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By the time the car is loaded, packed to the brim with trinkets and treasures he can't bear to part with, Sapnap can tell his hands are shaking. He tries to hide it when his mother pulls him into a tearful hug, keeps his eyes low when his stepfather pats him firmly on the shoulder. It's harder when he slips into the driving seat and wraps his fingers around the steering wheel. He makes do by gripping it so tight his knuckles go white, then off he goes.
His brain goes white for a while, but a few intersections later he finds himself tapping into the voice chat that he and his friends had prepared for the long roadtrip ahead.
"You're already on the way?" George's voice cuts through the thick silence of the car. It feels like Sapnap can breathe again. "I thought you were gonna call us before you left. What happened?"
Sapnap hums noncommittally. "Just forgot. I've barely left the house, there's like, no difference."
"I guess," George waffles in that annoying way he does. "I thought we were gonna share the entire trip with you, have a little moment, but y'know. Whatever." He says it as petulantly as possible, but Sapnap knows he isn't really angry.
"What's the arrival time?" Dream cuts in. He sounds about a fraction as nervous as Sapnap feels. It sort of makes sense. There won't be any difference in his life until about fourteen hours later. Sapnap tells him so. "Okay… Okay, I've basically already cleaned the place, but I'm gonna do another lookaround a few hours before you get here."
"Ooh, maid Dream at your service." George's voice is already sleepy. They both warned him, but George took a nap the other day that had knocked him out of sync with them. He was unlikely to last much longer on call.
"Seriously, dude, you can chill a little on the cleaning and shit. I'm probably gonna pass out soon as I get there."
He says that, but right now he can't even imagine falling asleep. He's barely out of the city and all his brain can conjure is nightmare scenario after nightmare scenario.
Sapnap has never done well with traveling. Planes, sure, lots of people are afraid of planes. He isn't exempt. But he feels like it's a bit of an overreaction for his leg to shake and his hands to tighten like this just because he's in for a long ride. There's a sinking feeling in his stomach that can't quite be put to the back of his mind. Something about a roadtrip just brings it all back.
"I want it to be clean though," Dream counters with a bit of a pout in his voice. Sapnap can hear bottles clinking from his end of the call. "So you can settle right in."
"He's gonna do that anyway," George yawns. "Aren't you two gonna, like, cuddle as soon as he gets there?"
"What?" Sapnap barks out, laughing, at the same time that Dream goes, "You're such an idiot."
A few more yawns and George is dismissed from the call. He threatens to be back soon. They all know he'll be down for a good few hours—Sapnap wouldn't be surprised if he set an alarm as soon as he ended the call.
The call in question falls quiet after George's disappearance. Dream is still fiddling with his bottles, probably just filling them up. The ambient sound is nice. It would be relaxing under normal circumstances.
Unfortunately it doesn't stop his mind from wandering to the road, onto the highway he's since joined. Fourteen hours. Fourteen hours before he enters a new state to start his life in Florida for who knows how long. With no one he knows except Dream.
"You nervous?"
Dream's voice cuts through. Sapnap hops onto the distraction like a lifeboat.
"Obviously." His fingers flex against the steering wheel. "Why aren't you?"
He grimaces a little at how the words fall out of his mouth. A little too accusatory, a little insecure.
"I am, what do you mean? My best friend is coming from, like, halfway across the country. Why wouldn't I be nervous?" The clinking stops, a fact that Sapnap doesn't appreciate. It means all Dream's attention is on him.
Sapnap shrugs, then remembers he can't be seen, and clears his throat. "Dunno. I mean, I know you're like, excited for me to arrive and everything."
"Sapnap, I've cleaned your room in particular like fifty times over. I am so excited for you to get here."
"Okay," he giggles, "great. My room is gonna be so clean when I get there." His smile dips a little. "I dunno, it feels like you're way less freaked out than me."
Dream hums with uncertainty, clearly a little confused by the admission. "Are you freaking out over this?"
The question has him bristling a bit. "I'm leaving the place I've lived for ages. I know basically nothing about Florida, let alone anyone else there. I've never even driven this long—dude, I basically just up and left, what is there not to freak out about?"
There's a pause. He takes the moment to collect himself, though he can't quite work up the strength to feel bad for snapping at Dream.
"There's Punz," he starts. His voice is so gentle it stings like alcohol over open skin. "And there's me. And most of our friends probably can't visit for a while, but Karl already said he wants to come down to visit."
Somewhere below all of the anxiety buzzing in his chest, Sapnap's heart aches at the tone Dream is taking with him. He lifts a hand to scrub at his head, a little frustrated with himself. "I know. I know."
"You're not leaving forever either, y'know?"
"Yeah. I know." They talked for a while about the possibilities that would open up if their living situation worked out. They also talked about—if it didn't. It wasn't fun to think through, but this was all experimental. Just to see how things go, as Dream put it.
Dream takes another pause. Sapnap can practically feel the eyes on him. It makes him squirm in his seat.
"I'm not just gonna hate you as soon as you step into the house."
That makes him suck in a breath. Hate. What if he hates living with Sapnap? Decides this was all a mistake as soon as they share a living space? Everything works so well over the phone. Is closing the chasm between them throwing away everything they worked so hard to build?
Hate. The word makes his stomach clench in pain.
"It might not be the same." The words come out quieter than he intended. Even after Dream correctly predicted the root of his worries, Sapnap doesn't want to own up to it. Like he's speaking it into existence, irreversibly. They might never be the same.
"Sapnap…" There's a hint of a smile in Dream's voice. His name is spoken with a patience that makes the corners of his eyes burn. "It's going to be better than ever."
The hum of cars around Sapnap's own fade back into the foreground. He allows himself a slow, deep breath.
"I wish—" He fumbles for a second, taps at the steering wheel to stall. Dream hums in questioning, so Sapnap regathers his courage. "I wish you were here with me."
It's a silly thought. He's literally on the way to Dream's house right now. The images come so easily though: Dream pressed to his side, fingers entwined, head on his shoulder. They've never occupied each other's spaces before, so realistically there's nothing for him to miss besides Dream's voice—but that just makes it all the more validating when Dream agrees.
"That'd be nice." His voice is up close on the microphone. The low tones wash over Sapnap in a way that only he could ever manage. "I'll just be waiting for you 'til then."