Chapter Text
Medical school might have been a stupid decision. Sure, Dream had the brains for it. He had the skill, the mental stamina. But if there was one thing that would surely kill him before he graduated, it would be the endless studying he had to do.
Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if he enjoyed studying a little more. But it filled him with this dread, this heavy unbearable dread. It turned straight into a chaotic ball of stress, perched right above his ribcage, threatening to snap at any second. Sapnap kept telling him the stress was going to kill him before he could get the damn degree. And maybe, just maybe, his best friend was right.
“Are you going to be leaving anytime soon?”
Dream hates when people try to talk to him while he’s studying. It’s a sacred time, and anything or anyone who disrupts the bubble of tranquility ends up on his shit list. A deep sigh falls from his parted lips and he runs his hand through his hair. He looks up to his right. The voice had come from beside him, a figure only a dark silhouette, sunlight streaming through a nearby window flashing across Dream’s eyes intensely. He can only make out a shadow, lanky, medium height, and too close for comfort.
He pulls his hand from his hair and desperately attempts to block the rays of light that assault his vision, “I’m sorry, what?”
“I said, are you going to be leaving anytime soon?”
Finally, Dream’s vision clears enough for him to truly see the person standing beside him. He’s what Dream expected, that slender build with a head of fluffy brown hair. His face is tightly set, waiting expectantly for something . What, exactly he is waiting for, Dream doesn’t know. He also isn’t sure he cares to find out. He has an exam on Monday, and if he can’t get through the next two hours of work, he may as well drop out.
“No,” Dream says plainly, “I’m not.”
The stranger’s face sours more, dark eyebrows knitting up tight on his head, lips twisting in a distinct, but not unpleasing way. “This is my table.”
“ Your table?” Dream can hardly believe he’s having this conversation. It’s reasons like this that he hates leaving the house. And he wouldn’t leave the house, if it weren't for the fact that being in public is one of the only ways he can ever get himself to really focus on his work. Studying just feels different when you’re sprawled across a library table, or holed up in some coffee shop that smells like heaven’s gates. There is a unique feel to it, and this prick isn’t going to ruin it. Not today, anyway.
“I sit here everyday from nine to noon. Every. Single. Day.” The man keeps on.
“So?” Dream doesn’t let himself mind pleasantries. He wants this intrusion to go away, even if it is, somehow, a bit intriguing.
“ So ? That’s all you have to say?” The stranger throws his hands out to the sides, “Where am I supposed to sit?”
Disbelief washes over Dream like a wave, his shoulder rotating to the side. The coffee shop is small, only a few booths and tables. His current table is well placed, close to the big windows but facing in a direction that doesn’t create glare on the computer screen. Greenery drapes across the ceilings and walls, plants climbing each corner, he feels hidden in his own little Eden. There are at least two or three other tables that he can see that are completely empty and Dream rotates back with even more venom in tone, “I don’t know. Maybe that table over there? The one that doesn't have anyone sitting at it?”
The stranger stares for a moment. If only Dream weren’t a stubborn asshole, maybe this pretty boy would have gotten his way. He seems used to getting his way at least, the defiant stance of his feet, the way his arms are crossed tightly over his chest, as if in a defensive stance.
“Forget it.”
Dream can’t help but chuckle as he watches the brunette figure stomp away towards one of the open tables. He throws down his backpack and pulls out a laptop. His movements are harsh and forced. Dream imagines steam flowing out of his ears, hot and heavy. The stranger must still feel someone looking at him, and he glances up with a glare. Their eyes lock. Dream doesn’t look away. Only let’s himself give smirk.
All the stranger offers in return is the middle finger.
It’s after hours, that Dream decides to pack up and leave. The stranger is still eyeballing him occasionally, as if trying to gage what the next move will be. The only reason Dream let’s him win is because any more studying may literally kill him. His muscles are tense, his body is taut. Everything hurts when he moves. He sits up straight, cracks his back from side to side and stands.
Times like these make Dream think becoming a surgeon isn’t worth it after all.
He knows he’ll be back though. There is something about the stranger’s attitude that has him a bit twisted. Dream has something to prove.
***
There is only one way that Dream likes to wind down from studying. It’s unhealthy, he’s aware, but he can’t help but drive straight towards Sapnap’s apartment. He parks, leaves his junker of a car in the spot Sapnap never uses, and locks the doors. After two quick flights of stairs he finds himself walking right into suite 3E, not even bothering a knock. The apartment smells too much like home, mixed with a bit of something deeper, a candle Sapnap is burning maybe, amber and pine.
“Sapnap, I’m here!” Dream calls out, nice and loud, throwing his shoulder bag to the ground, probably a bit too hard considering it holds his laptop and textbooks. There is a loud rustling from the office and Sapnap’s face appears quickly, peering around the corner, headphones over his ears. He pulls them off and sets them on his desk.
“Dream,” He says plainly, “You didn’t even text.”
“Sorry, sorry, I just…” Dream starts walking towards his counterpart, the tension in his neck already starting to melt away, “I know I should have texted but I’ve been studying all morning… and…”
“Jesus, Dream,” Sapnap groans, “Ever since I let you fuck me, you won’t leave me alone now, will you?”
“C’mon,” Dream teases, “I know you love it.”
A deep flush covers Sapnap suddenly, an admittance in itself. His face is not cleanly shaven, hair tucked under a hat, but there is still something so endearing in it that fills Dream with a rush of total satisfaction. He wraps his arms around the shorter one lovingly, pulling their bodies close. The heat is immediate and intense. Sapnap turns his head away shyly, “Jesus, Dream. C’mon. You don’t even give me a few minutes of warning? We don’t even just hang out as friends anymore, do we?”
“Sure we do,” Dream chuckles, “And we will. How about that movie you wanted to watch the other day? It will be nice and relaxing. After I ruin you, of course.”
There is a beat of silence. Dream doesn’t read into it, because he knows exactly what Sapnap’s answer will be.
“God,” Sapnap groans, “Fine, but one of these times you’re going to bottom.”
“Like hell I will.”
“Fuck off you idiot,” Sapnap playfully shoves Dream, “You’re trying to make me forget I’m a switch.”
“It’s a good plan. It’s a plan that I think might actually be working, hm?”
They fall into the pattern so easily. Bodies moving in unison, practice serving them well as they push backwards into the bedroom, falling slowly onto Sapnap’s bed, Dream hovering over the other.
It had been months since they had started this. And God, Dream had loved every single second, every single moment of it. What started with simple uninterested handjobs had moved so quickly, not that he would ever complain. Sapnap is his best friend, and their relationship has only seemed to get stronger, more intense. It amazed Dream, how friends with benefits could actually work when there was a strong enough foundation. It was fun, so much fun, Dream couldn’t help himself. He knew other people would judge. Such a stigma around the friends with benefits label. Too much complication. But every time Dream started to worry about that, it would wash away in a single conversation. All his worries falling down the drain, disappearing for good.
There was no amount of restraint in the entire world that could pull him away. The best part of it all was that he trusted Sapnap with every inch of himself, knew he wouldn’t lose the other, couldn’t lose the other, not after all this time. Not after everything. It was a bond he knew most people didn’t have, or maybe even couldn’t have. But he had it. He was the lucky one. And he had promised himself to cherish it. Until the very last time.
A moan slips from Sapnap’s lips, the flush on his face growing somehow deeper. Dream lets himself run his fingers up under Sapnap’s shirt, watches and relishes in the way his body responds to the touch. Studying and school are the last thing on Dream’s brain now, completely forgotten in the rush of adrenaline, the rush of ecstasy that starts to spread across his body like a live wire. He loves the control, loves the power he has, watches so intricately as Sapnap starts to fall apart at the seams, so quickly. The amount of trust he feels Sapnap giving him urges him on, heart racing, and Dream quickly pulls the rest of the clothes from Sapnap’s body, one piece at a time. Admires the way the flush is spread to his shoulders in a gradient so beautiful it should be painted and hung in a museum.
“Oh, I’m going to make this last,” Dream whispers against the other’s chest, the faint smell of soap stained there, followed by the gentle scent of Sapnap’s cologne. He licks up, towards Sapnap’s neck, bites playfully at his collar bone, and nearly loses control at the way Sapnap moans again. “Tell me if you need me to stop. Tell me.”
It’s a precaution Dream set up with Sapnap after their first real time together. It had come so unexpectedly, and Dream had feared he overstepped, feared things were too good to be true. He knew how rough he was, he knew how demanding he could be. Both of them understood that there was something nearly animalistic about Dream when he got this way, something that longed for power and control. In the middle of their flushed bodies, their broken noises of begging, Dream became something more. Something different. Dominance made him feel like a God. Like a tyrannical King. It would take them hours to analyze it in fullness.
The safeword had been established early on. It was arguably the most important precaution of this entire situation. Dream would never forgive himself if he hurt Sapnap. He would never forgive himself if he took it too far.
“I will,” Sapnap whispers in reply, hands weaving through Dream’s hair softly, “I’m not scared of you, Dream.”
Of course he’s not. There’s that damn trust again. Dream shakes his head, pressing his forehead to Sapnap’s tightly. Their noses align, their lips nearly brushing, “Safe-word if you need to. I know you’re not scared. But that doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be.”
He feels like a killer. He feels undeniably wild, biting his lip to keep his brain in check. He thinks he might be scared of himself, if this was the other way around.
“I can handle myself,” Sapnap says, “I have every other time.”
Of course, he’s not wrong. This is a familiar dance, a familiar scene. A familiar conversation, just like the countless others right before the symphony, right before the roll of the drum, the crash of the cymbals.
“Okay,” Dream pushes forward just an inch to lock their lips together. He’s the luckiest man in the world to have a best friend like Sapnap. His heart swells almost violently, and he scoops Sapnap up, flips him over so he’s on all fours. He watches with a surge of desire as Sapnap’s head hangs down limply, submitting himself completely. “Tell me if I go too fast.”
Dream has to use an unworldly amount of control over himself. The beginning is always the hardest part. Sapnap’s comfort is more important than anything. Later, he will be able to let the animal side of him take over, but the beginning has to be done the right way. Pleasure on both ends has always been so important in this agreement. It has to be mutual. He refuses to simply use Sapnap like that. He wants, no, he needs Sapnap to feel good too.
The lube is in a familiar spot, the side table just an arms length away. Dream lets his hands run over Sapnap’s back, watches as his whole body responds and arches into the touch. Slowly his hands dip lower, running so softly over his hips, his thighs. It’s an intricate ritual. He pulls hundreds of moans from Sapnap’s lips, watches the flush spread to all parts of his body. His cock hangs between his legs, already a similar hue, already hard from just the moments they have had together. If there was anything to be said about their connection, it’s erratic, a surprise each time that makes the build up nearly unbearable. There is a sense of unknowing, a sense of unpredictability.
“Don’t be such a tease,” Sapnap groans, his voice low and sultry, “You came here for something. Take it already.”
Dream’s fingers tighten on the other’s thighs, making white impressions on the flesh underneath his fingertips. A gasp falls from Sapnap’s lips, a curse following right after. Dream bites the inside of his cheek again, harder, tasting blood. Anything to keep him from losing it so early on.
“Don’t talk to me like that,” Dream’s voice is somehow so calm, so even. His tone is not light, but not harsh either. He pulls one hand away from Sapnap’s ass, and makes quick work of undoing the cap of the lube. It’s intentional, the way he watches the lube fall onto Sapnap’s skin. It coats too much of his flesh, making too much of a mess. The dim lights of the room reflect off of it as it drips along Sapnap’s body.
“Fuck, Dream,” Sapnap curses, shifting his body weight further towards Dream, so his shoulders are a bit lower than his hips.
“For someone who claims to be a switch you sure are hungry for this.”
No response comes from the smaller, just a further push of his hips. Dream grins to himself, eyes unable to tear away from the sight before him. He doesn’t take too much time slicking up two of his fingers, before pushing into Sapnap without much of a warning.
The yelp that comes from Sapnap’s chest is laced with pain. A pulse shoots through Dream, lighting him from the core. If his boxer briefs weren’t uncomfortable before, they sure as hell are now. He shifts himself to relieve some pressure, palms himself thoughtlessly with his free hand as he pushes his other fingers deeper.
He’s losing himself. He feels it start slow. The more pleasure he allows himself, the foggier his brain starts to get. Everything in him pushes to focus on the prep, focus on stretching Sapnap as much as possible. To prevent pain from happening later on. But his chest is rising and falling so rapidly he feels his limbs start to shake. Teeth clench like gears, rough, lacking oil. The pound of his heart rushes his breathing until he’s panting so audibly, Sapnap turns his head to look back at him. The blush over his cheeks is world ending.
“It’s okay, Dream. Go ahead. I’ll safeword if I need it.”
What’s wrong with him? How could someone crave to hurt another person like this, to take power over someone like this? Someone as incredible and kind as Sapnap? Dream feels confliction build, nerves starting to take over. He knows he won’t hurt him, knows he wouldn’t, but a part of him still can’t quite understand this need for such intense dominance.
He staggers on the edge of certainty.
“I’m telling you to,” Sapnap continues, urging him on, “I want you to, Dream. I want it.”
It’s enough.
Dream lets himself go. In seconds, he has three fingers pressed tightly into Sapnap, the heat almost unbearable on his fingers. A throaty gasp falls from Sapnap’s mouth, turning nearly to a scream. He stretches and works his fingers with experience, each movement purposeful, to loosen, to illicit undeniable pleasure.
“I’m going to ruin you,” Dream pants, “I’m going to make you wish you could have me every second, every single fucking day.”
He curls his fingers, set on finding the other’s prostate. It takes only two or three pumps of his hand to find it, and he watches with pure joy as Sapnap’s entire body responds. Dream no longer shakes, no longer restraining the urges coursing through him. Now Sapnap trembles instead. A soft whimper floats around the room, a continuous and beautiful chorus.
Dream doesn’t relent. He keeps pushing forward, hitting the same sweet spot over and over again. Sapnap moans with each caress, shakes from the pleasure that rips through his body. As Dream works Sapnap open, he starts to slowly undress himself. Let’s himself start thinking of his own very near ecstasy.
“You want it like this?” Dream taunts harshly, “On all fours? Taking me like the slut you are?”
The whimpers grow into slow sobs, “Yes, God yes, Dream.”
Dream reaches around with his unoccupied hand and knocks Sapnap's wrists out from under his body, so his shoulders fall further towards the sheets of the bed. He catches himself with his elbows, sticking his ass far up into the air now, on perfect display.
“That’s better.”
He pulls his fingers out and admires the way Sapnap’s body moves with his hand, searching, begging, desperate.
Dream grabs his own cock, hisses in the way the friction feels, even his own hand. His hand is already covered in lube, the mess from earlier somehow helping now. It takes only seconds to prepare himself, before he’s lining up with Sapnap’s entrance, his body so hot, everything culminating in these mere milliseconds.
He pauses himself, sober for a moment to simply say, “Are you okay?”
The broken sobs that are leaving Sapnap’s chest pause and relent a small, sad, chuckle, “I’m okay , you fucking idiot. I’m more than okay.”
Dream pushes in, all the way until his own hips are tightly pressed to Sapnap’s ass. He’s sure all of the neighbors, 3F, 3D, maybe even 4E, know his name. Sapnap screams it like a chant, like a song, it bounces around the room with vindication.
Every single atom in Dream’s body now has the same desire. He wants to break Sapnap. He wants to pound him into the mattress until he’s nothing but listless begging and pleading. Until he can’t take anymore. Not a single second.
So that’s exactly what he does.
His fingers wrap around Sapnap’s shoulders and seem to slot there just perfectly. The grip is tight, just right for his hips to move at a gruelling speed, each time they meet Sapnap’s body there is a dull pain, an ache even. He wonders if his own hips will be bruised from the force. He wonders if Sapnap will feel him tomorrow. Feel him for the rest of the week. Wonders if he will ever forget the way it feels.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God ,” Sapnap is chanting, his chest moving in awkward patterns as small cries still slip past his lips. Dream swears he catches the slightest glimpse of a tear falling from Sapnap’s cheek to the sheets below.
And fuck, it shouldn’t make him feel so alive.
He’s chasing his own pleasure blindly now, angling in the way that feels so tight, so good. He doesn’t even think about Sapnap’s pleasure until he hits his prostate accidentally and the most sinful noise rips from the other’s throat.
“I’m not gonna last,” Sapnap begs, his body shaking with each powerful thrust. His arms are folded over on one another, head pressed to the inside of his forearms. Dream takes one hand from his shoulders, runs it along the curve of his back. “Dream please, I’m not gonna last.”
The hand Dream had placed on the other’s back becomes vicious, clawing marks into Sapnap’s skin. Blood doesn’t surface, but red, hot, angry marks do. It feels inhumanly fulfilling. He flattens the palm of his hand there, feels Sapnap push up against it for reassurance.
“Are you going to cum?” Dream breathes, leaning over, ghosting his lips along Sapnap’s spine. “Are you going to cum from just my cock?”
“I - ah, fuck - oh my God, yes. Dream, yes. Yes, yes, yes,” The words slip off into unintelligible phrases, as if he loses the ability to speak. As if his entire body belongs to Dream.
It doesn’t seem possible to pick up the pace. This is the hardest, the fastest they have ever gone. Maybe it’s not the longest, but Dream relishes it anyway. The feeling, the sound, the smell of it all. And that desperate, dominant part of him, somehow pushes ever harder, even faster. His cock is railing into Sapnap at an unprecedented pace, thrusting again, and again. Punctuated with purpose. Aiming for his prostate if he can control the erratic movements at all.
“Oh no, oh no, no, no.”
Whimpers from Sapnap’s lips dissipate into nothingness as his entire body quakes, and his cock spills in between his thighs, right onto the bed sheets.
Dream knows why he says those words. He knows why panic starts to fill Sapnap’s core.
Dream isn’t done yet.
It takes only seconds for Sapnap to become overstimulated. His moans start to turn solely into cries, his elbows struggle to support the front half of his body at all. The image is nearly enough to send Dream right there, right over the edge as it is. But another thing is caught in Dream’s brain, that doesn’t let him. In fact, it slows him down, fills his heart with a slight pang of guilt. He doesn’t stop his hips, doesn’t feel like he can properly make any decisions unless he gets an answer. Unless he is told.
“Do you want me to stop?” He grits, teeth clenched in restraint again, “ Babe, do you need me to stop ?”
There is a moment of silence. The room is so warm.
“No,” It’s barely audible over the sickening sounds, the snap of Dream’s hips, “ Please don’t stop.”
Dream knew the answer, but is relieved to hear it. Needs to hear it. He wouldn’t let himself become a monster. Wouldn’t let the dominance go too far. He cared far too much.
He chases his high with reckless abandon. The look of Sapnap, fucked out and pushed into the bed is dizzying, and he moves his hands to the other’s hips now, crafting bruises there. It’s a beautiful sight, blue and purples popping up too quickly, too harshly.
“I’m almost done,” Dream groans, “You’re so fucking good. So fucking good for me.”
And it’s true. Because Sapnap is the best thing that has ever happened to him.
He’s on the cliff. Seconds away from falling off the edge. He leans forward and picks Sapnap’s body up in his arms. His hands are wrapped around Sapnap’s torso, touching the front of his chest, and he leans him back so Sapnap’s weight shifts down, pushing him impossibly further onto Dream’s cock. They stay like that for a moment, as if Sapnap is sitting on his lap, facing away from him, before Dream starts to fuck up into him again.
“Fuck,” Sapnap cries, his whole body bobbing up and down, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me... ”
The begging is what does Dream in.
He cums so hard he worries he’s crushing Sapnap’s ribs, arms wrapped around him like a vice. His entire body is unraveled as he fills Sapnap up, pumping into him the final times. His movements start to slow, hips now moving without a rhythm.
When they are finally still, Sapnap is breathing so hard Dream worries he has over done it.
“Sap,” Dream whispers on the back of his neck, “Sap, are you okay?”
“Fuck,” Is all Sapnap says at first. His words are shaky and he lets out a broken laugh, “Yes, yes you idiot. I’m okay.”
They don’t move for another minute, Dream still slotted inside of Sapnap, Sapnap’s weight holding them together. Dream lets his fingers run over Sapnap’s skin, soothing him with deep rubs. He ghosts his hand over the other’s crotch, adoring and relishing as he hears an open mouth sigh, He massages thighs, works over Sapnap as if he is a holy. As if he is sacred.
And the sky knows he is.
“You ready for me to move?” Sapnap asks after a moment, his voice quiet, still trembling slightly, “You coming down from your high?”
Dream knows he is. He feels the wash of power, feels the dominance receding. Starts to feel more like himself, like he’s in his own body. He gently, ever so gently, pulls Sapnap off of his lap and lays him on the bed, falling beside him slowly. They touch innocently for a moment, letting a calm silence spread over them.
“Ready to watch that movie now?”
They laugh in unison, filling the room up with such gentle admiration.
“Can we shower first?” Sapnap asks, “But yes, it’s just on Netflix.”
Their dance continues, that familiar waltz, into the shower for a quick clean. Then to Sapnap’s couch, where they sit side by side, cuddling the way they had since they met all those years ago.
Right before they turn on the TV, Dream can’t help but look towards his best friend. He admires the way the light from the screen bounces off the angles of his face.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Dream says again, “I’m sorry I didn’t text you before I came over.”
“Forget it,” Sapnap smiles at him, “This is your apartment as much as it’s mine. Just because we fuck sometimes now doesn’t mean you’re not my best friend. Now, will you shut up and make us some popcorn? I’m not sure I’m going to be able to move for a whole week.”
***
The next week Dream goes back to the coffee shop. Hell, he knows it’s petty. But there is something in him that needs to see that stranger’s face twist up again, his lips in a line so tight and thin. He gets there at eight in the morning, knowing full well he would beat the other to the table. Once his cold brew is in his hands, he walks right over to the perfect table and sets up his computer. Today’s studying is organic chemistry, something he hates to love. His ego is a bit too big, being the only student in pre-med to pass his first organic chemistry class on the first try a few years ago. Pride doesn’t let him forget it.
It’s not even quite nine when a familiar figure storms up to his table.
“Oh,” Dream looks up with a cocky grin, “Hello there. Can I help you?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” His arms are crossed over his chest again and Dream can’t hold back the laugh that spills from his lips.
“I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“Oh,” The stranger yells, “Yeah, that’s cute. That’s very cute .”
“Aw,” Dream gushes, “You think I’m cute?”
The red that covers the stranger’s face is glorious. He swallows, nervousness showing itself outright on his face. Dream can’t help but eat up every second of it.
“You know, I could just sit right here. There are two seats after all. You don’t own this place, and I’m assuming no one is coming to join you. You don’t seem to be a very agreeable person. Live alone. Work alone. Die alone.”
Dream thinks indulgently to himself that Sapnap would disagree. He can be very, very agreeable when he wants to be.
“Fine, sit then.”
The stranger falters, face dropping from it’s uptight grimace, “What?”
“I said,” Dream pushes, “ Sit then .”
He watches the stranger intricately, trying to read him. Trying to see his next move. It’s a game of chess he is determined to win.
“Fine,” The word falters in the air, and Dream watches as the pretty boy slides into the chair opposite of him. He slowly starts to unpack his bag. Intrigue washes over Dream. This person was so determined to have his table, to not back down from the challenge, he was willing to sit feet away from someone he didn’t even know.
Dream’s stubbornness has never been so closely matched.
He could be a murderer for fuck’s sake.
“I’m Dream, by the way.”
“George,” George says, his voice still lacking confidence, “Now will you leave me alone? I have to study organic chemistry. If I fail this class, I’m forcing myself to drop out of pre-med once and for all.”
Oh.
Now this , Dream thinks, this is very, very interesting .
***
Dream meets Sapnap at a diner that night for dinner. It’s a burger and shake kind of place, and they slide into a booth in the far back corner without much conversation. It’s late. Maybe too late, but Sapnap works weird hours with his job, something Dream still can’t quite get used to, despite how proud he was over it.
“How was your stream today?” Dream asks as they peruse the menu.
Sapnap shrugs, “Pretty good.”
“Sometimes I think I’m an idiot for going hundreds of thousands of dollars in debt to be a surgeon. I should have just decided to be a content creator like you. You know, hang around my apartment all day and have people just fawn over me on twitter.”
An exasperated huff comes from across the table, “Yeah, because it’s so easy.”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that. I’m joking.”
“I know.”
“I do wonder though,” Dream bites, “What they would think if they knew I was railing you every other day.”
Sapnap chokes on his water, “You’re so full of yourself. You know that?”
“Yeah, yeah I do.”
Once they order, their conversations drift in tens of different directions. How’s school? What games are you playing? Did you pass that exam? Back and forth until somehow, of all topics, they end up talking about George.
“Wait,” Sapnap laughs, “You’re telling me that you purposefully beat him to the coffee shop to steal his favorite table, and then you ended up sitting with him for like, two hours?”
In retrospect, it sounds so fucking stupid. Dream laughs back, “Well, yeah.”
“You have the biggest ego on the entire planet.”
If it was anyone else, the comment may have felt different. But he knows Sapnap, and knows that Sapnap knows him . He of all people understands how much of an act the ego can be. How powerless he usually feels.
Maybe it’s what drives him to crave it whenever he can.
“Well, what then, are you two friends now?” Sapnap continues pushing. Their waiter brings their food out, placing it in front of them. Dream watches as Sapnap picks up his burger and takes a bite. A bit of ketchup gets stuck on the corner of his lip and Dream can’t help but smile.
“Nah, I mean, I don’t think I’m going to go back. I had my fun.”
“Okay, fine, but you called him cute.” It takes a lot to crack Dream, but he feels the heat rise to his face and watches as Sapnap’s eyes widen. “Oh my God, you’re blushing , Dream. Wait, hold on, let me take a picture.”
“Shut the fuck up,” Dream puts his hand out in front of himself, blocking any potential blackmail, “I called him cute as like, I don’t know, a descriptor. Not as like, well, fuck, I don’t know. Not like that.”
Sapnap’s genuine surprise collapses into laughter. He shakes his head roughly, “You can say you like him. It’s not like...it’s not weak to admit you like someone. It’s human, you know. Not that you have much experience with that.”
The words send too many thoughts through Dream’s skull. He knows he’s fucked up. Hell, he near violently fucks his best friend every few days to get rid of his stress. He has an ego problem. He tries to fix everything in his life in unhealthy ways. He doesn’t think about his feelings or his emotions, and he comes up with too many excuses as to why he doesn’t do that.
So yes, he knows he has problems. Maybe one of them is admitting how he feels. A strange lump starts to form in his throat.
“Sapnap,” Dream says slowly.
“What?”
“You’re the most important person in my entire life.”
Sapnap freezes, locks eyes with his best friend, bites his lip cautiously, “Yeah? Well, you’re the most important person in my life too. But like, you’re not going to off yourself are you?”
Dream rolls his eyes, “No, you moron. I’m trying to be...I don’t know. Fuck you. I was trying to be sincere. I was trying to practice saying what I feel. Like you said.”
Sapnap softens and smiles a bit crooked, “I know, Dream.” There is a moment of silence. Then Sapnap says, “Thank you.”
***
Dream gets to fuck Sapnap. In return, he drives Sapnap everywhere he needs to go. This particular morning, he wants to get coffee before getting the weekly groceries. Dream accepts without a thought. Whatever Sapnap needs, he will do. Even if it meant walking to the end of the earth. Even if it meant selling his soul to the devil himself. His car is old and small, much like his own crappy apartment though, and he never understands why Sapnap doesn’t just buy his own car. His income is triple Dream’s, especially considering he would be in debt for the rest of his life thanks to med school. Sapnap’s twitter following can prove that he could afford a very, very nice car, if he really wants it.
But Dream doesn’t push it too hard. Maybe a part of him likes being Sapnap’s chauffeur. Maybe it’s the least he can do anyway.
“Where do you want to get coffee then?” Dream asks, turning on his blinker as they pull away from Sapnap’s apartment. The city is alive this morning, sun rising up over the horizon and forcing the two in the car to pull down the visors to shield their eyes.
“Don’t really care, but preferably somewhere local,” Sapnap is leaning against the window, staring out at the street. His hand is holding up his face, and Dream can’t help but look over to him, admiring the bruising he sees on the top of his collar bone. It sends a thrill through him.
Sapnap suddenly jerks towards Dream, “Wait, no, take me to George’s coffee shop.”
“What?”
“Yes. Yes, that’s exactly where I want to go.”
Disbelief washes over Dream. The idea of facing George again isn't something he thought he would be considering so soon. “C’mon, Sapnap. It’s not even that great of coffee. There are like, at least twenty better options on this side of town.”
Sapnap doesn’t even miss a beat before, “If you don’t take me there, you can’t fuck me for a week. No, two weeks.”
It’s a bit of a jab. Dream knows that Sapnap would miss it as much as he would. But Dream craves it. And maybe that is something different entirely.
“You’re lucky I have another exam this week.”
“I’m more than just stress relief,” Sapnap says playfully, “It’s about time you admit it, hot stuff.”
***
The coffee shop smells heavenly. Dream puts a hand on the small of Sapnap’s back as they walk inside. It’s still early, a bit before nine, but there is an undeniable silhouette in the corner window.
A strange thing happens.
Dream’s heart starts to beat a little faster. His hands suddenly feel clammy. He pulls them away from Sapnap and wipes them on his pants.
“Is that him?” Sapnap has turned to whisper, poorly, to Dream.
“That’s him.” He confirms.
Sapnap looks towards the window, far too obviously, and stares for a moment, before getting in line. “Yeah, you were right.” He says simply, “He is cute.”
“You’re such an idiot.”
They wait for their orders by the far counter. At some point, George notices them, and starts to look over occasionally, as if intrigued by Dream’s new counterpart. Another chess match, Dream thinks. He feels a bit stupid the way he starts to calculate how he can win this one. What actions he needs to take to stay one step ahead of George. He’s about to mention something to Sapnap when their drink orders are called, and his cold brew makes his hand immediately cold. In contrast, Sapnap wraps both hands around his warm americano.
“Shall we go then?” Sapnap asks, starting to walk towards the exit.
Dream’s feet don’t move. He feels his brain come to a crashing halt, feels like he’s perched on the edge of a canyon. “Wait, not yet.” He turns and pulls Sapnap with him towards the corner table. He doesn’t even know what he’s trying to do at this point, he just knows he wants to have the advantage. He wants to stay one step ahead.
When they near the table, Dream let’s go of Sapnap’s hand, “Hello, George.” He beams.
“You again,” George mumbles.
“I told you my name,” Dream smirks, “You don’t have to be so nervous to use it.”
“God you’re unbearable,” George looks towards Sapnap, eyebrows raised in surprise, “How do you stand him, then?”
Sapnap feigns indifference and just shrugs, “He grows on you, unfortunately.”
“You know, it’s rude to talk about somewhere like they aren’t even here. Or hasn’t anyone ever told you?” Dream is pushing this, maybe too far. But he can’t help but to love the way George’s face shifts, each statement a surprise, each move in their game of chess unpredictable. “We won’t stay long, so you don’t have to worry about leaving the table.”
Dream gets the exact response he was wanting. George’s entire body tenses, he turns to fully face him now, “You’re lucky I care so much about getting into med school. Otherwise I think I might have hit you by now.”
The thought of such a lanky figure taking a swing on Dream makes him burst out in laughter, “What, like it’s hard to get into med school?”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sapnap groans, turning back towards the exit and walking away, “This conversation is making me sick. Let’s go, Dream. I’m ready to go to the grocery.”
Dream holds his tongue, and starts walking backwards after his friend, still refusing to take his eyes off of the figure, lit so beautifully by the sun through the window.
George returns the smirk Dream had given him earlier, “Someone’s whipped, huh?”
Dream just shrugs, “Maybe so. See you around, George .”
***
Sapnap has a stack of at least 100 index cards in his hands. He’s flipping through them, butchering half of the pronunciations, but Dream doesn’t complain. He’s happy for the help. Each term he gets wrong gets set in a new pile on the coffee table. Each one he gets right gets added to the back of the stack. They’ve been at it for hours, the sky going dark long ago, and Dream knows he doesn't have long before Sapnap has to go and stream. He’s laying on the couch, Sapnap in the armchair, feet tucked under himself. Even here, even with Sapnap feet away, the studying fills Dream with a deep and terrible dread. If he weren’t so like himself, maybe he would have a therapist. Maybe he would talk about it. Maybe even eventually they would talk about his need for control. But until that day, until a colony is built on Mars, Dream would continue exactly how things are.
And is there anything so wrong with that?
“Stop looking at me like that,” Sapnap says, after flipping the next card to the back of the deck, “I’m streaming after this. I told you already. I don’t have time for you.”
Dream groans and rolls onto his side, “You hurt me.”
“Shut up. One of us has to make a living. I’ve been feeding you since last December.”
“One day,” Dream says boldly, “I’ll make up for it.”
“I know,” Sapnap replies gently.
They run through another few flashcards, Dream getting all but one right. Sapnap sets the piles down on the coffee table and stands up, “Alright, I think we need to take a break. I can’t stand this anymore. The words are starting to make less and less sense, and they didn’t even make sense to me to begin with.”
“Fine,” Dream rolls off of the couch and stands too, stretching his arms above his head, “Mind if I crash here at least? I don’t feel like driving back to mine.”
“Why, because you didn’t pay your water bill again?”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll call tomorrow and fix it.”
Dream shakes his head, “You don’t need to-”
“Consider it done. Now please, for all things good in this world, leave me alone while I stream. You can just use the bed. I’ll be around in the next few hours, but don’t wait up.”
He’s alone, after it all. Dream can hear Sapnap just a room over, talking to his chat. His voice is so animated and happy. Dream can’t help but wonder if he will feel that way one day, when he’s a real surgeon. No more studying, no more games, just saving lives. Doing what he is sure he was born to do.
Strangely, his thoughts shift to George. If there was one thing about George that Dream hadn’t expected, it was that he was in pre-med, of all things. He couldn’t imagine George taking the same classes he had, couldn’t imagine him in a crisis situation. Hell, the guy couldn’t even sit at a new table without throwing a fit. Maybe he was going into pediatrics. Yeah, that would make sense. That has to be it.
Sapnap’s bed is comfortable, incredibly so, but Dream can’t get himself to relax. His brain just keeps spinning on and on. He doesn’t even realize it’s been so long when Sapnap opens the door. His eyes have all but adjusted to the dark.
“Why the hell are you still awake?”
“Can’t sleep.”
Sapnap hums, playfulness evident, “Well, surprisingly, I’m not too tired if-”
The sentence doesn’t even leave his mouth before Dream grabs him and pins him to the mattress.
“Jesus Christ,” Shock is written on Sapnap’s face, “Dream.”
“Can I?” Dream’s mood shifts in the matter of seconds. He craves the control and the power. He might not be able to speed through medical school or fall asleep when he needs to. He might not be able to win mental chess with George each time. But this, this very human desire that burns in him, this is some way he can get control. And Sapnap, his body, his feelings, his pleasure ? Yes, Dream can control all of that. “Can I please, Sapnap?” He drops his head down, sucking on Sapnap’s collar bones, feeling the other squirm against him.
“Yes,” Is the hushed reply.
“I’ll run you a bath right after,” Dream offers, while his head is still screwed on right, while the fog isn’t as thick, “You barely ever use your tub.”
“If you insist,” Sapnap says gently, “But not the same position as last time, my joints are still pissed off about that one.”
“So vanilla,” Is Dream’s only response, “But okay. Anything you say. And remember, if you need to, remember to-”
“Dream,” Sapnap’s tone is so serious, “I know. I will safeword if I need to. I know. You don’t have to tell me every time.”
“Yes, actually. Yes, I do.”
If Sapnap is the canvas, then Dream is the artist and the medium. He makes masterful work of him. By the time he starts losing himself, a little too rough and a little too fast, Sapnap is screaming in bliss.
“Your neighbors are going to call the police on us if you don’t quiet down,” Dream taunts, “You’re being so loud.”
It doesn’t stop Sapnap. Maybe, Dream thinks, Sapnap likes to lose control the same way Dream likes to take it. And maybe, maybe that’s a really fucking good thing.
***
It’s stupid. Dream shouldn’t be worried. But he has been sitting at the table since ten till nine, and it’s well after ten now. George should have been here an hour ago. His cold brew is too watered down, ice having melted far too fast, and he is getting no studying done at all. He may as well have stayed home at this point. Anger starts to fill him, and he lazily clicks around on his computer, switching back and forth between two of his classes aimlessly. There is somehow so much work to be done and simultaneously, nothing to do. It feels like anything he decides to do would be wrong. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens his messages with Sapnap. He’s supposed to be streaming right now, but Dream texts anyway.
10:24
i can’t focus and am coming over. do u want coffee?
He sends the text without too much thought and puts the phone back into his pocket. Just as Dream is about to pack up and leave, the front door of the coffee shop chimes. Dream’s head snaps up automatically, and in walks George. He seems a bit off, hair disheveled, bags all around his eyes. He’s wearing sweatpants, which isn’t unusual, but there is something off about the way they fit, as if he’s been in them for a long period of time, giving and stretching around the knees. Dream doesn’t move, just sits and watches. Sits and waits.
George seems to be moving automatically. He gets in line and has his simple coffee, one cream and one sugar, in his hand in mere moments. He turns numbly and starts walking straight towards Dream.
“Can we just not today?” George doesn’t make eye contact as he falls into the open seat across from Dream. Words aren’t forming properly in Dream’s head, so he’s thankful for George’s request. There is a moment of total silence. It spreads out thick, like a blanket. It’s the first time there has ever really been a comfortable moment when they are together. It feels really strange. But Dream can’t deny that it also feels really good. “I don’t suppose you know anything about organic chemistry?” George’s voice is so bitter, so pissed. He drops his head into his palms and groans. “I’m going to have to drop out.”
This feels like a strangely important moment. Dream considers his options silently, thinks about what Sapnap told him at the diner those weeks ago. It’s okay to like someone.
“Actually,” Dream says, clearing his throat, “You’ve gotten surprisingly lucky with the person intruding at your table.”
George pulls his hands away from his face and looks at Dream sternly, “You’re such a dick, you know that? Can you answer anything without sarcasm? Just for once? I swear, I don’t even know why I bothered coming over here.”
Dream can’t help but laugh. George thinks he’s lying, making some snide and sarcastic remark. His laughter doesn’t help the situation either. George’s face starts to sour even more, if that is really possible.
“George, I know you think I can’t be serious, but I’m telling the truth.”
“Right, like you know O Chem.”
“Considering I was the only one who passed it first try in pre-med, I’m going to say that I know it pretty well. We aren’t great friends though.”
Shock and maybe disbelief appears on George’s face, “You’re kidding. You have to be kidding right now. You’re pre-med?”
Dream shakes his head, “No, no, I’m in med school right now actually.”
“This has got to be a fucking joke.” George looks up at the sky, “Ha ha, very funny.”
“I got a 520 on my MCAT.”
“I fucking hate you. I literally...oh my God. I hate you, Dream.”
It’s the first time George has said Dream’s name and it sends a shiver through him, rough and unexplainable. George starts to gather his things, despite having just sat down. He’s rushing, too many sporadic movements, and Dream sees what’s going to happen before it does. He hits his coffee cup, spilling it across the table and all over Dream’s lap. It’s scorching hot, and Dream can’t help the way he reacts to it, standing up and gritting his teeth. The pain is grounding, sends his heart into chaos. He tries not to react too much, worried that George will feel bad about his mistake.
“Oh shit!” George runs towards the counter, grabbing napkins by the handful, and returns to Dream, patting awkwardly over his midsection. Dream feels his shirt, having absorbed all of the hot liquid, burning against his skin. So he rolls his shirt up to keep it off of his skin. George stops dabbing when he sees Dream’s abdomen. A roll of satisfaction spreads through Dream, despite the pain. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“People get like, third degree burns from this shit all the time, and I just, God. Fuck everything.”
Two employees come to help, cleaning up the spillage on the ground.
“I should just leave, huh?” George says weakly. Dream has to look over at him, hearing a crack in the other’s voice. It sounds like he’s moments away from crying. “Even though I just walked nearly an hour here, I can’t stay here after making such a mess, and God, you should probably go to the doctor.”
Dream acts before he thinks. He gently reaches towards George and wraps his fingers around his forearm, “Take a deep breath, George. I will drive you, if you don’t mind stopping by Sapnap’s really quick so I can change. It won’t take more than a minute.”
Red rushes to George’s face, “Why are you suddenly being so nice? I spill boiling liquid all over you and you offer to drive me home?”
“Something like that,” Dream can hardly believe it himself.
George seems to contemplate for a moment. He adjusts the way his backpack hangs from his shoulders, and then looks up with a curt nod, “Okay. But only if you don’t mind.”
***
The drive is over as quick as it is started. They don’t talk at all, but somehow it isn’t uncomfortable. When Dream parks at Sapnap’s apartment, he gets out of the car without much of a thought. George doesn’t move to follow. He turns and opens his door again, “You can come in, you know. Sapnap won’t bite.”
George turns away shyly, “Well, I mean, I guess I just didn’t know if it would make your boyfriend jealous if I-”
“Woah,” A deep laugh comes from Dream’s chest, “My what?”
“He’s not your boyfriend?”
Dream can’t help but over analyze the question. He settles with, “Well, maybe a little bit.”
George steps out of the car and scoffs, “That makes like, no sense at all.”
They walk up the two flights of steps to 3E, and Dream walks in as usual. The apartment smells especially good today, and it takes little time for Dream to spot the diffuser in the corner. Some kind of citrus today. George follows Dream awkwardly, looking around the apartment with a poorly concealed curiosity.
“Dream? Is that you? Did you get my text? I asked for an americano like, thirty minutes ago.”
The voice comes from the office. Dream doesn’t know exactly what the next move should be, and he awkwardly calls back, “Sorry, I uh…” He lets his voice trail off. What is he supposed to say? He should announce the visitor. This isn’t even his apartment. “Can you come out here?”
A moment later Sapnap is walking out of the office. He’s wearing sweats and a black hoodie. Dream can tell he’s been editing videos all morning, just by the state of his hair. Surprise is very obvious on his features for a moment before he looks towards Dream, eyeing the stains all over his clothes, “What happened?”
“Oh,” Dream had almost forgotten about it, “It’s not a big deal, I just-”
“Oh shut up,” George groans, “I’m a clutz. That’s all. And Dream here decided to be a gentleman, or whatever.”
Worry doesn’t leave Sapnap’s face. He walks towards Dream, and somehow so casually, he lifts Dream’s shirt, exposing his lower abdomen. There are a few red welts, and Sapnap looks up to Dream, “Does it hurt?”
“It’s fine,” He pushes Sapnap’s hand down, “I’m in med school anyway. Shouldn’t I like, practice on myself. A little bit of triage?”
It is supposed to be a joke, but Sapnap ignores it and says, “You’re not working towards the burn unit, you idiot. A surgeon is a bit different.”
A sudden laugh leaves George’s lips, “Of fucking course you are going to be surgeon. I should have known. You’re such a surgeon. Your ego is the size of-”
“The entire universe?” Sapnap finishes.
And somehow, all three of them are laughing together. Dream forgets almost completely about the pain. Instead, focused on the way he feels. The way the apartment smells.
The way he can barely feel any stress at all.