cold. That memory, that night in Dream’s room. It had been two weeks before the start of sophomore year, and in a two AM haze Sapnap had rolled over in bed to face Dream.
He remembered the soft way he’d said it--damn, he wished it could forget that--he remembered the way Dream’s eyes peered into the darkness, bright and attentive and willing.
And he’d remembered the way Dream had said no.
He’d spared Sapnap the embarrassment of rejection by rolling over and falling asleep, and in the morning they made breakfast and biked to the convenience store like nothing had happened. Dream hadn’t brought it up for almost three years.
“I remember what you said, Pandas. You said you were worried that people would think you weren’t cool.” Dream’s gaze dropped to his hands, fiddling with the straw from his drink.
“I remember what you said,” Sapnap croaked. “You said ‘how would they find out?’”
“You said it back,” Dream smiled. “I thought it was a good touche.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t think I ever told you, though. Why I said no, I mean.”
His bright eyes met Sapnap’s in the summer sunset.
“I want your first kiss to be special, Sapnap. Promise me you’ll make it special.”
“I--” Words were stuck in Sapnap’s throat. You. Me . I bet I could taste lime, if I just leaned forward right now and--you’d hate me. We could be together. You’d be disgusted and we’d never speak again.
You’re leaving.
“I promise.”
~
The next day, he stood on the curb as Dream chucked his backpack into the shotgun seat. Dream’s parents were inside, somewhere, sorting out last minute GPS directions or driving shifts.
Dream’s jovial face peered out of the rolled-down window. “Guess this is it, doll.”
This was it.
After last night, he almost had confirmation. No one would say something like that unless they meant it, wouldn’t hint so hard unless the feelings were reciprocated. So why were his palms still so sweaty, and his face so hot?
“Dream,” Sapnap started. I like you. I love you. I’m in love with you. I think you’re cute, and I can’t bear to see you go .
Words weren’t enough. Words were confusing and unwieldy, too soft at the same time they were far too harsh.
So Sapnap did the only thing he could think of: reached a hand through the car window and grabbed the collar of Dream’s t-shirt.
He didn’t anticipate the roof of the car causing an issue, but Dream’s stupid height screwed everything up. With one tug, Dream’s forehead was pressed up against the top of the window, and their noses were just barely brushing. Not close enough.
The adrenaline from the movement had brought them close enough to share a breath, but Sapnap couldn’t connect their lips without being far too rough. He couldn’t kiss Dream, especially because of the look on the blond boy’s face.
“Sapnap.” Dream said, flatly. “Let me go.”
He’d misjudged it.
He’d fucked everything up.
Sapnap released Dream with a shaking hand. “I--”
The car door swung open, and Sapnap stepped backwards, excuses and apologies frothing at his mouth. I’m so sorry, I’ll never do it again, I don’t know what I was thinking, our friendship, I--
“Did you just try to kiss me?”
Sapnap gulped and nodded. “After last night I--”
Dream shut the door and leaned against it, arms crossed. “After last night you what?”
“I thought you--I--” he caught his breath and steeled himself. “I thought I could tell you...that I like you.”
Dream’s face was impassive, unreadable. “How long?”
“Since you bought that sweatshirt.” Sapnap whispered. “Since you opened it on the kitchen counter, and I realized that you were going six hundred miles away. Since I realized I had thirty-seven chances left to tell you, and I blew every one.”
Dream’s eyebrow quirked. “Every one?”
Sapnap didn’t look up, the ground his miserable comfort. “Every one.”
“Pandas, have you ever tried to make out in a car when you’re 6’3?”
He looked up at Dream, agape. “I’m not that tall--”
Dream cut him off with a sort of choking laugh. “It doesn’t work, babe.”
Holy shit, he just said--babe . Did he just actually call me--
“It gets all tangled, and you’re uncomfortable, and…” Dream trailed off, looking back at Sapnap.
“And I wanted our first kiss to be perfect.”
Sapnap’s head flew up, and he stared Dream in the face. “What did you just say?”
One tanned hand extended and caught under his chin, gently. “I said you look cute when you’re flustered.”
There were six ice cream cones in that kiss, seventeen sunsets. Two nights of alcohol and weed in Sapnap’s basement, four trips to the mall for dorm stuff, prom pizza, twilight stars, and eighteen years of friendship. Sapnap’s first kiss lasted thirty-seven seconds, each better than the last.