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George always wondered about how soft lips with recently shaven stubble would feel against the remnants of his quarantine facial hair.
But he’s not gay. He’s never put himself in that sort of position to think that he was, never allowed himself to have those thoughts that were slightly alluring in nature. George couldn’t deny it after a while, he couldn’t deny what his fan base had been telling him for years.
It’s intoxicating just how addictive the thoughts are, and how much George just wants to give into them.
Dreamnotfound! Do you think George and Dream will kiss when they meet up?
No, you idiot, SNF will definitely kiss when they meet up! Did you hear Sapnap’s going to London to see George? That’s a bit…
I think Karl and George would make a pretty cool couple. Wouldn’t it be so amazing for them to just get to hang out together?
It’s all over his Twitter timeline, somehow even on his TikTok For You page. His “monthly” check of Archive of Our Own fics soon became weekly as he continued finding fics of him being embraced in either Dream, Sapnap or Karl’s arms, being held so softly that he cried over how lonely he actually was.
It was insufferable how his heart broke into thousands of tiny pieces and managed to put the pieces back into place, although, creating an imperfect shape of a heart. Well, a metaphorical one, at least.
He ruffles his hair between his fingers, small strands getting stuck under his nails as he stressfully combs through his locks. He stands in the airport, he anxiously plucks away at his sweater, and chews his nails, waiting for the arrival.
It’s crowded as always, people rush past him, he’s invisible to those who come and go, but he hopes that he’s full of colour and life to the people he wants to see most.
Karl. And. Sapnap.
George wanted to see both of them. He just had this undeniable sense of urgency to just cuddle up to them? He couldn’t describe the feeling. He desired that connection that he saw between them, off stream and on. The way Karl would just wrap his arms around Sapnap’s neck, and lean his chin against the crown of the Texan’s head.
George wanted that. He wanted to be both Karl and Sapnap and to have both Karl and Sapnap treat him so sweetly. He was indecisive, but that made sense because he couldn’t decide which one we liked more.
He saw brunette curls pop out from a one-of-a-kind hat he knew to be Sapnap’s on a head taller than George could anticipate to be Sapnap, so he knew it had to be Karl.
The cap slipped off the other’s head and brown eyes traced the reaction of the pair as the crowd seemingly broke and he could finally watch the pair walk towards the exit, and walk towards him.
Karl’s smile grew wider as their eyes connected with each other. George felt his heart beat faster and faster, nerves getting the better of the warmth in his cheeks and buckling of his knees.
George’s brain twirls, creating hiccups and this small feeling in his chest that he can’t quite place.
“George!” Sapnap screams, tackling the British man to the ground. And once again, George’s heart beats faster. The small curls and devil horns poke out from his signature hat. His smile is wider than ever, wider than when he assumes Sapnap met up with Dream.
“ Sapnap!” He smiles back. George wants tease the younger man, continue their fighty dynamic, but George can’t bring himself to insult the other. “Hop off! You’re squishing me!”
As Sapnap picks himself – and George – off of the ground, Karl wraps his arms around the pair of them.
“Karl!” Karl says, not wanting to feel excluded.
“Karl!” George exclaims, embracing the other back in the group hug they have going on. “You guys are finally here! Holy shit.”
The last part is a mutter under his breath, his brain is doing loopy-dee-loops going around in heart shapes like a roller coaster. George has never understood the concept of butterflies, but he can feel teeny tiny flutters perk up against his stomach, warming it with a sense of nausea.
“Yeah!” Sapnap smiled. “Finally.”
Bags rolled onto the concrete, whiplash of cold air hitting warm cheeks, shivers casting down their spines. George’s arm reaches high up, calling his way for a taxi. It’s a stretch he desperately needed, his bones and muscles tired with days of missed sleep.
The suitcases were packed into the trunk of the taxi, and an address was typed into the GPS. The drive was quiet, full of open thoughts that George didn’t want to admit to. Sitting between the pair of them made cold sweats flood against his skin.
It aches within him, it’s this tight feeling that bubbles inside him. It claws inside him, and he wants it to burst out.
Gatwick Airport isn’t a far distance from his downtown London flat. It’s big enough for just him, but not for three. Not for three grown men. And not for three grown men that probably wouldn’t be keen on sleeping in the same bed.
It’s not ideal to say the least, but Karl and Sapnap don’t mind. After all, George’s bed is a super king, and while it’s useless for his normally sound sleep, it comes in handy when two other people are joining him.
“So there’s the couch?”
“I call dibs on the bed!” Karl shouts.
“Aww that’s not fair,” Sapnap pouts, his arms crossed around his chest. His bottom lip puffing out and George doesn’t want to restrain himself, but he does. He always will.
“Hey! Hey! The bed’s big enough for the both of you. I’ve got some cushions you can stick between each other if that makes you feel better.”
“I don’t know, George. I don’t want to kick you from your bed,” Karl sighs.
“That’s literally what you were just about to do,” George retorts. Karl giggles. It’s this melody, it’s alto in nature, but the occasional soprano note slips in, adding harmony to it.
“But George,” Karl whines.
“I’ll be fine,” George assures. “The couch is comfortable.”
“No! Georgie! We can all fit in the same bed!” Sapnap starts, before his own blush reddens his face and then mutters, “If you’re comfortable with that.”
“Uh- yeah,” George stammers. “Yeah, that’s fine.”
“Wooo! Sleepover!”
“Yeah!” Karl reinforces with a smile.
—
Hours go by, with George playing on his phone, and Karl and Sapnap recovering from the jetlag as they slept on George’s silk sheets and satin pillows. He almost wanted to join them, but he knew if he did, he would never want to leave.
George is not attracted to Karl and Sapnap, he just desires that closeness that he's been denied for the past two or more years. He just wants them to hug him and show that he deserves that love that they’ve been able to experience without him. That platonic love.
It itches through his skin, that need to be close. Skin against skin. Dark chocolate locks that shuffle against auburn horns and ruffle against light brunette curls. It's soft as hair would tangle together but unravel quickly under London moonlight and American fingers.
“George,” Karl yawns, walking out of the bedroom into the warm lighting of the living room. “I'm hungry. What time is it?”
“It's about 8,” George replied looking at the time on his phone, before closing it and putting it down. “Did you wanna get take out for dinner?”
“Yeah, sure. What do you recommend?”
“Hmm,” He thought. “There's a pretty good Thai place or we could get some McDonald's. Or pizza?”
“Pizza, maybe? Probably the safest option,” Karl giggled.
“Yeah, of course! Hawaiian? Supreme? Cheesy garlic?”
“Meat Lovers? Maybe?” Karl suggests. “We can always get more than one.”
“Sure. Do you know what Sapnap likes?”
“Hawaiian,” Karl answers confidently.
“Cool, so a meat lovers, a Hawaiian and a cheesy garlic?”
“Yeah, sounds good!” Karl smiles. “Should I go wake up Sapnap?”
“Yeah, please do.”
Karl exits the room, and George can hear the soft thuds of his feet against the grey carpet. A loud noise, the sound of a spring, echoes out and he hears the muffled giggles of Sapnap and Karl.
George rushes to the room, hoping to get in on the joke, and he does. He watches as Karl and Sapnap giggle at each other with a smile, Karl sitting on top of Sapnap over the sheets and poking the dimples on his face.
“Georgie! You're here!” Sapnap sleepily says. “Kiss me!”
Karl giggles and George nervously joins in with his own symphony. It's calming, the way that Sapnap’s grabby hands reach for him and he reaches back, allowing himself to be pulled into Sapnap’s warm - albeit sweaty - body.
It was this new kind of flutter in his stomach, it was more active like it was trying to escape. The way his mind quickly flashed to how his lips would feel against Sapnap’s. How Karl’s hands would feel wrapping around his body, holding him tight.
His eyes flickered away from Sapnap’s lips, despite how much more George wanted to keep looking at them, observing every crack and wrinkle, every shift of colour and texture. The way Sapnap’s cupid bow flows well against his face, and moves easily when he speaks.
“George,” Sapnap hums, breaking the British man's train of thought.
“Sapnap,” George whispers.
“Is this okay?” He asks, reaching his hands to creep behind George’s back, playing with the cotton threads of his shirt.
George nods, he's speechless. His throat goes dry, words become nothingness in his mouth. He's curious more than anything, but the voice in his head keeps telling him that he's always wanted this, that he's always been like this, and finally he allows himself to listen to the thoughts, to give in.
Their lips meet like equals, Sapnap’s softer than he thought although drier than George's pre-licked lips. It's more than George could have ever imagined and Sapnap’s hands begin to wander down the other's spine.
George's face is pulled away from Sapnap's by a stranger's hand, although it wasn't that strange when his eyes caught attention with Karl’s green ones.
“Can I kiss you too, George?” It's nothing but a whisper, it's nervous and yet it makes George shiver with a nod, allowing himself to give into his dreams, into what he had been suppressing his whole life.
Karl's lips are just how he imagined them to be in his forbidden thoughts only a few seconds a go, a chapstick freshly pressed on with watermelon flavours salivating around their lips. It's soft, they're both soft. Sapnap’s lips steal him away from Karl's but the taller just moved his ministrations to George’s neck. Moving the hoodie away and creating the most beautiful of purple roses against his throat, bruises that would be there for days, but George didn't mind.
‘Didn’t mind’ would be a lie as he thoroughly enjoyed being loved, being cared for, for once during this pandemic. And finally he had it.
It stopped, they were tired. They all needed a well deserved break, not only to regain energy but to allow George to come to terms with what just happened. But he had already come to terms with it.
He slipped under the bed sheets between the two, Texan and New Yorker fingers slipped through his hair, whispering sweet nothings as he drifted off into sleep.
George finally had something, had someone, had some people. And he wouldn't let them go. After all, he was in love.
He was in love under London light.