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The stutter of eyes when it meets and the breath of relief after holding back for a minute too long, here is a story about two guys, obliviously in love.
His finger grazes over the old locker, punching in his passcode, pulling it hard so the door would open. His eyes filled with tiredness, his hands heavy with books, and his brain fuzzy.
It's a normal school day with people in groups laughing and chattering out loud, ones who sit in the corner with headphones on, ones who are hastily finishing breakfast while taking books out of the small locker, ones who are oddly cheerily at seven am in the morning.
Arms found their place on the shoulder of Dream. “ You look like you're about to pass out any second. “ Sapnap snickered, munching on bubblegum with a phone in the other unoccupied hand- which is now occupied. Bags under his eyes, obvious to public. Best friends tells the truth and it annoys him sometimes.
Dream sighed loudly, taking a deep breath like oxygen didn't enter his nostril. “ I studied for a fucking math test that the teacher told us last fucking minute. “ He groaned, head meets the locker in front of him. Pushing his hair aside, he let his head rest on the locker, looking down at his best friend chatting out loud with a guy who he, Dream himself, doesn't know. He knows no one, except for Sapnap. Been friends with him for as long as his brain could remember.
Walking in the crowded halls feels suffocating. Some people didn't shower and it shows and smells. Being tall has been an advantage of his, being a half a head taller than most makes it easier, air fresher and sight better. Quiet the view actually, you could see everyone here.
Though being tall may catch people's attention, all the time. He does not pay attention to anyone but if he does, he stares, and that happened rarely. But now why did it happen now out of all the time? Brown eyes and hair caught his attention and same goes the other. His eyes, those green eyes that similarly look like grass, meet the eyes of a dark one. Dark like the trunk of a tree, dark like the sky at night. What the fuck is wrong with his heart?
Thump.
Their eyes stutter, looking away then looking again after a second. The red on his face, obvious to people, he shies away from the bright light of the school.
Something is fucking wrong with his heart and his face. He said in his head, taking another look at the guy with dark eyes. Eyes meet again. He groans lightly, the red darkens and his hands instinctively meet his hot cheeks, tapping them a couple of times.
Something is wrong with him, positively.
Negatively, something is damn fucking wrong with his body. The heart, eyes, cheeks, and everything else. Red stained his body. His brain is no longer fuzzy but the things he learned for the test that is right now- vanished, gone. The trunk, coffee- chocolate-like eyes sitting behind him.
He takes glances sometimes, of course, making the guy confuse. The way he tilts his head on taps the pen to his cheeks, god please helps his racing heart. The way he scribbles wrong answers- not that he looked at his test sheets, the harsh scratches of pencil and paper meeting hear by ears of his. The tongue slightly poking out in concentration and the eyes wrinkle when engaged with the question.
His legs jump, his pen in his hand shakes as he zones out, to no one knows. When he was about to answer, the bell suddenly rang, making his whole body jump. Looking down, nothing was written. His name and date were only jotted down on the paper sheet. The gasp comes out as relief.
What the fucking fuck was his relief for? For not answering a single question? For knowing in advance that he knew he failed?
For getting out of that embarrassing situation.
The thought crossed his confused mind, shaking it off quicker than the run he did when he was late for class.
What the fuck is wrong with him. He touches his heart with warm palms and thump. It was fast. Eyes met again. Chocolate and leaves. The red flushes both their faces, turning away quickly not after taking another glance which makes Dream smack his hand onto the table in front of him, scaring his friends who were so into the conversation he doesn't know of.
How did he get into the cafeteria? When did he get his food? How did his brain not take in all this unimportant memory? What was he thinking all this time? His dark eyes. There goes his thought again, wondering without permission.
Letting his head fall onto the table with a loud groan. “ Are you okay dude? “ Sapnap, in front of him, asked with his arms around the shoulder of someone he doesn't know. In that case, he didn't even know everyone sitting at this table except for Sapnap. “ I failed my maths. “
He groaned again, hitting his head on the table after looking up to look at the strangers sitting with him. “ And who the fuck are these guys? “ Dream spoke loudly, eyes closing. His mouth just can't function with him.
“ These are my friends that I introduce to you earlier today. “ Sapnap reminded him, causing another groan to come out of the boy with his head on the table. Hard on the table. Probably would have bruises
“ Are you okay? “ The guy with a beanie asked. He doesn't look like the kind of guy who comforts people. “ I have a crush. “ His mouth works faster than his brain. The table made a sound of ‘ What? ‘ ‘ Oh my god. ‘ Won't you look at that? These damned mouth.
This causes him to raise his head to smack everyone. So fucking loud. Their eyes met yet again. Forest green and dark. Those fucking brown eyes caught him again. This time they held it, the red swollen cheeks and the tension in the air increased.
It's like in a movie where the camera goes from your side to another, the slow motion and the song increase the tension. The stares and the wind. It feels like that, very embarrassing.
Yet his mind convinces him that, his heart says different.
It felt like the world just fucking stopped. Like the surrounding froze. The blood just moves faster, the heart pumps faster, everything is slow, just them that is moving fast. It felt like cold hands clenching warm hearts, frozen eyes with warm liquid. It feels like wall that was built for years has been smashed by a tap of soft warm fingers, cold stares melts to warm fond gazes. It felt like electricity somehow came into his body, fearing his nerves.
It felt like his dark soul brightens.
No matter how cliche that sounds, it's true. The feeling is something so warm yet so terrifying. So mysterious and bizzare. It makes him want more, yearn more. -
A week has passed and the eyes meet again and again. By now, he could just spit out all the things he observe while staring at the brunette, George. George is his name. Cute Guy George.
The earpieces he uses every morning to avoid his friends. The dramatic steps when ignoring them. The sandwich he brought as last-minute breakfast before class. The coffee he often drinks to stay awake- explaining the bags below his eyes- yet he still looks stunning. The black sweatpants he wears every day, he looks so cuddly and warm. The messy hair after his friend pets him and seemed to annoy Cute Guy George but to Dream, he just looks so adorable.
One thing he adores is the height difference. Their height differences when they pass by each other. Fucking hell, he is falling for a man, a man he never spoke to. A man out of all women. A man that he never has feelings for. One sight and he’s weak to his knees for someone he has yet to talk to.
The feeling grows like flowers blooming. The petal tickles, like butterflies flapping their wings. The roots hold onto his intestine as it depends on it. The stem pokes and tingles. Oh, how he hopes the guy swings the same way. He fucking hope and wish. -
Week 3 and he got caught staring at George by his friends. George’s friends. The way his face shades red and his mouth spreads to his eyes made it even worse. The fumbling of hands to cover his flushed face and the stammer of mouth as if George’s friend could hear him. How could he not stare at someone as beautiful as him?
Wearing that ripped jeans and that oversized black hoodie with that messy hair. Stunningly gorgeous.
God, Even if someone makes a two hours long-ass movie about him, Dream sure knows he won't get tired of replaying it. He’s got it bad, extremely bad. He felt like floating.
Week 4 and he finally dared to talk to the guy. Well, apologized to the guy. When he was walking down the dull hallway, eyes stuck to George, Dream accidentally bumps him, flinging him to the floor. What an embarrassing impression of a first meeting face to face, eyes to eyes, no secret glances. And the way the guy flew. He was just so small and cute.
“ Sorry, I'm very sorry. “ Apologies spill out of his mouth, and his cheeks redden. The brunette only giggled and smiled, tilting his head while looking up at him, still on the floor. Motherfucking God, help him please.
What the fucking hell. That was the cutest thing he has ever seen. A familiar gesture like a cat. “ It's okay, I'm fine. “ The brunette, George dusted off up his pants, standing up. If there was a heart monitor, it would go over the average number. His brains focus back and took in what happened. He talked to Dream. Cute Guy George talked to him.
An accent. A freaking accent. “ I am sorry for bumping into you. “ Dream tilts his head down in shame. The brunette only laughed, shaking his head slowly. His mouth opens, and kaboom, he felt like exploding, vanishing. “ You know, it's not a bad thing now that you have a chance to talk to me. Seems like you wanted to since you first started staring at me. “
He. Goddamn. Spoke. With. Confidence. And fucking realized this. Not that he was being secretive. Dream’s mouth is most likely dysfunctional seeing how he can't reply to that comment. He can't think of a reply. It seems like the guy in front of him cleared his foggy mind. Like, cleared it squeaky clean, no dust left.
“ Well, here's your chance to... “ He freaking stops talking. Fucking George stops talking like he expects Dream to finish the sentence. The accents thick with caramel and chocolate and gold. Yes, he certainly wants to evaporate right there.
He could just pretend he didn't exist. Pretend that George is crazy, talking to a tomato because of how flushed the blond seemed.
He's talking about his phone number. A god damn phone number. When they say gay panic feels like a heart attack but in a good way, they meant it because his heart is about to explode, explode and rainbow liquid will come out. The words that jumbled out of his mouth were random gibberish and something non-sense.
This is a very bad first impression. “ Let's save the embarrassment, yeah? “ The brown eyes hummed, slipping a paper into Dream’s hand, not without the soft caress of fingers with palms. First touch.
Oh my goodness, the butterflies. The fucking butterflies. “That's for you. “ and he strides off and vanishes through the crowded hallways, leaving the one with green eyes with an open mouth and flushed cheeks. Having a crush feels fucking great.
This is his moment. His time. Just punch in the number and text him. Easy. Type in the number in his phone, save it, and text. Simple. Done. Now he just needs to think of a way to introduce himself.
Hi I'm Dream No, too plain.
Hello, I'm Dream.
I bump into you yesterday :) too enthusiastic. Send.
This is Dream, hey.
What the freaking shit was that? The red flushed from his neck to his face, like a tomato grilled.
The gap in his mouth and shock printed on his face. He would look like a cartoon character if you imagine. Dream groaned, the sound rumbled his chest. He dropped the phone down to his side table. What an idiot. He is an idiot. A real life idiot. -
You know when you cook, the heat just gets to your face and you sweat along with your face reddening. You could feel it turning red and you could feel the sweat dripping.
This is how Dream feels right now. He feels hot. He is sweating and he feels like he is about to pass out. His face heats up in embarrassment and his sweats drip like rain. George texted him but he doesn't know who ‘ Dream ‘ is. Such an embarrassment.
He didn't introduce himself last meeting. Well, first meeting. When they were talking, nothing crossed Dream’s mind to introduce himself to the cute boy. What a failure.
How could he forget such an important part of a first meeting, trying to make friends, or probably be even more than that if fate let them. - I bumped into you yesterday His body slumped onto the table, and the food he was eating after hours of thinking about how to respond to such an embarrassing question was pushed forward. He took hours to think. Hours.
A ding was heard through his packed apartment and never has he ever picked up a phone with this speed before. With anticipation filling his eyes he opens his phone.
A notification from Pinterest.
He's got it hard. Fell rock bottom. Down bad. Any phrase you could think of. Body slumping like before, he groaned. What is taking Cute Guy George so long to answer? ( Mind you, he took hours to think of a response ) It's okay though, he couldn't be made at such a cute guy. -
Oh you're the cute guy that bumped into me
He could pass out, better, pass away right now.
This feels like heaven, heaven on earth. The thump of his heart couldn't be counted, and the red on his face couldn't compare to before this. He looked like a cherry. Yeah He could scream right now. The smile impossibly got bigger when he got a response right away. Right away!
Would you like to meet up? I'm not fond of texting.
Is this another way of asking people out? Is Cute Guy George asking him out? This is the first time a guy, never mind, a cute guy asked him out. This is a date, hopefully. Sure, where should we meet? Dream is meeting Cute Guy George, oh my lord.
There's a park near the school, meet me in 30
30 minutes? That's not enough.
He needs to look good. Does he smell? He needs to shower. Is his hair oily? What if Cute Guy George decided to touch his hair? What if he just wears a cap. But then he wouldn't be able to show these soft curls. Shower it is. -
The breeze never felt any better. The sound of faint splashing from a fountain, the whisper chirps of birds high up the deep sky, the breath of laughs, and the tap of sneakers on a rough surface.
His phone hangs on the tip of rough fingers, his face full of obvious nervous, and his heart fills with dread and anticipation.
The sky looks great today, his day would hopefully go well. The clouds look pale, signs that nothing will possibly get in the way. The sun is high up in the sky, probably silently encouraging him.
These unbelievable silly doubts run through his energetic mind, thinking of the possibilities, the pros, and cons, the consequences. He shook his arms, looking at his phone for the billionth time, hoping for a sign or message that Cute Guy George has arrived.
He sat on a bench that looks nice, hopefully giving him luck and encouraging him to ask Cute Guy George on a date.
Though they only had one conversation through messages and silent unknown eye communication, the first date to get to know Cute Guy George would be good, better. His leg shook and his fingers tap the leg that was shaking, he hums a song, a tune to distract and pass the time.
Not long after his distraction, a soft tap of fingers meets his tense shoulder. The turns quickly, also instantly catching the eyes of brown, eyes of coffee, and eyes of chocolate.
His eyes gaze over his face, the mouth that stretches, the cheeks that redden, and the eyes that wrinkle. “ Hello. “ says he timidly. That was cute. That was freaking cute and he wants to scream. “ Hi. “ he replies shyly.
Turning away from Cute Guy George that was behind him. Gorgeous. George turns around, hands behind his back with his head tilted to the right. “ How do I look? “ He flashes a smile, spinning around. Oh my god, he looks heavenly.
Ripped jeans and a white shirt with a trench coat. His eyes glisten, waiting for his answer. “ You look beautiful. “ he says like he's running out of breath. Eyes of brown wrinkles, the cheeks redden and the mouth lets out a sounds so illegal, a laugh. A very cute one. George smiled and, “ You are such an idiot. “ The guy laughed, slapping his arms in feigned annoyance.
Cute Guy George even sat next to him. God look what Cute Guy George did, he made him fucking red, flush red. Brighter than cherry and tomatoes and apple. He cleared his throat, forest green meets olive. “ Why did you want us to meet? “ He smiles. Smiled brighter than the sun and brighter than those stars at night.
Cute Guy George told him “ I just want us to talk face to face. “ and Dream melts. Melts like ice melts like ice cream, and just melts. He felt a fire inside his intestine, inside his stomach, and his heart. He felt like his whole body is on fire.
Love has never felt this nerve-wracking. Fire has never felt this hot, Ice has never melted this fast and he has never been this in love. He very much smiled and looked away, away from Cute Guy George, and look at his surroundings.
George hummed then tucked Dream’s shirt. This made forest green and olives meet again. Over and over again and he might faint. “ Would you like...to go get hot chocolate? “ Smiles shied away and cheeks turned red. ‘ God George, why do you have to be so cute. ‘ His brain talks like mouths for them existed.
Sure, said he. They walked and laughed and brush their fingers together and let the red rest on the cold cheeks and bump their body together and let their body flush red.
This cycle goes on for minutes and minutes and it felt like seconds to Dream. He hopes Cute Guy George feels the same way. The bell jingles and the warmth hits them. The faint chatters and the smell of coffee strikes their nostril.
They walked towards the short line of people, standing side by side, chattering a loud. The cold breath of laughter and light touches of soft cold fingers tingles. He and George with hot chocolate, soft cushion under warm body, and silent stares.
It seemed like an invisible bubble trapped them together. With red cheeks that look swollen, the falter of their stares when forest green meets dark pair of eyes.
The tap of soft fingers on the dark wooden table, the soft hum of low music, and the quiet unspoken conversation between two men sitting opposite of each other.
With a deep breath taken and, “ So... “ both folks spoke, heart rate rises. “ Would you need anything? “ Dream, the forest green, said with a lost puff. George looks up from the mug, tilting his head with the cute smile he wears often on his sleeves.
He placed his mug on the hard table, fingers brushing the scratchy wood, fantasy flowers surrounding him when his hair blows when the door opens wide and strangers enter. He tilted his head a little, licking his lips on ycoincidence because Dream stares and he stares at those lips that drank the warm drink, the lips that perks up by little things and lips that looks so admirable. He stares and stares and gets caught with a red flush but still, again, he stares.
It is painfully amusing and embarrassing. Very embarrassing. The soft murmur comes out of his lips, and fingers tap the table a couple of times, bringing them to his lap after. He opens and closes his lips, carefully thinking. He leans, eyes meet. “ I- “ he stops, searching for Dream’s face, thumb meets his cheeks, brushing lightly, the feeling of getting caressed by soft and warm, and small fingers glitter his insides. “ marshmallows. “ he murmurs, forest green meets dark ones.
The thumb slid down to the table, picking up a napkin and wiping the fingers delicately. Looking up, he stares at Dream, searching him and gazes him.
He feels naked. George starts. “ I want you to ask me out. Out on a date. “ and for the first time, George’s cheeks dusted pink, ears red and eyes shies away. “ Ask me on a date please and I'll say yes. “ George mumbles, hands both in the table, pushing back so back meets the warm cushion.
Dream’s breath felt like it was taken away. He felt like he was blown like the leaves outside by the wind. His heart rate quickens, his smile warms up, his stomach tingles, and his hand twitches, yearning for the warmth of hands from the other.
George continues with quiet mumbles, “ If you ask me out, I'll say yes and we’ll go anywhere you like. If you say yes then we will go out together any time you would like. If we go out and you say yes then I will be happy and “ his cheeks redden,
“ -If you allow me, I will kiss you. Only if you say yes and if it's a no then it's fine. “ His smile falters a bit. Drem felt so warm. He felt like he was on a warm bed, rays of bright lights spotting on his sheets that tangled to his legs. He felt like he woke up from cold pillows and warm sheets. It feels nice but not as cozy as now. If he says yes then George will go out with him.
If he says yes then they can go on a walk. If he says yes then there might be a chance they kiss. The word exploded his inside and with a certain answer on the tip of tongues, with red cheeks and forest green with darks meet, smiles brighten and fingers touching on the table and with full certainty, he opens his mouth with white teeth and- “ Sure, I would love to go out with you George. “
Now Cute Guy George is finally his.