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George is driving Sapnap crazy today. To be fair, George is often driving Sapnap crazy in various different ways. Today he’s being particularly infuriating, though.
"We're not watching One Piece, Sapnap. It's not happening. Go cry about it."
"You've picked the show, like, every single night, George. You promised I could choose tonight, you swore we would watch whatever I wanted, remember?"
"Hmm." George pauses, resting the perfect point of his chin against the heel of a hand as if in thought. After a moment, though, he snorts in amusement and shakes his head, smirking. "I actually don't care."
Sapnap grits his teeth. George doesn't even care what they watch, not really, he just wants to make him mad, and Sapnap knows it.
"You could just leave, and Dream and I could watch it without you," Sapnap snaps, inclining his head at their other friend, who's currently sitting beside him with a disgruntled look on his face.
George snickers. "As if. Dream would obviously choose to come watch something with me over you."
"Hey," Dream says, lifting his arms in a don't-look-at-me gesture. "Leave me out of this."
Sapnap can't help but notice that he didn't deny it, though, and it makes him feel even pricklier. "Well, I'd definitely have a lot more fun if you weren't here," he tells George, folding his arms over his chest.
“I guess we’d both be happier that way, then. Since you suck all of the fun out of everything.”
That seems awfully harsh. He just wanted George to be fair and let someone else pick the show for once. “I don’t know why I even fucking bother to hang out with you, then. Since you apparently hate it so much.”
“I don’t know why you bother, either. Maybe because you’re pathetic and clingy?”
Sapnap stands up from the sofa now, arms still crossed. He holds himself stiffly so his shoulders don’t curl in with hurt because he knows George would make fun of him for that too, if he noticed. “I’ve had enough of your shit today, George. Sometimes I really wish I wasn’t stuck living with you.”
George’s perfect lips curl back into something that borders on a sneer. It doesn’t look quite right on his unfairly pretty face. “It’s mutual. God, you’re so whiny.”
There’s a slight itching sensation at the backs of Sapnap’s eyes, and he digs his nails into his biceps to hold himself still, to keep the hurt from showing through his body language. “I ought to slap you right now, George.”
“As if you could even get enough strength behind it to hurt me.”
"Guys, guys, calm down!" Dream attempts to placate, casting his arms out as though he's preparing to physically hold them back from one another. It's too late now, though, this has gone past just picking a show.
“Shut up, Dream,” Sapnap returns unthinkingly, angry enough now that he’s not really thinking straight.
“Leave Dream alone!” George yells, and Sapnap digs his teeth into his lip as his heart pangs. He hadn’t really meant to snap at Dream too, he just hadn’t been thinking, but hearing George immediately jump to his defence while he’s been needling at Sapnap for no reason the entire day makes their dynamic feel even more unbalanced than usual.
There’s a lump in Sapnap’s throat. Why is George kind to Dream but always makes him feel like shit?
It's not like this is anything new, either. This has always been their dynamic - fighting, ripping into each other, never really getting along.
Somewhere along the line, though, Sapnap had gotten a little sick of it. Maybe it was around the same time that he’d stupidly fallen in love with George.
Whatever the reason, at some point, it had started to feel one-sided, when George came after him like this. He knows that he would have his back if it really came down to it, but that doesn't always feel like it's enough anymore. Some part of him has started to worry that George really means it, at least a bit, when he tells him that he’s annoying or stupid or that he wishes he wasn’t there.
Sapnap’s not about to try to explain that to him, though – George would probably just make fun of him for it anyway.
“Look,” Dream says in the same placating tone, rising from the sofa. “Why don’t we just leave it for tonight, cool off a little?”
Sapnap rolls his eyes. “What, and then George decides that he gets to pick the show again next time?”
“Next time, Dream and I are going to be watching without you,” George replies haughtily.
Sapnap raises his hands to press the bases of his palms into the hollows of his eyes, drawing in a long, deep breath as he tries to keep his cool.
“What? Gonna start crying like a baby?”
“God, just shut up, George! What’s your problem?”
“Guys!” Dream interjects again. “This is exhausting, c’mon. Please. I’m tired, okay? I’m going to bed, maybe you guys should too.”
“Yeah, I will! After I figure out what George’s fucking problem is!”
George snorts. “You’re cute when you’re angry.”
A knot pulls tight in Sapnap’s gut at the taunt, knowing that George doesn’t actually think he’s cute, not in the way that Sapnap wishes that he did. “You’ll look cute after I break your face with my fist,” he snaps, pleased when that pulls an amused snort out of Dream.
“I’m leaving,” Dream says when George spins around to glare at him. “This is ridiculous. Please don’t kill each other.”
Sapnap watches him leave the room, wanting to scream in frustration. “I was excited to watch One Piece with you guys, you know?” he spits at George after the door clicks shut behind Dream. “Like, I was actually looking forward to it. And you just had to go and ruin the whole night, didn’t you?”
George is still sitting, slender legs splayed out as he lounges back against the sofa as though he doesn’t have a care in the world. “No one wanted to watch that dumb show. Maybe you should stop being so whiny, hmm? You’re like a little baby. Always complaining.”
“You’re infuriating! I’m so sick of your shit, George.”
“Oh really, Sapnap?” he asks patronizingly. “Why don’t you just leave then if you’re so sick of me? Oh, that’s right. You’re obsessed with me.”
Does George know? Sapnap doesn’t think he does, but sometimes he’ll say stuff like this and it’ll get him immediately panicking. “I’m definitely not. I wish you’d never gotten your stupid Visa! I wish you never fucking moved here!” Sapnap knows he’s gone too far the moment that the words leave his lips.
George visibly winces, brow drawing in and hurt flickering across his face before it’s quickly pushed away, his face hardening.
“I didn’t mean that,” Sapnap adds quickly, but George’s expression doesn’t soften.
“You think I care what you think? I wouldn’t want to be here at all if it wasn’t for Dream. You’re just an annoying add-on.”
“That’s not true.” Sapnap is wondering, though, if it actually is. The insecure part of him is screaming right now, telling him that George really does mean the things he says, but they only come out when they’re fighting.
It’s one thing to know that George doesn’t love him the way Sapnap loves him, but it’s another entirely to think that he really doesn’t like him at all.
“It is.”
Sapnap feels like he might actually start crying, and the absolute last thing he wants is for George to see that – it would just give him something else to mock him for. “Fuck you, George. I’m going to bed.”
His voice comes out a little choked, but George either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “Ha! Gonna run off and cry, Sapnap?”
He pauses, tilting his head back in his direction. “I’m just trying to resist the urge to beat the shit out of you.”
“You wouldn’t dare. You’re too much of a coward.”
Something snaps in Sapnap’s chest. “Shut up! Shut up! What is wrong with you?” Anger feels easier than hurt, easier than letting himself be vulnerable. He steps back over towards George, who’s just stood up from the sofa, and shoves him. “I can’t fucking stand you – I can’t stand this shit, every single day!”
George’s expression is unreadable. “I don’t see why you had to make this into such a big deal. Why did you care so much about that stupid show?”
Sapnap growls low in his throat. “It’s not about that! Can’t you see that –” I just want you to love me, he thinks, and hates himself.
George snorts, clearly still entirely unaware of how genuinely upset Sapnap is – unless he just doesn’t care, which also seems very plausible. “What? Can’t handle a few jokes?”
Sapnap reaches out and shoves George again, hard enough that he stumbles back a step because at least it means that he gets to touch him. “That’s the thing, though –” he pauses to swallow, the lump in his throat having grown almost painful – “it doesn’t feel like you’re joking.”
George finally falters, looking a little confused. “What d’you mean?”
Fuck. He’s such an idiot. He wonders if George can tell that he’s blinking back tears. If he can, he at least has the decency not to mock him for it. For now. “Nothing. Shit. I don’t know.” He doesn’t like how exposed he feels right now, like there’s no way that George can’t see right through him, so he pierces him with a glare. “I really don’t give a shit what you think about me, though.”
“You act like you’re so tough, Sapnap, but you’re really just desperate for my validation, aren’t you?” George asks, back to taunting him with a smug smirk, obviously not deceived by his feigned indifference. “What, want me to cuddle you and kiss you and tell you I love you?”
“Maybe,” Sapnap says, and it comes out way more sincere than he’d intended it to sound. At the same moment, he realizes that he’s actually crying now, tears escaping from his eyes and rolling down his cheeks.
The number of different expressions that flicker across George’s face in the following few seconds is frankly impressive. Eventually, it settles into some kind of dumbstruck disbelief. “What?”
Maybe he can still make a joke out of this. He shrugs as casually as he can manage. “I said maybe. You deaf?” The words sound awkward as they leave his mouth, and he shifts nervously, suddenly uncomfortably aware of how close he’s standing to George.
“No, I heard you.” George’s tone is very different now, unusually tentative. “Why are you crying?”
Sapnap can’t help but laugh because he sounds genuinely confused. For some reason, the sudden shift in the mood is enough to make him feel significantly less defensive, enough that he takes a risk and is honest, for once. “Because you hurt my feelings, George,” he admits, then screws his eyes shut, bracing for the teasing that will probably come.
George doesn’t laugh. “Oh.” His voice is very small. “Um. What does ‘maybe’ mean?”
There’s an opportunity here to end their fight without letting things steer into the less-than-platonic territory that Sapnap should be trying to avoid, but he doesn’t take it. “It means…yes. To all of it.”
George reaches out and rests one delicate hand against Sapnap’s arm over the sleeve of his hoodie. He can’t for the life of him figure out what’s going through his head right now. “Do – do you want a hug?” The words leave George’s mouth like they’re physically being wrenched out of him with a crowbar, but Sapnap’s heart flutters anyway.
“Yeah,” he whispers, and then George’s arms snake around his torso, and he’s yanked in roughly enough that he crashes against the solid weight of his body with a grunt. He squeezes him surprisingly tightly like he’s scared that Sapnap will fall apart into dust and blow away if he doesn’t hold him together.
They’ve hugged before, of course, but never really like this. George maneuvers them backwards without letting go until they fall into the sofa. He keeps his arms wrapped around Sapnap’s waist but raises his legs, folding them over his lap.
He rests his head in the crook of Sapnap’s neck. He can feel his eyelashes against his jaw, his lips against his collarbone. He can smell the vaguely fruity scent of his 2-in-1 shampoo.
He tries to remember how to breathe normally.
“What was it that I said? That hurt your feelings?” George asks quietly after a moment. Sapnap can feel the pad of his thumb rubbing absently back and forth over the small of his back. It’s only the fact that the touch is through the thick fabric of his hoodie that allows him to focus on anything else at all.
“It’s okay, George. I’m not – sorry, I’m not meaning to be, like, dramatic. It’s fine, really.” Sapnap feels dumb now, can’t believe he started crying over George’s stupid taunts. He should be used to it by now. He should be fine.
“Sapnap, please,” George presses. His breath is warm against Sapnap’s neck as he talks, and he has to fight not to shiver.
He wishes it was just one single thing, so he could tell George that, and maybe he’d apologize, and then they could just move on. He doesn’t know how to explain, though, that it was basically everything. The last thing he wants is to sound like the whiny baby that George accused him of being.
“I just sometimes feel like…you don’t actually like me that much, you know? For real, I mean.”
“What? Sapnap, you’re not being serious right now.”
He swallows. “I just – I don’t know, it’s a bit much sometimes? You always shitting on me the way you do, I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me that then, idiot?” George asks, then freezes. “I didn’t mean that, like, as an insult – sorry, is that not okay?”
“George. Stop. I know. You’re good, dude.” He pauses, daring to shift his hands a little from where they’re hovering awkwardly over George’s back down to rest on his hips. They’re, like, really cuddling. He’s never held George like this before. “I should’ve, I guess, I just – I thought you’d maybe make fun of me for it?” His voice gets higher as he speaks, and it’s a nervous squeak by the last word.
“I wouldn’t. Of course I wouldn’t. I thought we were just fucking around, I don’t know.”
Sapnap knows he should just let the topic drop now. It’s resolved or at least…resolved enough. He should let go of George’s waist and let him go and be stupidly grateful that he hasn’t pressed him about his admittance that he wants to kiss him and love him.
Instead of doing what he should do, he does the exact opposite, tightens his grip on George’s waist to hold him there against him and asks: “Why don’t you treat me like you treat Dream?”
“I – I don’t know. I just thought that, like, this is just how we act with each other, you know? It’s just the way our friendship is.”
“Well. I don’t want it. To be like that. I hate fighting with you so much, George.” He glances down and sees George’s brow furrowed in consternation against his cheek. “I don’t mean that I don’t like joking around with each other and stuff!” he hastens to add. “It’s just – a lot sometimes.”
“Okay,” George says quietly. “I’m sorry. I’ll try. You have to tell me, though, if it’s a lot.”
Sapnap tries not to be annoyed. He really does try. This is good, he should be stupidly grateful, not frustrated by little things. “I just want you to be, I don’t know, less mean?” he tries to clarify. “Like, I know you try to make me mad on purpose. Maybe stop doing that?”
“I – yeah,” George says, cheeks pinkening. “When you get angry, you get so passionate – like, I don’t know, okay?” George sounds flustered, and the rubbing of his thumb against Sapnap’s back has turned into a rhythmic tapping. “It just feels like it’s the only time when you really look at me, sometimes.”
“Because it’s the only time I can look at you without fucking –” Sapnap removes a hand from his waist to wave it vaguely in George’s direction – “undressing you with my eyes.” He can’t believe he just said that out loud. What the fuck.
George makes a choked noise halfway between a gasp and a laugh like he doesn’t know how to react. “Is now really the time for that kind of joke?” he asks after a second.
Sapnap can’t believe his luck in being given another out, but again his big stupid mouth doesn’t take it. “I wasn’t really joking.”
George tilts his head back to look at him, eyes wide. His cheeks are very red, and he looks more beautiful than anything Sapnap’s ever seen before in his life. He doesn’t look upset, to Sapnap’s relief, just shocked.
He doesn’t know where all of this bravery came from all of a sudden – any logical thought would have immediately stopped him in his tracks – but he doesn’t take it back.
He brings his hands up to cup George’s cheeks, holding his face in his hands and leaning back slightly so they can make eye contact properly.
“Does it feel like I’m looking at you now?” he asks.
He can hear George’s breath catch, his lips parting in surprise. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Yeah, it does.”
Sapnap holds his face in his hands and leans in to kiss him. George meets him halfway, lips immediately parting against his to kiss him deeply. Sapnap’s taken off guard by how enthusiastic he is, and George takes control of the kiss, shifting his weight fully into his lap and pressing him against the back of the sofa.
His hands curl into the fabric of Sapnap’s hoodie, holding him tight. Somehow, through the overwhelming stimuli crowding his brain, Sapnap focuses on how tiny his fingers feel against his back. His thumbs slip under the hem of the hoodie, and Sapnap can feel the pads of his thumbs against the small of his back as a deft tongue traces his teeth.
A few minutes pass before George pulls back, only an inch or two, and stares down at him with a startling softness in his eyes. His fluffy hair is mussed, strands falling messily over his brow, and Sapnap reaches up to brush them back behind his ear.
“I love you,” George whispers, and Sapnap freezes, hand hovering over his temple.
“What?”
George suddenly looks nervous. “I love you, I said.”
“Am I dreaming right now?” Sapnap asks breathlessly. This can’t be real. Surely this can’t be real.
“I don’t think so,” George says, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Sapnap follows the movement and notices how red and wet his lips look. He did that.
“Oh. Wow.” Unable to help himself, he leans forward and takes George’s lower lip into his mouth, kissing him again until he sighs against his lips. “I love you too, George,” he tells him. “I really, really love you.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
George has been driving Sapnap crazy the entire day, and he’s still driving him crazy now.
Just in a different way. A much better way.