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George, Sapnap, and Dream were sitting with one another in the café’s dining area, over snacks and drinks.
Dream was not having a coffee or anything, he was having a hot chocolate. So were George and Sapnap, although Sapnap had somehow found a tuna sandwich and Dream and George were sharing a chocolate croissant. It was originally Dream’s croissant, but then George had mentioned some stomach aches like he usually did when he was hungry and Dream offered his own croissant to him. Not the whole thing, but George was breaking off little pieces and Sapnap was looking at him in what he could only describe as distinct disappointment. Why, Dream didn’t know, but George was sitting right next to him. Originally, he’d sat by Sapnap. Then, he dragged the chair he was in over to Dream, declaring he wanted food. He’d gotten up and spoken to Sapnap for a bit when the latter wanted to show him something on his phone. Dream was fine with it, though. He liked giving his friends food! And George was usually the recipient of said food. He was the one who asked for it the most!
As for right then, George was sitting by him, picking one of the chocolate chips out of the croissant. Then, he looked at Dream, his eyes dark with...something. Dream averted his gaze immediately. Then, George seemed to be distracted by something. “Are your hands shaking?” He asked. Gently, he picked up Dream’s hand in his, and Dream felt his face heat up a little bit at the touch. He didn’t touch people often, even his own friends. It was a long story, he just—he didn’t feel like people actually wanted to touch him most of the time. Sapnap and George had only just gotten the ability to see him without a mask for the first time. George had immediately complimented how he looked, and Dream admitted that he didn’t like the way he looked but George said that he liked his face afterwards and added that he knew it wouldn’t help why Dream didn’t like his face but it was still something that George thought. He was a pretty opinionated and clear person, one of his best qualities really.
“Uhm—maybe a little.” Dream admitted, trying not to flush. On the other side of the table, Sapnap sighed and shook his head. George shot him a look, and Sapnap returned it dryly. “What? What’s that look for? Why do you look so disappointed?”
“Nothing.” Sapnap said. Biting his lip, feeling George release his hand, Dream settled his hands in his lap and rubbed his palms and fingers together. Bit the inside of his cheek. His skin burned where George had touched him, which was weird. It shouldn’t have been burning, there was no reason for it to do so, and the same went for where his and George’s legs were brushing together. He tried to give them some space, in case George didn’t want to touch him. George’s head dropped down, eyes flicking to somewhere between them. Shifting in his seat, Dream kept looking ahead at the croissant, shoved a little more in his mouth.
Eventually, he held out his hand. George, not Dream. Meeting Dream’s gaze, he arched an eyebrow, smiled and looked down at his hand. At some point, Dream had put his hands above the table. Swallowed again. “Just do the first thing that comes to mind. Come on.” George nudged him playfully, and Dream glanced at his hand. Then, reaching out, he poked George’s palm, right in the middle of it. It was an old game he had done with Sapnap and his own siblings in the past. Snorting, George pulled his hand away, rolled his eyes good-naturedly and said, “That’s such a thing that Bad would do, too.” I hope that’s a good thing.
They’d been talking earlier about crushes and stuff, teasing one another as George boasted about the people who he had dated in the past. As for Sapnap, he hadn’t been as impressed, only talked about the girls he liked since George was...not talking about girls. Decidedly. He was speaking about boys. And nonbinary people. Well, Dream guessed he was more of talking about men than he was boys, and Sapnap was doing the same for women and not girls, but—semantics. When they had, George had looked at Dream. Asked who, if there was anyone, in their classes who he would be fine with kissing. He had referenced a few people, including a few ladies as well as men—Sam and George in theirs being the two who apparently stood out. George had seemed...pleasantly surprised, and then seemed to think about it for a moment before asking Dream how long he had thought about kissing him. Flustered, because he had thought George was pretty for a while, Dream had made up some excuse about thinking about it for a quick moment and since he knew George and Sam better than most other people in the class, and he wasn’t interested in Sapnap. Sapnap had jokingly gotten offended, at which point Dream remarked that Sapnap wasn’t interested in people like Dream. This came with some more compliments from George, who then sat down next to Dream again.
Speaking of George doing things again, he held out his hand for Dream. “Come on. Do the first thing that comes to mind.” Dream stared at his hand for a little while, the way the light caught on the creases in his palm and the joints of his fingers, and the little bruises he had on the pads of each one where he had been working and probably stubbed them or something. There were callouses on his index finger and thumb, as well as a couple other places, where his camera rested as he took photos. Then, Dream slapped his hand down on George’s, curled their fingers together. “Ooh.” George said, a small smile lighting his face. Then, he curled Dream’s fingers around his more.
They had done this on the way over to the café, too, with George asking Dream about his first (and only) relationship. Both he and Sapnap had been shocked to discover Dream had not kissed someone yet, and George complimented his face again and got Sapnap to do so as well. He even managed to get their teacher to compliment his appearance when he didn’t have his mask off and she saw him. It was...kind of nice, even though Dream’s own facial dysmorphia meant he wasn’t able to even edit his own pictures without feeling about to panic or cry. George and Sapnap had promised not to take photos, though, and one of the first times they met George had literally covered Dream’s ID photo with his thumb to respect his privacy when he commented that he didn’t like how he looked.
Now, though, George waited a little bit until he curled his hand around Dream’s, putting their hands in a position like they were going to thumb-wrestle. Sapnap was still on his phone, scrolling through some social media or other. Maybe Snapchat? He liked to check up on his friends’ stories pretty often throughout the day, like an addiction. Either way, he wasn’t interested in what was going on, and Dream felt his thumb being prodded by the tip of George’s. “Boom. Boom.” George repeated, smiling. Then, he asked, “Where do you think the heart would be on a thumb, if you were the thumb?”
Dream paused for a moment. Thought. “Uhm. Here, I think.” He prodded his own thumb with his other hand’s index finger, right above the joint in the middle on the left side. He was pretty sure that was the left side. The thumb’s left. Not his. “Right? Yeah.”
After a little while, George laughed. “You suck at this.” He teased, trying to swipe Dream’s thumb and pin it down. He won a few times, though Dream wasn’t really trying and was more distracted by how George’s hand felt around his. His skin was soft. Swallowing, Dream looked at George’s face as he focused, feeling George continue to poke his thumb with his.
Earlier, when they had been holding hands, George had laughed a few times about how Dream wasn’t used to doing it and the way he had left his fingers spread out, showing him how to curl them. Usually, Dream didn’t touch anyone. He didn’t think they would be comfortable with him, or that they would like it. After all, he was too much sometimes. He’d made people uncomfortable, so touching them was just...not too worrying.
Even when they’d talked about what Dream’s type was, and he mentioned that it was someone that could carry him, George had simply scoffed and declared, “I could do that.”
Dream wasn’t sure that was true, and he even asked George if he thought he could carry Dream (a small part of him totally didn’t want George to offer to try, but no dice).
George had just looked at him and shrugged. Now, he let go of Dream’s hand again in order to go back to eating his croissant. Dream’s croissant. Oh well. He can have it if he wants to. Turning back to his own stuff, Dream answered a few questions that Sapnap had. He didn’t remember what they were, something about the classwork and then also some gossip about some classmates of theirs who wouldn’t stop talking and trauma-dumping during class. They had been reprimanded by the professor several times to stop talking, and they were a couple, and the whole reason Dream had even bonded with George and Sapnap in the first place was bitching over the pair and also because Dream defended their photos when the couple had given really bad criticism during a critique (telling someone to crop their photo? Constructive criticism. Declaring that their photo wasn’t good because the water was “too cartoony” of a blue in one photo, then “too dark” in the next? Not constructive criticism, and also a little weird considering that they were pictures of the ocean).
Eventually, though, George distracted him by poking him in the shoulder. Glancing down, Dream paused. George continued to poke his finger into Dream’s shoulder, through the sweater he was wearing. Blinking, Dream turned back to Sapnap. Continued answering questions. George, undeterred, kept poking him in the shoulder. When Dream tried to grab his finger gently, George pulled his hand away. Eventually, Dream turned. Looked at what he was doing, and then managed to curl his fingers around George’s delicately. Not trying to hurt him. Obviously. He didn’t want to hurt George, or anyone. But especially George.
When Dream settled his hand, still holding George’s finger, in his lap, George huffed and declared, “I am taken.”
“I mean, only if you want to be.” Dream replied, shrugging. George and Sapnap exchanged a glance, then went back to what they were doing. George sidled his chair a little closer, their knees touching again.
“So,” he began, looking at Dream. Turning his head in George’s direction (he didn’t really like eye contact, part of being ADHD), Dream hummed curiously, “You’ve never kissed anyone. Do you want to?”
Dream blinked for a moment.
“What?” He asked. George continued.
“Like right now. Would you kiss me?” He asked, sounding very confident. Face flushing, Dream turned back to the table. Shrugged.
“I mean, I don’t know. Probably not right now.” He admitted. Next to him, George hummed again. Most of their drinks were empty, so he asked, “Do you want me to take care of those for you two?” Sapnap just pushed his drink over, and Dream took it, his own, and George’s empty cups over to the trash. He could hear Sapnap and George chatting behind him. What about, he didn’t know, and he wasn’t going to listen. Just in case it was something private.
When he got to the trash, he dumped their empty cups, then picked up some litter that had fallen on the ground (some wrappers for sugar packets, a straw wrapper, and then a stir stick) and tossed them, too. Turning, he stumbled once. Caught himself. Overcompensated, and then the world was turning. Oops. Someone walking by met his gaze, immediately looking worried.
Then Dream hit the ground, grabbing at his ankle as it twisted and sparked with pain. Ow. When he clattered to the ground, he spotted Sapnap and George look at him. George looked worried, Sapnap went back to his phone as George pushed himself up. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Just my pride, Dream thought, pushing himself off the floor. “I’ll just hobble over there.”
“No, no, hold on.” George crossed to him, took his arm protectively and then helped him over to the table again. “Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?” Shaking his head, Dream smiled at him.
“No, I’m fine.”
+++
Later, Dream would tell Bad the whole story, promptly realize that he was a fucking idiot, and bemoan the fact he had not picked up on any of George’s flirting until after the fact. And then he came up with a plan. He would see George the next day, or the day after that for their class.
He’d ask him then.
Maybe.
(Bad asked him to continue updating him as the situation continued, apparently interested in Dream’s otherwise stagnant love life and very supportive in it.)