Work Text:
It was so stupid seeing them together. The hand holding in hallways and giggles when they sat together in classes. It was stupid and shitty, and so normal.
They were such a normal high school couple. They’d met being partners on a science project and just kind of fell from friends to dating. It was sweet and cliche like right out of a movie. But everybody thought their relationship was so cute and precious. Maybe it was. But Dream, God, he hated it. Looking at them made his stomach hurt and his eyes blurry. They made him want to crawl out of his skin. Give him enough time and he thinks he could genuinely claw his eyes out. Her hands would glide over his shoulder and he wanted to sink into the floor. Right now, she was playing with his fingers as he read her his essay and Dream thought he’d rather fucking die than be here right now.
“Dream, where’d ya go? You still with us?” Sapnap’s poking him with the eraser of his pencil, looking at him like he knows something.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dream says, like he’s not smoking out his ears, because clearly Sapnap can tell something’s up. He’s aware that his fingers are tapping against the desk, and his knee is bouncing, and the look on his face isn’t pleasant, and his glare isn’t hidden well. He's obviously staring and he’s obviously not happy about what he’s seeing.
“Ya sure, bud? You’re glaring holes into the back of poor George’s head. Typically you’re a fiend for writing essays.” Sapnap was right, he knows. He knows that his gaze hasn’t left George and Claire for a little too long.
“It’s whatever, just can’t get anything to sound right. George is just in my line of zoning out.” It's a lie, but he doesn’t really know the truth so he says it. He wishes Sapnap didn’t know him so well, because he knows he can see the lie, but he prays he doesn’t press.
“Mhm, whatever you say. Here, switch papers? Peer review or some shit.” God answered apparently. Sapnap, far too aware of Dream’s dodging, doesn’t go any further. Even if Dream knows he sees that even as they peer review and work, Dream still shoots looks up towards the couple a row ahead.
—
“Would you rather be a Mario brother or one of Santa’s elves?” Quackity asks, scuffing his feet along the floor.
“Dude, how are those comparable?” Sapnap asks, plucking a fry from Dream’s tray as the walk.
“Yeah, nimrod, what kind of question is that?” Karl asks, looking up from reading the back of a book for whatever reason.
“Shut up! Just answer the question. Mario brother or Santa’s elf?”
Silence.
“Guys, come on!” he whines.
“Santa’s elf.”
“Mario brother.”
“Ooh, conflict!” Karl shouts.
They’re on the way to room 407. Last year, it was Mrs. Kerrigan's French room. Then she got fired and the room’s not been taken over since. They've resided in spending their lunches there, surrounded by French vocab cards.
(The only one of them to ever have Mrs. Kerrigan was Dream; who already speaks French.)
“Dream, how ‘bout you split the tie? What do y’say?” Quackity prompts.
Silence.
“Dream?”
Silence.
“Sapnap?”
A nod. Karl and Quackity hurry up a little bit, leaving Dream and Sapnap behind.
“Jesus, what’s up with you and your head today?”
“Huh?” Dream finally looks up from his plate of food, his eyes a little distant and glossed over.
“You good there, buddy? I feel like I keep losing you.” Sapnap places a hand on his back as they walk.
“M’fine.” Dream knows it’s not believable.
“You and I both know that I know better than that. Darling angel face, something is definitely fucking with you. So… care to explain?”
Dream hates that Sapnap knows him. He also hates that he doesn’t even know his own answer.
What's wrong? Hell if he knows. He's just not anything right now. He's, well, fine.
“I don't, I'm not sure.”
Waiting.
“Is George eating with us today?”
Maybe that’s what it is.
“Oh, uh, don’t know. He's probably with Claire. I could text him and check. They could both come and eat with us, I guess?”
“No,” Dream blurts immediately. “It’s fine.” Which means he absolutely couldn’t last a whole lunch period with the two of them. Especially when the only one of their friends who wouldn’t make fun of him would be Sapnap. “I was just wondering.”
“He’s not ditching us, or you. I can talk to him, steal him for tomorrow. Claire’s got her own friends. Don’t worry.”
Dream nods.
They get to Mrs. Kerrigan’s in one piece.
- -
“Ok, movie night tomorrow?”
They’ve got only 10 minutes of lunch left.
“Yeah, we can have it at mine. My mom’s out of town so it’ll be empty,” Karl volunteers.
“Quackity will get snacks as usual. It's my turn to pick a movie, hah, suck it, losers. And Dream can bring, uh, himself,” Sapnap assigns.
“We’re inviting George, right?” Quackity checks.
“And Claire. We probably don’t make enough effort with her,” Karl adds.
Sapnap tenses, trying not to look at Dream.
“Damn bro, have we really not been trying? Shit, she is kinda one of our best friend’s girlfriends,” Quackity hums.
“She probably doesn’t want to deal with us. To be honest, we’re kinda obnoxious.” Sapnap’s going to try his best.
“Bro, straight up think George might not come if we don’t invite her too,” Quackity voices and Dream shrivels on himself.
Would George really not want to hang out if Claire wasn’t there? But Sapnap said he wasn’t ditching them. And Sapnap is right, right?
Sapnap smacks Quackity on the shoulder and glares. Quackity’s out of the loop though. He doesn’t get it, Sapnap tries anyway.
“Let's just tell George he can bring Claire if he wants to? That’s like meeting in the middle, y’know?” Karl offers.
Everyone agrees and Dream just sits there.
Both of them. Together. At Karl’s house. While they’re all there. As a group. Hanging out. With George and Claire. Them. And Claire. Claire.
Dream feels nauseous.
He thinks they’d watch a movie and Claire and George would cuddle. They’d watch a movie and Claire and George would giggle and whisper. They’d watch a movie and George would sit there, next to Claire. They watch a movie and—
Dream taps Sapnap on the back and sprints out the classroom, straight into the closest bathroom.
Fuck.
The only thing Dream registers is Sapnap’s hand on his back, a few whispered words, and the cold bathroom tile on his knees.
“We’ll be fine. She probably won’t come anyways. Just breathe with me.”
—
She shows.
They both do. Last to arrive, hand in hand, George and Claire show up.
Sapnap’s already got five of Karl’s DVDs sitting in front of him on the floor. He turns back to look at Dream on the couch as the two enter. Dream’s opted to not look up from his phone yet.
“Hey guys! Claire, Karl’s taking takeout orders in the kitchen, right through there. We just got you your regular, George,” Quackity tells them as he shifts in the recliner.
Claire peels off and Sapnap relaxes and goes back to picking their first movie.
George drops a bag of stuff, his and Claire’s, by the door and sets himself on the couch next to Dream.
Dream feels like he’s going to hyperventilate. George is right here, he hasn’t ditched them. But just a room over is Claire, and she’ll come back and pull George over to her. They’ll be happy and picturesque. And sunny. He’s going to hold her and then she’ll—
He’s startled by George’s finger tapping his nose, the other boy turned to face him on the couch. “Hey Dreamie.”
“Hi.”
George giggles.
He’ll survive tonight, he supposes.
- -
It's been a movie and a half.
They've eaten their takeout and gone through five bags of microwavable popcorn.
George is still with him. He's leaned into Dream’s chest, who’s got an arm around George’s waist. George who’s half asleep. George whose girlfriend is sat across the room.
- -
They've just started the fourth movie.
“George?”
The boy in his arms shifts.
“George?” Claire asks again.
George nuzzles his head into Dream’s upper arm before he slips away and over towards where Claire is sitting near Karl.
They start whispering.
Dream feels cold. Where does he put his arms now? He tucks his knee to his chest and wraps his arms around them. He tries to keep his eyes on Molly Ringwald and The Breakfast Club on TV. But he can’t quite manage. He keeps drifting, watching Claire lean her head on George’s shoulder and talk to him.
“We’re gonna get going.”
Dream almost doesn’t realize she says it, even as he’s starting right at them.
“Bye!”
“See ya guys.”
“Thanks for coming.”
They’re gone before Dream says anything.
He hated them being here and he hated them leaving. They left with clasped hands and clearly left to go to the same place. Now George is gone. Gone with her. And Dream’s sat on a sofa by himself, hugging his knees.
What the hell is wrong with him?
“Dream,” someone whines, “come with me and get popcorn,” it’s Sapnap.
What would he do without Sapnap?
He silently slides himself off the couch and trudges after Sapnap into the kitchen.
“Ok, I’ve been trying to be nice, but what the fuck is up?”
“Huh?” Dream asks quietly.
“You’re all mopey recently or angry or whatever. And it’s always about Claire and George. Dude, you practically threw up.”
Dream feels terrible. He feels like he’s been bringing the mood down, being a bad friend. Just sort of existing, no more. He feels shitty because he doesn’t know what is up. He'll be fine, and then he’s not and his mind is always on a certain couple.
“I don't know.” He knows he sounds pathetic as he says it.
But Sapnap doesn’t look mad.
“I know, buddy. It’s not your fault, but you should figure it out. Someone’s gonna get hurt.”
Dream leans back into the counter, dazed. Why do they make him so upset? Why does he hate seeing them together? Why is he like this? Why is he ruining shit?
“Grab me the popcorn, will you?”
—
They’re supposed to be in the library watching some documentary with the rest of their grade. One of those stupid ones they’ve shown you since you were five.
They’re in the bathroom down the hall.
“Quackity, smash or pass, the green M&M?” Sapnap asks, before trying to throw Sour Patch Kids into Dream’s mouth.
“Smash, duh, who do you think I am?”
“You’d smash an M&M? That's so sad, how could you?” Karl whines.
“Yeah, that seems a little inhumane,” Dream adds, around a mouthful of caught candy.
“Fine, fuck off. Smash or pass, Claire,” he retaliates.
“Dude!”
“Jesus christ!”
“You can’t say that!”
Dream is silent.
“You couldn’t answer anything anyways, her and Gogy are like forever material,” Quackity quips back.
Dream rolls his eyes and kicks his heel into the wall behind him. “End game,” he mocks.
Sapnap flinches.
“Jeez dude, you always act like their relationship is the devil incarnate,” Quackity responds, a questioning look on his face.
“Literally Dream, it’s like you’ve got an issue with them or whatever,” Karl adds.
“Oh shut up, I don’t have an issue with them.”
“Guys—“ Sapnap starts.
“No like you kind of do.”
“It's bad man.”
“It’s like—“
“You like her.”
“What?” Sapnap asks.
“Oh my god! Is that what it is?” Karl asks, jumping up and down.
“Fuck off, no.”
“We wouldn’t care, we know you wouldn’t like purposely try to hurt George and—
“And we’d kill if you did,” Karl interjects.
“And we’d kill you if you did, but like just own up to it, man.”
“Yeah, it’s like chill, you can say if it’s that.”
Sapnap opens his mouth, seconds from saying something. Trying to end this conversation. Trying to stray away from things people don’t mean to say and feelings getting muddled. He wants to go back to stupid teenage games and giggles over stupid shit. Not Dream’s messed up feelings. He just wants to protect his best friend, but he doesn’t say anything in time.
“Whatever, sure, maybe.”
Dream doesn’t know why he says it, but he does.
“Maybe I like Claire.”
—
Jealousy.
Maybe that’s the name for it. The nasty feeling Dream gets in his stomach and his heart and his eyes.
It has to be, right? It explains it.
He's always thought Claire was pretty and sweet. She can be funny when she wants to be. Dream’s known her for a little while and then get on okay.
She's got pretty hair, it’s blonde. But dark, like his. She's got pretty hair, and George probably runs his fingers through it.
She has freckles, a little universe on her face. Fewer than Dream but still enough. George probably counts them.
Pretty eyes too. Green but not the way his are green. Dream’s eyes are green like the ocean could be green, hers are like trees. George probably stares into them.
Ok, so that’s it, he guesses. He's jealous. of George. Dream wishes he could be with Claire but would never hurt George like that. So he lets himself hurt. It's fine. It makes sense. Dream likes Claire. Likes her. Her.
Right?
—
There's copper under his tongue and dandelions as his fingers.
He breathes in the grass and sinks into it until his heart beats with the core of the earth.
It's quiet but he’s not alone.
There’s thin humming and the padding of feet under a small body.
The figure drops next to him.
George.
He smiles.
There's roses in his hair and sunflowers on his corduroys. He's precious.
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
George whispers him words. Words in a language Dream doesn’t understand but somehow he knows.
Dream hums back in French, accent thick on his tongue like when he was little. It melts into the copper in his throat.
George helps him to steadily sit up, the boys facing each other, dandelions caressing cheeks.
“You’re sweet.”
“To you.”
“To the world.”
“Am I?”
“Like honey.”
He loves him, he thinks.
Loves him like this spring day and the bees by their torsos. Loves him and loves him and loves him till all he loves is love.
He kisses him.
Lemon drops on hibiscus.
Oranges and daisies.
Dandelions and copper and roses and sunflowers.
“She’s a killer queen, gunpowder, gelatine, dynamite with—“
He slams his hand down near his phone to try and get his alarm to turn off.
Shit.
—
Sapnap’s backyard houses their extended friend group tonight. It's the second to last Friday before winter break.
Couldn’t do the true last Friday before break because too many of them will be out of town already, and so the tradition had to shift.
Sapnap’s got his head in Dream’s lap as they sit in the grass, kind of just watching stuff happen.
“And then she just stopped talking to him, like he didn’t even do anything,” Sapnap tells him.
“Unbelievable, right?” Sapnap prompts.
“So unbelievable,” Dream humors him, pushing hair from Sapnap’s face.
“Ok and then he decided to tell me all about it like I don’t hate his guts, which he has to know. I'm fairly obvious about it. Aren’t I?”
“You are.”
“See! And he likes wants me to agree with him, that motherfucker. He like begs me to tell him he’s in the right about this. So now I'm ghosting him too and like yeah. So long story short, he’s a bitch.” Sapnap finished his story, panting because he rushed it all out in barely a minute.
“Agreed,” Dream laughs. Because if Sapnap hates someone, he’ll hate them too.
Sapnap smiles up at him before promptly sitting up, like he’s realized the most important thing in his life, “I need Swedish Fish. now. I'll be back, don’t miss me too much, doll face.”
“Be safe, idiot.”
Dream sits there. This is his happy place. Most of the time.
He loves just getting to watch his friends be happy and feed off that energy. Even though he’s alone right now, he’s content. These people make him happy.
Punz stumbles his way towards Dream, dropping down on one side of him. “Heya, Dream.”
“Hi, Punz,” Dream laughs.
“Oooh, I heard something funny recently,” Punz says, words slurred and jumbled together.
“Do tell.”
“You have a crush on Claire,” Punz whispers out like they’re third graders sharing secrets.
Dream doesn’t think this is a very funny thing at all.
“What? How’d you hear that?”
“Doesn’t matter, is it true?” he asks.
“No, no, no it isn’t, it’s, whatever. Who said that?”
Who's been telling Dream’s secrets? Things he wasn’t even sure of himself. He doesn’t want people to know. It feels wrong, on his tongue and anyone else’s. He doesn’t want people to think that of him.
“You like Gogy’s girlfriend,” Punz sing-songs.
“I do not.”
“Yes, ya do.”
Why has everyone been so insistent on that as of recent?
Like they know him better than he knows himself.
“I do, or I don’t, it doesn’t matter,” He’s so fucking done having this conversation everyday.
Punz falls backwards into the grass, mouth open to say something stupid again.
“Swedish Fish,” Sapnap says with a smile, as he comes back over to them. “Hi, Punz!”
Punz shuts up.
Dream can’t stop thinking though. Even as he’s offered candy and Punz and Sapnap chat. Who told? Do people know? People outside of this backyard? Do people know he despises his best friend’s relationship? Does George know?
- -
A few people have cleared out by later in the night. But still enough that there’s ambient talking and clumps of people.
Sapnap’s gone, he’s with Karl now. The two of them playing the clumsiest version of corn hole Dream’s ever seen.
He sees Claire. Blond, green, spotted. She's with Tina and Quackity. She looks happy with their friend group. Not quite like she fits in, but like she could. Dream wonders what it would be like if he had brought her into the friend group instead of George. Would people be wary of her because Dream’s had some shitty people in the past? Would they like her just to please Dream? If Dream would have brought her into the friend group it would’ve been worse. He ruins things like this.
He wonders where George is.
Hands clamp over his eyes. “Guess who?” There’s an accent, his favorite.
“Who else is British?”
“Lots of people, Wilbur, Tommy.”
“They've left.”
“So who am I then?”
“Hi, George.”
George makes a noise like Dream has won a huge cash prize on a game show and then plops himself in front of Dream’s folded legs.
“Hi, Dreamboat,” George giggles.
He's kind of adorable.
“You’re an idiot.”
“Your idiot.”
Claire’s idiot.
“Everything ok?” Dream asks.
“Mighty fine, but I'm exhausted.” George slumps forward, cheek smushing up against Dream’s collarbone.
He likes this.
“Oh, yeah? Why?” Dream places one of his hands on George’s head and draws hearts into his hair because they make sense on George, just like roses do.
“Three tests. Three! Can they even do that?” George whines, fingers poking into Dream’s stomach like he’s a cat. George kind of is though.
“Who knows. Seems a little like torture though.”
“Yeah?”
Dream nods.
“You’d probably like that.”
Oh my god.
Dream sputters, hand racing from George’s hair to his back, “What the hell? You can’t say that. Jesus christ.” George is going to kill him.
“Just saying.” George shrugs. “What about yourself, pumpkin? All good?”
Pumpkin? That's cute.
“Sure thing.” Lies. Dream hasn’t felt “all good” for a while.
“Better be, or I'd make you.”
“Oh, you would, huh? Make me what exactly?”
“Dream! I'd make you feel all good.” That’s no better.
“And how you plan to do that exactly?” Dream teases, invested in the way George is lightly punching him in the stomach.
“Oh my god! Idiot, I'd let you like cry into my shoulder as we watch your favorite movie, or something. Get your mind out of the gutter,” George says, poking him in the chest between each word.
“I think yours went there first, pumpkin .”
George blushes.
Cute.
“Dream! You can’t just use it back on me. That’s not fair.”
This feels wrong. It should. George is blushing at Dream calling him pet names. George’s girlfriend is somewhere around here. But George is practically in Dream’s lap, batting at him to get his mind out of the gutter. It should feel wrong, but Dream is addicted.
George is just so pretty when he blushes.
“Is it, darling?” Dream asks, hooking a finger under George’s chin and pulling him up towards him.
“Hi,” George says, smiling when he and Dream make eye contact.
“Hi,” Dream laughs.
“You’re unfair,” George says.
“How so?”
George’s eyes go cross and he tries to look all over Dream’s face at once.
“You’re pretty.”
Oh god. Oh no.
George is really close now. Their eyelashes brush, and foreheads lean against each other.
Dream hopes, with whatever logical side of him remains, that no one is looking at them because he knows it’ll look bad.
George shifts and their noses collide.
“It's unfair.”
Dream can feel George’s lips form the words.
“Then I guess you’re unfair too.”
It's quiet. They both stop talking but Dream can’t hear anyone else. He can feel George’s breath on his upper lip and George’s hands along his spine.
This is unfair.
None of this can be happening because George has—
“Shit!” He doesn’t know which of them says it, maybe they both did.
Dream doesn’t wait around to find out.
- -
“Karl,” Sapnap says, dragging out the other boy’s name, “it’s my turn.”
Dream’s with George.
Dream’s really close to George.
Dream’s running.
“Ok, so go then, nimrod.”
“Actually, don’t worry, Karl. You can go.”
He takes off into his own house.
He finds Dream in his room, sitting on his rug leaned against Sapnap’s bed, knees hugged to chest.
Sapnap thinks he’s crying.
“Hey, bud.”
Sapnap hates seeing his best friend like this. He wants it to stop. He slowly walks into his room, the door shutting quietly behind him. He sits next to Dream. He thinks he already knows what’s wrong.
“You wanna tell me what’s up?”
“I ruin things.”
Sapnap hurts for him.
“You don’t.”
Dream breathes a shaky breath, reaching forward till Sapnap catches on and grabs his hand to stabilize the boy.
“I'm going to ruin George and Claire’s relationship.”
There it is. The bane of all of Dream’s issues lately. His best friend’s relationship. Something he should adore for the sake of George, for his favorite person. (Aside from Sapnap, that’s a given.) Dream should be happy for George. Happy that he’s happy. He's a terrible friend, he thinks.
“Because…”
“Because I like Claire and I'm gonna do something stupid and George will hate me.”
Dream chokes on the words. They feel wrong in his throat, ripping out tissue as they come up. Dream cries around them. They feel like fucking lies as he forces them out. He hates how they feel in his mouth and yet he says them anyway.
“You like Claire?” Sapnap asks, so slow as he enunciates every word, like he’s talking to a kid who doesn’t fully understand something. Like Dream’s missing something.
“Yes, Sapnap, I do.” He rushes it out so it hurts less. He's crushing Sapnap’s hand as he sobs through the words. Sapnap squeezes back just the same.
“Dream, look at me, do you want to go on a date with Claire?” Sapnap grabs Dream’s arms and pulls them forward so Dream is tugged closer to him.
Dream doesn’t know why Sapnap keeps asking. The questions makes him want to rip his ears out. How many times does he have to say it for Sapnap to get it?
He pauses, just panting. For some reason he doesn’t feel like he can answer again. Does he want to go on a date with Claire?
Sure he does.
He thinks he does.
He's told himself he does.
“Yes.”
“But do you really?”
What is Sapnap so insistent about? Can he just not hear him or something? Why does he sound like he knows something Dream doesn’t?
“Fuck off, shut up. Don’t make me say it again. I know I'm despicable, okay?” Dream knows he ruins things. He knows he’s having feelings he shouldn't. He knows he’s wrong. That he’s being weird. That he's a terrible person.
Sapnap sighs, like he can’t be patient anymore. Dream wants him to say whatever it is he’s keeping from him.
“Dream, do you really want to go on dates with Claire? Or is it George?” Sapnap says, choosing his words carefully. Saying them so Dream can actually really hear them.
What?
What does Sapnap even mean? What does he mean “or is it George?” Is George the reason he's been so miserable recently? Never. He could never be, Dream wouldn’t let that happen. He loves George too much.
He loves him till all he loves is love.
“George,” Dream mutters out, barely a word, like he’s testing it out.
“Mhm.” Sapnap is walking him through this so gently. Dream thinks he’s the smallest bit angry at him for all the times he made Dream repeat himself, but Dream would be a mess if Sapnap wasn’t here to ground him.
Dream thinks he’s the one who should be giving Sapnap advice, he’s older after all. Dream’s supposed to be the one helping Sapnap through some relationship issue, but it’s the opposite, because Sapnap somehow gets him.
“Do I like George?” Dream asks, maybe to himself, maybe to Sapnap, or maybe he’s just speaking it into the world.
Dream thinks about the backyard. George calling him pumpkin and sitting so close to him. Dream calling him darling and their noses sliding against each other.
Dream thinks about what it would be like to be Claire. With her pretty blond hair that George would slide his fingers through, circles through the strands. About her freckles and George pressing divots into each one, permanent specs of George in a constellation. Her eyes, George staring into them, slipping under them. Having her laugh and George’s sliding in with it.
Dream wants to be Claire.
Dream wants George to be with him like he’s with Claire.
“You got there, buddy?” Sapnap asks, taking the opportunity to wipe tears from Dream’s cheeks.
“I like George.”
Dream’s crying again.
“Fuck, I like him so much, Sapnap.”
But he’ll never want me, he’s got Claire.
Dream can’t breathe.
“What do I do? I like him, love him. And he’s never gonna love him, not like I like him. And he’s got Claire anyways, I’d fuck everything up.” The words jumble as he tries to process what he’s feeling.
“Dream, he likes you too.”
Sapnap is just trying to make him feel better. George doesn’t like him. In fact he’d hate him if ever admitted everything Dream just realized he felt.
“There's no way.”
“Nimrod,” since when did Sapnap start picking things up from Karl, “Claire is like you in a different font.”
“No.”
“Blonde, green eyes, freckles, stupid laugh, golden retriever. You’re the same person.”
“No.”
“Dream—“
“But that doesn’t mean he likes me.”
“He hangs out with you more than any of us. He adores spending time with you, he’s literally obsessed. Before he got with Claire he always talked about how hot you were, and you two acted like you were dating. Hell, sometimes you still do. I had to explain to some girl like a week and a half ago that y’all weren’t a thing and that Claire was still in the picture. You’re perfect for each other. Soulmates and all that sappy shit.”
George thinks he’s hot?
Dream is reeling with every new word Sapnap says. They acted like they were dating? People have thought they were dating? Should Dream have realized this years ago? When he actually had a chance? Fuck.
He wants to be soulmates with George.
He wants it with everything in his bones.
Dream wants to slip into George’s arms like he’s meant to be there and not like he’s a fill-in for Claire. Dream wants to be Claire.
Dream wants to be Claire so that George will love him.
“Sap…” Dream’s voice barely breaks through the room but Sapnap hears.
“Think about it? We don’t have to keep talking.”
Sapnap knows him too well.
“I'll get these weirdos out of my backyard and we can just hang? You and me?”
Dream nods, letting Sapnap drop his hand and leave Dream alone.
His arms cradle his torso and he shrinks into his ribs.
His mind drifts to roses and sunflowers. Roses entangled in brown hair and the way they draped against Dream’s skin. Loves.
—
Dream’s been weird recently.
Everyone's been noticing it, little by little.
Of course, Sapnap noticed first and most people are sure Sapnap is the only one who actually knows anything.
Dream acts normal around Sapnap. They do their stupid bro handshakes and have the same sleepover nights they’ve had since they were six.
But Dream isn’t normal around anyone else. A shell of himself, maybe.
He looks at Karl like he’s hiding something, something he’s scared to tell Karl, even though it’s a well known fact that you can tell Karl anything. Dream will laugh at his jokes, tell some of his own but after that Karl can’t get anything out of him. No conversations like the ones they used to have. The ones they had because Karl is easy to talk to. And Dream’s never been particularly open, but he’s managed to close off even more.
Dream typically feeds off of Quackity’s energy. When Quackity’s having fun, Dream can have fun too. Quackity yells a dumb phrase and Dream does too. Dream, often reserved in his own ways, can be loud and excited around Quackity. But that’s stopped. Dream’s managed to find a permanent place in his cocky, secretive exterior. It’s scary because despite what he claims, Quackity cares a hell of a lot about the people he chooses to be around. Dream has resided back into the person he was before letting Quackity get to know him, and it’s freaking him out.
George wants nothing more than to know what happened. Dream, sunshine, has all but dropped away. As if light melted out of him, he’s gone. George used to spend basically every minute possible with Dream, and sure that had to change when Claire came around but he’s managed to still see his boy enough. These last weeks though, something changed. They had seen each other at Sapnap’s party and things had for a moment been like they were all those months ago before, well, before. But then something stumbled around in Dream’s eyes, and he slipped away. Sapnap had come outside later, forcing them all out. George had tried to ask after Dream and Sapnap had just told him to wait, that everything would make sense eventually. George hasn’t seen Dream, really seen him since.
George has seen Dream since, of course. They have classes together and lunch sometimes in the old French room. They chat. They don’t talk anymore, they chat. And George used to always have Dream to rely on if he needed to talk. But sometimes Dream can’t even look him in the eye and he avoids sitting too close to him. George wonders sometimes if he’s done something wrong but Dream’s weird to everyone these days.
George hates this Dream. This was the Dream from before he ever truly knew him. This Dream is quiet and judgmental. He protects himself with his cocky nature and wits. And that’s Dream but that isn’t all Dream is. Dream has this side of him where he becomes a golden retriever and begs for attention. Where he’s sweet and timid. Where he trusts the people around him with those feelings he’s always trying to hide. Dream has dimension to him and it makes George love him that much more and all of a sudden it’s vanished.
George wants to know what happened.
He wants his boy back.
—
Dream is dreading today.
He’s been fine, just fine, for going on weeks now. Sure he doesn’t like it, but he’s working with it, and at least he can be better around Sapnap. But all his hard work is going down the drain today.
He's worked so hard to avoid George, and more importantly his feelings. He's avoided George’s face and the thought of how gorgeous he is. He's proud of the job he’s done. Aside from the guilt that chokes him because he knows George is somewhat aware he’s avoiding him, it’s been working.
But it all ends today.
All of a sudden, George decided he needed a calculus tutor, and then Dream’s being recommended by Mr. Moore, who’s always been fond of the blonde. And then Dream’s track coach is saying it’ll be a good opportunity, maybe it’ll look good for the program. And Dream isn’t sure how to say no.
So now he’s going to tutor his best friend, that’s he’s in love with, and that he’s been actively ignoring.
Just great.
He's behind the school, waiting for the next hour and a half to pass till he has to be in the library for their tutoring session. He wants something dramatic and miserable to happen between then and now, so he doesn’t have to do this. Maybe he’ll need to go to the hospital all of a sudden.
While he waits for that dramatic moment, he’s on the phone with Sapnap, whining.
“I can’t believe this. George, of all people, just up and decides he needs a calc tutor? He could’ve fucking asked Wilbur, he’s in my class.”
“Dude, calm down. You two were gonna have to talk sooner or later,” Sapnap huffs from the other side of the call.
“But I don’t want to. I'm gonna say something dumb.” (read: Dream is scared.)
“I think it’ll go a lot better than you think it will,” Sapnap says, like he knows something. Like he’s wiser even though he’s decently younger than Dream.
“Shut up, stop talking like that.”
“Like what?” Sapnap snarks back.
“Y’know what, dumbass.”
- -
“Isn’t it time for your little study session?”
His watch reads 5:15.
He's supposed to be in the library right about now. He really does not want to move. Nothing dramatic has happened. He's meant to be in the hospital, suffering some injury or another.
“Don’t make me go,” Dream whines, drawing out the word.
“No, you hang up first,” Sapnap mocks, before immediately hanging up, leaving Dream to his own devices.
Dream lets his head fall back against the wall before begrudgingly hoisting himself and his backpack up. He walks as slowly as he can back into the building, and once in he walks even slower towards the library.
His phone has buzzed a couple times, he’s almost positive it’s George, telling him he’s a couple minutes late. He doesn’t want to deal with it. He doesn’t want to deal with George, face to face, alone, at all.
Finally he’s in the library, passing shelves in search of whatever table George has set his stuff down on.
He finds the boy in a back corner, crunched up in a chair with a blanket over his lap. There's already a textbook, a notebook, and his computer out, and a pencil in between his teeth. He looks cozy. He looks warm.
He looks cute.
“Dream!” George’s voice is beyond excited, and it’s better than Dream deserves, as someone who’s been ignoring the poor boy.
Dream accepts his fate and moves to settle into the seat next to George. “Hey. A little birdie said you needed help?” Dream is still staring at the desk, if he looks up he sees George — who he’s in love with — and he isn’t ready for that.
“Oh, yup, calculus, sucks, y’know?” It's awkward, like George is trying to hide something, like he has something he wants to say but won’t say it.
“Tell me about it, I've already been taking it for two years.”
“We know you’re smart, just shut up and help me already.”
- -
“Well you clearly understand the concept, it’s the application that you’re struggling with. I probably have some old practice problems we can do, you think that will help?” Dream asks, already reaching into his backpack and pulling out an old math notebook. When he sets it back onto the table, he finds he hasn’t gotten an answer from George and George is just staring off into the distance.
“George?”
No answer.
George’s pencil, led and answer whittled down from so much working, is tapping against the table. George’s unfocus is clear.
“Hey, if you’re tired, we can take a quick break. Calc is no easy task.”
“George? You good? Didn’t kill you, did I?”
“Me and Claire broke up.”
“Huh?”
“We’re not together anymore.” George turns to finally look at Dream, whose face is stuck in some weird mix of relief and shock.
He feels guilty that relief floods over him.
“I'm sorry, man. You wanna talk about it?” Dream isn’t sorry — and he’s sorry about that more than anything —, and he’d rather not talk about it right now.
“I don’t think I mind all that much, not being with her anymore, I mean. I don’t think we fit, but we’re still friends, y’know? Didn’t end badly,” George sounds lighter as he says it.
“You didn’t fit?” Dream’s intrigued by the way George said it, like he was hopeful for something else.
“Nah, didn’t fit, like the wrong puzzle pieces, y’know? I think there’s someone else I'd fit better with.”
What does George mean? Has George moved on already? Set his eyes on someone new? Maybe George ended it so he could be with someone else? Who would George want to be with?
“Someone else?”
George just nods. He's fidgeting with the hem of his blanket, his eyes are locked on some math problems from a while ago.
“Yeah, I like him a lot.”
Him.
“Wanna tell me about him?”
This is just self-destructive now. Dream doesn’t want to hear about whatever new person George likes, especially when it’s not him.
George smiles, soft and small.
“Blonde, green eyes, cute smile. Oh and freckles, lots of them. And he’s got this stupid laugh that just makes you want to laugh too. He's ridiculously sweet when you get to know him, a bit of a simp. Funny and goes out of his way to help others. I love loving him,” George sighs contently.
Dream thinks that whoever this is sounds a lot like Claire.
Claire is like you in a different font.
Whoever George is talking about sounds a hell of a lot like Dream. Shit, and there he goes getting his hopes up.
“George—“
“He's been weird lately. I'm worried I did something, that he’s been avoiding me because I hurt him somehow.”
“I'm sure you didn’t do anything to him.”
George laughs, like Dream doesn’t understand something.
“It's nice to hear him say it.”
Huh?
“Hear him say it? He told you?”
“Mhm, just did.”
Dream stares, confused.
George giggles with a roll of his eyes.
Oh fuck. Oh wait.
“George?”
“Yeah?” He’s smirking, it’s cute.
“Is it me? Am I him?”
“Maybe.”
Oh my god.
“Really?”
George is finally looking at him, twisted fully in his seat to face the other boy. He picks up part of the blanket and tosses part of it over Dream’s lap, they both laugh. George intertwines his hand with Dream’s. George’s other hand reaches forward to slide onto Dream’s cheek, Dream’s finding the back of George’s neck and the small hairs there. George leans forward, and it’s quick and it’s barely there but it’s been all he’s wanted for a while.
“That answer your question?”
Dream nods eagerly, “Yeah, yeah, I get it, it’s me. Can we do that again?”
George nods and Dream goes to lean in, but gets stopped by George’s index finger against his lips.
“Yes, but I do genuinely need help with calculus.”
“Yup, of course.”
George move his finger and mutters out, “golden retriever,” and then his lips are on Dream’s again.
—
“Dream, you seem better,” Quackity says, days later as they sit in Mrs. Kerrigan's old room.
The only one who knows is Sapnap, who’s smiling deviously.
“Oh, uh, sure, guess I am,” Dream says, awkwardly laughing.
Karl and Quackity have noticed the way their friend has changed, become brighter again, less that old version of himself from all those years ago when they’d first met.
“What changed?” Karl asks, spooning lunchroom rice into his mouth. his knee bouncing, leaning into Sapnap as if asking him too.
“When's George coming?” Sapnap asks instead
“Like a minute, said he got out of class late,” Dream replies.
Quackity thinks that's weird, because a few days ago George was telling him about how Dream and him weren’t talking much these days.
Maybe they made up over whatever dumb fight they concocted?
The door swings open and of course, it’s George. Alone, because there’s no Claire anymore, not like that anyways.
“Hey, love, sorry, Polaski kept us back for something dumb,” George says, as he makes his way over to the blonde, who’s sat on one of the desks.
“Love?” Karl asks quietly, confused.
“Don’t worry, just glad you’re here, baby,” Dream says, as George settles in front of him.
“Baby?” Karl once again asks.
George leans forward to kiss him quickly on the cheek, his food set aside on another desk with Dream and Karl’s.
“Ok, what the hell?” Quackity asks for both him and Karl, the two who are left in the blue.
“Who's gonna tell them?” Sapnap asks, excited to be in on the secret.
“Dream’s my boyfriend.”
“George and I, we’re dating.”
They say it at the same time.
“Oh! So that's what all this was,” Quackity pieces together.
“Damn, that makes sense. Knew you’d come to your senses one day or another.”
Dream’s happy, he’s got his friends, who are happy for him, he’s got Sapnap, who’s been looking out for him forever, and George, love of his life, who will now stare into his eyes, play with his hair, and count his freckles.
“Now we’re just waiting for Sapnap and Karl to figure themselves out,” Dream adds.
“What?”