Chapter Text
Dream can say that he is living the life. His best friend of nine years has moved in with him. They can finally hang out at all the places they said they were going to, can finally heckle each other whenever they want to and really just enjoy their time together.
Sapnap seems happy enough by their new situation, always greeting Dream with a smile, allowing Dream to lounge about in his room for hours on end and excitedly introducing Dream to anime.
Dream, on his part, has a more selfish reason for his happiness that Sapnap is here. It’s a reason he’s never told anyone. Not his family. Not his friends. Not even his other best friend George. Definitely not Sapnap.
And the reason is this.
He’s in love with Sapnap.
Has been for a while now.
While it might ache to have him so close but to not be able to touch him or hug him or do the things that Dream really wants to do to him, it’s enough to have him here. With Dream. Sharing meals together. Watching Netflix. Gaming on their computers. Chilling on the couch with Patches, chatting late into the night.
It’s enough, because just seeing Sapnap smile in person warms the tender insides of Dream’s heart. Seeing him there, on their shared couch, laughing at something Dream said, is a sight that is enough to buoy Dream through weeks of hardship.
So, he’s enjoying his life. He’s happy. He’s satisfied.
Until the night they’re talking about something random and their conversation somehow latches on to the topic of someone they like. Dream, not wanting to be prodded into revealing the person of his affections, asks Sapnap first.
Dream has always thought that while he loved Sapnap, it would be a hell of a chance for Sapnap to love him back. Because Sapnap is just so…Sapnap. He’s bright, he’s loud, he’s affectionate and he could have anyone in the goddamn world, so why would he settle for just plain old Dream?
But a man could hope.
So, as Sapnap gets all flushed and fidgety, avoiding Dream’s eyes, stammering that it’s none of Dream’s business, Dream gets a sinking feeling that the person Sapnap is thinking of isn’t him.
He tells himself he expected this. He forces himself to move past it. To keep the taunting smile plastered on his face as he goads Sapnap into spilling the beans.
In all honesty, he wants the name out from Sapnap’s mouth. Wants to know if Sapnap’s special person is someone he knows. Someone obviously better than him. Someone he can never compete against.
But Sapnap turns the conversation around and asks, “Who do you like, huh?”
Dream falters for a moment, for he’s never been a good liar. But he manages to recover and shoot back, “Why should I say the name if you don’t say yours?”
“You’re the one who brought it up,” Sapnap says, his face losing some of its flush as the focus shifts away from him. “So spill.”
But Dream won’t budge and Sapnap won’t either and because of the burning questions Dream has about this mystery person Sapnap likes, he has to propose, “What about this—we can ask each other five questions about the other person’s crush and the other person has to answer.”
Sapnap deliberates for a second. Then, he must be curious about Dream’s mystery person as well, for he says, “But we can’t ask the name. Or anything that might easily reveal the person’s identity.”
“What, want this to be some epic mystery we have to solve?”
Sapnap flushes again, embarrassed. “No! But do you want to reveal who you like? No? Then don’t make fun of me.”
Dream makes a face. “Fine.”
Sapnap kicks it off with the first question. “Do I know them?”
“Yes,” Dream says immediately. “Do I know yours?”
Sapnap nods. “Yeah. Is it…is it a boy?”
Dream answers yes. When he directs the question to Sapnap as well, he gets the same answer. Hm. So, Sapnap likes a boy they both know…that doesn’t really narrow down the options. They have a lot of mutual friends who are guys.
The questions continue. Dream asks how long Sapnap has known this boy, how tall he is (for lack of anything better to ask), and, lastly, how deep Sapnap’s affections are for him. Sapnap’s answers for the first two are straightforward enough—he’s known the boy for a while and the boy is taller than him. The last one, though, the most important one in Dream’s opinion, he skirts around for a few minutes, attempting to stall and redirect.
Dream presses until he gets his answer. That Sapnap is in deep.
The admission is like an arrow straight through Dream’s heart. Sapnap likes someone who isn’t him. Really likes him.
Sapnap asks him three more questions in return, but his mind is only half on answering them, the rest of him more intent on finding out just who this boy is whose stolen Sapnap’s heart away from Dream.
“Wait,” Dream says, when the questioning is over and Sapnap looks like he wants to escape to the kitchen or his room or somewhere else. “Just one more thing. Please.”
Sapnap shakes his head stubbornly. “You already got five questions.”
“You can ask me one more as well.”
“Then it’ll just keep going on!”
“No! Just this last one. I promise.”
Sapnap purses his lips as he deliberates and Dream wonders why he wants to do this to himself. Why he wants to torture himself by knowing more about this boy who will one day whisk Sapnap away from him. He almost regrets asking and is opening his mouth to take it back when Sapnap relents and says, “Fine. One more question.”
It’s Dream’s turn to hesitate. He’s not really sure if he wants to ask his question anymore.
Impatiently, Sapnap says, “Spit it out. Or I can go first. When—”
“What do you like about him?” Dream blurts out.
Sapnap blinks at him, as if he doesn’t understand the question. Dream doesn’t know if he can gather the courage to ask it again.
Thankfully, Sapnap registers the words and says, “I—” He flushes. Hard. He avoids Dream’s eyes. “There’s not just one thing…”
Each word is another arrow in Dream’s heart. But he ignores the sting. He has to know. Whether it’s just some morbid curiosity that’ll cause him to be in more pain or whether it’s because he wants to make sure this boy will treat Sapnap right, he just has to.
So, he tries his best to look interested and excited as he says, “Come on now, tell me.”
Sapnap shifts uncomfortably, still not meeting Dream’s eyes as he sorts through his words. “Well…he’s funny. He always makes fun of me, but he’s…also really supportive of me…” Sapnap trails off, cheeks tinged pink. It doesn’t even seem like he’s aware of Dream sitting before him, too absorbed in his own head with thoughts about his mystery crush. “And he’s so generous. He’s just…”
Dream fills in the word without Sapnap having to. Perfect. He’s just so perfect. And even if Dream wanted to vie for Sapnap’s affections against this mystery boy, he doesn’t stand a chance.
But wait…maybe not such a mystery boy anymore. Dream might have some ideas on who it is. Always makes fun of Sapnap but is also really supportive? Very generous? Could it be…George? No, Sapnap has said before that George isn’t his type. Quackity? Probably not. Punz? Definitely not. What about…Karl?
Once he latches on to that name, he can’t let it go. Karl. Sapnap does like Karl quite a lot. He likes to hang out with Karl. He even let Karl paint his nails before.
Oh god, Dream can’t quite parse the emotions flooding him as he realises. It’s Karl. Sapnap likes Karl.
“So nice,” Sapnap finishes, blush deepening when he finally realises Dream has been staring at him all this time. “Stop—stop it.”
Dream forces a laugh, thinking about Sapnap thinking about Karl. He can’t help the sharp coil of jealousy in his gut. “You’re red.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re actually so red.” He grins, forcing away the bad feelings. “Awh, little Sapnap has a crush that makes him blush! Hey, that rhymes.”
“Shut up, Dream,” Sapnap grumbles. “Don’t forget, you have a crush too. I can tease you as much as you tease me.”
“Do you see me blushing?”
“Shut up.” Sapnap glares. “It’s my turn to ask the question. When did you start liking him?”
Dream doesn’t know when exactly he started falling for Sapnap. It wasn’t love at first sight. It was slow, gradual, creeping up on him unawares. They were best friends first and spent nearly every waking moment of their childhood together. All of Dream’s memories of his childhood have Sapnap in them, some way or another. When they weren’t together, he always looked forward to the next time he could hang out with Sapnap.
Somewhere along the way, those thoughts took on a different meaning, without him even realising. Instead of just wanting Sapnap to hang out with him, he started wanting Sapnap close to him. Physically. Emotionally. He started wondering what it would feel like to hold his hand or hold him. Started associating the ugly burning in his stomach as jealousy whenever Sapnap seemed to get particularly close to someone else.
But the question of when this started happening…he doesn’t really know. It just happened.
“Dream?” Sapnap prompts. “You spaced out.”
“Oh, um…a few years ago, I think.”
A pause. Sapnap tilts his head as he regards Dream and Dream can’t read the expression on his face. “That’s a long time.”
It is. He wonders how long Sapnap has liked Karl. But he’s run out of questions and can’t ask it anymore. Maybe Sapnap will tell him one day. Or actually, Dream doesn’t want to know. He doesn’t want to know how long Sapnap has liked Karl. Doesn’t want more reasons for the jealousy within him to grow.
But who is he kidding—it’ll fester anyways, whether he tries to control it or not.
“Well,” he says, suddenly feeling the urge to change the subject. “Let’s watch something.” He reaches for the remote and turns on the TV, scrolling through the shows on Netflix. “The anime you’ve been badgering me to watch—what was it called?”
Sapnap’s eyes go round. “You actually want to watch it?”
“Yeah, sure. It sounded interesting.”
“Yes!” Sapnap exclaims, excitedly wresting the remote from Dream.
And as Dream watches Sapnap eagerly scrolling through the shows to find the anime, which turns out to be titled Death Note, he can’t fight the ache in his chest, growing stronger as he thinks about what he’s learnt about Sapnap today.
Sapnap likes someone who is not Dream.
It hurts.
===
The next few days, nothing between them really changes. Dream tries his hardest not to let Sapnap’s confession come between them. And it’s easy enough, especially as they’re still experiencing the novelty of sharing the same house.
Dream learns to get used to having someone live with him again, after the past three years of living alone. He moved out of his family home the year he turned eighteen. Honestly, it’s nice living under the same roof as someone else again. It makes his house feel less empty, warmer.
They eat most of their meals together. Dream cooks sometimes for both of them, a part of him warming whenever Sapnap compliments his cooking and raves about it for a few days afterwards, asking Dream when he can cook for him again. They split the household chores. They split rent too, on Sapnap’s insistence. Dream wanted to just keep paying on his own, but Sapnap wouldn’t have it.
On some days, they hardly spend any time together, holed up in their own rooms. Even then, it is enough to know that someone else is in the house with him, making him feel less lonely. On others, they’re together nearly the whole day, lounging in the living room watching television or hanging out on discord with the rest of their friends. Sometimes, Dream also spends hours on the floor of Sapnap’s room, where they talk about nothing and everything.
So, it’s safe to say that even with his newfound knowledge about Sapnap’s crush, he’s still leading a pretty damn good life having Sapnap as his housemate. He can almost forget about it entirely, except his traitorous mind won’t let him.
Like when Sapnap smiles at him so happily, a part of him will be delighted that this is a side of him other people hardly get to see, that this is something Dream can selfishly keep for himself. Until he remembers about Sapnap’s crush and how, in the future, that smile of his will be reserved solely for his significant other. For Karl.
When these thoughts invade his mind, he tries in vain to shake them away. Sapnap will continue talking, oblivious, while Dream battles with the rising internal jealousy. The good thing is that Sapnap has never noticed.
Sometimes, Dream wishes he did, that he would ask Dream what’s wrong. Maybe, Dream would be brave enough to tell him. To work up the nerve and confess.
But he isn’t fooling anyone. Especially not himself. He’ll never be brave enough to confess. Not when he’s up against someone like Karl. Pretty, perfect Karl.
These are all the thoughts on Dream’s mind as he cleans the floors one day, that being one of the chores he chose to do. He’s already done the upstairs and is now working his way across the first floor of the house. As he bends to vacuum beneath the sofa, something wedged against the sofa leg catches his eye. It’s a splash of colour against the grey carpet and he picks it up out of curiosity.
It’s small, barely a third the size of his palm. It’s soft and silky to the touch, dark red against his pale hand. He looks at it for far too long, trying to understand.
Footsteps on the stairs and Sapnap’s voice floating into the living room snap him out of it. He was saying something, but trails off as he looks at Dream.
“Everything okay?” Sapnap asks. His gaze flicks down to Dream’s raised hand. “What’s that?”
Dream looks at the dark red splash on his palm once again. He holds it up for Sapnap to see. “It’s a flower petal. There aren’t any flowers in this house.”
“Oh, well—” At this, Sapnap suddenly looks away, avoiding Dream’s eyes. “I…um…I bought a flower the other day.”
Dream reviews his memories for one of Sapnap coming home with a flower. He comes up blank. Sapnap did go to the store a few days ago, but there weren’t any flowers…
“Oh,” Dream says, for lack of anything better to say.
Sapnap’s face is red. His hand is on the back of his neck as he says, “It was a rose. It looked really pretty and it was on a discount and I like flowers, so I thought, why not, right? So I decided to buy it and…” He takes one look at Dream’s face and stops. “What? That’s…that’s okay, right? You’re not allergic or anything to flowers?”
Dream doesn’t know what expression was on his face, btu he quickly schools it into a smile. “Of course it’s okay. I just didn’t know you liked flowers.”
He’s known Sapnap for nine years. How did this never come up?
“Yeah, well…now you do?” Sapnap’s determinedly avoiding Dream’s gaze.
Dream can’t tell if he’s lying or if he’s embarrassed. But there’s literally no reason why he would be lying about this.
“Well, maybe you could get a few more,” Dream suggests, as he continues to vacuum, deciding to spare Sapnap the embarrassment of teasing him about this. “Decorate this place a little. We could have a vase out here. Make this place seem less dull.”
“Yeah, we could!” Sapnap agrees enthusiastically. “I—yeah. I can get a bunch.”
Dream fights to contain his smile. “Maybe a little less than a bunch? Flowers are cool, but I don’t really want this house to turn into a florist shop.”
Sapnap’s blush darkens. He’s definitely embarrassed, not lying. “Yeah, of course.”
After that exchange, Dream doesn’t think too much about it anymore. Until later on at night, while he’s sitting on his bed with the flower petal in his hand. He doesn’t know why he didn’t throw it away. It’s already beginning to rot.
He’ll have to discard it soon. But for now, he leaves it on his desk, stares at it a moment longer. Something just feels…off. With this innocent-looking petal. With Sapnap’s embarrassment when faced with it. But try as he might, he can’t figure out what it is.
Anyway, he tells himself. It doesn’t matter. Sapnap likes flowers—so what?
He’s just learnt something new about his best friend today. That’s hardly something to stay up pondering. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he slides beneath his covers and gets ready to sleep.
===
Over the next few days, Dream finds a few more rose petals around the house. There’s one behind the sink of the upstairs bathroom. Two more partially obscured by paper towels in the trash can. Another one wedged in a corner of the kitchen.
Dream keeps them all, except for the ones in the trash can. He doesn’t understand why, but it just…it just feels important. Sapnap hardly enters his room anyways, so it’s not like he’ll find out about the small pile of rose petals on Dream’s desk.
True to his word, Sapnap really does buy roses, placing a vase of them on the countertop. He discards the ones he bought the last time and as Dream watches the stalks dropping into the trash can, he has an inexplicable urge to pick them back up, to store them safely with the rest of his petals. But he doesn’t know why the hell he would do that and pushes the thought harshly out of his mind.
He has to stop having such weird thoughts.
And he does succeed, in the days that follow, since they spend most of it outside. Dream promised to bring Sapnap to different places to eat when he came to Florida. Sapnap also wants to go to amusement parks and cinemas and the lot and Dream is happy to follow along. (And though he tries to steel himself against it, spending more time with Sapnap all over Florida is just making him fall deeper and deeper for him. Dream wishes liking Sapnap wasn’t this hard.) They come home each day contented but exhausted, heading straight to their rooms to rest.
But after those few days of activity are over, Dream wakes up the next morning to the sound of loud coughing from across the hallway. From Sapnap’s room. He rubs bleary eyes and pads across the short distance between their rooms, knocking lightly on Sapnap’s door.
“Sap?” He asks. “You okay?”
A significant pause. Dream considers knocking again, in case Sapnap didn’t hear him.
Then, Sapnap croaks out, barely audible through the door, “I’m fine.”
Dream thinks about pushing further, because Sapnap does not sound fine, but he decides not to. Sapnap definitely won’t appreciate Dream barging into his room when he’s already not feeling good. He’ll make breakfast instead and see if Sapnap’s up for eating.
But when he reaches the first floor of his house, he can only stop at the bottom of the stairs and stare. There’s a whole trail of rose petals down here, leading from the bottom of the stairs to the kitchen. He wasn’t paying attention while walking down the stairs, but now when he looks back, he finds the dark red of petals against the brown wood.
He’s about to call out to Sapnap and ask what the hell happened here—did he, like, buy a bunch of flowers and decide to sprinkle their petals everywhere for no reason at all—when a loud fit of coughing sounds from upstairs. The questions can wait, he decides, until Sapnap gets down here.
For now, he picks his way carefully over the petal trail to the kitchen. The roses in the vase on the countertop are still alive. All these petals on the floor aren’t from those roses. Which means Sapnap went to buy more? Why? And when would he have done that? He and Dream were literally attached at the hip for the past few days.
Dream tries to think as he puts together a simple breakfast of milk and cereal. He’ll clean up after he’s eaten. Hopefully, by then, Sapnap will be down and he can ask why the hell he’s buying so many flowers.
Has Sapnap been some sort of flower fanatic all this time and Dream has just never known? Is this, like, a secret hobby Sapnap has that he’s embarrassed to share with others? He should know Dream will never judge him. Not over something like this. People are entitled to like what they want to and if it’s something as harmless as flowers, Dream is supportive of it. He’ll even buy the roses for him—a whole house full of them, if that’s what Sapnap wants.
But after Dream has eaten, washed up and cleared all the petals from the first floor, throwing them into the trash can since he’s figured he shouldn’t keep all of them, Sapnap still hasn’t come down. There’s no more coughing from upstairs. There’s not even the slightest pip, which makes Dream worry a little. He goes back up, sweeping petals as he goes. He knocks on Sapnap’s door again, louder this time.
“Sapnap? You in there?”
No response.
The worry grows. A gut feeling tells him—something’s wrong.
He knocks even harder and this time, the door gives way beneath his fist. Right. The lock on Sapnap’s door isn’t working. So, without meaning to, he gets a glimpse into Sapnap’s room.
And the sight floors him.
What…He pushes the door open wider, not seeing Sapnap, only the rose petals all over the room. What the hell…?
There’s trails of them on the floor. A pile scraped together on his bed, with a few stray ones littered over the covers. Another few piles on his desk. There are flower petals everywhere. And no Sapnap.
“Dream.” The voice comes from behind Dream. Sapnap must’ve been in the bathroom.
He turns quickly. “Sapnap—what…what is going on in here?”
Sapnap blanches, as if he has suddenly remembered the state of his room. He hurries past Dream, picks up his trash can and begins dumping fistfuls of petals into it. “I—no, this isn’t what it looks like. It isn’t—I can—I can explain, okay? Just…please, just—”
“Hey,” Dream says, reaching out.
Sapnap startles so badly when Dream’s hand lands on his shoulder that he drops the trash can. It lands with a loud thud.
“Sorry,” Dream says quickly, bending to pick it back up. “Sapnap, listen…it’s fine. Calm down.”
But Sapnap isn’t calming down. His face remains turned away from Dream’s, shoulders tensed, breaths coming in fast. Dream wants to reassure him. Wants him to know that whatever this is, it’s really fine. It’s just flowers.
“C’mon,” he says. “I’ll help you clean—”
“—No!” Sapnap exclaims, whipping around to face Dream.
Dream, stunned, can only stutter out, “W—Why not?”
“I mean—I mean, no, it’s fine,” Sapnap says, looking away once again. He takes the trash can back from Dream. “I can manage. I bought these flowers anyways, so I’ll clean them up.”
He begins to shovel petals into the trash can with renewed vigour, keeping his back turned pointedly. It’s Dream’s cue to leave. Except, he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t think he should. Sapnap is clearly still unsettled and he doesn’t want to leave it like that.
So, he wanders over to Sapnap’s desk as Sapnap deals with the petals surrounding his bed. He picks one of the petals up, examining it between his fingers. Maybe it’s just his imagination or maybe it’s the dim lighting of Sapnap’s room, but the petal seems like a much darker shade of red than the ones Dream kept on his desk.
“So…you really like flowers, huh.”
Sapnap stiffens. Then, he relaxes, dumping another handful of petals into the trash. “I guess so. They’re…nice.”
“That’s cool,” Dream says, trying to make it sound like it really is cool and he has no problem with it at all. He’s not sure if he gets it.
Sapnap doesn’t say anything to that. The silence between them is awkward, something that hasn’t happened to them in a long, long time.
And Dream gets a sudden irrational feeling that something has changed irrevocably between them.
He dismisses it immediately—it’s just flowers. That’s all. It doesn’t mean anything.
“Why buy so many, though?” Dream asks, placing the petal back onto the table, atop the tallest pile Sapnap scraped together. “They die so fast. Maybe you could buy fake ones so they can last forever.”
Sapnap is quiet for a long time. Far too long, in Dream’s opinion, for the simple question he was asked. Then, he says, “It’s not the same.”
Before Dream can respond, he carries on quickly with, “Anyways, I’m just—I’m not feeling too good, Dream. I think I’ll need to rest for a bit.”
Sapnap definitely doesn’t look good. The lighting is dim, but he can still see how pale Sapnap looks, standing there holding the trash can full of rose petals. He moves forward, wanting to relieve Sapnap of it, offering to help him finish clearing up his room while he’s resting.
But Sapnap turns his body away, bringing the trash can with him. “Dream, please…I just…I just need some time alone. I’m sorry.”
“Oh…” Dream falters, gaze on the distance between them. He feels like he’s done something wrong. He doesn’t know what it is. “Okay then, I’ll just…” He edges towards the door, waiting for Sapnap to turn back towards him.
But Sapnap never does.
“Do you need anything?” Dream asks, lingering at the doorway. “Food? Water?”
“No,” Sapnap says. “Thanks.”
With nothing left to keep stalling, Dream leaves the room, closing the door gently behind him. He stays for a while, listening for the sounds of Sapnap moving about inside. He hears the thump of the trash can hitting the floor. Then, the sounds of Sapnap getting onto his bed. Then, nothing.
Sighing, he heads back downstairs, deciding to cook something for Sapnap. Food always makes Sapnap feel better. Since he seems to like Dream’s cooking a lot…hopefully it’ll work.
Half an hour later, he’s back at Sapnap’s door with a plate of pancakes in his hand. He knocks first. He waits.
“Come in,” comes Sapnap’s muffled voice.
He pushes the door open. Sapnap must not have rested very long—his room is entirely clean now. There is no evidence of flower petals, save for the trash bag tied up beside the door. Dream steps neatly past it, carrying the food into Sapnap’s room.
“Here,” he says, waiting until Sapnap sits up to pass it to him. He hands him a fork and a knife as well. “Eat up. You’ll feel better.”
Sapnap stares at it for a moment, then up at Dream. “I…I’m sorry about earlier. I just, I wasn’t feeling well and I—”
“It’s fine,” Dream assures. “Really. You don’t have to be sorry. I shouldn’t have kept pushing.”
But Sapnap still looks bothered. So, in a bid to distract Sapnap from his thoughts, he asks, “Do you feel better?”
Sapnap glances up at him, then quickly away. Huh. Sapnap really doesn’t want to look at him today. Has he done something wrong? Is Sapnap upset with him?
“Yeah,” Sapnap answers, staring down at his food, clutching the plate so tightly.
“That’s…that’s good.” Dream, sensing that Sapnap still wants to be alone, once again does his slow retreat back to the door. “Well then…I’ll be downstairs if you need anything, okay?”
At that moment, Sapnap meets his gaze and opens his mouth like he wants to say something. But he catches himself and whatever words were about to make themselves known never make it past his lips.
Dream lingers, sensing that whatever Sapnap was about to say was important. “What is it?”
Sapnap hesitates for a moment. Then, he lifts the plate in his hands and says, “Just wanted to say thanks for making me breakfast. You didn’t have to.”
Dream offers a smile. “Nah, I wanted to.”
They smile at each other tentatively across the room and it should be awkward, but somehow, it isn’t. Until Sapnap coughs and looks away again, back down at his food. Dream takes it as his cue to leave. This time, Sapnap doesn’t stop him.
===
Sapnap comes downstairs eventually sometime after he’s done eating, assuring Dream that he’s fine, he just had a really bad headache and needed to sleep it off. The rest of the day passes as usual. Sapnap isn’t avoiding his eyes quite so much anymore and he’s smiling more and talking like nothing’s wrong. Dream is happy to go along with it. The last thing he wants is to cause Sapnap more discomfort by pursuing the matter.
Except, he should have pursued it. Because over the next few days, as Dream continues to pick up flower petals from all over the house while also listening to the coughing that has seemed to become a permanent sound from Sapnap’s room, Sapnap doesn’t seem fine anymore. In fact, he seems worse.
Dream keeps some medicine in the bathroom cabinet above the sink. He doesn’t notice it at first. But one day, a week after Sapnap’s headache episode, he’s rooting around the bottles of pills and realises—the bottle of painkillers has nearly been emptied out. He only knows this because his hand bumps into it by accident and the sound it makes as it hits the linoleum floor is not one of a half-filled bottle.
Opening the cap to peer at the contents of the bottle only prove his suspicions.
It is then that he really starts reviewing Sapnap’s actions for the past week. He hasn’t been coming out of his room so much, but that isn’t really worrisome. Since Sapnap’s moved in, there have been instances where the two of them spend days barely seeing each other, each wrapped up in their own things in their own rooms.
But they had some gaming sessions this week with their mutual friends and Sapnap either didn’t show or left early, claiming he needed to sleep. Dream didn’t think much of it then—but now…
He strides towards Sapnap’s room and knocks. When he hears Sapnap saying he can come in, he pushes the door open. The first thing he notices, however, isn’t Sapnap. It’s another bag of trash right beside the door, filled with what is unmistakeably rose petals.
He stares at it for a moment too long, mind racing, wondering why the hell Sapnap’s room just seems to be filled with endless roses. Dream’s been mainly in his own room, so he might not have known when Sapnap left the house to get more roses. But the bottle in Dream’s hand points to the fact that Sapnap has been taken painkillers for the past few days. Would he have enough energy to run around buying roses?
“Dream,” Sapnap says and something in his voice sounds…wary. Like he’s bracing himself for a conversation.
Dream turns towards him. And worry causes his gut to clench tightly as he takes in Sapnap’s appearance. He certainly doesn’t look fine at all.
His face is pale and drawn. There are dark shadows smudged beneath his eyes like he hasn’t been sleeping well. His hair is a mess. He’s thinner than Dream remembers and Dream curses himself for not cooking more for Sapnap to eat.
“Sapnap,” Dream says, deciding to go straight to the point. He lifts the bottle of painkillers. “Have you been taking this?”
Sapnap’s gaze darts about as he searches for an excuse, a denial. He finds none, for he admits, “Yeah. I’m sorry…I can pay you back if—”
“That’s not the point,” Dream says, a little too sharply. Sapnap flinches. He lowers his voice as he moves further into the room, wanting Sapnap to know that he didn’t do anything wrong. “What’s wrong? Are you still having headaches?”
A pause. Then, Sapnap mumbles, “Yeah. Migraines. It’s kinda bad.”
“And you’re coughing too,” Dream says.
Sapnap starts to shake his head, but then he bursts into a fit of coughing, immediately proving Dream right. Dream waits until Sapnap’s coughing stops. And as Sapnap lowers his hand, he thinks he sees something dark on it—dark red, like, like—
“Sapnap.” He’s across the room in a heartbeat, gripping Sapnap’s wrist to see his hand. “Is that blood…”
It isn’t blood.
It’s a rose petal.
Dream is dumbfounded for a moment. He can feel Sapnap’s gaze burning into him, but Sapnap doesn’t explain.
Dream’s mind comes up with the only plausible explanation. “Have you been holding onto this?” He glances towards the trash bag of petals leaning against the wall. “Do you want me to help you throw it away?”
But when he tries to take the petal from Sapnap’s hand, Sapnap curls his fingers tighter over it, preventing him from doing so. “It’s fine,” Sapnap says and there is a rough edge to his voice, like Dream has done something wrong.
Dream doesn’t know what the hell he’s done wrong. All he knows is that Sapnap’s hiding something from him and he needs to find out what. “Sapnap—”
“I’m okay,” Sapnap cuts him off. “Really. It’s been a bad couple of days, but I’m feeling a lot better. I’m sorry about your painkillers.”
“No, Sapnap…” Dream tentatively sits on the edge of Sapnap’s bed. When Sapnap doesn’t protest, he shifts a little closer. “Stop apologising. That’s not what I’m concerned about. You’re not fine.”
Sapnap’s gaze sharpens into a glare. “I am.”
Dream ignores him. He looks around the room, searching for clues that will tell him just what Sapnap is struggling with. His gaze lands on the trash bag filled with rose petals, then on the single petal clutched in Sapnap’s hand.
“Is it the roses?” Dream asks. “Are you…allergic to them?”
Sapnap stiffens, but he doesn’t say anything for a moment, jaw working as he struggles to come up with an answer.
It is the roses. But how…why…
“It’s not,” Sapnap says firmly. As if to prove his point, he slides off the bed and crosses his room in a few quick steps. He shoves the single petal in his hand into the trash bag.
“Okay, then…what is it?”
Sapnap stays at the door, stubbornly turned away. It’s a clear message that he wants Dream to leave, but Dream isn’t going to. His best friend is sick and he’s just supposed to leave him alone? No way in hell.
“Sapnap, I’m worried about you,” Dream says, getting to his feet. He doesn’t close the distance between them. He doesn’t think Sapnap wants him near right now. “You’ve barely been yourself all week.”
“Dream,” Sapnap says loudly, sounding exasperated. “It’s like I’ve said—I haven’t been feeling well. I’ve had some migraines and coughing, but I really feel better now. So would you just drop it?”
“Okay, fine,” Dream relents. He doesn’t want to add to Sapnap’s unhappiness and possibly worsen his migraines or coughing or whatever it is he’s going through. Hopefully, though, he can find some other way to get Sapnap to talk to him about it. “But would you still be up for tonight?”
Sapnap blinks at him owlishly. “Tonight?” He repeats, confused.
Right. Dream should’ve seen this coming. Of course Sapnap won’t remember about tonight with how sick he’s been. And honestly, it’s Dream’s fault. He should’ve had the foresight to cancel their plans.
“My Mom and sister are coming over,” he says, watching the shock and then panic that overtakes Sapnap’s expression. “Wait, no—I’m sure they’ll be fine if I say something came up. They can always come another day.”
“No.” Sapnap shakes his head. “That’s too much trouble. It’s fine. I’m fine. Really. They can come. I’d like to see them too.”
Dream looks at him for a long moment, struggling to decipher if Sapnap means it. Just a few weeks ago, it would’ve been the easiest thing Dream did. Sapnap is a horrible liar. But for some reason, his lying skills have gotten a lot better in the time that he’s stayed with Dream.
Something about that doesn’t sit well with Dream.
“Are you sure—”
“Yes,” Sapnap says immediately, already backing out the door. “I’ll go wash up first and…yeah. I’m sure.”
He’s gone before Dream can get another word in, the sound of the bathroom door closing in his wake. Dream stands in Sapnap’s room for a moment, wondering if he should stay until Sapnap gets back so that he can try needling him further. But the worst case scenario is that Sapnap will simply shut him out and clam down, refusing to speak at all. Dream doesn’t want that, both for his own sake and Sapnap’s.
So, he heads to the kitchen, deciding to cook something for Sapnap. It’s the least he can do.
===
The rest of the day passes relatively well. As long as Dream doesn’t bring up the empty bottle of painkillers or the fact that Sapnap is still clearly not fine or the bag of rose petals that has been disposed of, Sapnap behaves just like his normal self. Save for the not so discreet coughing and the times where he leans his head against something, his hand, the armrest, anything within reach, and looks like he might just collapse from exhaustion.
Dream’s worry steadily climbs. It’s not fair that Sapnap’s making him worry so much, then getting upset with him for doing so. What does he expect Dream will do—just ignore how he so clearly needs help?
Dream even suggests a call with Karl, though something inside him twinges in jealousy at the notion. Since Sapnap claims he’s all fine now, maybe talking to Karl, the boy of his dreams, will lift his moods. But Sapnap declines even that. And, well, if Dream feels a little relieved about that, no one will ever have to know.
Instead, he asks if Sapnap wants to help him prepare dinner, which he never does. As much as he loves Sapnap, Sapnap’s cooking skills leave a lot to be desired. Sapnap knows this too, if the surprise on his face is any indication. He agrees.
So, for a while, preparing dinner helps to keep Dream’s mind off whatever transpired in Sapnap’s room. It almost makes the atmosphere between them feel normal. And after nearly a whole week of not seeing his best friend, Dream is grateful for it, even with the worries and troubles lurking unsaid at the corners of their little cooking bubble.
The preparation goes relatively unscathed, with Sapnap limited to the most basic things like cutting up vegetables and setting the table. Even then, Dream makes sure to keep a close eye on him. He doesn’t want Sapnap dealing with a cut from a knife on top of everything.
By the time the doorbell rings, the table is set and the food is ready. Dream and Sapnap have washed up and Sapnap has even used a little bit of make up to conceal the dark bags beneath his eyes. It doesn’t work very well, but hopefully Dream’s Mom and sister won’t be as discerning as Dream is.
Sapnap seems nervous as he waits for Dream to open the door. Right. It’s the first time he’ll be meeting Dream’s family in person. Though Dream has assured him time and time again that there’s nothing to be nervous about—Dream’s Mom will definitely love Sapnap and his sister will get along well with him too—Sapnap is naturally shy and usually worries more than he should about meeting new people.
“Hey,” Dream says softly, hand already on the door handle. “It’ll be fine.”
Sapnap manages a small smile. It doesn’t do much against the pale sallowness of his face, but it’s something.
Dream opens the door.
His Mom and sister ambush him with hugs. He returns them just as enthusiastically. It’s been a while since they’ve been over. They move on to Sapnap with equal vigour and something in Dream lightens when he sees the full smile that overtakes Sapnap’s face as he’s tugged into hugs.
“It’s great to finally get to meet you!” Dream’s Mom gushes, holding Sapnap by the shoulders. “You have no idea how much Dream talks about—”
“Mom,” Dream cuts her off quickly, shooting her a glare from behind Sapnap.
She seems to realise her mistake, though that doesn’t stop her from continuing with, “He was really excited for you to move in. He talked about it for weeks.”
“Mom.” Dream feels his face get hot, especially when Sapnap turns around to look at him, grinning. “Dinner’s ready. We should eat.”
This is enough to get Dream’s sister headed for the dining table. At least she isn’t set on embarrassing Dream in front of Sapnap.
“Okay, honey,” Mom says, clearly suppressing a laugh. “Let’s eat.”
Dinner is a quiet affair. It’s nice to catch up with his family after so many weeks of not seeing them. It’s not so nice to be witness to Dream’s Mom and sister dropping not so subtle hints to Sapnap about Dream’s crush on him. Thankfully, Sapnap seems to be as oblivious to it as he always is. He just laughs and joins in on the teasing.
Dream can’t help but wonder what Sapnap’s reaction will be if he knew that he was Dream’s crush. Would he blush too? Would he smile? Or would he turn away in mild panic, in mild disgust, because Dream is Sapnap’s best friend and they’re not supposed to like each other that way? Because he likes someone else—perfect freaking Karl, who—
“—Dream?”
He snaps out of it. “What?”
Everyone at the table is staring at him.
“Just asking if you need anything,” his Mom says. “We’re dropping by the store later. We can come by again after.”
“No, it’s fine.” Dream turns his attention back to his food so that everyone else will resume eating too. “Don’t really need anything right now.”
His mind drifts to the empty bottle of painkillers he discarded earlier today. But no, he can drive out to get that on his own. His Mom is likely to ask if he’s been feeling okay and he’s never been able to lie to her. If she goes down that track, there’s no doubt that he’ll spill about Sapnap’s migraines and coughing and his suspicions that Sapnap is unknowingly allergic to roses. He has a feeling Sapnap won’t like that, so he keeps his mouth shut.
After dinner, Dream and Sapnap entertain Dream’s sister by playing Nintendo Switch games with her. They ask his Mom to join in, but she only laughs and shakes her head, saying she needs the bathroom.
“Use the one upstairs, Mom,” Dream calls to her, attention fixed on the screen as he swerves his kart around a particularly sharp turn. “The one on this floor’s a little too cramped.”
She calls back an okay, disappearing up the stairs.
A minute later, Dream’s sister leaps from the couch, whooping. “Take that! I won! You guys suck.”
“I was distracted,” Dream objects. “Mom was talking to me.”
His sister rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Excuses.”
Sapnap doesn’t say anything. When Dream glances over at him, the worry that he’s been successfully suppressing spikes up instantly. The make-up Sapnap hastily put on before dinner can no longer conceal just how pale and drawn he looks, like it’s taking everything he has just to remain seated here playing video games with them.
He looks so uncomfortable, so unwell, that Dream quickly asks, “Sapnap? Are you—”
“Dream!” Comes his mother’s faint voice from upstairs. “Could you come here for a moment?”
“Hold on!” He yells back. He turns to Sapnap. “Sap, you—”
“I’m fine,” Sapnap says. He smiles, wide and full, but it looks so forced and Dream wants to— “—Your Mom’s calling you. I’ll keep your sister company.”
Dream still hesitates, even as his Mom calls for him again. His sister, getting impatient, says, “Quick, Dream. I want to start the next race.”
Sapnap’s looking at him like he wants Dream to go as well, so Dream, giving in, gets up from the couch. He doesn’t want to insist and put Sapnap in a spot in front of his sister. Anyway, if Sapnap’s okay enough to play video games, he should be okay until Dream’s Mom and sister leave. Then, Dream can corner him and question him until he stops lying.
“Mom?” Dream calls, headed for the bathroom. “I’m here. Why did you…” He trails off as she comes into view, standing in front of the trash can in the bathroom. There’s something in her hand.
A dark red splash, like the petal in Sapnap’s hand. Like the ones Dream picked up from around the house and kept in a pile on his desk until they rotted and he had to discard them.
“Mom?” He repeats, not understanding, wanting her to explain. Because it’s all just so weird.
It was when these petals started popping up that Sapnap started growing sick and distant. It was when Dream found out Sapnap has a secret obsession with roses, given how many he seems to be buying and how many trash bags full of petals he has to throw out. It was today, when Sapnap held that flower petal in his hand and looked at Dream like he did something wrong.
Dream doesn’t know what’s wrong.
And goddamn it, he wants to know.
“Dream,” she says and there is a shakiness in her voice, a glistening in her eyes that scares him. Something is very, very wrong. “Be honest with me, okay?”
He nods.
“Is this yours?”
That wasn’t the question he was expecting. To be honest, he had no idea what to expect, faced with his Mom holding a flower petal and treating it like it was important.
“No,” he says.
In that single word, it’s like watching something wound tight in his Mom instantly release. Her shoulders sag, hair falling to cover her face as she heaves out a deep sigh of relief, hand over her heart. Dream can only watch her, wondering how this links to anything, why she looks so very relieved, like she thought his life was in grave danger or something.
“Mom, what’s going on?”
She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she asks, “Then, it’s…it’s Sapnap’s?”
“Yeah. Apparently he really likes roses. I didn’t even know that. He’s been buying a lot and they’ve just been dropping their petals everywhere.”
For the longest moment, she just looks at him and he can’t, for the life of him, read the expression that has overtaken her face. He’s about to ask her what’s wrong again, about to plead her to just please, tell him what’s going on, because no one else will.
Then, quietly, she asks, “Is that what he told you?”
He blinks, once again not expecting this turn of conversation. “What?”
“Sapnap told you he’s been buying flowers, that’s why there’re petals around your house?”
“Um…yeah?” His Mom sounds doubtful, but Dream has no idea why she would be. Why will Sapnap even lie about this? And if he’s not buying flowers, where are the petals coming from?
“Dream…have you actually seen him buy flowers?”
Well…no. Dream has realised from the start that he’s never actually seen Sapnap come home with a bunch of roses. But he just assumed that Sapnap went out while Dream was locked away in his room, immersed in his own things.
Dream’s Mom reads the answer in his face. Something that looks a lot like sadness crosses her face.
“What…what is it?” He asks, fearing the answer. He takes her hand. “Mom, what’s wrong? Please tell me. Talk to me.”
There is a lengthy pause and her eyes shift about as she decides what she should say. Dream continues to stare at her, willing her to respond. He needs to know. He needs to know because he pictures Sapnap on his bed, pale and coughing, the dark bags beneath his eyes, the dark red petal in his hand—
“Dream,” his Mom says, commanding his attention back to her. He meets her gaze. And the next few words take the floor out from beneath his feet. “Have you ever heard of the Hanahaki Disease?”
===
Hanahaki Disease.
It’s the stuff of stories. Fiction. Unreal. It’s when someone falls in love with another, but the love is unrequited, and so the heart bleeds flowers that spill out through the throat. Eventually, as the unrequited love grows, so will the flowers, until they get so thick and intrusive that they choke a person to death.
The only cure is surgery. But when the flowers are removed, so is the person’s ability to love anyone else ever again.
It’s a cruel disease. One Dream should be suffering from as well, if it were real. One his Mom thought he had when she saw the dark petals in their bathroom trash can. One she thinks Sapnap has.
But it can’t be. Hanahaki actually exists? It’s not just some fictional disease made up by lovesick people longing for the loves of their lives?
It can’t be real. It can’t be. But…
Dream stares at the flower petals in his hand, scavenged from the bathroom trash can. His Mom and sister have long gone. It’s the dead of night and the house is quiet. Sapnap must be asleep, for Dream doesn’t hear him coughing.
There’s only Dream, the petals and his Mom’s words circling over and over again in his head.
You have to talk to him about this, Dream, she said, all seriousness. Like she knows without a doubt that Hanahaki is real. He’s only going to get worse and by then—by then it’ll be too late.
But it just sounds so ridiculous, Dream doesn’t know where to start. Just barge into Sapnap’s room once again and demand if he has the Hanahaki Disease? Confirm if it’s Karl he’s in love with? Find some way to help him fall out of love with Karl?
It’s all just so…unimaginable.
So, in a bid to try making sense of the petals in his house and what his Mom has told him, Dream turns to the one source of information that is supposed to hold all the answers—the internet.
A quick search of ‘Hanahaki Disease’ comes up with the usual definition—a disease of the heart, when one falls prey to unrequited love and starts coughing up flowers. A few sites say it’s a purely fictional disease. Some claim it’s real. Some have people detailing the stories of their friends who have died to this disease. Others demand proof.
God. Dream clicks and clicks and clicks. Can one site just show him some definite proof of this disease?
He could call his Mom, drill her for information until she tells him why she thinks it’s real. But it’s past midnight and he doesn’t want to disturb her. He could go to Sapnap’s room and just ask him, but he must be sleeping and Dream doesn’t want to disturb him either. Also, he has a feeling that even if Sapnap does have Hanahaki, he won’t admit it. Not to Dream, at least.
While he’s stuck in his head about what to do, since the internet is proving useless, he stumbles upon a site. A Reddit post, actually, from this girl who claims that her best friend has just recovered from Hanahaki. There are a ton of comments and threads which Dream goes through obsessively, but each one doesn’t reveal much about the disease itself. They only reveal that hundreds of users on Reddit also believe that the Hanahaki Disease is real.
And because Dream is so desperate for answers, he doesn’t think as he quickly types a comment and presses enter.
dreamistaken: is hanahaki real? i’m worried about my friend who might have it, but he won’t tell me if that’s what he’s struggling with.
The user must be very active on Reddit, for her reply comes in only minutes later.
oblivionflowers: yes it is. and it’s horrible.
Well. Not very convincing.
dreamistaken: how can i find out if that’s what he’s going through?
oblivionflowers: maybe do some research online before coming to a reddit post that’s not supposed to be about whether the disease is real.
He pauses, fingers on the keyboard. Then, he types again and sends.
dreamistaken: i’m sorry. i’m just very worried for my friend.
A few minutes pass, much longer than the spaces between the user’s last responses. Then, she sends another message.
oblivionflowers: are there petals in his room? take one and look at it. really look at it.
He picks up the petal he set on the desk when he started using his laptop, examining it beneath the artificial fluorescence of his desk lamp. Now that he’s looking so closely, he realises the petal isn’t a uniform dark red. Instead, the bottom half is a much darker red and there’s a faint line across the petal between the different shades, like it was stained by something. Like—
Another ping signals that the user has replied again.
oblivionflowers: blood. the petals they cough up has blood on them.
Dream stares at the petal in his hand. At the—the blood. There’s nothing else that can explain what that odd darker stain on the petal is.
It’s blood, pure and simple.
Dream’s Mom was right.
Sapnap has the Hanahaki Disease. And if there’s anything Dream has learnt from the past hour of trawling through the internet, it’s that most people who get this disease die from it.
No. No. Sapnap can’t—he can’t—
He’s out his room before he can even register moving, flying across the space between their doors, busting right into Sapnap’s room. Sapnap sits bolt upright and it’s hard to see his face in the dimness of his room, but his tone is clear enough as he shouts, “What the hell, Dream? What’s going on?”
Dream doesn’t respond fast enough, standing there, staring at Sapnap and wishing he were wrong.
There are more petals. Dozens of them littering Sapnap’s bed. His floor.
And all he can think about is the dozens of texts detailing how people with Hanahaki die. Choking on petals, on blood, with the memories of their unrequited love flooding their mind.
Dream will not—cannot—allow that for Sapnap.
“Hanahaki,” he blurts out. “Is that what this is?”
It’s like his words suck all the air out of the room. Sapnap stares at him, pale and frozen, and Dream already knows he’s right.
Sapnap has Hanahaki. Sapnap has Hanahaki. Sapnap has Hanahaki and now he’s going to die. He’s going to die, he’s going to die, he’s going to—
“What the hell are you talking about?” Sapnap asks and Dream can’t read the tone of his voice, can’t identify the expression on his face. It’s like there is a stranger in Sapnap’s bed.
“Hanahaki,” Dream repeats, not sure why he needs Sapnap to confirm it, just praying desperately that he’s wrong. “You have Hanahaki. That’s why you’ve been sick. Why you’ve been taking painkillers. Why you have all these petals in your room—”
“You’re insane,” Sapnap cuts him off and his words steal all the air from Dream’s lungs.
“What?” Dream asks faintly, feeling strangely wounded.
“I said, you’re insane,” Sapnap enunciates clearly and the words are stabs to Dream’s heart. “Hanahaki isn’t real. It’s fiction. It’s fantasy. You’re delusional.”
But the petals. The coughing. The girl on the internet who said, blood, the petals they cough up has blood on them.
“Seriously, Dream, when’re you going to stop daydreaming all the time?”
Dream flinches, not just because of the words, but because of the harsh way Sapnap flung them at him. He still can’t read Sapnap’s expression, still doesn’t know what has come over his friend that has made him look so…so foreign.
“Some of us have better things to do than sit around and let our imaginations get the better of us,” Sapnap snaps. “Please leave. I need to sleep.”
He doesn’t wait for Dream to actually leave before slumping back down on the bed and pulling the covers up high, turning his back pointedly. Dream stands there for a moment, dumbfounded, hurt. Here he was, thinking that if Sapnap has Hanahaki, even if it’s for someone else, he’ll still be here for him, supporting him, finding out whatever ways he can to help him through it.
He leaves before Sapnap can snap at him again, on a blind surge back to his own room. He collapses onto his bed. He realises the petal is still clutched in his hand, crushed now from how hard he was gripping it. He hastily smoothens it out.
He knows he’s not seeing things. There’s blood on this petal. There are no roses in Sapnap’s room. This came from him—he has Hanahaki. And if he doesn’t want to admit it, then fine. Dream can understand. If he had Hanahaki…well, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. Probably not want to admit it too.
But even if Sapnap doesn’t want Dream’s help, it doesn’t mean Dream’s just going to let him be. He isn’t going to sit back and watch Sapnap waste away, choking out flowers every hour and every second, if there’s something he can do about it.
Suddenly filled with purpose, he grabs his phone from the bedside table and pulls up his contact list. If it’s not Karl that Sapnap likes, there’s still a bunch of mutual male friends that they have. He’s going to go down the whole list and find out who it is. Somehow. Someway.
Maybe that won’t help Sapnap at all. But it might be a start. And at this point, with the memory of the dozens of rose petals littering Sapnap’s room fresh in his mind, Dream is willing to try just about anything.