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Beer tasted like fire on his tongue, wiring around his mouth with a lick of his lips and a swallow. A hand brushed the excess liquid from his chin as it dribbled down, and he let a wry laugh escape his lips.
Rarely did he find himself drinking, but it was eleven months of Nick living with him, so it was only appropriate that they acted accordingly. And, Sapnap, being the little shit he was, practically begged Dream to break his pattern of being tee-total just to celebrate. Who was he not to give into his best friend?
They were about five drinks in by the time conversation of any substance had arisen. Until then, topics had ranged from Twitter drama, the new lore for the SMP, and Dream’s mom’s cooking. Any dumb stuff that had come to mind among giggles and scrolling through tiktok.
“Honestly, I can see why they all ship you and George,” Nick muttered as he switched off his phone with a roll of his eyes. “Jesus, you guys flirt like a married couple half the time. On and off stream, in different ways.”
Mouth agape, Dream nudged Sapnap in the ribs with an elbow. “Okay, what do you mean by different ways then, genius?”
In between small guffaws, Sapnap flashes Dream his best doe eyes and starts mimicking his voice terribly, “Oh, Nick, do you think it’s worth getting George some blue bed sheets? No, Nick, I’d rather not meet all of my best friends, I’m saving myself for George. Don’t these white glasses remind you of George, my beloved? My gogy-”
“I have not said any of those things!” Dream argued, shoving Sapnap into the pillow of his bed.
“Well, I’m paraphrasing, you basically have.”
Many conversations they had mentioned George. Especially with his arrival into their home becoming such a soon thing. Barely three months, if all went well. Although neither of them would admit it, they were both on edge. Wanting everything to be perfect for him, as impossible as that was. Even Sapnap sent lists for George to remember about all of the little things he’d learnt from living with Dream. One time, Dream had caught him rambling into his phone, describing the way that Dream will only have cucumbers if they’re cut like cylinders, not thin circular shapes. The fond tone of his voice was unmistakable, and it had almost made Dream’s whole day.
Often it took this direction of mocking Dream over his obsession with their other friend. Always Sapnap ganging up on him, doubling down on him about it.
Tonight, though, they were drunk, and Dream refused to just laugh it off and forget.
“Okay then, riddle me this: If I was saving myself for George, why did I let you live with me ages before?”
Expecting the question, Nick raised an eyebrow. It made his eyes squint a little, giving the impression that his full focus was on Dream. Maybe it was. “Well, it’s not as if you can pluck the guy from London in the middle of a pandemic, is it? You’d have had him move in years ago if you had the option.”
Now, it was a debate, and Dream wanted to win.
“Alright, reasonable. But if that was my mentality, wouldn’t I just say fuck it and meet up with everyone? I wanted you to live with me, Sap. Before George. Only you and nobody else. Simple as that.”
Shrugging in exasperation, Sapnap’s eyebrows furrowed. “You weren’t this bothered by cleaning and shit when I moved in though.”
“I’ve known you for nine years, I didn’t have to be.”
“You’ve known George for five, and yet you are.”
A hand curved around Sapnap’s jaw, so he could meet the other’s eye. “Are you jealous?”
Taken by surprise, Sapnap fell still. After a pause, he gave a tilt of his head. When Dream pointed out that that indicated nothing, he whispered so quietly Dream had to strain to hear him. “I mean, imagine what the Internet would say if I told them you kiss me goodnight on the forehead.”
What was supposed to be a light hearted comment fell flat in Sapnap’s nervousness, but Dream did him the favor of going along with it. “Without photographic proof? They wouldn’t believe you. We called each other brother once.”
Stung slightly, Nick reeled back a little. “Yeah, I dunno why. You’re not like my brother.” To which Dream nodded. Never had they really considered each other anything. In explaining Sapnap to his mom when he was thirteen, he’d described him as an online friend. To George five years ago, he’d called him his closest friend. On the internet, they were roommates that had a close bond. None of them felt right, but that was unquestioned mostly.
“Do you want me to flirt with you live more often?” Dream asked tentatively, trying to gauge Sapnap’s discomfort. Usually, they’d have danced around the topic and moved on with relieved grins by now. Drunkenness spelled out another predicament entirely. Hands had dropped from Sapnap’s face to pool in Dream’s own lap seconds before, yet he was met with silence nonetheless.
“Not sure.” Nick relented. “Maybe?” uncertain as before, he collapsed into himself with another roll of his eyes.
Being this tense was out of character for him. Majorly so. Getting upset, or angry, Dream had witnessed both of these on his best friend’s face a million times in a million contexts. His fists raised just to hit his desk when they failed a round of bedwars as teenagers. His thin voice when he veiled tears over one of his cats growing illness. Those emotions all registered with Sapnap as Dream knew him. This bizarre closed off one was new. New meant a challenge. If it were anyone but Nick, Dream wouldn’t try to figure him out, but he had to.
“I don’t know, man. Really, I don’t. It just feels weird, being the odd one out in a trio, especially when there was a time when you treated me like you do George. Undivided attention, y’know? I mean,” he corrected himself with a clearing off his throat and a hiccup, “not that I’m an attention whore or you owe me anything, George is great, s’just different now. Like I’m being forced to watch your love story without being able to stop it.”
Suddenly, Dream understood what was being tugged at from the silence hanging over them.
“You think I’m going to fall in love with George, and forget you?”
Nick huffed. “I mean, sure.”
“Why are you not agreeing?”
Like he had touched a live wire, Dream felt Sapnap move back, a pained expression on his face. They stared at one another, one bemused and the other undeniably scared. Feeble. Made to look so small; entirely unlike himself, shrunken.
“What if I wanted you to care that much about me?” And it made so much sense it made none at all. Fingers splayed on Nick’s shoulders, wordlessly encouraging him to explain. That Dream understood that this wasn’t a normal drunk exaggerated problem. Whatever Sapnap was about to say would change things. Permanently, if the strain behind his eyes was telling.
Fuck it. Dream wore things on his sleeve already. Loved like Icarus, willing to take the fall. If it ruined things, so what? Bring on the plunge.
He gestured at Sapnap to carry on, drawing his thoughts back to a recent stream. They had both been playing Jackbox, although nobody other than Alex was streaming. Someone had usually mentioned DNF, and Karl had said something along the lines of “Wouldn’t want to be Nick when they move in. It’ll be like a constant fan fiction reenacted.” All of them had laughed, and Dream had spoken non-stop about George. Because it was funny. And it made people laugh. And George seemed to hate the flirty dynamic the least, so it was logical to ramp it up the most with him.
In the few hours after the stream, he’d ordered pizza, and the two of them were splitting as usual. Normally, Nick would answer the door in some variation of a hoodie and pyjama bottoms and Dream would emerge from his room shirtless and they’d make the most of whatever was on Netflix at the time. Even if it was terrible, Subpoena had such a contagious laugh that his ongoing ridicule made it worth it.
That day however, he’d had to get the pizza at the door, and endure an innocent middle aged man witness his bare chest on a Tuesday night. Then he’d had to cut the pizza in half, knock on Sapnap’s door, and drop it off. He hadn’t even let Dream in, he just mumbled a thanks when the food was deposited on his bedside table with cutlery and a hand-written note, as Dream always put with dinner. It read “9 months tomorrow, the baby is almost due!” with a smiley face on. Distantly, he’d heard a giggle, but no indication that he wouldn’t be eating by himself.
Things made too much sense and still none at all as Sapnap kept speaking.
“Maybe I wish you would think of me the way you do him. Instead of calling him into the night you’d come into my room and we could gossip about meaningless stuff, just to hear my voice and know that I wasn’t leaving. Know that you had considered painting a room orange because you knew it was my favourite colour. I wish people listened to the way you spoke to me, and thought, ‘God, that sounds like a man in love’. So that then at least I wouldn’t be the only one wishing it were true.”
Taking in a breath, it was obvious that Nick felt lighter the second the words left his body. Like it had been tying him up in knots, and he was desperate to unravel himself. Eyes softening their gaze to search Dream for any discernible response. Together they waited for Dream to string together a sentence from the remainder of nine years of caring. A care that ran far deeper than he had initially been expecting.
“I honestly thought you liked Karl.” Dream mumbled, a smile spreading across his face as he realised how ridiculous their predicament was.
Seemingly in agreement, Sapnap burst into hysterical laughter, having to gasp for breath to stabilize himself again. “You really thought that? Karl’s great, I love him. But like that? Absolutely not. First of all, he’s straight. Second of all, he’s not you.”
On those words, Dream knew his fingers had travelled down Sapnap’s back to rest on either side of his waist. Suddenly, he realised that they had been moving towards each other for the last couple minutes, knees brushing against each other tentatively. They were two far away for their noses to touch, but not by much.
Over baited breath, Dream confessed what he’d always known. “I’ve never loved George, Nick. Never have, never will.”
Trembling hands rested on his shoulder as a forearm wrapped around his neck. Their fates were sealed. Not that either of them were complaining.
“Didn’t you tweet about kissing the homies once?”
Dream scoffed, pushing a stray hair out of his friend’s face. “Nobody meant their offers. Very slash jay. I was majorly disappointed.”
Their noses bumped together awkwardly, a snort of amusement followed. “I responded, Dream.”
Breath tangible on his bottom lip, Dream resisted the urge to swipe his thumb across Nick’s jawline, just to feel the smooth edge of his face, and the slight tingle of hairs prickling against his touch. That was for another time. Now, his gaze was flicking up and down, and down further on Sapnap’s face. Right down to his lips. And he was staring, that he knew. He didn’t have the energy to care, and seemingly neither did Sapnap, who muttered, “Well, it’s not gay.” in a low slightly drunk and dazed voice.
That was all it took for Dream to press their lips together. Chastely, like it wasn’t meant to last. Which it wasn’t, as Dream pulled away after less than a second. Just long enough to know he wanted to do it again.
Voice wavering, Sapnap whispered, “So, to confirm, no homo-
Which got interrupted by lips brushing on his, firmer than before. A small “mmph'' noise somewhere between a grunt and a hum of surprise made Sapnap’s head lull back for a moment. To help him gain balance, he clutched at the collar of Dream’s shirt, tugging their bodies closer together. The force of the motion made their knees crash together, and Sapnap had to move instead to be sitting on top of Dream’s thighs.
Breaking them apart for a moment, between pants Dream uttered, “Oh, so that’s what you wanted? Alright then.” before changing their position so Nick was in his lap.
“Oh, go suck a dick!” Sapnap spoke through gritted teeth.
“I’ll take you up on that offer.” he said back, burying his hands in Sapnap’s hair so he could pull them back closer.
Crashing back together with a slick passion, Dream made quick work of parting his friend’s lips, tongue moving everywhere he got the chance. Hopefully it wouldn’t, but it could be the only chance they had of this. Go out with a bang or don’t try, after all.
When fingers dug into his back, and lips parted with a small gasp elicited from Nick, it occurred to Dream that his roommate looked more handsome like this. Hair completely fucked, cheeks a carmine red, breath running thin as his ears turned ghostly white. It suited him.
“Oh my god.” Although he said it under his breath, Dream couldn’t focus on anything else, and the words brought his full attention. “You’re a good kisser.”
The same dumb grin flitted across his face as before. “It’s my stock and trade, baby boy.”
Nick looked like he was winded for a second. Then he burst out laughing. “Baby boy? You sound like the guy in 365 days, dipshit.”
Ignoring the fact that he had just stuck his tongue down the other’s throat, Dream found himself burying his head in Sapnap’s neck to conceal his laughter. As the other looked down to face him with a look that could only be described as amused curiosity, he pressed a quick kiss to the man’s jugular. In return, he got to revel in the way his friend’s eyes widened, and his hands gravitated to Dream’s jaw. Guiding him with shallow breaths.
Gently, Dream mapped out Sapnap’s skin. Pressing kisses where his jaw met his neck, just above his collarbone. Wherever he was given access. He glided his lips across each, figuring out what skin was the most sensitive, feeling when Sapnap’s breathing would become heavier, and his grip on Dream’s neck became more desperate. Like he was clinging on for dear life. Like Dream was his lifeline.
Teeth digging into the softest parts of his skin, leaving Sapnap’s breathing ragged and wrecked, Dream wondered if he would leave marks. Almost definitely. Would Sapnap cover them? Spin at them with a whisk so next time he did a face cam stream they would go unnoticed. Or would he wear them with pride, cause his chat to go ballistic, and have fun with the whole world knowing someone was his. Judging by the low rumble of “Jesus Christ, Dream” he probably didn’t even realise he’d let slip, the latter.
Removing the latch he had on Sapnap, he raised his head to bring their foreheads together, both out of breath, dazed, and destined to be more than a little hungover the next day. Damn them both for being lightweights.
“Well that was…” Nick confessed, “something I’m never gonna forget.”
Still smiling, Dream pressed an awkward kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Wouldn’t let you forget it if you wanted to.”
More silence overcame them. “So… is pizza on me tomorrow?”
Dream sighed. “No, dipshit. Happy eleven months here. Cheers to many more.”
Nick snickered. “Cheers? You’ve gotta stop talking to George so much, you sound so goddamn British.”
“Oh, do you only love true Southern men?”
“You bet I do, baby.” and they smiled into a soft kiss, through which Dream knew the upcoming anniversary would mark the best year of his life. No matter who knew, what people thought, or whatever weird stuff they said to each other, his best friend was in his arms and he was floating above the clouds. Drunk off his face, but floating nonetheless.
This was enough for him.