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Sapnap was, to put it bluntly, very fucking stressed.
He knew that there was no way that the house wouldn’t be at least a little awkward after his return, but he honestly wasn’t sure how to handle the eggshells that Dream and George seemed to be walking on around him.
To be honest, he knew it was kinda his fault. He’d returned home to the best hug of his life, and as soon as Dream had opened his mouth, Sapnap had panicked. Instead of the long conversation that he knew they all needed to have, he’d asked “can we just talk later? I’m not really feeling up for it right now.” Dream had nodded with the most gentle look on his face, and pulled him and George back to the bed, where they’d all fallen into a pile for a mid-afternoon nap.
Dream hadn’t tried to start the conversation again, waiting on Sapnap to make the first move. And George was never the one to be direct, least willing to express emotions first. So they’d fallen into an uncomfortable routine, Dream and George touching him gently on the shoulders in the morning, hugging him deeper before bed, but never asking him to stay. And Sapnap didn’t want to overstay his welcome.
He knew they wanted him in some way. They wanted him in their home, they wanted him as a friend at the very least. But he’d never gotten confirmation if they wanted him in any other way, and their relationship was so new that he didn’t want to put any more stress on it than he already had. So he resigned himself to uncomfortable casual intimacy and locking himself into his room every night, blasting music through his headphones until they drowned out his thoughts.
“Sap,” sighed Karl one night after a stream, noticing that George and Dream had left the vc in an awkward haste, “have you talked to them yet?”
Sapnap shook his head, refusing to meet Karl’s eyes through the camera, instead fiddling with his water bottle that he needed to refill before bed. “No I just… don’t know how to start. Like, it's almost been so long that I don’t even know how to bring it up at this point.”
Karl nodded in understanding. “I get it man, that is rough. But just think about how much better you’d feel if you knew. I’m sure they’d feel the same.”
Karl was obviously right, he knew it, but he just didn’t know how to do anything about it. And what if it went wrong, like he knew that they cared about him and wanted him around but what if they didn’t actually want him around, what if they didn’t actually care about him and the last week where he’d been so unable to act normal had screwed up everything and now they actually hated him and—there was a knock on his door.
Karl, who had been watching him spiral for the last few seconds, snapped his mouth shut as a quiet “hey Sap?” filtered through the door and apparently, Sapnap’s microphone. Karl just shook his head when Sapnap went to say something and hung up. Quickly a discord notification popped up that just said “TALK TO THEM” quickly followed by “and talk to me later if you need to.”
Another sigh, but why not. He could always run back to North Carolina if he needed to.
“Yeah Dream, come in,” he called back.
As Dream walked into the room, not quite meeting the younger’s eyes, and threw himself onto Sapnap’s unmade bed, Sapnap flashed back to the last time they had been in this position, or at least a similar one.
When Sapnap had laid in his bed, Dream sitting in the gaming chair that Sapnap currently resided in, and Sapnap had been certain he’d blown up his whole life with his admittance that he loved his two best friends. It felt like so long ago, had it really only been a few weeks? But he shook himself quickly from that thought. This wasn’t like last time—for one, their positions were reversed—but also the last time, Sapnap had sprung a revelation on Dream, and this time, they both knew the conversation was coming.
That didn’t make it any easier, Sapnap learned, as they both sat in silence, not quite looking at each other, and searching for the words to say.
A quiet, “fuck” from Dream broke the tension, and suddenly the youngest was laughing, in the way that one does when they’re uncomfortable and don’t know what to say, but also in a familiar way, because this was Dream, his best friend, and they’d laughed together for years.
“Yeah,” Sapnap whispered back once he settled, “fuck. I don’t even know where to begin, man.”
Dream’s turn to laugh quickly, before “me either, to be honest. And I don’t want to push you—the last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable, I’m still just so happy that you’re home—but I think, if you’re okay with it, we do have to talk.”
Sapnap nodded. “No, I know, and I think I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Sorry I made you wait so long, didn’t know how to bring it up.” A hum of understanding sounded from the bed. “Should we… should we talk all three of us, or is it okay just you and I?” Not that Sapnap didn’t want George there, of course he did, he loved them both and, no matter how this conversation went, it would impact all three of them… but at the same time, he knew it would be harder with all three of them, another set of eyes to watch his every reaction.
Dream and George, it seems, had understood that. “If you want him here, absolutely I can get him. But he and I talked, and you know how he is with emotions. We figured it might be easier if I just came as an emissary for both of us.”
“Damn Dream, emissary, that’s a big word. Learn it from all of the lore?” Sapnap couldn’t help but joke.
“Fuck off, Sap,” the blond groaned, sitting up from his lounging position against the pillows to reach an—unnaturally, if you asked Sapnap—long arm out to shove at the other’s shoulder. “No but seriously, he’s fine with being here if you want him here, he’s just in the living room.”
Sapnap just shook his head, appreciating the offer but deciding it would be much more comfortable with Dream acting as emissary for the couple. “No, you guys were right. I’d probably be a lot more anxious.” Quiet bled through the room as the two realized that the pre-conversation was over, no more discussing needing to be done about how they would talk. So dumb, Sapnap thought, that they needed to talk about how they were going to talk. But oh well, time for nothing.
“Okay, so let's talk.”
***
“Do you still like us?” Yes.
“How?” What do you mean?
“Like, I get that you’re… attracted to us… but is it like, more than that? We realized we never knew for sure.” Oh, yeah. More than that.
“Oh cool.” Cool?
“Yeah, cool. I… feel the same.”
And Sapnap deflates. “You feel the same? Not George.” A statement. He knew it would’ve been a "we" if it had been both of them. And now Dream is apparently in this position where both of his best friends are in love with him, and he loves them back, but the triangle doesn’t connect, not fully.
He’d never really considered it before, but the term love triangle made no sense. It implied all sides were connected. But what would be better? Some weird math term he hadn’t thought about since high school? A love… ray? Admittedly it didn’t sound as good, but at least it was accurate.
Dream sighed, pulling Sapnap out of his spiraling thoughts about trigonometry or geometry or whatever, how was this even what he was thinking about right now? and back to the present, where, oh yeah. George didn’t love him. Cool
“It's not that he doesn’t care about you. You know he does. But… he’s nervous. We’re still so new,” a gesture between the blond himself and the living room, “that he’s not sure how… all three of us would work.”
Logical, really. Isn’t that the same argument that Sapnap had made to Karl just hours ago, certain that talking wouldn’t lead to a big, happy threesome? “No, I get it. And I’m sorry, so fucking sorry, Dream, that I put all of this on you guys. I know that this had to be stressful for your relationship, and it's so new… that’s never what I wanted to do. It's why I planned on just never telling you guys.” Sapnap looked away, fighting down stupid tears. He knew this was how it was going to go. Why did it still hurt?
But as Dream opened his mouth to respond, there was a knock on the door, and his attention shifted. “Not yet George, we’re still talking,” he called out, eyes still locked on the youngest in front of him.
George, apparently, didn’t care, and the door opened anyway. “No, fuck you,” came the accented voice, and Sapnap hurt even worse. What, did he want to reject him himself?
The oldest made his way into the room, walking straight to Sapnap, and crouching on the floor in front of him, trying to force his way into Sapnap’s eyeline. “This is the last time,” he threw over his shoulder at the blond, “I let you play emissary. Sap,” attention redirected at the youngest who, fuck, could not stop the tears from slowly running down his face, despite now looking at the wall to avoid George’s gaze, “I didn’t say I didn’t love you. Dream said it wrong. I do. I’m just nervous about all three of us, and I don’t want to rush into anything. If we do this, I want to take it really slow, that’s all.”
The words seemed to take forever to process in Sapnap’s brain, still so certain a rejection was coming. But then “I just hadn’t gotten to that part, you impatient idiot,” came from the bed, and it started clicking. Oh, he wasn’t being flat out rejected. Dream just hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, or something. Had wanted to ease him into the idea of not jumping straight into... whatever they could be, eventually.
He should say something, say he understands. Say he’s afraid too, that he has no clue how it will work with all of them. Say that slow is more than enough, he’s in no way ready to join them in bed, but maybe more cuddling on the couch would be cool?
But he’s not fast enough, he can’t find the words. And George is rounding on Dream, one hand placed on Sapnap’s knee as he turns, in order to keep his balance. A scoff, such a well known sound, somehow sounding British even though it's just a huff of air. “He’s crying, Dream. Clearly, you weren’t getting there fast enough.”
At least Sapnap’s concern that he’d be scrutinized by two sets of eyes proved to be false, as he finally looked over at the blond again, who was staring directly at George. “You didn’t even give me a chance. What, were you waiting at the door, just listening for me to screw up?”
George’s tone was borderline cold as he bit back, “No, I decided I wanted to be here too, to have a part in this conversation that involves me, but ‘you know how I am with emotions’ apparently.”
Silence. Patches could jump from a table in another room and they’d all hear it clear as an anvil hitting the ground, Sapnap was sure. He didn’t even dare breathe, throat choked up as his thoughts took an unexpected 180 from I’m being rejected to they’re fighting because of me. They’re fighting again, and it's all my fault.
Dream stood up from the bed, and Sapnap was so certain he would walk out the door and head to his room, slamming his own door behind him as he used to do so often before they had gotten together.
But he didn’t. A hand was reached to George, and George took it, allowing himself to be pulled up from his crouched position and into the taller’s arms. Whispered words made their way between the two, too quiet for Sapnap to hear.
George’s hands unlinked from around Dream’s neck, running down his arms as he pulled out of the hug after a moment. Sapnap watched, wide eyed from emotional whiplash and shock, as fingers linked together instead. And then they were both turning to face him, and he was far too overwhelmed to try to hide the drying tear tracks on his cheeks.
A sigh. “This is why, Sap.” The Brit’s voice was tired, but clearly fond. “You know how we were before we were together. We fought all the time for a bit there, and just couldn’t figure out how to communicate in person. That hasn’t gone away. We’re working on it, but it still happens, and I don’t want you caught in the middle of our shit.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry Sap, I didn’t say it well, George is right.” Dream was reaching for him, hand outstretched, an offer of… apology? acceptance? Sapnap wasn’t sure, but he found himself reaching out as well, allowing himself to be pulled up from the chair and into the two men standing in front of him, immediately wrapped in a hug.
“We both love you, Sap. We just want to do it right. For all of us.”
Maybe, maybe, things would be okay.
***
Things didn’t change much, immediately following the conversation that, admittedly, could’ve gone better on all three of their parts. Sapnap still slept in his own room most of the time, George and Dream still acted as a couple, making out on the couch late at night before heading off to bed together.
But they all cuddled more during movie nights, Sapnap even falling asleep between the two in Dream’s bed occasionally, and dinners frequently felt less like required imbibing of sustenance and more like dates, with candles and steaks that Dream tried to cook himself, before calling his mom for assistance in guiding him.
Karl, at least, seemed very happy with the progress. He’d been there since day one, had heard all about the fighting that almost tore the three of them apart, so when Sapnap explained that they were taking it slow, that George and Dream were working on getting better at talking to and not at each other, he’d agreed that maybe it would be best to let them figure that out first. “Although I’m sorry Sap, I know it sucks to still kinda be in limbo. At least you know where you stand.”
And Sapnap agreed wholeheartedly. He had known George and Dream weren’t the best at communicating like functional adults, but he didn’t know how much it had carried over into their relationship. He’d assumed that the worst of it had been resolved when the tension had lightened, that the real reason they’d been fighting a month ago was that they were both just too stubborn to say “I love you” first. But oh well, they were working on it, together.
Now that Sapnap knew the fighting was still going on, he heard it more. He wasn’t sure if the other two had been hiding it before, or if he had just missed it. And it wasn’t as bad as it had been before, obviously. There were no screaming matches in the living room, ending with one or both crying on the couch. Now it was a few sharp words, poised to slice like knives, before being blunted at the last second with the consideration for the other’s feelings.
They no longer slammed doors or hid away, they sat and they sighed and they talked. “I’m sorry” was whispered freely across the kitchen. “I should’ve remembered” was pressed into heated necks during hugs.
Slowly, so slowly, things changed.
***
Sapnap figured he should probably just admit that he was a full time Valo streamer at this point. If it wasn’t for MCC, he’d barely even use his Minecraft account, especially considering Dream and George hadn’t been up to much on the “being a content creator” front recently, too wrapped up in figuring themselves out.
Anyways, another late night alt stream complete, Punz and Foolish staying logged on to keep grinding as Sapnap gave into exhaustion and admitted it was time to call it a night. Turning off his computer completely after sending his viewers off to Foolish’s stream, he grabbed his water bottle off his desk to refill and headed to the kitchen for a snack.
He didn’t expect the lights to be on in the living room at half past one, but he assumed maybe the other two had left them on by accident before going to bed. He’d turn them off on his way back to his room, he decided, before finishing the trip to the kitchen.
He almost jumped out of his skin as small hands snaked their way around his waist as he stood at the sink. “Fuck, George, where the hell did you come from?”
The oldest giggled lightly, resting his head against the only slightly shorter, thank you very much man’s shoulder. “I was laying on the couch. Wanted to try to catch you after you were done with Valorant. Sorry I scared you.”
Flipping the tap off and dragging the still clinging Brit with him to the fridge, Sapnap finally felt the adrenaline from the scare easing out of his shoulders. “Oh, sorry it went so late. You could've texted me and I would’ve ended.” And he would’ve. He loved Punz and Foolish, they were some of his best friends, and damn did he love the rush that came with competitive games like Valorant, but it all paled in comparison to knowing that George had been sitting and waiting for him, potentially screwing up his sleep schedule.
“No, no,” the oldest mumbled, face still pressed to the back of Sap’s shoulder, “I didn’t want to interrupt. And it's not super important or anything, just wondered if we could talk, if you’re not too tired.”
Sapnap nodded even though he wasn’t sure if the oldest could see it, and guided him to the living room, depositing his grapes and water bottle on the coffee table before unlooping George’s arms from around him and pushing him back on the couch. “What’s up?” he asked, reaching to pull George against his side as he settled down.
But George pushed back a bit, creating a bit of distance between the two, and turned to face the youngest. “It's nothing bad, I promise,” he reassured at the panicked expression that Sapnap felt run across his face before he was able to settle it, “and I’m sorry I didn’t ask about this earlier, but it's just been in the back of my mind and I can’t ignore it like I thought I could.”
Sapnap just nods, wide awake now, and yeah, he believed George when he said nothing bad but like… what was so important that it couldn’t wait until morning?
A deep breath. “Okay so… like I said, I know it's been a while and I’m sorry I didn’t say something sooner, but that night that we all talked. You didn’t want me there. And I’m sure it's just because it was easier that way and Dream could handle the talking for both of us… but I just have to ask if it was more than that.” George won’t look at him, instead focusing on his own hands where they twist together in his lap. “Like I said, I’m sorry, its stupid, it's just my brain. And you and Dream have so much more time together, and sometimes it just feels like without him, there’s no us. I know you care about me, and I care about you too, so much, but I just… Why didn’t you want me there, Sap?”
Now this was unexpected. Sapnap had never thought, never even considered, that George could feel this way. And he almost didn’t have the words to explain how he was feeling that night, because the main thing he remembers from that night is the rollercoaster of emotions he was sent on.
So he pulls the brunette into a hug instead. George isn’t crying, as his eyes meet Sapnap’s as they pull together, but there’s a wetness in them that makes the younger’s heart clench and makes him feel so guilty that this is his fault.
“George, no,” he starts, hands moving through hair and across sweatshirts in comfort, “I’m so sorry. I was just so nervous… and I thought I was about to be rejected. I thought there was no way we’d end up as more than friends. It just seemed… easier,” a shrug, “to keep my emotions to myself, if it was just one of you.”
He felt the Brit nod into his shoulder, hands gripping tight at the sweatshirt around Sapnap’s waist. “I know, I understand, I thought so too, at first. But then it was just… you guys, and me, separate, and then ‘you know how he is about emotions’ and it's not like that’s not true but I’m trying and I just wanted to make sure you didn’t feel that way still and you said me being there would make you anxious and I just… that wasn’t because it was me, was it? Like, if it had been the other way around and I was talking to you, you still would’ve been nervous if Dream wanted to come in? I just—“
Sapnap stopped his rambling by pulling back and placing a kiss on the older’s forehead. “No, that was not George specific, I promise.” He could almost feel it, the press of eyes watching as he bit down on his tears, his own eyes stinging from rejection. God, that night had been hard, before George had come in and set the record straight, and if they both had been there, and if the rejection had been real… well, Sapnap was pretty sure he wouldn’t even have waited to pack a bag and get a plane ticket before he was on his way back to North Carolina to lick his wounds. He’d have driven, hell, he’d have run if that’s what it would’ve taken. Sure, he knows after the last time that he would've come back, but still, he's aware of himself to admit he probably would've run first.
But no, that’s not what happened. And George was right here in front of him, still wrapped loosely in his arms, airing his own insecurities. “George. Look at me. Please?”
Deep brown eyes flashed open, still shiny from unshed tears, but not quite as scared anymore. “Yeah, Sap?”
“I love you. I’m sorry I made you feel at all insecure, and I love you so damn much. That was a me thing, not a you thing, I promise.”
A nod. “Can I sleep with you in your room tonight?”
“Yeah, of course.”
Things were getting better. So much better.
***
George was still asleep when Sapnap made his way into the kitchen the following morning, snatching up the grapes from their forgotten place on the coffee table as he went. Dream was already awake and cooking pancakes when passed through the doorway to the tiled room.
“Morning, Sap,” he said, pulling the shorter into a hug and planting a kiss on the top of what Sapnap was sure was awful bedhead, “George sleep with you last night?” There was an air of insecurity around the blond, clearly unsure about where his boyfriend had ended up.
Sapnap nodded into his collarbone, yawning as he stretched up to place his arms on the taller’s shoulders. George had told him that he’d talked to Dream while he waited for Sapnap to be done streaming, explained he likely wouldn’t be coming to their shared bedroom as there was something he wanted to talk to the youngest about, but he hadn’t said what. And while Sapnap knew that Dream wouldn’t judge or push or anything, it still wasn’t his place to tell Dream what they’d talked about, to air the Brit’s insecurities across their kitchen. So instead, he just said “yeah, we’re all good. It was a good talk,” and smiled a happy smile up at the other.
Dream just smiled in return, his whole face lighting up and the slight unease that had surrounded him falling away like a blanket pushed to the floor. And damn if Sapnap didn’t think that smile could rival the morning sun that was pushing through the windows.
“Good, I’m glad.” He half-released Sapnap from the hug in order to reach over and flip the cooking pancakes, but immediately brought his hand back to the younger’s waist, returning his eyes to lock onto Sapnap’s.
Something shifted in the air. Sapnap felt it. Not in a bad way, oh no, in the best way possible. The air rushing through the cracked window seemed to grow both thicker and thinner simultaneously, leaving Sapnap light headed and completely unable to pull breath into his lungs.
Even before Dream moved one hand to his face and asked, “Can I kiss you?” Sapnap knew the question was coming.
He didn’t answer, didn’t even try. He knew his voice wouldn’t make it past parched lips. Instead, he pressed himself up onto his toes, using his hands to pull Dream down to meet him halfway.
And fuck, fireworks.
Well no, not really. Sapnap knew that was just a trope and the kiss was just the press of lips between the two and there was no way that it could have that type of impact or make that type of feeling… but still. The world seemed to snap around, something righting itself in the universe. It felt like the type of feeling that he got from watching fireworks crackle across the sky, or watching the sunrise, or being bathed in sunlight. Awe, comfort, home.
“Fuck,” whispered out a voice, sounding just as in awe as Sapnap felt. For a fraction of a second, Sapnap wondered how Dream had been able to talk with their lips still pressed together. Because yeah, fuck was right.
But no, that wasn’t Dream, Dream was currently pulling back from him, one hand still resting on his waist, the other rubbing across his cheek bone. Dream was opening his eyes—when had Sapnap opened his own?—and looking across the island of the kitchen to George, who was leaning on the doorway.
“Morning, George,” the blond whispered, and Sapnap almost didn’t believe it but his smile had gotten even more blinding, even more wide. Everything was still for a second, George’s eyes the only thing moving as they ran over both faces opposite him in the kitchen. Sapnap thought he was about to say something, mouth curving into a smile of his own before opening to whisper—
“Fuck I think the pancakes are burning!” yelped out Dream, and yup, that was definitely the smell of burning food, shit.
And the moment was over, but as the three ate the previously cooked, unburnt pancakes around the island of the kitchen, the smiling never stopped.
***
The day passed slowly, no plans for streams or videos to impact their day. They had a merch meeting in the early afternoon, but they all piled into Dream’s room for it, pulling the microphone as far as it would go away from the speakers so they could all hear without giving the merch team any unwanted noise.
But then the meeting was over, and they all piled back out into the living room, grabbing food and settling on the couch. Dream sat himself comfortably in the middle of the other two, pulling them in to rest on his chest, arms slung over shoulders.
Sapnap reached across the blond, twining his fingers through George’s. Anime played on the tv and fuck, he couldn’t be happier.
***
Sapnap could be happier, he realized as Dream extracted himself from the cuddle puddle to take a shower, leaving Sapnap and George on the couch. Because while they’d spent the day cuddled up, Dream leaning over every so often to press a kiss to his hair, cheek, mouth, Sapnap hadn’t kissed George yet. And that just wouldn't do.
Night had fallen in the time they’d let the tv play, intermittently watching it and taking breaks to whisper to the others about how happy they were. Yellow light from streetlights filtered through the sheer curtains along the front wall, creating pools of light that Patches seemed content to curl up in, even if they didn’t bring the same heat as the sun.
George had moved at some point while Sapnap was lost in thought, shuffling across the distance that Dream had left between them, placing his hand back in the younger’s, twining their fingers together. And when Sapnap turned his head to look at the other, George was already looking back.
Unlike Dream, George didn’t say anything, didn’t move, just locked his chocolate eyes onto the hazel, and Sapnap decided it was his turn. “George,” he whispered, quiet as if he could burst the bubble of peace that surrounded them, “can I kiss you?”
And unlike Sapnap earlier, George did answer, nodding his head in permission. Sapnap leaned in, slanting his lips over the older's.
Yup, fireworks.
But again, not. Kissing George was watching moonlight ripple across an almost still pond, was listening to slow music in a dark room. It was the feeling of curling up under a warm blanket on a cold day. And while yes, kissing the two boys couldn’t be more different, Sapnap realized it was exactly the same.
Awe, comfort, home.
Damn, he was so happy he was home.