Archive of Our Own

Dream had always hated the big blowout parties he was invited to as a popular musician.

He wasn’t asocial by any means - he was outgoing and charismatic if anything - but they were just so draining. The ballroom was huge, overwhelmingly so with a high vaulted ceiling with glittering chandeliers and large glass doors across from the corner he was hunkered down in. Socialites vying for his attention, smaller and bigger musicians alike trying to network, and a bustling staff touting drinks and snacks. The suit he wore transitioned from well-fitted to stuffy, the tailored sleeves long past appreciated and reaching too much. He pulled a face as he swished the champagne flute he was handed, trying to find a free table to dump it on after taking a fake sip of the drink.

“Not your taste?” a sudden voice asked and he startled, jerking his hand to keep the flute from tipping over entirely. It sloshed up to the brim, a few drops spilling over, and a goofy giggle came from over his shoulder. “Oh, my bad.”

Dream turned around with a frown, opening his mouth to reply, when he caught sight of the man giving him a teasing grin.

Of course, he knew Karl Jacobs, everyone knew Karl Jacobs. The lead singer of a popular boy band with a charming personality and an even more charming smile, he was a national heartthrob well on his way to a global heartthrob. He had stormy eyes, blue light enough to look gray, and they matched the neat gray tuxedo he wore, bowtie missing with the top two buttons undone. When he rocked from one foot to the other, the material shifted and metallic pinstripes shone in the light, a similar shade of silver to the rings and thin necklace he wore. His hair was as wild as it ever was, a mess of loose dark curls and caramel highlights, and when he leaned in, Dream’s gaze caught on his lips, soft and pink.

He was breathtaking, in short.

Dream’s younger sister had two posters of him and his band on her wall and a small photo of just Karl in her locker. Dream himself had a few posters of theirs folded up in his desk drawers, half-teasing gifts from his friends after getting caught one too many times listening to their albums on loop.

He tried very hard to write it off as him just liking their music. The way his brain went entirely blank at seeing Karl contradicted this claim, speechless from attractive man.

Karl gave him a moment, head tilted just a bit, before he spoke again. “You’re Dream, right? You write country music.”

“Country pop,” he corrected on instinct and Karl nodded, eyes lighting up at the sound of his face. He raised his hand, trying to get his brain back to action. “I mean, country works too! Or just pop. Uh. Hi, nice to meet you. You’re Karl Jacobs.”

“Oh, so you know me.” Karl giggled again, taking his hand and shaking it with both of his. Dream was pretty sure his heart was going to pound out of his chest. “As I was saying, you don’t like champagne?”

Dream blinked and glanced at the drink still in his left hand, swishing it around. “Oh, uh, yeah. I don’t really drink alcohol in general but the producer I was talking to handed it to me and I thought it’d be rude to say no.”

“Gotcha.” Karl snatched the flute away and threw it back, drinking all of it in one go. Just as fast, he turned and placed the empty glass onto the tray of a passing waitstaff. “There you go! Problem solved.”

“It can’t be healthy to drink alcohol that quickly,” Dream said and Karl shook his head, looking back at him. His grin was stunning and when he reached up to push his hair back, his nails sparkled.

“It’s only 12 percent, it’s fine. I will definitely be having something harder later on.” Karl winked. Dream was too busy watching the silver on his nails to fully dive into that implication. “Oh, you like my nail polish? Look, look, there’s golden flecks.”

Karl offered his hand and Dream took it, careful as he pulled it closer to his face. The party wasn’t brightly lit and he had to tilt Karl’s hand back and forth to catch the light again. The nail polish was glittery, bright silver dots with smaller golden flecks mixed in, as promised. Dream admired the silver color, then glanced up to meet Karl’s gaze, taking in the equally dazzling blue-gray.

“They remind me of your eyes,” he said and Karl’s face flushed light pink. Dream mimed kissing Karl’s knuckles, giving him a wink in return, and Karl rolled those pretty eyes as he took his hand back.

“You’re too sweet,” he said, rubbing the heel of his palm against his cheek before dropping his hand to his side. Karl bounced on his heels and started walking, fingers catching on the end of Dream’s sleeve to tug him along. “Have the producers been all over you tonight? They like, will not leave me alone. I got so sick of it that I told them that Punz had some brilliant song idea and booked it.”

“I’ve been avoiding them by hanging around the actors,” Dream said and Karl nodded, fast-paced and eager.

“Right, right! You’re close friends with that actor guy, Sapnap!”

“Wow, do you just have my entire Wikipedia page memorized?” Dream teased and Karl shook his head. He was still grinning and Dream realized all of a sudden that he had no idea where Karl was leading him, just letting the other drag him along.

“I just pay attention to your social media. You guys do a lot of appearances together. You’re actually friends, right? I’d be embarrassed if it was actually some publicity stunt that I fell for.” Karl paused to snatch some snacks off of a food table they passed, collecting a small pile of fancy crackers and cheese cubes. Dream laughed, carefully restrained, and Karl looked back up at him. “What?”

“Yes, Sapnap and I are actually friends,” he said, the corners of his mouth starting to ache. He hadn’t even noticed that he had been beaming. “We’re best friends, we were friends before either of us was famous.”

“Oh my God, that’s so cute!” Karl stuffed one of the crackers in his mouth and started walking again. Dream followed without question. “People ask me that all the time about Punz and Foolish, like, if we can stand each other in reality, you know? Especially since we were just crammed together by talent managers in high school.”

“And do you?” Dream asked, taking a quick step forward to walk by his side instead of trailing after him. Karl bumped against his side, light enough that it was hard to tell if it was on purpose or not.

“When we were still in high school, no. Punz hated that I was the frontman and Foolish just wanted to play drums.” Karl laughed, loud and free in a way that Dream never let his own be. A few heads turned to look at them curiously and Dream shifted closer to Karl’s side. The other didn’t even notice, just chattering on as he picked at his cheese cubes. “Once we were no longer horrible hormonal horrors though, yeah! We’re like, tight now.”

“Horrible hormonal horrors,” Dream repeated and Karl popped a cube into his mouth with an agreeing hum. “Yeah, that sounds like most boy bands.”

“Exactly!” Karl said around his food. Dream cringed and Karl slapped a hand over his mouth, eyes going wide. “Sorry.”

He turned, pushing his shoulder against the door they had reached, and Dream finally thought to look at their surroundings. Karl had led him across the room to the large glass doors leading out to the balcony, the night air settling over them as they stepped out of the stuffy room. The balcony was long, taken up mostly by people smoking alone or chatting in small pairs. Karl wrapped his arm around Dream’s elbow and guided him to an empty spot along the railing, overlooking a vast lake. The moon glimmered in the water and Dream drank in the sight for a moment, leaning forward against the rail.

“Enchanting, huh?” Karl said and Dream nodded.

“It’s gorgeous.”

“Just like you,” Karl flirted and Dream glanced back at him with warm cheeks. “I was really excited to see you, you know. You’re like, an inspiration.”

“Lofty praise coming from you,” Dream replied, giving him a soft smile. “National heartthrob Karl Jacobs, finding me inspirational?”

“You’re more popular than I am!” Karl laughed, that loud cheery laugh again that made Dream jealous of how open he was. He wondered if he could ever laugh so genuinely in front of the world. “Everybody loves your stuff, it’s so universally enjoyable. You’re the classic American boy and all.”

“You’re pretty, though,” Dream said before he could stop himself and Karl’s eyes crinkled in the corners as he beamed. The rest seemed to tumble out of his mouth like a dam bursting. “Seriously, like- your eyes are a really pretty color, I dunno why they make them bluer in promotional art, I think they’re lovely, and your hair is always a mess but it’s cute. Your nails are nicely painted all the time and they match your outfit so nicely tonight and you have a really lovely smile. Like, your mere presence makes me happier when you smile. I have some of your posters, my friends think I’m obsessed with you so they keep buying them for me. I guess they’re not totally wrong, I sort of am obsessed with you. Your voice is incredible, I love your band. I was really into boy bands when I was a kid, they were kind of my sexual awakening, and you guys are like, I dunno, nostalgic to me because of that? I adore your work.”

Karl’s smile didn’t fade even as baby pink spread across his face, giving an almost shy giggle. “That’s… wow.”

“I’m sorry, that’s a lot,” Dream said, jerking upright and waving his hands, and Karl just shook his head.

“No, no, that’s really sweet. It means a lot to meet a fan.” He gave a teasing wink. “You’re adorable, seriously, that’s so cute. I’m glad. Your work means a lot to me too, even if I would not be able to put it as prettily as you did! I know we act as if we all put out music, but I’m definitely not the one writing my band’s songs.”

Dream gave an awkward laugh, eyes sliding away, and Karl grabbed one of his hands in both of his. Dream’s gaze snapped back to him, flushing as he stepped closer and smiled up at Dream.

“You’re incredibly talented and even if I don’t know how to express it, I’m just as grateful to be able to talk to you,” he said. His eyes seemed to sparkle in the moonlight and Dream was fixed in place, overly aware of how close they were together. “I’d love to keep talking to you, if that’s alright? Like, your number or email or something?”

Dream struggled to respond for a moment, wonderstruck by the silvery blue of his eyes, when a loud voice cut in.

“Karl, get your ass over here!”

Karl jolted away, startled as he wheeled around. There was a moment as he processed then he frowned, yelling back, “fuck off, Punz, I’ll be there in a second!”

So Karl’s bandmates were just as bold as he was. Dream let out a soft wheeze, clapping his hand over his mouth, and Karl shot a single finger gun at him.

“We’ll talk later. See you around, Dream!”

He hustled off and Dream watched, amazed by the way that light seemed to be drawn to him as he went back inside. He leaned against the railing, overly warm in the cool night air.

Later couldn’t come soon enough.

Dream was a busy man, and he knew Karl had to be just as distracted, so he tried to not be bothered when no contact was established within the first week. He threw himself into his writing, producing, and working on his newest album. He kept an eye on his Twitter DMs and made sure his assistant was paying attention to his emails. He met with his producers and marketing team. He stalked Karl’s social media and wondered if he ran it himself. He ran last-minute ideas by his manager. He wrote Karl a song.

He wrote Karl a song.

It poured out of him just as fast as his dumb impulsive rambling at Karl, jotting down notes and lyrics like a man possessed. It was drafted within the week, all ready to run by his people and get up to snuff. He couldn’t help but play it again and again, the same intense chords and feelings whenever he had a free moment.

“This is me praying that,” he sang to himself, barely audible over the sound of his guitar. He was in his living room, a music stand set up where his coffee table usually was so that he could practice the same song for the fiftieth time. “This was the very first page, not where the story ends- no, no.”

He clicked his tongue, playing the chord again.

“Not where the story line ends,” he corrected and jumped when there was a round of applause. He snapped his head up, meeting eyes with two beaming faces. “When the fuck did you two get in here?”

“A few minutes ago,” Sapnap answered.

“What are you singing? I don’t recognize it. I know all of your songs.” George dropped to sit next to him without even asking, grabbing the papers he was playing off of. “‘Enchanted’? That’s cute.”

“It’s new. Let go of that.” Dream snatched the papers back, groaning when Sapnap just took them from his hands within seconds. “You two are so annoying, you know that?”

“These lyrics are really pretty,” Sapnap said, scanning the music, and Dream looked away pointedly. As he expected, his best friend followed up with, “you don’t usually write love songs, any particular inspiration?”

It would’ve been easy to say no. Deny it, say he just thought of some pretty words, and move on. As pushy as his friends were, he was even more stubborn.

Unbidden, he said, “Karl Jacobs?”

George scoffed. “Seriously?”

At the same time, Sapnap lit up in realization. “I thought I saw you guys talking at that gala last week!”

“You talked to Karl Jacobs and you didn’t tell me?!” George took the papers back, reading the lyrics with more focus. “You guys always leave me out of the loop, oh my God.”

“Hey, I tell you everything important,” Dream defended himself weakly.

“Try getting famous,” Sapnap taunted and George reached out without looking to bop him on the back of the head. “Ow- hey!”

“I didn’t hit you that hard.” George pulled his eyes away from the papers to level Dream with a flat look. “I’d say meeting Karl fucking Jacobs is important.”

Dream sighed, slouching back in his couch seat. “Well- I dunno, I didn’t know how to bring it up without sounding hopeless.”

“Oh, brother.”

“No, please, sound hopeless, I wanna make fun of you.”

Dream was silent for a moment, pouting at them before he caved.

“He was really nice,” he started slowly, eyes sliding away as his face warmed. “Some guy gave me alcohol and Karl just downed it for me which was like, funny I guess, but he was also super goofy while doing it. It was cute. He shakes hands with both of his and his nails were the prettiest shiniest silver I’ve ever seen-“

“Oh, brother,” Sapnap said, louder this time, and George thumped him again.

“He talked with his mouth full but apologized for it,” Dream continued, words picking up the pace. “That shouldn’t be sweet, but it really was. I didn’t even say it was gross, just made a face, and he said ‘sorry’ anyways. He laughs so freely. It’s like he doesn’t even care if anyone is watching, he just acts how he wants to, he’s so confident. He said I’m enchanting or maybe gorgeous and an inspiration and- well, then I went on a rant about how much I liked him, and then he was really flustered and left.”

George choked. Sapnap burst out into painful-sounding laughter.

“You’re so useless,” Sapnap wheezed and Dream spluttered, covering his face.

“He said he thought it was cute! It wasn’t weird!”

“That’s so weird,” George said, shoving the lyric sheets back onto Dream’s music stand. “And now you’re writing him a song, you absolute stalker!”

Dream opened his mouth to defend himself then cringed, eyes dropping down to the lyrics. He could feel himself deflate in that kicked dog way he was so good at and it only took Sapnap about ten seconds before he cracked.

“No, it’s not stalkery, shut up. That’s cute, it’s really cute, Dream,” Sapnap reassured him quickly, wrapping his arm around Dream’s back. “The song is really sweet too, I love the lyrics! I think he’ll find it really flattering.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t tell him it’s about him,” Dream said, slumping back, and George sighed. “I mean, like, he said he’d reach out and message me and he never did, what if I freaked him out?”

“Send it to him. You don’t gotta say it’s about him specifically, but at least send it to him. If you weirded him out, then he can just ignore it, but at least give him the chance to reach out.” George cuffed him on the shoulder, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be such a baby.”

Dream bit his lip, unsure, but his shoulders relaxed when Sapnap let his head fall against Dream’s shoulder. The familiar warmth of his best friend was reassuring and he nodded after a moment.

“Alright, yeah. I’ll send it to him.”

To: Karl Jacobs
From: Dream
Subject line: New song :)

Hey Karl,

Thought you might be interested in this single I dropped, it’ll be on my upcoming album :) Let me know what you think! No pressure to, though. Hope everything’s going well for you and the band.

Thanks,
Dream

He didn’t get a response to his email for a couple of weeks, just cringing whenever he remembered the embarrassing moment.

Okay, so he overstepped. That’s fine! It happened to everyone sometimes. The single took off anyway, the fans loved it, and nobody except George and Sapnap knew who it was about, so it was fine. Wasn’t this what happened with Hey There, Delilah? A love song that wasn’t actually received by the recipient? That song was a global hit. Dream would be fine, even if every time he was reminded of the sent email, he cringed.

Whatever. It was fine. He’d live.

Then George frantically stormed into his house, Dream’s spare key dangling from his hand.

“When did you get that?”

“Dream, did you see YouTube?!” George asked without answering, grabbing Dream’s laptop off of the coffee table and carrying it to where Dream was in the kitchen. Dream blinked at him, crunching on the cereal he had poured in front of him.

“I should take away your security access,” Dream said and George once again ignored him, opening Dream’s laptop and slamming in his password. “See what happens when my bodyguard starts apprehending you for breaking into my home.”

“Your security likes me better than they do you,” George said, typing something into YouTube before turning it to shove at Dream. “Watch this video!”

Dream’s eyes lowered to his screen, nearly choking on his Cheerios when he saw the video’s title.

Enchanted by Dream Cover <3 by Karl Jacobs.

“No fucking way,” he muttered once he swallowed, rubbing his throat when the bite went down not quite chewed enough. “What?”

“Watch it, watch it, watch it,” George chanted and Dream shoved his cereal aside to check out the video.

It was clearly filmed from home, none of the flashy lighting or camera work that Karl’s band usually used for their videos. It was just Karl sitting on his couch with an electric piano sitting in front of him, fingers tapping against the plastic casing and admitting to nervous energy. Behind the camera, someone with a gruff voice - Punz, probably? - said, “you’re all set,” and Karl lit up.

“Okay, awesome! Thanks, dude.” Karl nodded and there was a shuffling noise as the other stepped away from the camera. “Uh, hi! Hi, Dream, hopefully you see this. Not to like, embarrass you, but the subject of your new single was pretty obvious to me and I thought it would only be right for me to respond with my own cover. I hope this isn’t too late.”

“Of course it’s not too late,” Dream said as if Karl could hear, and George scoffed. He shoved at his shoulder, eyes still locked on his screen even as his best friend let out an annoyed squawk.

“I don’t usually sing alone,” Karl said, nerves he never usually showed shining through in the way he giggled. Dream leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm as he watched Karl adjust his piano. The camera quality was grainy, but the microphone was clear as he continued, “so like, go easy on me. I just really needed to reply.”

“Just play, Karl.”

“Shut up!”

And play he did. Dream’s eyes widened as Karl sang his lyrics, adjusted to the higher key that Karl sang in, entranced by the way that his fingers danced across his piano keys. Dream always loved watching Karl play, the way he seemed to put his entire body into his music, swaying to the music and bobbing his head along, but it was even more magical when it was Dream’s love song for him that he was singing. His eyes seemed to sparkle even more than usual, less human and more fairy as he moved through the song.

“Oh Dre-eam,” Karl sang, off the original lyrics, and Dream felt like the air in his lungs was punched out. ”I was so enchanted to meet you, too.”

The rest of the song seemed to blur together past that, a trance of a beautiful boy singing his name. Dream could feel his heartbeat in his chest, could feel how hot his face grew. He slumped back in his chair as the song concluded, Karl peering up from his piano with a shy giggle.

“Anyways, I should really reply to your email soon, huh?” Karl tucked some of his hair behind one ear, cheeks a brilliant pink as he tilted his head into the motion. “I'll hear from you soon, hopefully! Bye!”

The video cut out there and Dream was left to blink at his laptop, struggling to form any words. His mind just danced with the imagery of Karl singing his song, the way he blushed, how Karl seemed just as flustered now as he did at Dream’s initial word vomit about how amazing he was.

“So, like, do you have a boyfriend now?” George asked, cutting into his thick mind fog, and Dream let out a low wheezing laugh.

“I- maybe? I, I need to message him. Fuck. Oh my God.” Dream’s hands scrambled to pull his laptop closer, fingers flying across the keys, and George moved to hover over his shoulder. Together, they constructed a second email.

To: Karl Jacobs
From: Dream
Subject line: Enchanted

Hi Karl,

You never replied to my last email but I suppose that was your response? You sing beautifully and I’m so flattered that you liked the song I wrote for you. No, I’m not involved with anyone else at the moment.

Maybe we should go on a date sometime? Get back to me when you can and we can try and arrange something. Here’s my phone number: (xxx) xxx-xxxx so that you can contact me there, instead.

Talk soon,
Dream

To: Dream
From: Karl Jacobs
Subject line: re:Enchanted

Hi Dream!!!

I’d be honored. I’ll text you :)

Affectionately yours,
Karl