Say You Love Me Again

by RonnieRoyale

Summary:

This is a stand-alone work. It is not necessary to read the first part of the series. All that connects them is the angst.

 

Dream and George - the dynamic duo. Sapnap is sick of being thrown to the sidelines, but no matter how many times they toss him to the vultures, he keeps coming back for more.

OR

Sapnap is not okay.

 

OR OR

Sapnap is not dealing with his new sexual relationship with Dream and George all too well. Especially because George is acting like a dick.

Notes:

Shoutout to my sis for beta reading. All the love and kudos to you my dude, for the patience I did not have.

Chapter 1: Hurt That You've Caused

“If it fucking bothers you so much then you do it!”

 

“It’s your turn! I’m not doing it!”

 

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do!”

 

“Fuck off, George, you know it’s your turn!”

 

“You’re so fucking annoying.” George spits, face red with anger and fists shaking by his side. He’s pressed up against Sapnap’s chest, eyes staring into eyes with intense red hot fire.

 

Sapnap’s teeth clench. “You’re such a prick, George.”

 

George’s lips turn up at that in a shit-eating grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes but mocks Sapnap all the same. “Oh yeah? At least I’m not a fucking pussy like you. Look at you. Come on, what are you going do? Hit me?”

 

Sapnap’s blood is boiling. “Just fucking take the trash out, George.”

 

“Or what?” George is still smiling in a way that has Sapnap’s knuckles itch to collide with his stupidly handsome face. Sapnap wants to see blood spill.

 

He’s silent for a second too long, brain completely consumed by the hot anger in his belly. George inches closer, his hot breath on Sapnap’s lips, eyes half lidded. The edge of the kitchen counter digs into his spine uncomfortably, but when he squirms George presses closer, chest to chest, knee tensing between his own legs and grinding up. A low moan escapes Sapnap despite himself, his face blushing a furious red.

 

Sapnap freezes, mouth partially open in a gasp, hands shaking from expectation. George’s tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip. It’s shiny, and so fucking kissable.

 

“What? Cat got your tongue?” George says, voice low and rumbling, before he pulls away with a raised eyebrow. Without his body heat Sapnap instantly feels cold, body sagging forward, the spell George had him under dissolved.

 

He wants to say something but his brain is mush and he’s hard in his sweats.

 

“You’re so pathetic, look at you, panting like a fucking dog. Take your own garbage out, I’m fucking bored now.” And with one last sneer to Sapnap’s crotch he turns on his heel and saunters out the kitchen, humming something under his breath.

 

The words ring in his head even when George disappears around the corner.

 

Pathetic.

 

George doesn’t use that word often, not after Sapnap told him exactly how it makes him feel, so George either forgot himself or said that shit on purpose. The word leaves an imprint on his heart, and with every pump it carves itself deeper and deeper, until all Sapnap can think about is how much of a shit friend George has been recently.

 

He’s a fucking asshole, is what he is.

 

There’s no fight left in Sapnap’s body. A minute ago he was ready to wind his hands around George’s throat and squeeze with everything he has. He feels sort of empty, defeated.

 

George does this more often than not nowadays, like he’s purposefully trying to dig under his skin and stab him over and over and he always smiles that annoying smirk which has Sapnap crave violence. It’s not like he expects George to be chivalrous to no end and coddle him every second of every day but a little empathy would be fucking nice.

 

Especially considering he had George’s dick in his mouth last night.

 

Sapnap is still pissed, grumbling under his nose as he ties off the black trash bag, shoving it away from him with more force than necessary before he grabs another one and starts going around the kitchen and picking up forgotten food wrappers.

 

George is just an asshole who does this shit on purpose. He wants a reaction, Sapnap knows, but fucking guess what, he’s annoyed, of course he’s going to go at George with twice the heat. But George always plays dirty and he’s always abusing the fact that Sapnap’s body is reactive despite himself.

 

It’s not fucking his fault that George is fucking sexy.

 

“Whoa – dude, you’re going to put a hole through it.”

 

Sapnap spins around, hand shoving an old chip packet into the bag so hard the shuffle of plastic fills his ears as he meets Dream’s eyes. Dream looks like he just woke up, hair ruffled and eyes half shut but sincere nonetheless.

 

“What the fuck is your problem?” Sapnap spits, turning away from his friend and going back to cleaning.

 

“What the fuck is your problem? Why are you being a dick?” Dream moves around him at a safe distance and clambers into one of their bar stools, swivelling in it absentmindedly. Realization dawns on his face and Sapnap hates how Dream can read him like a book. “Is it George? I heard yelling.”

 

Sapnap’s angry huff is answer enough.

 

“You both have to just fuck it out of each other, I’m sick of you two fighting all the time.”

 

“It’s not that simple.” Sapnap lets the bag slip through his fingers. He wishes it would be as easy as telling George to cut it out. They would kiss and hug, watch a movie maybe, fall asleep in each other’s arms. It sounds nice.

 

“What more is there? You guys have been friends for years. Whatever is going on, just work it out. Suck it up and apologise, Sap, then we can skip the part where you’re both sulky and annoyed and I get dragged into it.” Dream ends with a yawn, still clearly out of it.

 

Hold on, what? “Why the hell should I apologize? He started it!”

 

“Well I’m ending it! What are you, five? Just go kiss and make up, I’m done with you two bitching about each other constantly.”

 

“But it’s his turn to-“

 

“I don’t care!” Dream raises his voice, eyes hard and staring Sapnap down. Despite himself, Sapnap shrinks under his gaze, wanting nothing more than the floor to swallow him up.

 

It’s just not fair. It’s not even his turn to clean the mess George made earlier and now he has to go apologize? Why, so George can have the satisfaction of Sapnap crawling back?

 

Dream always takes George’s side, it’s really starting to piss Sapnap off.

 

“Well?” Dream says expectantly.

 

Sapnap knows he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. He could either hold his own, have both Dream and George be mad at him until he’ll have to apologize in a couple of days anyway because he can’t take that kind of tension.

 

Or he could go humiliate himself now and be done with it.

 

“Fucking fine.” With one last angry look at Dream he slowly drags himself up the stairs to George’s bedroom.

 

It’s just simply not fair. Why does it always have to be him who apologizes first? George hadn’t apologized to him once, not in their many years of friendship, not even when the three of them started sleeping together not long ago.

 

But even back then George had never been so mean to him. Is it something Sapnap did? It’s more likely George just enjoys making him feel miserable, which is a can of worms he does not want to open right now, not when he’s standing in front of George’s door, fist raised to knock but hesitating.

 

What if George yells again? At the end of the day Sapnap doesn’t want to fight, not anymore. He’s tired and all he wants is to lie down in bed and forget this day ever happened.

 

It’s now or never.

 

He raises his hand to knock again, hesitates, but it doesn’t matter because the door swings open to reveal a clearly annoyed George, standing there in just his pants. Sapnap’s mouth goes dry.

 

“What?”

 

Sapnap clears his throat. “I… I want to apologize.” He manages through a clenched jaw.

 

George looks just as uninterested as ever, but does eventually retreat back to his room, leaving the door open, as good an invitation as any. He sits in his gaming chair and turns around with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, what else do you want?” George says, not unkindly, but not nicely either.

 

“Just… so, we’re okay?” He doesn’t mean to ask it, but the way that George is still sat stiffly, as if Sapnap’s presence in his bedroom makes him uncomfortable, makes Sapnap want to rip his hair out.

 

George shrugs. “I guess.” And without another word he swirls his chair around to face his PC and goes to slip his headphones on.

 

Sapnap doesn’t know what comes over him. He knows George is like a ticking time bomb these days, ready to explode on him any second, but it doesn’t feel like the conversation should be over.

 

He says it before he thinks. “What are you playing?”

George sighs. “Can you leave? I’m busy.”

 

Something cold and sharp twists into Sapnap, and he feels his stomach drop to the floor. He wants to say something, anything, just to get George to at least look at him, but he can’t. His tongue is made out of lead and George feels like he’s light years away.

 

The explanation is right there on a perfect platter in front of his eyes; George just does not want Sapnap around.

“So… did you two make up?” Dream says from behind him, making Sapnap flinch where he stands.

 

George hums, headphones on his head but one side pushed back to listen to them speak.

 

It’s not really an answer so Sapnap nods, because George did say they’re okay. He wouldn’t have said it if it weren’t true, right?

 

Dream visibly sags in relief and an easy smile plays on his lips. “Good, I was wondering if I’d have to just jerk off by myself.”

 

George raises an eyebrow but doesn’t reply, instead focusing his attention on the game in front of him, fingers flying over the keyboard almost faster than Sapnap’s eyes can follow. He looks handsome like this, illuminated by his computer screen and face relaxed, so different to how he’s been looking at Sapnap recently.

 

“Did you not hear me?” Dream says impatiently, snagging Sapnap’s attention back. “I’m horny, I want to fuck.”

 

The way Dream has always been so unashamed of all topics of sex has Sapnap blush, because he had never been that way. The whole reason they started sleeping together is because Dream initiated it, first with George, then with him.

 

He doesn’t let himself think about how he went to George first, he can’t because he’ll cry.

 

“If you’re horny, it’s a you problem, Dream.” George says after a few seconds of silence. 

 

“Oh, please.” Dream says, voice low, as he steps around Sapnap and goes straight to George, bending down a little to push his shirt further away from his neck before he attaches his lips to the soft skin of his shoulder.

 

Sapnap tried not to let the action sting. He likes watching the two of them, he does, and even if he couldn’t identify the heat pooling in his stomach as arousal, he could go off the hardening bulge in his pants.

 

But it doesn’t change the fact that Dream went to George first. They had slept together first and they have kissed first and Sapnap had been an afterthought his entire life.

 

He’s dragged away from his thoughts when George lets out a loan moan that he clearly tried to stifle behind his teeth. Dream’s hands are now down George’s shirt, and although they have their backs turned to Sapnap, he can tell Dream is twisting his fingers right where George’s nipple is because of the way George skips over a breath.

 

They’ve only been sleeping together for a little while, but Sapnap could write a book about the way George gasps and moans during sex.

 

Dream’s figure envelops George, mouthing at his ear now, his hand has now slipped further to cover his crotch.

 

Sapnap should feel left out, but this is also insanely fucking hot and he can’t help but squeeze at his own dick just as Dream pulls George’s hair to expose his neck further. “You were saying?” Dream rasps in George’s ear and George licks his lip that same way he did earlier to Sapnap.

 

The You’re pathetic is expected, because that’s what George had said to him earlier when they were pressed close. Sapnap can almost see the way Dream’s face will fall, disappointment and sadness leeching off his body and he wants to cry because he would rather slice his heart in two than see his friend upset.

But the insult never comes, instead George darts out of the seat and spins around, both hands pushing at Dream’s body, hard, toppling him over and onto the bed.

 

Dream lands on the soft sheets with a squeal, a satisfied grin on his face as George climbs on top of him and seals his mouth in a kiss. Dream yelps but George doesn’t let up, his hands making their way under Dream’s shirt and exposing his toned chest to the cold air of the room. His nipples stand erect, either from the cold or from the way George’s hands run over them a couple of times.

 

The truth is that Sapnap still doesn’t know how he’s meant to fit into their dynamic, sexually or otherwise. Dream had approached him a while ago and explained that him and George had hooked up a couple of times but they’d love for him to join in too, and Sapnap is a weak man and Dream’s body and George’s face had been on his mind for weeks now. He’s a weak weak man and he said yes instantly.

 

Dream and George just fit. The way that George easily presses his leg between Dream’s and ruts up, eliciting a delicious moan out of Dream that is instantly muted by George’s lips, the way they are together and there’s nowhere for Sapnap to slip into.

 

He wants to, he wants much more than just to watch, but he’s frozen by the bed, embarrassingly hard in his underwear and unable to tear his eyes away from the image of his best friends in front of him.

 

How did they get there? Two months ago Sapnap wouldn’t have even thought he could be here in a million years, maybe in his fantasies only, but here he is privy to watching something amazing. He should be grateful and yet it’s still not enough.

 

After what feels like years during which his eyes are glued to where the curve of George’s waist slips into the curve of his thigh and not daring to touch himself in case he comes too quickly, Dream finally breaks the kiss and his eyes find Sapnap’s.

 

“What are you doing all the way over there? Come here.” He pats the space next to his body with one hand, his other still against the back of George’s neck, keeping him close.

 

Sapnap doesn’t waste a second before stepping closer, but George clicks his tongue in disapproval. He glances at George, confused, because he hasn’t even done anything this time.

 

“How do you want to have sex with all your clothes on?” Dream says with a smile in his voice, eyes gentle but clearly aroused.

 

Neither of them are undressed, so with both hands on the band of his sweatpants, he hesitates.

 

“Well? Good boys should listen and I don’t have all night. Either strip, or leave.” George says, almost monotone, as if he’s bored of Sapnap already.

 

It makes something ugly stir in Sapnap’s chest. He doesn’t want to leave, why does George have to be so mean all the time?

 

Shame burns his face as he pulls his underwear and pants down at the same time, exposing his hard dick to his best friends. It’s a concept he can’t quite wrap his head around, still.

 

“So fucking desperate to be fucked already, huh?” Dream says with a smile, licking his lips and pressing a kiss to George’s chest, his eyes never once leaving Sapnap’s. It makes him feel scrutinized, like he’s under a microscope, observed and completely exposed.

 

“Like a dog in heat.” George agrees, bending down to kiss Dream again, hard and bruising and Sapnap wishes George would kiss him like that too. Instead all he can do is stand there, pants pulled down, dick bright and shiny with precum and twitching every now and again when Dream whines particularly loud.

 

He’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch so he just stands there and waits to be acknowledged again. It makes him feel as pathetic as George called him earlier. There may be some truth to his hurtful words after all.

 

“Are you just going to stand there?” George startles him out of his thoughts. He looks… bored. There’s a part of him that wants to leave, because feeling good is not worth how crap George makes him feel all the time, but at the same time he can’t bring himself to disappoint either of them.

 

“I mean, you could stand there if you want, having someone watch us would be hot, don’t you think, Georgie?” Dream says sweetly, looking up at George through his eyelashes.

 

George contemplates. “Maybe we should leave him there, after all we told him to come here and he still hasn’t. Do you want to be punished, dog?”

 

Sapnap flinches at that. He’s not a fucking dog, why does George insist on calling him that? It makes him feel even worse than he already does.

 

He shakes his head vigorously and clambers onto the bed, on Dream’s other side. Despite his inner turmoil he’s still hard, trembling with anticipation.

 

Dream looks at him, but it’s kind this time. “Georgie’s just kidding, he won’t be able to help himself when he hears how pretty you sound. Right, Georgie?”

 

“I like how you sound, Dreamie.”

 

How come Dream gets to be Dreamie and he’s dog? How is that meant to be fair?

 

Dream laughs easily, and without warning smashes his lips against Sapnap’s. He would have fallen back if not for Dream’s hand winding around his waist to keep him in place.

 

Dream kisses like he means it, tongue darting out into Sapnap’s and licking at his teeth, gentle at first, but turning feverish by the second.

 

Sapnap’s brain turns to mush when Dream’s other hand closes around his throbbing dick and he can’t help the low groan that slips past his lips.

 

Dream smiles against his lips. “There we go.” His words are muffled by Sapnap’s mouth but it doesn’t matter because he kisses Sapnap again, desperately, like he wants it.

 

Sapnap can’t wrap his head around that either.

 

Dream moans into his mouth then, teeth clashing against teeth, and Sapnap musters enough brain power to hesitantly open one eye and he’s rewarded with a bird’s eye view of George’s mouth around Dream’s dick.

 

George had never sucked him off before. He tries not to think about how pleased he looks to have Dream’s dick in his mouth, especially when George sneaks a hand closer and closer until he slips a single finger inside him.

 

Dream groans into Sapnap’s mouth, his hand pausing on Sapnap’s dick, attention clearly elsewhere.

 

“George, you heathen.” He hisses under his breath when George starts pumping the one finger in and out of him slowly, all the while bobbing his head on Dream like he’s built for it.

 

Sapnap’s already neglected dick twitches pathetically as he thinks about how George’s mouth would feel around him.

 

He’d only been blown twice in his life before – both times by Dream. Once for a couple of seconds before George pulled Dream away onto his own dick, leaving Sapnap to palm at himself pathetically, and the second initiated by himself. He remembers asking Dream for a blowjob after a particularly horrible day, and Dream agreed easily before he was pulled away but a phone call from his mother. He had never returned to finish the job so Sapnap was left spilling his load into a tissue that night, forcing silent tears away from his eyes because he’s not pathetic enough to cry over a ruined blowjob.

 

He doesn’t even know if he can count either of those instances if they lasted less than ten seconds. He wonders if George is good at giving head, but the noises that escape Dream’s mouth leave no room for guesswork.

 

“W-wait. You should fuck Sap.” Dream pants, a faint line of sweat on his forehead now.

 

George pauses his ministrations, Dream’s dick slipping out of his mouth and slapping against Dream’s stomach. His lips are red and shiny, a line of precum connecting Dream and him.

 

He looks gorgeous and Sapnap can’t help but close his own hand around his dick because he needs some kind of pressure on him, now.

 

George looks at Dream, head quirked to the side, looking like he’s considering it. “Why?” He asks eventually.

 

“To properly kiss and make up.” Dream says, voice less fucked out and breaths coming in more easily. “Come on, you know you both want to. Nothing like angry foreplay gets you both going, I know it.”

 

He’s not wrong, but he’s not right either. Sapnap isn’t sure if they made up, and George hadn’t touched him yet so he’s not sure if George will even agree, but with one last look at Dream he climbs over him and hovers over Sapnap. His dark hair obscures his face from Sapnap, like he doesn’t want the other to see him.

 

“G-George?” Sapnap says unsurely. He’s not scared of George, but sometimes George can be scary. It feels like there’s a power imbalance, especially in the bedroom, because no matter how many times Sapnap tells himself that next time he’ll fight back, somehow George always gets his way.

 

“Shut up.” He spits, eyes dark where they meet from behind his fringe. “You speak when spoken to, dog.”

 

And Sapnap does bite his lip. And he hates it.

 

It doesn’t feel quite right, the way George still isn’t touching him, and now Dream isn’t either, and despite his two best friends inches away he feels alone.

 

George is still fully dressed as he observes Sapnap. “Dreamie baby? Stretch Sapnap out for me.”

 

Sapnap swallows thickly, eyes locked on George even as Dream manoeuvres himself around the bed and lies down between Sapnap’s spread bare legs. They all still have their shirts on, but George is the only one with his pants still so Sapnap can’t really tell how turned on he is.

 

He’s lost in his own thoughts, the hair on his legs rising with goosebumps in the chilly air, eyes unfocused on George and his dick softening by the second.

 

It’s not like he wants to stop if the alternative is going back to his room alone, and he has to admit, it’s nice that the attention is on him for once. Most times he has to stretch himself open because Dream and George are too preoccupied with each other.

 

He’s losing it, he knows. He’s overthinking like always and Dream and George will be disappointed because he’s meant to be good.

 

With no warning a slick finger pushes itself into his rim, all the way to the knuckle and he gasps in surprise. He hadn’t even heard the pop of the lube lid. Dream doesn’t let him adjust, instead pumping the finger in and out and quickly finds a rhythm that’s just a little too fast too soon.

 

Sapnap can’t keep the ah ah ahs inside and every time Dream buries his hand in him he gasps, eyes staring at George.

 

George isn’t even looking at him anymore, eyes focuses on Dream instead. Of course George looks at Dream, he’s gorgeous. But surely he should be looking at Sapnap, right? They’re about to have sex after all.

 

“Look at you, so pretty.” Dream says as he adds another finger, the burn of the stretch making Sapnap groan. His fingers are long, at least, reaching far inside him and just narrowly missing his prostate. Either Dream is avoiding it on purpose or he’s bad at this.

 

He tries to squirm a little to better Dream’s aim but Dream pins his leg down. “Patience, only good boys get rewarded.”

 

He can be a good boy, he knows he can, so he still his movements and reaches for his dick instead but Dream slaps his hand away with an evil smile. With no warning, all the while making eye contact with Sapnap, he adds a third finger at a brutal pace, fucking in and out of him and making Sapnap whine.

 

He was a virgin a couple of weeks ago. He likes to think he’s learned and adapted at least a little, but he doubts he’ll ever get used to the initial burn of his asshole being stretched out like this.

 

Eventually Dream stops, and Sapnap tries to lift his head to see what’s going on, eyes peeling open despite the gathering tears, but before he can figure out which way is up and which is down he feels something much larger prod at his entrance.

 

His head snaps up to find George who’s looking down at where he slaps his dick at Sapnap’s rim a few times, spreading the lube before he pushes in with force, his balls slapping against Sapnap.

 

The moan that escapes Sapnap is more animal than human.

 

George sets a brutal pace, and Sapnap wants to tell him to slow down but he can’t form coherent words, pain mixing with pleasure and sending his head spinning.

 

“Is Georgie making you feel good?” Dream whispers in his ear, how did he get here all of a sudden?, and licks up Sapnap’s sweaty neck.

 

Sapnap wants to nod but he moans instead.

 

George bites his lip above him, hips snapping forward mercilessly.

 

“Such a good boy, being used so well.” Dream strokes his hair and it would be almost tender if the word used wasn’t currently swimming in Sapnap’s mind and snatching his entire focus to the pain in his heart once again.

 

But then George nails his prostate and Sapnap sees stars. George doesn’t let up from that position, hammering into him and hitting that spot over and over and over again until Sapnap’s drooling.

 

Suddenly something prods at his lips and when George snaps his hips particularly loud he opens his mouth in a gasp, that something slipping between his mouth and makes him gag.

 

His eyes snap open, now wet with tears, and sees only the curtain of Dream’s darkish blond pubic hair and with a start he realizes it’s Dream’s dick he has in his mouth.

 

Not that he minds. He’s had their dicks in his mouth more often than not.

 

But it’s hard to concentrate on anything with George still honing down on his prostate, his dick abandoned on his stomach but he can’t feel his arms despite the need to be touched, and now he can’t breathe with the way Dream fills his mouth.

 

It’s kind of hot.

 

He moans and Dream above him follows suit. “That’s right baby, suck it, just like that.”

 

Dream feels good, he must be enjoying this, with the way he’s groaning above him so Sapnap obeys and does his best to suck while pulling his teeth back.

 

He doesn’t have to be bothered with sucking for long because Dream starts shoving himself down his throat, setting a pace that’s similar to the way George rams into him, and Sapnap can’t think.

 

He can’t breathe.

 

He tries to find the strength in his arm to pat Dream’s leg to let him know this is too much, even as his dick twitches, desperate for release when George adjusts his angle and it feels even better.

 

He’s going to come if George keeps this up. Or he’s going to faint, whichever comes first.

 

Without warning he comes, untouched, the orgasm hitting him like a freight train, vision going white and saliva dripping down his chin as Dream still fucks his throat ruthlessly, making him gag with every other thrust. He hasn’t eaten dinner, thank god, because if he had he would have thrown it up by now with the way his stomach clenches.

 

He can’t form a coherent thought, even as the pleasure of the orgasm quickly turns to pain as George does not let up.

 

Even when he squirms uncomfortably, trying to get away from them both they keep going, chasing their own pleasure, Sapnap can only wait and hope they’ll finish soon.

 

Dream finishes first, spilling down Sapnap’s throat with a groan, still not letting up even when Sapnap gags on the musky taste, his nose struggling to bring enough air down to his lungs. He’s going to faint, he’s sure of it. He can’t find his own limbs, and his mind isn’t forming thoughts and he feels like he’s dying. He can’t fucking breathe.

 

Dream peers down at him and only slips out when he’s sure Sapnap swallowed. It wasn’t easy to, but his gag reflex kicked in and he swallows instinctively. When Dream’s dick slips out of his mouth it still hits his chin, smearing cum over Sapnap’s face but he doesn’t care, gulping air down greedily, chest rising rapidly and heart racing a mile a minute.

 

George follows shortly after, burying himself deep in Sapnap and nailing his prostate one last time, making Sapnap whine, before he pulls out too. Dream collapses next to Sapnap first, George following shortly after and laying down on Dream’s other side.

 

Sapnap still can’t catch his breath, stray droplets of cum leaking out of his mouth and his asshole, his own drying on his t-shirt.

 

He must be a sight to behold.

 

Dream lets out a long sigh. “Doesn’t everyone feel better?” He says cheerfully.

 

No. Yes. Sapnap’s not sure. If Dream had asked a minute ago he would have said yes, thank you, that felt amazing, but they had never fucked him so raw before.

 

He’s not sure he’ll be able to walk for a week.

 

His brain is still swimming pleasantly, that airy feeling you get when you’re high coating his tongue in molasses.

 

Beside him Dream turns on his side to face George. “Don’t you feel better, George? Less pissy?”

 

“M’not pissy.” George says with a yawn. “But I do feel better, thank you, Dream.”

 

Sapnap can’t see Dream’s face, but he relaxes into the covers at those words.

 

George doesn’t acknowledge Sapnap, even when Dream announces he’s going to shower and gives them both a peck on the lips.

 

The remains of the orgasm still make it difficult for Sapnap to think, the pain in his backside and throat nearly enough to drown the hurt in his heart from earlier.

 

“You should go too.” George says casually from beside him.

 

They’re less than a foot apart, but George could as well be miles away. He’s looking down at his phone, eyes darting from side to side as if reading something.

 

“W-what?” Sapnap stutters because his brain still isn’t thinking straight.

 

George, at last, looks up briefly. “You should leave.”

 

It’s not said unkindly, but Sapnap still feels it shatter his heart in two. But he knows the drill by now.

 

Sometimes Dream stays with him, pulls him close and pecks him on the cheek, but most times he either leaves to shower or goes to sleep. It leaves Sapnap cold without a body to hold. George, however, never extends the same courtesy, and when it’s just them like this, he always leaves.

 

Why does George always leave?

 

Sapnap doesn’t want to leave. He feels the pit in his stomach widen, devouring the high he felt earlier and leaving behind only hurt.

 

“B-but-“

 

“Come on, don’t make me actually kick you out. Just go.” George jerks his head in the direction of the door and Sapnap has no choice. He knows when he’s not wanted, even if he hesitates sometimes in hopes that George will change his mind.

 

Painfully slowly he sits up, trying not to cringe at the wet cum leaking out of him as he stands on shaky legs. George is not watching him but he still feels exposed, still feels judged and he just want to get out of here. He makes for the door, head down and doing his best to keep the tears at bay.

 

“You forgot your pants.” George says, his tone so frustratingly even it makes Sapnap want to punch him. Shame burns bright on his cheeks as he bends to pick them up, nearly sobbing when he feels the cum leak down his thigh.

 

But even after all of this, even after he feels his heart in shatters in his chest, he still hesitates when he reaches the door. “Goodnight.” He says quietly. He doesn’t even know what he wants from George anymore. Just one glance would be enough, anything to make him feel like he’s still here, like he’s still alive.

 

“Sap?” George speaks up. Sapnap has never turned around so fast in his life. “Don’t forget to take the bins out.”

 

Sapnap needs to get out of here because there’s nothing he can do to stop the tears slipping past his eyes. “Okay.” He whispers more to himself than George before he darts out of the room, clutching his pants to his chest in an attempt to warm up.

 

He doesn’t bother locking his bedroom door, he knows neither of them will try to bother him, so he just collapses on the bed uncaring that he’s smearing their cum on his freshly washed sheets.

 

When this whole ordeal started it felt like a dream. Overwhelming, surreal, everything he could have hoped for and nothing like he hoped for at the same time.

 

He’s had a crush on George since they became friends back in COVID times. George had been easy to talk to, so easy to get along with and beautiful. For the past couple of years he had been a constant, making Sapnap feel seen and important. Loving George had been instantaneous, like when you meet someone and you just know they’re for you because of the fire they start in your heart.

 

He’d fallen for Dream gradually, both eyes wide open and prepared to lay his life down if it meant Dream was happy. They’ve been friends for over a decade, since Sapnap was twelve, there for each other when no one else was. Dream is his everything, his best friend and his lover.

 

When Dream approached him asking if he wanted to have sex he had been happy. He had never expected either of them to reciprocate his feelings, he didn’t even know they were gay.

 

It quickly came to light what exactly they wanted from him – just sex. He was a random, a second thought addition to the group, there to be fucked then kicked to the curb. He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much. He should just be happy they want him at all, even if just sexually. Still better than nothing.

 

And yet when he lies in his dark room, naked from the waist down, with cum drying on his skin and tears silently spilling from his eyes he feels empty. He wishes Dream had never suggested this in the first place, because then he wouldn’t feel so guilty every time he thinks about breaking this off.

 

If they didn’t want him they’d tell him, right?

 

You should leave.

 

Just go.

 

Would they still want him there if they knew how in love he is with both of them? That despite everything he will still be back in their rooms, on his knees and ready for whatever sliver of closeness they’re prepared to give him.

 

He’s not salty, he’s not. He just knows his place. He knows that sometimes Dream and George cuddle after they have sex, sleeping in the same bed together. Will Dream sleep in George’s room tonight? Would they say anything if he joined them?

 

Would George look at him the same way he did earlier, face blank and so different to the way he looks at Dream? What had Sapnap done that makes George despise him so badly? When did late night sleep calls turn into raised voices and shoves as they pass each other in the halls? When did it turn to angry sex, Sapnap unable to tell George to stop because Dream’s dick is in his mouth and he can barely stay conscious?

 

When did it all go so wrong?

 

Sapnap buries his head in his pillows and tries to remember how to breathe.

Chapter 2: When You Wallk Out That Door

Notes:

Just three guys being dudes, dudes being guys. You know... hurting each other emotionally. As you were.

Sapnap wakes up cold, but he tends to do so a lot these days so he just wraps the covers around his body tighter in a poor attempt to warm himself up. Behind his black-out curtains straight rays of sunshine make their way through, indicating it must be sometime before early afternoon, because the sun passes over his room later in the day and drenches it in darkness.

 

The room is mostly dark anyway, but the sunshine that he now knows is outside is making him uneasy, like he should be up already.

 

He feels like a million rocks are weighing his body down, like you feel after a particularly long workout when your muscles give out and you’re left trembling.

 

A shooting pain makes its way into his brain and he cringes, pulling the covers of his head so he doesn’t have to think about the outside anymore. Going by logic, he knows he should probably drink some water, because the last time he drank water was before his argument with George yesterday, but if he drinks water now, he’ll end up needing to pee and then he’ll be forced to get out of bed.

 

So instead he lies there, a chill running through him straight down to his bones. He wonders if Dream and George are up yet, and if they are would they care enough to check up on him. He doubts it, because they tend to eat breakfast without him these days, blaming it on their own fucked up sleep schedules. That’s fine, Sapnap can eat breakfast by himself. Most days.

 

Back in the day he had a lot of self-image issues, because he was heavier then. He’s always been a chubby child, but it hadn’t affected him until fans online started calling him out on it. It’s not that he starved himself, he had just been conscious of what he ate and how much, and on top tried to stick to a vigorous workout routine he has forgone these past few weeks because he’s just constantly tired. If he thinks about going to the gym right now, even if it’s the one in their basement, he wants to bury himself six feet under.

 

He hasn’t worked out in weeks, unless you consider sex a physical activity. Does it burn calories when he’s always the one getting railed? Would Dream let him top sometime? Would George? Does Dream top George when he’s not around?

 

Okay, whoa. He just woke up and he’s thinking about his friends, naked.

 

Sapnap groans and turns to lie on his other side, brining the covers even tighter around his body. If he pretends hard enough, maybe it will feel like a hug.

 

Logically, he knows that if he went to find Dream he’d probably get a hug, but he doesn’t want to have to beg for the most basic show of affection every time. Dream gives good hugs, but they’re too brief, and ultimately leave him colder and emptier every time.

 

Before, he had never felt like he needed to be smothered like he craves to be right now. He finds himself daydreaming about sleeping in George’s bed, both him and Dream curling themselves around Sapnap and muttering quiet words of assurance as they all drift off to sleep, content, safe, happy.

 

Just go.

 

Sapnap throws the covers off his head when he feels like he can no longer breathe and tries not to think about Dream’s dick down his throat. It’s not the first time they pushed him like this, but he likes it, surely he does, he gets off on it, doesn’t he?

 

Eventually the need to pee gets stronger than him, despite the dehydration, so he stumbles into the corridor and tries not to let the lightness in his head stop him from reaching his destination. He has to pee sitting down because his vision goes black for a second.

 

When he’s done, he shoves his head under the sink and gulps mouthfuls of water down greedily.

 

He feels a little more human.

 

He avoids looking in the mirror and instead glances down at himself – he’s still wearing the same black t-shirt from last night, the dried cum evident on the entire front, and when he runs his fingers down his thigh he can feel the dried liquid there too. George’s.

 

A shower would probably be a good idea. The contraption taunts him as he stares it down, trying to see which will cave first – the shower or Sapnap? He doesn’t want to shower.

 

He leaves the bathroom before the shower can win.

 

He pulls on some shorts and throws a hoodie over himself, still freezing, and hunts for his phone. As he tips all his blankets on the floor and ruffles through the assortment of empty energy drink cans by his desk, he comes to the startling realization that it must be downstairs.

 

That means there’s a chance he’ll run into either of them. Or both, which is the absolute worst case scenario.

 

George never wants to talk the day after much, to either of them, but Dream is good at getting them all together whether that be to hang out or just sit together in silence. He says it’s constructive, but it feels more destructive than anything as Sapnap’s forced to sit there, so far away from them both and unable to touch, feeling lonelier than he does in the solace of his bedroom.

 

Facing them will be difficult because he still feels like shit and the argument between him and George hasn’t quite eased from his mind yet. And it’s not like he can stop thinking about how scared he was when they were having sex last night for a second there, because his ass and lower back hurt with every step.

 

He doesn’t really need his phone. Besides, doesn’t everyone always complain how addicted his generation is to phones? He’ll prove them wrong.

 

He sinks into his gaming chair instead, powering up the PC. It’s as good a way to pass time as any. He doesn’t want to think about the mounds of footage that have accumulated on his drive, or the Banter episode they are meant to record, or literally anything productive. His throat is still raw, completely messed up, so it’s not like he can record anyway.

 

The first thing he sees when his computer finally switches on is a blinking Discord notification. It’s Karl, it’s almost always Karl, asking if he wants to chat for a bit.

 

Sapnap sighs. He hasn’t spoken to his friend in a week, and it’s his fault, he knows. Karl is being nice reaching out like this despite how shit of a friend Sapnap has been lately, but if Sapnap thinks about speaking to another human being right now his blood runs colder than it already is, sharp ice in his veins.

 

Karl (3:07): Yo

 

Sapnap stares at the message, worrying his lip between his teeth. Karl doesn’t know about his relationship with Dream and George and Sapnap is not planning on including him in this mess. He’s not sure he himself knows what’s going on entirely and he’d honestly rather shoot his right foot than admit how much he wants to bury himself in George to Karl, of all people. Karl probably wouldn’t judge him, he knows, but Sapnap has also never spoken about this and today doesn’t feel like the day he wants to talk about his emotions.

 

Karl (3:09): I can see you’re online dipshit

 

Shit. So much for being incognito.

 

Sapnap (3:09): Sorry let me just get a glass of water I think I’m getting sick or smthg

 

Karl (3:10): Oh shit sorry dude yeah take all the time you need

 

There’s no escape. He doesn’t have the heart to tell Karl he doesn’t really want to talk to anyone so, dejectedly, he gets up, cringes at the pain in his ass, and peeks his head through the door. It seems silent, but it’s three in the afternoon, there’s no chance they’re still asleep. Hopefully they’re both holed up in their rooms like Sapnap was planning on being.

 

Slowly, on his tippy toes, he creeps down the hallway and down the stair, ears strained to listen to any movement around the house. So far so good.

 

He passes by the living room without bothering to go inside in case either of them happen to be there. He just needs to get a glass of water, find his phone and run back upstairs. In and out. Easy.

 

The house feels almost eerie, the only sound being the A/C running on full blast because Dream prefers it cold. It sends a chill through Sapnap, and he hops from foot to foot trying to chase away the cold from his bare feet.

 

He makes it to the kitchen no problem, hand reaching up to grasp a glass.

 

“Morning.”

 

Sapnap jumps, hand retracting too fast, sending a mug flying to the floor, where Sapnap watches it shatter into pieces just inches from his feet. It’s blue. It’s that silly Cookie Monster mug George always uses. Fuck.

 

“What the fuck?”

 

Sapnap, slowly, as if sealing his fate, dares to look up and meets George’s enraged eyes. He’s dressed in sweats, a hood pulled over his hair but definitely not obscuring the way his face goes red.

 

“George-“

 

“Are a fucking retard? What the fuck is wrong with you?” George yells, and makes to take a step forward but thinks better of it when his eyes drift down to the mess of ceramic on the floor.

 

You scared me is what Sapnap wants to say but George is yelling again before he can even try to push words out of his ruined throat.

 

“That was my favourite mug you dumbnut! Do you even fucking think before you act? You’re so fucking annoying and you constantly keep breaking my shit!”

 

Sapnap wants to say sorry. “What else did I fucking break?” He yells instead, voice scratchy.

 

George always antagonizes him and Sapnap is not known for having the patience and virtue of an angel. George fucking knows this and uses it to his advantage, riling Sapnap up beyond the tipping point and laughing when he lashes out.

 

“My suitcase handle, my sunglasses, my fucking charger!”

 

“Just get a new charger! They’re like thirty bucks!”

 

“It’s not about the price, it’s about the fact that you’re so fucking stupid that I lose braincells just by looking at you!”

 

Sapnap flinches at that. Dream and George are both coders, brains working mathematically and critically twenty four seven. They’re always the first to comment on something, both sharp as whip and just as passionate. Sapnap has no such strengths, not even an equivalent. He’s always been just… Sapnap. And the way George is staring him down, watching with malicious content as Sapnap’s shoulders sag and he’s almost crying, makes him hate George a little more.

 

“Well you’re a dick, you know that? It’s just a mug, I’ll get you another one.” Sapnap tries because at the end of the day it is his fault and as annoying and sadistic as George is, Sapnap’s still trying.

 

“It’s from the fucking UK, you piece of shit, if you had two braincells and any graceful bone in your body you would know that. Just fuck off, you always fucking ruin everything.” George isn’t even yelling, but his words hurt all the more. It’s the way he sneers at Sapnap, looking him up and down as if he’s some roadkill on the side of the highway, with a little bit of disgust and contempt.

 

It makes Sapnap want to scream just as much as it makes him want to sob. He hasn’t cried himself out last night and the pent up tears in his chest are trying to break free.

 

“What, no comeback?” George spits, venom on his tongue and eyes narrow and zeroed in on Sapnap. There’s no escape, nowhere to run.

 

“Shut the fuck up, George.” He mumbles, but it lacks heat.

 

George chuckles, but there’s no humour, no warmth in his words. “You’re fucking pathetic, Sapnap. And you didn’t even take the trash out like you were meant to.”

 

That is it. “Because it was your turn to do it!”

 

“What the fuck is going on here?” Dream yells over whatever George is saying, sharp eyes darting between the two of them.

 

“Sapnap broke my mug and he’s not even apologizing.” George huffs, not looking at either of them.

 

It’s like he’s back in middle school again, getting thrown under the bus for something that’s only kind of his fault. It’s like when kids would take his things and trash them or throw them away and he’d come home and tell his parents, only for them to yell at him for lying and losing his things. They had always been poor, he knew, but he couldn’t afford to not bring a notebook to school, you know?

 

“You’re both pissing me off! I’m fucking done with the both of you. Sapnap, apologize.” Dream’s voice is hard as stone, jaw squared and shoulders pushed back.

 

George scared him earlier, it’s not even his fault the mug broke. And George was meant to throw away the trash and they both fucking left him last night and they do that to him all the time and he’s not even fucking worth it. Nothing feels like it’s worth it anymore. “Whatever,” he replies. Apparently it is not the best thing to say.

 

“Do you fucking see what I mean? He does this shit all the time, I’m fucking done.” George makes to leave, but Dream grabs his arm to stop him.

 

“You’ll get shit in your foot, just chill. You’re both fucking idiots and if one of you doesn’t apologize right fucking now, I’m throwing you both out to a hotel for the night.”

 

Every time a man yells, Sapnap is seven years old again and he is watching him pack that suitcase once more. Picking him up by the neck, slamming against the wall as whiskey breath ghosts his face, tears in his eyes, and he yells that he’s pathetic, that he’s weak, teaching him obedience. To be soft, to listen. Like the belly of a fish exposed to a knife.

 

“I’m sorry.” He says, voice wrecked and scratchy as he forces the words through his mouth, lips trembling with unshed tears as Dream helps George out of the broken ceramic radius.

 

“Was that so hard?” George says, voice candied like a sugar coated onion, eyes twinkling with that evil spark that shines every time Sapnap’s eyes wet with tears.

 

“Don’t start again.” Dream scolds. “I’m gonna get you some shoes, Sap, and then you’re going to clean this up.” And without another word Dream disappears.

 

George is leaning against the wall, too casually for the predicament they are in.

 

“What?” Sapnap rasps, voice struggling to project the volume he intended.

 

“Nothing.” He muses, an easy smile on his lips that might have been mistaken for nice if Sapnap didn’t know him so well.

 

Before Sapnap can poke the tiger again, Dream is back and throwing his own sliders at Sapnap’s head. “Here.”

 

“Thanks.” Sapnap mumbles.

 

Dream and George don’t stay to watch him clean, their voices barely audible in the living room as Sapnap diligently picks up every last bit of the broken mug and gets to sweeping. It’s therapeutic, almost, and it gives him something else to focus on besides the hole in his heart. He doesn’t bother joining them when he’s done, and the glass of water he was meant to pour is forgotten too, as he sulks back to his room, closing the door so as to shut their voices out, out of his room, his head, his heart.

 

It only kind of works.

 

He and Dream have been friends for far longer than they have been friends with George, and yet, somehow, George had wormed his way into Dream’s heart and is now actually cutting Sapnap out. Whether it’s conscious or not, Sapnap feels caged in his room, as if he’s not here by choice. If he could choose, he’d be downstairs with them both, playing a stupid game and wondering what food they should order.

 

George wouldn’t be as bold as to tell him to leave, right?

 

Just go.

 

He’s not so sure now.

 

What he hates more than George’s stupid face is the way he still makes his heart beat faster, even when they’re yelling at each other. George still lives in his mind and makes Sapnap want to rip his heart out just to hand it to George and say take it, take everything I am for it is yours.

 

He feels like an idiot.

 

He’s literally only been awake for a few hours, but when he collapses back in bed he drifts on the verge of consciousness, uneasy and restless. He feels too small for his body, as if his soul is small and his limbs are too long, so he wraps the covers around himself tightly like he had earlier, to try and chase away the creeping chill.

 

He drifts off to sleep like this, still covered in cum and lube, sweaty, but cold. He hasn’t showered in two days, he hasn’t brushed his teeth or his hair but he finds that he doesn’t care. If anything, maybe Dream and George will finally realize he’s a piece of shit and kick him to the curb like they want to. And they want to, he knows, he’s just waiting for the ball to drop.

 

Any day now.

 

He’s hoping he gets to be around them for a while longer at least, because if he had known that that was the last time he would kiss Dream, he would have imprinted it on his lips and his mind, a snapshot in his heart forever, for him only, so he could think back to when, for a second, for one measly second in his entire life, someone had wanted him.

 

Maybe he’ll get to have sex with them one more time, one more night of bliss and pain, pleasure and sorrow, coming together to break him down to his very bones.

 

One more time.

 

Please.

 

He can’t keep on living without them.

Chapter 3: Walk Out of My Life

The room is drenched in darkness, only slightly illuminated by the brightness of his computer screen, as Sapnap hits ready in Valorant. He needs a good run to cleanse his mind and restart his body.

 

He feels better already when he blows the head off of someone on the other team. Some good old blood on his hands and he’ll be good as new.

 

It’s always the worst just after they have sex. The days that come by after always make it a little bit easier to take deep breaths.

 

He kills someone else with one bullet. Headshot. He rounds the corner to secure the spike. Someone’s shooting at him. He turns around. A body topples to the ground. He reloads. Easy.

 

There’s a knock on his door, which he hears even despite the fire assaulting him through his headphones, so he yells a come in and focuses his attention back to the spike. Two more gunshots. He’s dead.

 

“Fuck’s sake.” He murmurs, even as the rest of his team carry and secure the needed fourth win to win the game. His rank goes down by two.

 

“You busy?” It’s Dream, so Sapnap pulls his headphones down to rest on his neck and turns around to face Dream. It’s so dark in the room he can’t see Dream’s face, not with the light streaming in from the corridor, illuminating him from behind. He hasn’t seen him or George since the mug incident yesterday.

 

“Kinda.” He lies. His business depends vastly on what Dream wants.

 

“George and I were going to get some food, you wanna come?” Dream, thank god, doesn’t switch the light on. The room is a mess, but Sapnap is even worse. He still hasn’t showered, there’s still cum on his ass and he really really needs to shower.

 

But he also knows he needs food. He didn’t eat anything yesterday and the few crackers he found under his bed this morning don’t count as breakfast.

 

Sapnap fights with himself, but eventually shoots his shot. “Can you give me fifteen minutes to shower?”

 

“Okay.” Dream shrugs. “But fifteen and counting, George is about to chew my head off downstairs.”

 

“I’ll be quick.” Sapnap promises and hops in the shower seconds later.

 

He does have to admit, once he’s in the shower it actually feels kind of nice, and it’s definitely good he’s finally parting with the cum in his ass.

 

It’s just over fifteen minutes, he got lost under the water stream for a second too long, when he’s bounding down the stairs, trying to slip on his sneakers as he runs, hopping from one foot to the other as he finally managed to get his other shoe on. George looks at him blankly from the front door.

 

“Finally. We were about to leave without you.” He says, not coldly but not warmly either, so he follows just after George, out the front door and into Dream’s car. George takes the passenger seat with no questions asked and not even a glance at Sapnap so he just gets in the back seat. He can’t be asked to ruin a good thing, because for once their interaction hasn’t started by yelling.

 

“Where to?” Dream asks as he pulls out of their driveway, one hand behind George’s headrest as he looks through the back windshield, and Sapnap should not find it as hot as he does.

 

“Burgers?” George suggests, already scrolling through his phone to find a nearby burger.

 

“No, we always get burgers.” Sapnap whines. “How about Chinese.”

 

“Ew.” George comments half-heartedly, but even that one syllable digs into his skin.

 

Sapnap grits his teeth.

 

“I could go for a burger.” Dream pipes up, and without further question George places his phone into the holder already displaying the navigation map.

 

So it’s not up for discussion then. He tries not to sulk too hard at how easily he was brushed off. Maybe they’re both craving burgers real bad tonight, you never know.

 

They drive in silence, mostly, even when George connects his phone to Bluetooth and blasts Stormzy. He makes a comment that Sapnap can’t quite catch from the back and Dream throws his head back, laughing.

 

It’s always so easy between them.

 

Sapnap feels like he has to analyse every word, every tilt of their heads, every slight eyebrow raise, in case he pisses one of them off. He’s misread George more times than he can count these past few weeks, and Dream sometimes looks at him weird when he says something out of pocket.

 

It’s like they’re on first name basis and Sapnap is an acquaintance, practically a stranger passing by, looking through a window as the two in front of him get along just fine by themselves.

 

Why did Dream even invite him out here in the first place, if they’re going to ignore him all night? If this is an attempt to make him feel included somehow then it’s piss poor and he wants to go home and crawl back to Valorant. He was on a fairly good run, too.

 

“Yo, earth to Sapnap.”

 

Sapnap’s head jerks up and he comes face to face with Dream’s green eyes, looking at him with concern. Has he zoned out that bad? Dream is still sat in the driver’s seat, the car turned off, and George stands outside his door and taps his foot impatiently.

 

“We’re here.” Dream says softly.

 

“Hurry the fuck up, I’m hungry.” George gets closer to his window and glares at him through the glass.

 

“Then back up, Jesus, how am I meant to get out?” Sapnap snaps back and swings the door open, just narrowly missing George. It would have been great, seeing George on the floor, but Dream would have been pissed, so he lets his violence go. For now.

 

But if an opportunity presents itself to slam his fist into George’s face, he’s taking it.

 

He follows behind George as they go into the diner and sit down. It’s early evening, the sun just beginning to set and painting the sky orange. Springs in Florida hit different, but he misses Texas sometimes.

 

His two best friends are here, though, with Dream sitting next to him in the booth, close enough their knees brush past each other every time Dream bounces his leg up and down. He tends to do that a lot, but for once he doesn’t mind, thankful for the contact no matter how small it is.

 

“I’m feeling barbeque sauce tonight.” Dream breaks the silence that has settled over them.

 

Sapnap skims through the menu one more time. “Is that this one? The one we had last time?”

 

“No, idiot, that was this one.” Dream leans closer to point at his menu. He’s close enough for Sapnap to count his freckles.

 

Dream doesn’t call him idiot often, but when he does it’s said casually, light-hearted, a stark contrast to the way George spits the word out like he means it.

 

“You boys ready to order?” The elderly waitress stands in front of their table with an easy smile and jots down their order, leaving the three of them to sit in silence again.

 

It’s not particularly uncomfortable, but it’s not exactly peaceful either. Sapnap can’t help but feel like it’s him that’s making this awkward for everyone. George’s eyes are glued to the table and he refuses to look up, no matter how intensely Sapnap glares at him.

 

Their food arrives and they eat in silence, mouths full of burgers and fries. Sapnap isn’t even that hungry anymore.

 

“Okay.” Dream says eventually, placing his burger down with enough force to send the top half of the burger sliding off the rest. “What the hell is going on? Are you still angry at each other? Do we need to go home and have some sex therapy?”

 

Not everything can be solved with sex. Sapnap learned that first hand.

 

“We’re fine.” George forces a smile onto his face and aims it at Sapnap in a very poor attempt to placate Dream.

 

“Well that’s a load of bullcrap because we just spent the last fifteen minutes in complete silence. I’m sick and tired of being your mediator so both of you get over yourselves and just make up already. What is going on with you?” Dream looks between them, clearly disappointed.

 

For someone who hates getting involved, he sure involves himself a lot.

 

“We’re good.” Sapnap echoes George’s words and brings his attention back to his burger.

 

Because they are good, or as good as they can be. They have been good for weeks now, but Sapnap had already tried apologizing even before this whole thing blew out of proportion. He had tried spending quality time with him, he had tried sex and gifts and hugs and nothing seemed to work. George still acts cold around him and he won’t tell Sapnap why. There’s no point in even trying to make it better, because ultimately all he’ll be left with is bitter disappointment.

 

“Good.” Dream huffs and picks up his burger once more after arranging it back together. “Because we haven’t done this in a while, all three of us, and I miss us together.”

 

All three of them? Is Dream insinuating that he does this with George all the time?

 

And that’s fine too. They’re not dating, they’re not going out and they’re most certainly not a couple. Dream can go have burgers with whoever he wants.

 

It still stings.

 

He doesn’t let himself dwell on it.

 

He sips the last of his drink, ignoring most of the conversation starters Dream throws his way and opts to listen to Dream and George bicker about computers. He’s only half listening, more focused on sipping his drink and trying to keep his eyes open.

 

He’s been more tired than ever these past few days, practically sleeping every chance he could get.

 

“Hello?” Dream nudges his shoulder so hard Sapnap almost drops the cup he’s holding. He chokes on the Cola all the same. “What the hell is up with you lately, you’ve been zoning out a lot today.”

 

“I’m just tired.” He manages in between coughs.

 

“Well, go to sleep tonight instead of playing stupid Valorant for once.” Dream retorts matter-of-factly as the waitress takes their plates.

 

“Everything okay tonight?” She asks sweetly.

 

“Perfect, thank you.” George shoots her a smile and she walks away, happily, thankfully without a single comment at Sapnap’s half cleared plate.

 

“Should we get out of here?” Dream says after a second.

 

George clears his throat and stands up. “Yeah, it’s getting late and I promised Karl I’d stream with him.” He says as he throws a couple of bills on the table.

 

Karl.

 

Sapnap completely forgot to message him back yesterday. He bites his lip as they get back in the car and Dream starts the engine.

 

What if Karl’s mad? Is that why he’s asked George to stream with him and not Sapnap? No, that’s ridiculous, Karl would never try to replace him with George.

 

Surely.

 

He tries to reassure himself all the way back home. Dream and George exchange a few laughs but Sapnap doesn’t even care anymore that they’re not even trying to speak loud enough for him to hear.

 

As soon as the car goes into park, Sapnap is out and hurrying up the stairs back to his room, quickly wiggling his mouse to get the screen to light up. He forgot to switch it off earlier.

 

Discord is on his taskbar so he opens it, staring at the last messages Karl sent.

 

Karl (Yesterday): Bro if u don’t wanna play just tell me so I can get quackity on or smthg

Karl (Yesterday): You alive? You said you’re getting sick at least let me know you’re not hanging on a toilet rn

Karl (10:03): Fuck you Sap reply to me or I hate you forever

 

It’s a joke. Clearly. It sounds like what they say to each other on streams, but it’s hard to judge tone in writing. No, it’s a joke, it must be. Karl would never hate him, right? It’s a joke… most likely.

 

Sapnap (20:43): I’m so sorry dude it slipped my mind I had a thing with Dream and George

 

Their fight yesterday. He reads the text over after he sends it, and realizes too late that it sounds too much like he was hanging out with Dream and George because he prefers them over Karl.

 

Sapnap (20:43): I mean we had a little fight

 

Now that only provokes questions. He should really think more before he hits send.

 

Sapnap (20:43): Well more like a squabble

Sapnap (20:43): Nothing serious tho sorry I didn’t text you but I’m around now?

 

Just as he hits send, his Twitch light up with a notification.

 

Karl Jacobs is Live.

 

Of course he is, George said he’d be streaming. He could have tried to call Sapnap, at least. It’s not his fault he has Discord notifications on Do Not Disturb most times. Karl has his number, he could have called.

 

Unless he would rather spend his time with George, which is also a distinct possibility.

 

First Dream, now Karl? It’s like George is on a mission to take everything from him, to find exactly what Sapnap holds dear to his heart and claim it as his own.

 

Karl was his friend before he was George’s. Karl had been there for him when George wasn’t and he came so close to coming clean about the whole ordeal with Dream and George, but he was only stopped by the fact that involving Karl like this, making him choose between him and George, would be unfair.

 

Because Karl would choose George. Everyone always chooses George, over and over again until Sapnap isn’t even an option to choose from anymore. Karl would choose George in a heartbeat, because who wouldn’t?

 

And he doesn’t resent George, he doesn’t, because at the end of the day George is still George.

 

He’s still the man Sapnap fell in love with. Gentle when he wants to be, caring but shy about it, loving to everyone but him. And if Sapnap will only ever be just a bystander to George’s love, then he’ll take it because something is better than nothing.

 

So if Karl leaves for George, Sapnap will forgive him a million times over. He’ll carve little parts of himself as peace offerings until he’s just bones.

 

Sapnap just wishes that Karl, despite it all, would pick him anyway.

 

There’s no point in watching the stream anymore. There’s not much point to anything.

 

If he found Dream, he could probably curl up in his bed for a while. Though Dream could also say no and he can’t take that kind of heartbreak anymore.

 

He opts to curl up in his own bed instead, the silence deafening in the empty room.

 

 

 

 

Maybe Sapnap should start being concerned about how useless he feels. Not even in the literal sense – but more often than not he’s fucking tired. He hasn’t eaten much besides the leftover pancakes from when Dream made breakfast since the burger he had yesterday and he doesn’t even feel hungry. Nauseous would be more accurate.

 

He shuffles on the couch to make himself a little more comfortable and pulls the blanket up in an attempt to warm up, because Dream insists on that stupid A/C being on all the time.

 

“Can you not?” George shoots from beside him. They’re sat a foot apart, with George leaning on the other armrest, eyes glued to the TV screen. It’s playing some comedy movie that Sapnap has little interest in but Dream really wanted to watch.

 

“Can you not?” Sapnap rolls his eyes but stills anyway, his back now resting in a weird position against the cushions.

 

“Can you both not? I’m trying to watch the movie.” Dream pipes up from Sapnap’s other side, legs stretched out on the chaise in front of him. He’s sank so low into the back he’s more laying down than sitting, that cat beanie he always insists on wearing so low on his eyes they’re practically hidden.

 

George doesn’t rebut, so neither does Sapnap. He tries to follow the movie but it’s been so long since he paid attention and there are at least three new characters on the screen.

 

The familiar notes of Muffin by BadBoyHalo reach his ears, muffled. Dream groans but raises his body to pull out the phone he was laying on.

 

He groans. “It’s my sister, this could take a while. Can we finish the movie some other time? I don’t want to miss anything.” And with that he shuffles down the couch and stands with a stretch.

 

The only sound in the living room is Dream’s loud footsteps on the stairs. A door slams shut and just like that Sapnap is left with George.

 

Discreetly, he tries to readjust his position.

 

“What the hell is your problem? You’re shaking the whole couch when you do that.” George groans and throws his head back to rest against the back of the couch.

 

“Do you have to be such a dick all the time?” Sapnap shoots back.

 

George meets his eye briefly. There’s that familiar smirk on his lips, warning Sapnap that a bomb is about to hit. “You bring my dick up a lot. Want to make yourself useful for once?”

 

Sapnap jerks back, as if burned. Sex is the furthest thing from his mind right now. He still feels cold and lonely and he needs to heal a little before he can even think about sex again.

 

Sex does something to him. Like how some people have a strange reaction to weed and it makes them all paranoid, sex leaves Sapnap ready to rip his heart out for a few days after. It makes him feel cold and lonely and he’s just now finding enough strength to even think about showering.

 

“Well? No snarky comeback? Someone’s finally learning his place.” George is in his face, Sapnap didn’t even notice him move, one slender finger lifting his chin up to meet his dark eyes, gentler than he had been in weeks.

 

“W-what are you doing?” are the only words he can manage, throat dry all of a sudden, his stomach flipping in on itself and anxiety rushing through his veins.

 

George looks so fucking hot right now, hair tousled from where he was playing with it when they were watching the movie, t-shirt exposing just the right amount of collarbone and lips quirked up.

 

Sapnap never wants to look away.

 

Should he say something? He wants George to move away, to snatch him up and bring him closer, chest to chest, like they belong together. Before he can open his mouth, George splays his hand against Sapnap’s cheek, nails playing with the stubble growing there.

 

Sapnap swallows.

 

George is still looking at him with that look. Like he’s starving and Sapnap’s a piece of meat. George never looks at him this way, but then they’re never alone like this together.

 

Does George want him too? All these weeks of anger, of sadness and hurt are gone in an instant when slowly George brings him in closer, pulling him on top of himself until Sapnap is straddling George, his hand, gentle, never once leaving his cheek. It’s like he’s a fishing hook and Sapnap is a fish, connected to him, unable to pull away no matter how badly he wants to. He doesn’t want to, he wants George.

 

Before he can lean in and snatch his chance of kissing George (will it be better than kissing Dream?), George is pushing his head down, down, down.

 

Sapnap doesn’t know what’s happening until George, with sudden force, presses Sapnap’s face to his crotch.

 

Startled green eyes meet cool brown ones. George is still smirking at him, one hand now gripping at Sapnap’s hair with force and the other resting behind his head as he lays down on the couch.

 

So this is what George wants. And he won’t even kiss him to get it.

 

George’s shirt, so loose on him, slides down to expose more of his chest. He doesn’t grow much hair there, in contrast with Sapnap. He looks angelic, straight out of a magazine or movie.

 

“You going to suck it or what?” George says, a hint of impatience in his words. Sapnap swallows. He wanted to be kissed by George, to be held and have him look at him like he was doing just seconds ago. Why does it always turn to cold looks and smirks?

 

George’s thighs give him the heat he had been craving these past few days.

 

As if he said it aloud, George lifts his hips and pulls down his pants all in one ago, exposing his soft dick to Sapnap.

 

Even flaccid he’s huge. It’s always the ones you don’t expect.

 

Slowly, as if waiting for George to push him away any second, he grabs George in his hands.

 

The other hisses. “Fuck, your hands are cold. Use your mouth.” George commands. He’s being strangely nice tonight, not calling him anything mean and the hand in his hair seems less bruising than usual. He’s being nice. It’s all Sapnap could have asked for.

 

His heart feels warmer at the thought. Maybe he’s been exaggerating, antagonizing George because of his own stupid issues.

 

He doesn’t need George to help guide the dick into his mouth. It feels weird, he’s never sucked a soft dick before, but he does his best to bob up and down anyway, encouraged by the way George’s breath hitches.

 

He tries to remember what he likes. He’d usually use his hands but George told him not to so they rest on either side of George’s hips, careful to not touch the exposed skin there because they’re too cold.

 

Under his ministrations George grows hard. All of a sudden it goes from Sapnap sucking diligently at the soft flesh to George’s massive dick shoved down his throat, barely even half the length but he’s already struggling.

 

“Fuck.” George breathes above him, and Sapnap grinds down on the couch cushions, subconsciously, and he’s startled to find he’s also painfully hard.

 

George jerks his hips up with no warning and hits the back of Sapnap’s throat, making him gag. Tears spring to his eyes and he looks up at George through wet lashes to find him not even looking at him. His head is thrown back, one hand resting over his eyes while the other pulls at Sapnap’s hair before bringing his head back down, making him gag again.

 

George’s mouth is parted open, tongue darting out to wet his lips every now and again.

 

Sapnap could use him as a lock screen for the rest of his life.

 

He bobs his head with more enthusiasm, licking at the underside as he goes, mouthing at the tip before brining his head back down, guided by George. He grinds his hips back down, chasing any kind of friction. His dick sits at a weird angle in his underwear but it’s not painful yet.

 

George gasps when Sapnap brings his length down as far as it can go without making him throw up. “Fuck me, just like that.”

 

Sapnap isn’t sure if he can keep it up just like that but he does his best, which is made both easier and harder when George keeps pushing himself down his throat further than comfortable.

 

Sapnap’s cheeks are wet with tears and it makes his nose stuffy. He tries to gasp for breath but can only sniffle loudly, trying to get any air down to his lungs and into his brain.

 

His head is swimming in that emptiness again. All he can think about is his dick that’s aching to be touched, his chest burning from the lack of oxygen and George’s dick down his throat. He had just gotten his voice back after Dream ruined him two nights ago.

 

Three more wild jerks of George’s hips and he moans, salty and bitter cum shooting down Sapnap’s throat without warning. He swallows on instinct, still gagging on the length as a broken sob rakes his body.

 

George eases his head up and he swallows gulps of air, coughing at the taste in his mouth. He sniffles loudly, wiping with one cold hand under his cheeks to get rid of the embarrassing moisture there.

 

He grinds his hips down, horniness taking over any coherent thought, even when George pulls him away by his hair. “Get off me.” His voice is cold again, nothing like those few lust driven whispers minutes ago. Did Sapnap imagine them?

 

“W-what?” Sapnap is still breathing heavily, trying to catch up on lost air. He’s still laying in between George’s spread legs, now propped up by shaky hands. He can’t feel George under him anymore, or on his head, and he feels that gaping hole in his chest open again.

 

“Can you move?” George asks slowly, as if Sapnap’s a child. His eyes water and not because his throat stings anew.

 

He doesn’t even think about it before sitting back on his legs, bouncing expectantly and eyes searching George’s. This is it, he’s about to have his dick down George’s throat this time. It’s not much of a surprise that the other doesn’t look at him, instead pulls his pants up and stands. He stretches with a yawn, shirt riding up and exposing his happy trail that disappears into the sweats and shakes himself out with a grunt.

 

Sapnap wants to say something. He doesn’t know what, but he feels like he should.

 

“Okay then.” George bends down to snatch his phone from the coffee table. “Goodnight.” He says coldly and without a glance back starts towards the stairs.

 

“Wait!” Sapnap says before he can leave, before he can think, voice raspy and ruined.

 

George looks over his shoulder, eyebrow raised.

 

Sapnap hasn’t thought about what he was going to say. He wants to ask George to stay, at least for a second, just one hug, the length of two heartbeats, as long as it will take for both of the chambers to refill with new blood and he’ll be able to pretend he’s fine again.

 

“W-where are you going?” He bites his lips, hard, to stop them from trembling. He’s suddenly very much aware just how obvious his erection and the tears on his cheeks are.

 

He’s so pathetic.

 

“To stream.” George says like it’s obvious.

 

Should he ask if he can come with?

 

“Oh.” He says instead, hands twisting in his lap. They do little to help chase away the jitters in his body. “What about me?”

 

He didn’t meant to ask, but it slipped out. He didn’t even want to have sex but the least George could do is return the favour, right?

 

“What about you? Go stream if you want to.” George starts towards the stairs again, pace so relaxed, as if he wasn’t shooting his entire load down Sapnap’s throat just now. He’s always so composed after sex, relaxed and cocky and Sapnap wants to scream because he feels like mushy peas.

 

He does want to go to bed,  but the darkness of his bedroom is uninviting. He watches George ascend the stairs quietly, a fresh wave of tears now in his eyes.

 

He had gone from feeling like he’s on Cloud Nine to rock bottom in seconds. There’s no way he can stream. Mental issues aside, he can barely talk.

 

How would George sound, voice ruined and eyes wet with tears because of Sapnap?

 

Out of habit more than anything Sapnap grinds his hand against his shorts and finds he’s no longer hard. Maybe he would have felt better if he came at least, but this seems more fitting – alone in a big room with the taste of George in his mouth.

 

Typical.

 

He lays down in the space George had vacated, head nestling into the cushion. He feels cold despite the blanket around him.

 

George’s hoodie is right in front of his face, he had taken it off earlier, and it’s that oversized Tina merch, the black one he really likes. It’s way too cold to go without a hoodie, despite it being spring. It’s like there’s an ever present chill in his bones, and no matter how many layers he puts, on he can’t drive it away.

 

He could probably take a shower. He should, because he kind of smells and there’s precum in his underwear and effectively on his skin, but the hoodie is closer so he opts to pull it above his head instead.

 

It’s soft, and warm, George’s cologne still clinging to it faintly. George wears it a lot.

 

The TV screen has gone black. It’s late evening outside, making everything inside seem kind of gray and bleak.

 

Time stands still. It’s like he’s stuck, unable to move or reach for the remote to put anything on TV to drown out the silence, unable to lift his arms up to pull the blanket over himself, unable to be bothered to take a sip of whatever. All he’s good for is just laying there.

 

“Holy fuck.” Dream curses so loudly that Sapnap nearly has a heart attack. He lifts his head just enough to see the outline of Dream’s body by the couch, one hand clutching his chest and the other in his hair. “I thought you guys were gone I heard George’s door close.”

 

Sapnap hums. If Dream thinks that Sapnap is allowed in George’s bedroom outside of sex purposes then he’s severely wrong. “How’s your sister?” He rasps instead.

 

Dream moves over to throw himself back down on the couch, inches away from Sapnap’s feet. “You sound exhausted dude, your voice is fucking wrecked.”

 

It still is, from Dream. But it’s a whole new pain that George has just ignited. “Just tired.” It’s not really a lie.

 

“Did you guys watch anything else?” Dream asks as he reaches for the remote, exactly where he left it on the coffee table, but Sapnap’s reply is rendered useless when he finds the movie paused exactly where it had been. His eyes slide over to Sapnap and even in the dark, the knowing tilt to his lips is discernible. “What did you two get up to, huh?”

 

The dark obscures Sapnap’s blush. How does he put into human words that George shattered his heart and stomped on the remains for good measure? “Nothing.” He lies instead. It becomes easier every day.

 

“Right.” Dream stretches the vowel suggestively and wiggles his eyebrows. “So where’s George?”

 

“Dunno.”

 

“Ah.”

 

An uneasy silence falls over them. It would be so easy to tell Dream everything. The way George has been treating him, around Dream or not, the way Sapnap’s always cold and tired and he doesn’t feel like himself and how the thought of food makes him want to throw up and that he’d rather lick himself clean than take a shower and-

 

“Wanna watch something else?” Dream nestles back into the pillows with a content sigh.

 

I want a hug is what he wants to say. Hold me kiss me love me.

 

“Sure.”

 

“Oh look, George’s streaming.” Dream says, face turned down at his phone.

 

Sapnap frowns. Please, anything but George.

 

“Modern Family?” He asks instead, voice shaky.

 

Dream groans. “We always watch Modern Family, don’t you have that show memorized by now?”

 

He usually watches it to fall asleep. It’s light-hearted and comforting. He just shrugs.

 

“I’m going to go crash his stream.” Dream says, voice determined. He stands up. How does he do that without his vision swimming is beyond Sapnap, and Dream looks down expectantly. “You coming?”

 

Sapnap hesitates. It would be so easy to just say ‘sure’ and be done with it. Maybe he’d get to stand close enough to Dream to leech off his body heat. His heart feels like it’s a bag of rocks at the bottom of a river. “I think I’m going to take a nap, I’m kind of beat.”

 

Dream shrugs. “Okay.” And he’s gone in an instant. They were meant to watch something together, but of course Dream goes rushing to George every chance he can get. Sapnap doesn’t resent him for it, of course not. He feels colder than before.

 

So he just keeps laying there, neck cramping from the awkward angle, feet numb from the cold and hands pushed under George’s hoodie to suck up any possible warmth.

 

Minutes pass. He thinks he may have fallen asleep at some point or other because he feels slightly out of it when he comes to, like you do after day naps. He cannot equate the time he felt pass to the late hour on his phone.

 

“Did you even hear what I said?”

 

That’s George, yelling. He twists his neck, cringing at the kink. George stands by the foot of the couch, seething, fists clenched in anger and eyebrows furrowed, fury so evident even in the dark living room, the only light streaming in from the corridor.

 

Sapnap makes to huff in surprise, or confusion, or question, or all of the above, but George is in his face, yelling already. “You always fucking take my shit and I’m so done with it!”

 

The hoodie. Sapnap glances down to the garment he’s wearing. It still smells like George, like his cologne, and something so distinctly him that Sapnap wants to wrap himself up in it. He could die wearing this hoodie.

 

“Fucking take it off!”

 

“What the hell are you two yelling about again?” Dream emerges from the kitchen holding a steaming mug. Maybe coffee, if he’s going to edit tonight. His crazy benders are worrisome, to say the least. His ADHD definitely cannot handle the coffee, making him all the more tired and anxious, which only makes him drink more and the vicious cycle continues. On a normal day, Sapnap would smack the mug out of his hands, but he had already broken one this week and he really doesn’t want to ramp it up to two.

 

He's zoning out.

 

“He always takes all my stuff and I’m so over it!” George points an accusatory finger in Sapnap’s direction. Sapnap tries to blink the sleep out of his eyes.

 

“What did you take?” Dream directs the question at Sapnap but before he can so much as think about an answer, George is shouting again.

 

“My jumper! And now it will fucking stink like him, do you even shower, Nick?”

 

He does. Not really, not recently with how crap he’s ben feeling. Does he really smell so bad that George has to complain?

 

Discreetly, he tries to sniff his armpit, but he freezes when Dream locks eyes with him. “Why did you take his hoodie? You know how he is with his stuff.”

 

He’s speechless. Words have been stolen from his brain. “I-I…”

“See, he just does it to piss me off!” George is still shouting and Dream hates it when they fight and he doesn’t like raised voices and usually he’d tell George to back off. Dream stands there, looking at Sapnap with a raised eyebrow.

 

“Well? Give him back the hoodie.” The tone of voice could have been used with a two year old. Sapnap is not a child and definitely does not need to be scolded like one.

 

They’re both staring at him, Dream impassive and George still looking furious. Over a hoodie? Really? Dream is still looking at him with that stupid raised eyebrow, so, slowly, he starts to lift the hoodie off of him, missing the warmth instantly. Before it’s fully off him, George snatches it out of his hands, snagging it a little on his head and pulling his already sore neck forward.

 

“Hey!” He tries to protest because this seems like a slight overreaction. He has seen George borrow Dream’s hoodies plenty of times before, he was cold, he assumed something very logical.

 

“And keep your fat fucking hands off my shit.” George says, voice low and deadly as he bores holes into Sapnap’s skull. With one last sneer, he turns on his heel and bounces up the stairs and slams the door to his room for good measure.

 

Dream is looking after George with a contemplative look on his face. Sapnap doesn’t like it. The silence feels loaded, like a bomb is about to detonate.

 

“Sap…” Dream starts, gaze averted into his mug of coffee.

 

Sapnap waits patiently for him to finish. Maybe he’s overthinking and Dream is about to laugh at how dramatic George is. Then they’ll watch a show like they were meant to and Sapnap will ask to borrow one of Dream’s hoodies because it smells like him and it makes him feel less lonely. They’ll laugh and it will be just like old times, just them two, before George, before everything.

 

“You have to stop antagonizing him so much.” Dream’s words drive a knife into Sapnap’s gut.

 

“W-what?” He manages shakily.

 

Dream sighs. “You always try to rile him up like this, you knew he was going to get angry. You keep doing this and… it’s driving us all apart.” He looks sad. Sapnap itches to fix. “You’re making us all distant and I don’t know why you keep doing this, but you have to stop.” Dream looks at him then, face filled with thinly veiled disappointment.

 

There’s a knot in Sapnap’s throat, a dam barely containing the tears that want to fall. How can Dream even think he’s the one tearing them apart? He’s done nothing but try and be good, to placate George, to just love them in peace. They have been the ones that have been pushing him away, making him feel like crap and taking and taking and taking until he’s bled dry and left alone to the vultures.

 

Or maybe he’s failed at that too, and Dream is finally seeing through him, looking at how rotten he is inside. Maybe everything really is his fault, if him just being there is the source of George’s agony.

 

If he weren’t here, would George and Dream be in love? Would they go on dates and make love and cook food together and never fight because there would be no one to fight with?

 

“Are you even listening?” Dream waves a ringed hand in front of Sapnap’s face. He’s sat next to him on the couch now, mug on the table, lips turned down in a frown.

 

He wants to nod, but that would be a lie.

 

“You have to stop making him so angry. I don’t know what’s up with you lately. Is it your parents?”

 

It’s you.

 

But opening that can of worms is not something he plans on doing. It would entail confessing his feelings and honestly, he can’t take the heartbreak right now. He can’t feel  more like an intruder in his own home, like he doesn’t actually belong with them.

 

It’s a strange feeling, wanting to go away, but to want to go nowhere.

 

Sapnap shrugs. “I’m fine.”

 

“Well, you’re clearly not.” Dream protests immediately. Why can’t he just drop it?

 

“Dream-“

 

“You’re acting like a total dick all the time, so tell me. Why? Why do you pick on George all the time?” Dream looks dead serious, watching every twitch on Sapnap’s face. Can he not see his heart tearing in two? Can he not see how he’s ripping Sapnap’s soul through his teeth?

 

“Just drop it. I’m fine, I swear.” He has to be. He’s a fucking mess held together by a few strings.

 

Dream gives him one last long look. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything.”

 

Sapnap wants to believe him, but it’s his fault that George is angry, it’s all on him it’s always been him.

 

“I know.”

 

“Good.” Dream claps him on the back. “You better apologize to Georgie. You know how he is, he’ll silent treatment you into the ground.”

 

Sapnap knows. George ignores him anyway, apologies or no. But it is his fault that George is angry this time, he did take the hoodie, though he knew that George would be angry, cold or not.

 

“Okay.” His voice is strangely small, suffocated by the near darkness of the room.

 

It’s just George. Yet it feels like he’s walking to his doom. When he knocks on George’s door, all he gets is a fuck off, so he slinks back to his room, trying very desperately to not feel like a kicked puppy.

 

At least he tried, which is more than he can say about George.

 

What has he done? What happened between him and George to drive a chasm between them so deep it feels like no matter how many I’m sorrys and pleases Sapnap throws in there, it can never be filled? Not even a bridge would help them at this point.

 

All Sapnap wanted was to feel close to George for a second, to smell him without the expected get out right after they have sex. He can’t help but feel used after what George did earlier, the blowjob, the hoodie, everything.

 

Is it him antagonizing George, like Dream said? It can’t be all him, surely, it can’t all be in his fucking head.

 

He’s going crazy. Like he’s tethering on the edge of a cliff, ready to jump at any moment. He’s not sure who he is anymore, so confined into his little space, his little room, that somewhere along the way he’s packed himself away.

 

Who even is Sapnap at this point? Is it Nick Armstrong? Is he even alive?

 

How much can you change and get away with, before you turn into someone else, before it’s some kind of murder?

Notes:

Comments and kudos fuel me

Chapter 4: I’ve Cried So Many Nights

Days pass before George so much as looks at him. It doesn’t even come around naturally. It’s not like suddenly George realizes he’s a dick and comes crawling back.

 

Dream ambushes Sapnap when he’s about to dart into his room again. One hand clutching his freshly refilled ice cold water bottle, and the other holding the handrail, head still lightheaded from his mad dash to the kitchen. He didn’t want to see George in case he messed up a simple hello and George would yell.

 

“Whatcha doing?” Dream is blocking Sapnap’s door, swaying on his feet slightly, a mischievous grin on his face. His hair is ruffled and his shirt is crumpled, as if he had been in bed.

 

“Nothing.” Sapnap says, suddenly suspicious. He just wants to lay back down and scroll through TikTok for a few more hours, maybe call Karl and set up a meetup. They haven’t hung out in ages and he really thinks he should get away from everything.

 

“Good, so you’re not busy.” Dream doesn’t wait for a confirmation before grabbing one of Sapnap’s arms and dragging him to his own room where, lo and behold, George is sat on Dream’s bed, shirtless. His lips are shiny and red in a way that tells Sapnap exactly what was going on before he got there.

 

“Took you long enough.” George says but it’s directed at Dream, who laughs a little before jumping on the bed and pinning George down. George grunts in response but doesn’t push him away, letting Dream slot their lips together easily.

 

How can Dream just walk up to George and kiss him as if they’re together, as if he has a claim to George? How does Dream do that so easily?  

 

The bigger question is why can’t Sapnap?

 

He’s not left dwelling on this much longer, because Dream pulls away from George to kiss Sapnap without warning, and though usually he’s all soft, except when he has his dick down Sapnap’s throat, now he’s all teeth and force.

 

“What has gotten into you?” Sapnap says breathlessly when Dream pulls away a little to pull Sapnap’s shirt over his head.

 

“Haven’t fucked in too long.” He says quickly before he’s kissing Sapnap again as if he’s trying to suck his soul out.

 

It’s too much too fast. He’s not prepared for this, he just wanted to go back to bed, but when Dream moans into his mouth, he finds himself kissing back, because if he’s making Dream feel good, then he’s doing his job.

 

Dream groans again and bites down on Sapnap’s lip, hard, enough to make him wince. He tries to pull back a little but Dream has his hands firmly planted on either side of his face, keeping him in place as he pushes his tongue in further, feverish, almost.

 

Sapnap feels like he’s being devoured, and not in a good way.

 

He’s about to push at Dream’s chest in an attempt to at least get him to slow down when Dream pulls away himself. A string of saliva connects their lips for a moment before it breaks, slapping against Sapnap’s chin.

 

He thinks he’s drooling a little.

 

Dream isn’t even looking at him, attention turned to George who has his pants down already, his half hard dick clutched lazily in hand.

 

George is looking at Dream with that glint in his eye that makes Sapnap’s underwear grow harder.

 

“So gone for me already.” George rasps and pulls Dream down onto his dick. There’s a moment when he looks peaceful, happy almost, when he inhales sharply at the warmth of Dream’s mouth.

 

And Sapnap is not a jealous person but he can’t help but compare the way Dream’s waist is the perfect size for George to hold onto. George had slammed himself into Sapnap’s throat, rough and forceful, last time they did this. He’s much gentler now, hand running through Dream’s hair as Dream eagerly laps at George, panting like a dog in heat.

 

What the hell got him so riled up all of a sudden?

 

Dream wiggles his ass in the air expectantly, and when Sapnap only stares he eases off of George for a second to shoot him an expectant look. “Come on, I need it. Please, Sap.”

 

Fuck, that’s hot.

 

Sapnap wastes no more time and slips Dream’s sweats and underwear down in one motion. He’s already wiggling again, desperate, but Sapnap knows first-hand how painful this can be without lube.

 

He looks around but can’t find the little fucker. Dream is already groaning unhappily so he meets George’s eye, a little panicked. Despite having his dick down Dream’s throat he looks as composed as ever, save for the little pants that slip past his lips. He jerks his head to Dream’s bedside table before averting his eyes and paying closer attention to Dream.

 

Sapnap tries not to let it sting as he reaches for the lube and starts warming it up on his fingers.

 

Without much warning he slips a finger into Dream, enjoying the way Dream moans obscenely. He sets a leisurely pace. He’s not too sure when Dream’s last time had been, unless him and George have been active without him, which happens more often than not.

 

No, he can’t think about it right now, he needs to focus.

 

For a second, he’s left hooking his finger inside Dream clumsily, searching for that spot, eager to make him feel even better.

 

He had never fucked either of them. He’s too scared to ask, lest they decide his services in the bedroom are no longer needed.

 

“More.” Dream gasps and instantly takes George in his mouth again so Sapnap obediently slips another one in, Dream’s hole swallowing them whole.

 

“Just like that, good boy.” George tightens his hold on Dream’s curls making the other moan again. Sapnap speeds his fingers, snapping them in and out, curling them in different directions inside Dream until… there. Dream has to pause his ministrations on George to let his head rest against his thigh when Sapnap curls his fingers there again, reaching as far as his knuckles will let him and hammering in on that one spot.

 

He feels proud, above all else. Like he’s accomplished something at least, like he’s being useful.

 

“There, there.” George pats Dream’s head in comfort, a soft smile on his lips. “Good boy.”

 

Sapnap snaps his fingers in faster. He’s the one making Dream feel good, how come he’s not good boy?

 

But Dream asked him to be here, so he’s going to do his damned best.

 

“Stop.” George says, voice hard and commanding in a way Sapnap finds he can’t disobey. He stills, three fingers deep in Dream’s asshole, Dream writhing below him on the bed unhappily.

 

In an instant, George flips Dream so he’s laid against the pillows at the head of the bed and he’s between his legs, underwear lost somewhere on the bed.

 

Sapnap’s fingers are still lubed up, shiny, still extended when George aligns his dick with Dream’s puckered hole and pushes in in one go.

 

Dream’s eyes roll back as his hands clutch the sheets desperately.

 

George doesn’t wait for Dream to adjust before he’s jerking his hips forward at a brutal pace, turning Dream into a moaning mess beneath him.

 

“Yeah, you like that? You like Sap watching you like this?” George says a little breathlessly.

 

Dream nods his head, or tries to, eyes finding Sapnap’s. There’s a blush on his face and when he attempts to cover himself with his hands, George grabs them and pins them above, which gives him more leverage to keep up the fast pace he’s set.

 

Sapnap is sat on the bed, far enough that he can’t feel their heat but can still feel the bed shake. His hands are cold and he wants to put them on George’s bare back, feel the muscles tense under his fingertips.

 

“Good boy.” George grits his teeth. Sapnap can’t see his face from where he’s sat but he can see Dream’s; the lewd noises and the way his face is scrunched and sweat drips down his nose makes Sapnap hard.

 

Which is confusing.

 

He wants to leave. He feels like he’s floating outside of his body, watching the scene through eyes that aren’t his.

 

He wants to touch, too. George, Dream, whoever, just so he doesn’t feel like he’s alone.

 

He squirms in place, underwear uncomfortably tight.

 

“Just-“ Dream pants “-touch yourself.” He looks a mess. Sapnap can’t tear his eyes away.

 

George glances at Sapnap over his shoulder, but their eyes meet for one second before he turns back to Dream. With one hand he grabs at Dream’s cock and gives it a few fast strokes even when the other twists under him. Both his arms are still pinned above his head.

 

Would George look at him again if he took his pants off?

 

So he does, lifting off his thighs to slip them down himself and letting his cock free. Hesitantly he wraps a hand around himself, squeezing slightly at the tip. The precum that’s leaked makes the slide easier.

 

What would it feel like to be buried in Dream the way George is?

 

He strokes himself slowly, staring at the two, unable to look away. He can’t look at George directly because his heart will break, so he looks at Dream instead.

 

He’s been in love with the two of them ever since he can remember. And there they are, together, content to have him just watch.

 

He can’t even really blame them.

 

All of a sudden George flips Dream onto his front, strong arms tensing under the pressure, and despite Dream’s height on him he manages to pin him down with ease, both arms now gripping his waist as he slams down with force.

 

Sapnap doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this.

 

Dream is practically mewling when George leans over him, burying his nose in Dream’s hair. It looks far too intimate for the pace they have set.

 

“Feel good?” George murmurs, but it’s loud enough for Sapnap to hear. “You like him watching you? You like him touching himself to how good you sound?”

 

Dream groans but it’s muted by the pillows.

 

Sapnap almost forgot he’s meant to touch himself. Despite it all, it still feels good, so he speeds up, working to get his dick hard again.

 

The only sound in the room is the rough slap of skin on skin, wet from lube, as George hammers into Dream ruthlessly. He places a chaste kiss to Dream’s shoulder, and Sapnap is almost glad he can’t see his face, wouldn’t want to see the love displayed there.

 

Maybe this is for the best, him sitting on the sidelines, a wallflower, witnessing and not participating.

 

Dream comes first. With a loud moan and a fuck George his hips shake as he comes into the covers under him, fingers white from how hard they’re clutching at the sheets.

 

George follows shortly after. One last grunt and he brings Dream to his chest, lifting him off the bed and exposing the shiny liquid stuck to his stomach. Sapnap traces his eyes down to the wet sheets.

 

George and Dream are panting in unison, George’s face hidden away in the crook of Dream’s neck and at this point Sapnap just wants to leave.

 

He tugs at his dick one last time and spills into his hand because he’s not sure what else to do.

 

They’re not looking at him.

 

George, softly, lowers Dream’s body down, avoiding the wet patch, and collapses next to him, still holding Dream, almost hidden behind his larger body, only the tip of his sweat-covered black hair peeking out from over Dream’s shoulder.

 

He should go. He’s not really a part of this, so Dream won’t offer cuddles. Sometimes, when he’s lucky, Dream will kiss him softly or hug him close before he has to leave.

 

But Dream’s eyes are closed and Sapnap has cum on his hand. He doesn’t even feel any better after the orgasm, just empty.

 

Slowly, not wanting to disturb the pair, he lifts himself off the bed and lets his feet hit the cold floor.

 

“Where are you going?” Dream asks, voice stretched by a yawn, still safe in George’s arms.

 

Sapnap doesn’t think he’s ever been hugged by George. Maybe when they first met, maybe when George was drunk during that one episode of Banter.

 

He hesitates. “M-My room.”

 

“Why?”

 

He’s not looking at Dream, but he knows the expression on his face all too well – tired and curious more than anything. It’s not an invitation to stay, it’s just an innocent question to drive away the silence and drown out the sound of breathless panting that still fills the room.

 

It smells like sex. It smells like hurt and sadness and he has to go.

 

“I have to…” It’s empty words.

 

The cum on his hand is drying and it feels cakey. He clumsily pulls his shorts back up.

 

“You don’t have to do anything. Stay for a second.” Dream says lazily and it’s nice that he’s trying, but behind him George shakes his head, eyes hard and cold.

 

“I… should go.” He’s at the door in seconds, hands trembling, and he doesn’t dare to look back.

 

“Okay. Night, Sap.” Dream says.

 

“Goodnight.” And he’s gone because he can’t stay there a second longer knowing he’s not really wanted.

 

He pretends it’s consideration that makes him close the door behind himself, but really he just doesn’t want to hear them.

 

He’s drained completely when he collapses in bed. Why did Dream even invite him here if he didn’t want him to participate? Is this some new cruel way they’ve come up with to hurt him more?

 

More so than ever he feels like they’re playing with him and he’s so done. He just wants someone to crawl inside his broken heart, find where he’s most ruined and love him there.

 

He’s so hungry for love. Just once, he wants to know what it’s like to get his fill of it – to be fed so much love he can’t take any more. Just once.

 

There must be something wrong with him. Dream and George are fine with things the way they are, so why isn’t he? Why won’t George just kiss him, hold him, love him?

 

He must be so unlovable even his bestest friends, his family, can’t take him in full.

 

Maybe that’s just how things are meant to be – lonely. That’s all he is, all he’ll ever be – empty and lonely.

 

He washes away his own cum in the bathroom sink and feels his life slip down the drain.

 

Sapnap wakes up the next morning alone, like always, after an uneasy rest. That coldness that always creeps up on him the day after they have sex is back, but it’s strange because he wasn’t even touched last night. Yet still, there’s that chill in his heart, back in full force.

 

And he knows that no matter how many times they break him down like this, he’ll come crawling back like the pathetic man he is, desperate for any crumbs of attention he can find.

 

Eventually the churning in his stomach drives him out of bed, and carefully he steps out of his room, listening for any signs of life in the house.

 

He hears them, downstairs, laughing casually. Had George spent the night in Dream’s room? They never fool around in Sapnap’s, but he wonders if the two of them would leave after. Or would they stay, all three of them in his California King bed, tucked away under warm covers?

 

Sapnap has no choice but to brave his way downstairs. He doesn’t want to see them, doesn’t want to see how happy they are without him. It’s not even news to him. He’s being delusional, thinking he can still be privy to intimacy.

 

Dream and George are sat by the kitchen island. Dream is wheezing hysterically at something George is saying; he’s barely able to get the words out because he’s laughing so hard.

 

Sapnap can’t remember the last time he heard George laugh like that.

 

Dream’s whole body shakes, one hand banging on the table and he falls out of the bar stool, barely catching himself on his feet. He turns away from George, trying to catch his breath, and his eyes find Sapnap, awkwardly stood in the threshold.

 

He must be sight to see, with his hair unwashed and sticking up in all directions, his hoodie stained and so oversized it hides his shorts.

 

He should have just starved in his room.

 

“Oh, Sap, you’re awake!” Dream says cheerfully, straightening his back out and wiping a stray tear from his eye. His body still shakes with remnants of giggles. “We already ate but I left some pancakes for you.”

 

George isn’t talking anymore, smile gone, as he stares Sapnap down.

 

“…Oh.” It was a nice gesture from Dream, sure. They must have woken up together then, if they ate together. Had they not thought about waking him up?

 

“Yeah, here.” Dream pats the bar stool next to him and plants a plate of cold pancakes in Sapnap’s face as soon as he hesitantly sits down.

 

George is still staring at him with those heartless eyes. Does he have something on his face?

 

“Last night was fun.” Dream starts when Sapnap takes a small bite out of a pancake, appetite gone. So they’re not going to talk about whatever it was they were laughing about. It’s none of Sapnap’s business.

 

“Mhmm.” Sapnap agrees as he chews, because what else is he meant to say. Every time he closes his eyes he sees George place a kiss to Dream’s shoulder.

 

“Right.” Dream pushes away from the island and stands when no one else offers any more conversation. “I have a shit ton of editing to do so I’ll catch you both later. Play nice you two.”

 

“Wait!” Sapnap grabs the edge of Dream’s tshirt before he can help himself. Furious red glows on his cheeks but it’s too late, he had already closed his hand around the material. “Can we… hang out today?”

 

Dream cocks his head in surprise. “Oh?”

 

Sapnap was hoping for a simple yes or no answer, and not a secret third option where he has to explain that he feels empty and cold and he really can’t be by himself right now. Not when he had entered the kitchen and saw them laughing and instantly felt better.

 

He feels better just holding Dream’s t-shirt. He’ll go crazy if he’s in his room all day, alone with his thoughts. He still thinks about the way George held Dream to his chest and it’s eating him alive.

 

“Just… We haven’t really hung out in a while and…” He doesn’t want to say it. “I- I miss you guys.”

 

Embarrassment colors him an ugly shade of red. He clutches Dream’s t-shirt harder and his sad pancake and hopes, prays, that they will say yes. He’ll take George glaring at him all day over the coldness of his room.

 

“I have work to do.” George says indifferently as he hops off the stool and is gone in an instant.

 

Dream is looking at Sapnap with those deep green eyes of his, as if searching for answers Sapnap doesn’t have.

 

Just say yes.

 

Sapnap’s ruining it. He made George leave just by entering the room and now Dream is looking at him without a smile on his face and he’s ruining it.

 

“You okay? Your hand is freezing.” Dream’s holding his hand now, and it sends actual electricity through his skin. It almost hurts so he pulls his hand back before he can think about it.

 

“Yeah.” He lies instantly because it’s easier than explaining he’s sad for no real reason.

 

“You can come sit in my room when I edit.” Dream says graciously, a smile on his face that Sapnap can’t quite read. Is it pity? Is it annoyance? “If you want.”

 

“Yes.” He doesn’t have to think about it. Then, quieter, “Please.”

 

Dream gives him a smile that at least seems a little more real. “Okay, come on then.”

 

Sapnap has to let Dream’s t-shirt out of his hands when he stands up, so he decides to abandon the pancake too. He’s not hungry anymore, not after the way George excused himself as soon as he came in. What has he done that’s so bad that George can’t even be in the same room as him now?

 

Dream goes for his room in silence and Sapnap feels a little like a little kid trailing behind his mom at the supermarket. Without a word Dream sits in his chair and only spares him a small smile before he slips his headphones on and shuts Sapnap out.

 

Sapnap is left to his own devices, but at least he’s not totally alone. Almost as if expecting Dream to turn around and tell him to just go he lowers his body onto Dream’s unmade sheets. They haven’t been changed from last night. They must have slept here then.

 

His body relaxes involuntarily, surrounded by Dream’s scent like this so he allows himself to lie down on the bed, head finding the soft pillows. He sighs, at peace for the first time in weeks.

 

It had been a solid while since he had sat with either of his roommates like this, just existing in the same space together. Normally he’d either be on his phone or doing work of his own, but he’s happy to just shut his eyes for a second despite the fact that he had just woken up. Not like he ever wakes up rested anyway, not when he knows Dream and George spend nights together.

 

He doesn’t fall asleep, but the soft clicking of Dream’s keyboard lulls him into a state of semi consciousness, head pleasantly empty as he keeps breathing lungfuls of Dream with every inhale.

 

With Dream sat in the same room, together and in silence for once, the hole in Sapnap’s heart mends itself a little. It’s one less crack in an otherwise shattered vase.

 

A loud groan snaps him back to reality, out of that empty floaty headspace that makes him forget he hasn’t been hugged in weeks.

 

Sapnap peels a sticky eye open and watches as Dream leans back in his chair, arms above his head as he groans with another stretch. “I need a break.” He announces to the room before turning around and locking eyes with Sapnap. He smiles. “You look cozy. Didn’t you just wake up?”

 

Maybe if he asked Dream for a hug he’d get one, however brief.

 

Just go.

 

“Didn’t sleep well.” It’s not a lie when he wakes up with headaches and tear tracks more often than not.

 

“Huh.” Dream stands and stretches his long limbs. A satisfying pop is audible in the otherwise silent room. “I need a break.” He says again.

 

Sapnap can do that. “Wanna watch something?” He feels like he’s slurring but he’s too tired to tell.

 

“I was thinking something more… like a break.” Dream wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

 

Sapnap is not sure if he can take sex right now. He can still feel the burn of George’s dick down his throat, the way both him and Dream held him down and had him just take it. And the worst part is that he got off on it. He did, right? He was still hard, he still came, it’s not like they forced him into it. He liked it.

 

Somehow the memories feel rotten, like sour milk. The thought of having someone choke him like that again actually makes him shiver. Maybe he can jerk Dream off, though. That should be okay. Or let Dream fuck him, so long as he goes slow.

 

The memories of last night make his heart all over again. The scent of Dream isn’t even comforting anymore.

 

“You… you really want to?” His voice is small, scared almost. But it’s Dream, Dream would never hurt him.

 

“Yeah.” Dream sits on the edge of the bed now, face earnest. It’s Dream. It’s the same green eyes he’s known since he was eleven. Same hair, same kind smile, hands and knees. It’s Dream.

 

Then why is his heart beating so fast?

 

He had never done anything with Dream alone, save for a little foreplay. Dream had always invited George in. And aside from that one blowjob Sapnap gave George the other day he had never been alone with George either.

 

Dream just wants Sapnap to blow him. That must be it.

 

Sapnap is still laying down against the pillows when Dream crawls across the bed slowly, on hands and knees, a sudden dark look in his eyes.

 

Sapnap doesn’t like it.

 

He just wants to sleep in Dream’s bed, maybe get a hug if he’s lucky before he’s made to go back into his room and sit in the dark for hours. He just wants a break.

 

Dream hovers above him, a glint in his eye, and Sapnap just wants to be good. Come rain or fire, whether Dream knows it or now, Sapnap’s heart is entirely in his hands. His to take, to love and to break.

 

“Will you suck my dick?” Dream asks sweetly and despite the fact that Sapnap knew exactly where this was going his heart still sinks to the floor.

 

He’s only good for one thing. He’s just another hole to use.

 

He hesitates for a second too long and then Dream is sitting back on his legs, a sudden wave of concern on his face. He shouldn’t be concerned, really, Sapnap’s fine.

 

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” Dream says, but the way his lips turn into a frown looks too much like disappointment and Sapnap can’t risk that.

 

If he’s not good for sex then what is he good for? What if the only reason Dream and George keep him around is because he has a mouth and an ass?

 

“No, no, I want to.” Sapnap assures but the words sound empty even to his own ears.

 

Dream doesn’t look convinced. “Sap, we really don’t have to. It’s just I didn’t actually get to be with you yesterday so I was hoping we could catch up. But if you don’t want to-“

 

“No, I do! I do, I really do.” Sapnap says, voice choked from tears.

 

He does want to, he does. Dream is still looking at him as if he’s broken and he’s not.

 

He’s not.

 

“Sap-“

“Dream, please.” It comes out small, pathetic, as George would say. It’s pathetic, begging Dream to shove his dick down his throat just to feel something other than the heaviness of his heart.

 

He doesn’t think he’ll be able to get hard no matter what they do, so he rather not take off his pants, but truth be told Dream could probably turn him on if he tried. Sapnap doesn’t want to get turned on though, not really. He feels empty and spent and tired and he just wants to sleep forever.

 

If he hadn’t woken up today, would Dream have gone to George instead? Would either of them have noticed?

 

When nobody wakes you up in the morning, and when nobody waits for you at night, and when you can do whatever you want. What do you call it, freedom or loneliness?

 

“Okay.” Dream says after a second, and he leans in to place a short closed mouth kiss to Sapnap’s lips. That kiss alone makes him feel warmer than he had all morning.

 

“Do you still want me to suck you off?” Sapnap asks timidly. He’s waiting for the ball to drop, for Dream to laugh at how childish and weird he’s being but it never comes.

 

He’s met with a soft smile instead “Do you want to?”

 

Sapnap shrugs. “Sure.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Okay.” Dream lifts himself off again and when he pulls his pants down he exposes his soft dick. He takes himself in hand and gives it a few strokes, watching Sapnap carefully. He bites his lip.

 

Sapnap was right. Dream is fucking hot and that small action in of itself sends blood down south.

 

“You’re so fucking hot.” Dream says, voice low.

 

Dream is full of little lies like that when they’re about to have sex.

 

“I think I want to fuck you instead.” Dream keeps going. Sapnap swallows past the dryness in his throat. “You’d like that? If my memory serves you didn’t get any last night. You want to get fucked, huh?”

 

How can Dream be so damn horny all the time is beyond him. George had railed him to heaven and back hours ago and this man is ready for round two? Sapnap wouldn’t have been able to walk for days, let alone be horny enough for dirty talk.

 

But Dream looks so turned on already, dick hard when he leans over Sapnap that it’s hard to say no.

 

Sapnap nods because words fail him. He’s afraid that if he opens his mouth he’ll cry.

 

Dream doesn’t wait, but dives in for a heated kiss, and it’s just as overwhelming as it had been yesterday. It’s a lot, to have Dream above him like this, caging him in and making him feel small, defenceless.

 

And yet it’s still Dream, so he parts his mouth and lets the other’s tongue sweep inside. Dream palms at the front of Sapnap’s sweatpants and despite it all, there’s still a clog in his throat, he can feel himself grow hard.

 

His eyes slip shut with ease when Dream thrusts a hand down his pants. It’s a nice gesture, getting him hard. He’d probably get hard regardless because Dream’s body heat is doing things to him, but he appreciates it nonetheless.

 

But then Dream’s dry fingers wonder south and something prods at his asshole.

 

“Dream.” He tries to say but it comes out muffled through Dream’s mouth. He can’t do this dry, there’s no fucking way.

 

Dream pushes a finger inside roughly, skin dragging on skin and burning. Despite the flare of pain in his backside his body betrays him by the little spark of pleasure. But then Dream drags the finger out and pushes it back in.

 

“You like that? I could fuck you just like this. Fucking dry, and you’d take it.” Dream growls above him.

 

Sapnap’s muscles tense, mouth going stagnant all of a sudden. He wouldn’t do that, would he?

 

It’s been a couple of weeks since he started having sex, he’s definitely not ready to be pounded bareback. Physically or mentally.

 

Dream pulls Sapnap’s pants down in one harsh tug, releasing Sapnap’s half hard dick. It lays against his stomach, half interested in what’s happening and half scared.

 

But then, thank fuck, Dream reaches over to the bottle of lube on the nightstand that’s still there from last night. Sapnap can’t think about last night right now.

 

Sometimes there’s a gentleness to Dream, usually when George is in a mood. There’s times when George will go so hard on Sapnap that he’s on the brink of tapping out, then Dream is there, soft kisses and hugs. Not that Sapnap has ever tapped out before.

 

Right now Dream is anything but soft, hands rough and cold as they squirt lube on his fingers and thrust them inside with little warning. His jaw is clenched, eyes focused only on Sapnap’s but there’s a certain intensity to them that he just can’t handle.

 

If he told him to stop would Dream be gentle again? Or would he get angry like George gets sometimes?

 

Sapnap can’t keep looking into Dream’s eyes so he closes them. Sometimes he pretends it’s someone else in his place, as if these things aren’t really happening to him. It makes things easier.

 

Sweat beads at Sapnap’s temple when Dream starts pumping two fingers in and out, scissoring him open to stretch him out as quickly as possible. It’s a little painful, but it feels good too, overwhelming in every way.

 

He’s reduced to a pool of moans and not too long after there’s something larger prodding at his entrance.

 

Sapnap’s eyes shoot open and he glances down to see Dream, naked from the waist down, aligning himself with his ass.

 

When had he taken his pants off?

 

And just like that Dream pushes inside quickly, Sapnap’s dick twitching at the pleasant stretch. He’s hard, but it doesn’t feel like he’ll be able to come untouched today. He’s in a strange headspace, still floaty and distant.

 

Dream has both his hands propped either side of Sapnap’s face as he starts thrusting, so it’s up to Sapnap to lift his cold hands to Dream’s clothed chest, seeking contact. Blond hair flops over Dream’s eye and when he bites his lip Sapnap can no longer contain the low moans he was trying to subdue. A part of him doesn’t want George to hear. A part of him does. Would George come, if he knew he was being excluded?

 

Does Sapnap even want him to?

 

One of his hands finds itself under Dream’s shirt, the other wonders down to jerk himself off in time with Dream’s thrust that are already turning sloppy. Dream grunts, voice low, hips slapping against Sapnap’s with a satisfying snap.

 

Then Dream nails his prostate dead on and Sapnap’s vision goes white. Dream must sense he found it because he speeds up, angling his hips so that he hits it every time and Sapnap comes with no warning, the orgasm much too much, too fast, barely pleasurable with how overwhelmed he feels. Warm cum splatters against his shirt, sinking through the material and some landing next to Dream’s from last night.

 

Dream doesn’t ease up, fucking him through it harshly and Sapnap would tell him to stop if his mouth wasn’t coated in drool. His tongue lolls out like a dog’s and he can’t keep George’s harsh words out of his mind any loner.

 

Dog.

 

Pathetic.

 

The pleasure recedes significantly and Dream is still slamming against Sapnap, grunting every now and then but by the way his eyebrows scrunch Sapnap can tell he’s close. He had wanted to have sex so badly today, Sapnap can do this, he can hold out for him.

 

Every other thrust hits his oversensitive prostate and he squirms, tears pooling in his eyes as he does his best to keep his lip from wobbling.

 

But then, three more rough thrusts and Dream spills inside him with a guttural moan, head dropping and almost resting against Sapnap’s forehead. If he lifted his head off the cushions he could touch skin to skin.

 

He doesn’t.

 

A drop of Dream’s sweat hits him on the nose.

 

“Fuck.” Dream hisses when he starts pulling out softly, Sapnap’s abused hole clenching around nothing, and, despite it all, he feels empty.

 

Physically, emotionally, mentally.

 

Dream collapses next to him, on the other side of the cum stain, and throws one hand over Sapnap’s stomach. That contact alone sets his insides on fire more than any orgasm could.

 

Next to him Dream is trying to catch his breath. “Holy shit.” He swears again. “I fucking needed that.”

 

And Sapnap knows. His hyperactive sex drive keeps him on the verge of too much for Sapnap to handle, but seeing his blissed out expression makes it all worth it, even considering the flaring pain in his ass already.

 

But with Dream laying next to him, that one arm keeping him secure, he would do this as many times as it takes just to have Dream hold him like this.

 

He would kill himself over and over again if it meant Dream smiled at him with that slight quirk to his lips, face flushed and eyes half shut.

 

“How you feeling?” In a rare display of affection Dream turns on his side and reaches to push Sapnap’s sweaty hair out of his face.

 

“Good.” It’s not a lie, not really. There’s no George to tell Sapnap to leave, no one to interrupt when Dream smiles wider, pleased.

 

“Good.” He echoes, one hand still in his hair and the other against his head, propping himself up.

 

Sapnap could stay like this forever, content just watching Dream as his eyes grow heavy again. He had wanted this to start with today, still feeling cold and insecure after last night and he didn’t think sex would make him feel better, but somehow, it did, even if a little bit.

 

Or maybe it’s not about having a dick in his ass but about the way Dream tickles the hairs on the nape of Sapnap’s neck and the way he leans in to place a soft kiss to his nose.

 

It starts a fire in Sapnap’s heart.

 

“Okay.” Dream pats him on the shoulder. “I’m going to shower, but you can stay here if you want. Or you should shower too, there’s cum on your collarbone.” The mirth in his eyes does not ease the wave of anxiety in Sapnap’s chest when Dream starts getting up.

 

He’s leaving? Why?

 

Sapnap doesn’t think he can walk.

 

“That’s your fault, stupid idiot.” Sapnap tries to mask the unease with a joke but it still comes out uneven. Dream doesn’t seem to notice, though, as he stands up and pulls on his underwear again.

 

“True.” His back is turned now as he heads for the door. “But I don’t have cum on mine so do with that what you will.” And he’s gone before Sapnap can muster the courage to ask him for one last kiss before the gates of intimacy shut again. At least until he spreads his legs again and is granted the privilege of being held.

 

He doesn’t want to get up. There’s still a dull ache between his legs, and even when he feels cum dripping out of him he can’t really be bothered to do much about it. Dream could have at least handed him a towel or something.

 

So he opts to just lie there and wait for his brain to calm down and function again. It feels too much like George leaving straight after sex, or kicking him out, and Sapnap gets it. They have a much closer bond with each other than with him, that much had been obvious before these sex capades even started.

 

When Dream had a problem he always went to George. When George was sad he always went to Dream. And it hadn’t mattered that Sapnap flew all the way to the UK despite being deathly afraid of planes, it hadn’t mattered that he listened to George cry about not getting his Visa, none of it even compared in his eyes to Dream simply picking up the phone. Nothing he will ever be able to do will even wash up to them.

 

Sapnap is all alone, in every way, in Dream’s bed with cum between his legs, in this house, in the world.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

Sapnap had been so lost in his thoughts and trying not to have a breakdown in Dream’s bed that he completely missed George opening the door with a less than impressed face. He’s in jeans, dressed to go out.

 

The predicament Sapnap is in makes it very obvious what he’s doing here. He’s still naked from the waist down, asshole exposed to George with a suspicious white fluid leaking out of him. Dream’s absence shouldn’t even be weird. Neither of them ever stay.

“Doesn’t matter, can you leave?” George inspects his nails as he leans against the doorframe, uninterested and bored already.

 

Sapnap stills. “But… Dream said I- I could stay.”

 

George glances at him briefly before looking down again, as if Sapnap isn’t even worth looking at. As if he’s dirt between his fingernails. “I don’t care, get the hell out.”

 

“This isn’t your room.” Sapnap tries, suddenly very aware that he’s naked. It’s too late to try and preserve his dignity, and he has no idea where his pants are, so he’s forced to sit there, red flushing his face and chest, dick flaccid against his stomach as George stands there, annoyingly calm as ever.

 

“So? I need to talk to Dream, can you just go.” Like always it’s not said unkindly. There’s no venom behind his words, no anger, no hate. It makes it hurt all the more, sending Sapnap spiralling because the whiplash he gets from George makes his neck hurt. If he doesn’t hate him then why can’t he stay?

 

The answer is obvious.

 

 “Why can’t you talk somewhere else?” It comes out way too small, defenceless, the way he used to try to talk back to his father and pretend he could accomplish something.

 

He knows why they can’t. Sapnap is overstaying his welcome because he has no real claim to Dream. He’s George’s, always will be. Sapnap knows his place.

 

“Shut the fuck up.” George, at least, looks angry now. His typical emotionless façade makes Sapnap more uncomfortable than anger does. At least this way he’s human. “Stop being a bitch. Just go.”

 

Sapnap does not have the energy to argue. He’d rater stay and wait for Dream, even if all he got out of it was to watch the man edit for another couple of hours  –  that would have been fine by him. He doesn’t want to be sent off to his room alone, again, feeling like crap, again.

 

What choice does he have? Underwear still nowhere in sight, Sapanp is forced to stand up, t-shirt only coming up to the very top of his thighs and definitely does not preserve his modesty. George just looks at him, in the eyes, not anywhere else. Lazily he steps to the side, clearing the path. With flaming cheeks Sapnap scurries past him, careful not to touch him as he goes. He’s not sure if he could handle human touch right now, not from George especially.

 

George burns on a good day. His touch, rare as it is, lights his body up in a way that’s painful, even if all that’s happened is their hands brush. On a bad day George is electricity, shocking him to his core and making his hair stand on end.

 

He still hasn’t forgiven George for the way he pushed him aside yesterday but he knows it’s only a matter of time. George will never apologize, it’s not in his nature to, so Sapnap will dwell on the pain for a couple of days before he decides to let it go, or George invents a completely new way of breaking him apart.

 

Sometimes he wonders if George does it on purpose or if he’s always been an asshole.

 

Dream seems to think it’s just George’s nature; he was built for actions not words. But going off that logic George must really hate him if all he ever does is burn him.

 

It doesn’t matter either way. At the end of the day it will always be Sapnap, alone, going back to his room where he collapses on the bed, uncaring of smearing cum everywhere. He still hasn’t changed his sheets so it’s not like it will make a mess anyway. It will always be silent in his room, cold and dark, and it will always be broken by the sound of Dream’s door closing, distant voices shutting him out again and again, chipping away at him like pickaxes at coal.

 

No matter if George is an asshole or not, it will always end in closed doors and tears.

 

Sapnap only lets himself cry for a good half an hour or so before his head starts to hurt and the tears in his heart don’t heal. People say a good cry will make you feel better but honestly, Sapnap is just tired.

 

When crying himself to sleep doesn’t really work he opts to turn on his PC and throw a pair of headphones on to shut the world out. Maybe Karl will be willing to play something for a bit. Or Punz. But Punz tends to get competitive and Sapnap’s not too sure if his heart can handle it.

 

He barely manages to open Discord before someone’s pulling the headphones off his head. “Hey!”

 

When he turns around he’s faced with Dream, hair dripping from the shower onto a white t-shirt, slipping past the skin on his throat.

 

Sapnap swallows.

 

“Dude, what the hell.” Dream crosses both arms and stares down at Sapnap, face twisted in a frown. It doesn’t suit him.

 

“W-what?”

 

“You left to play games? What the hell?” Dream sounds angry.

 

Above all the emotions in his head, all Sapnap can focus on is the confusion. “What are you talking about, Dream?”

 

“Just now!” Dream raises his voice and doesn’t notice Sapnap flinch. “I told you to stay but you just left me right after we had sex. We had sex Sapnap and you weren’t there when I got back.”

 

You left me first.

 

But Dream looks hurt, the way Sapnap always feels, and he had never wanted him to feel like this after sex. He just did exactly what he promised himself he would never do –  hurt either of his two best friends.

 

“Dream, I-“

 

“That was really shitty of you, is what I wanted to say.” Dream huffs with an air of finality to it, leaving little room for Sapnap to argue. But he still has to at least try to apologize, he cannot let Dream leave angry and sad.

 

He can’t stand to think that Dream could ever cry himself to sleep.

 

“Dream, I’m really sorry. I should have been there when you got back from the shower, that was really crappy of me. I’m sorry.” He’s genuine when he smiles, or so he hopes. Inside, a small seed of anger begins to fester.

 

Dream always leaves. He had left half an hour ago, and he’s blaming him? Dream had left time and time again.

 

“Fine.” Dream says indifferently. It doesn’t really seem like it’s fine. “Next time though at least tell me. And don’t choose games over me, that’s a really crappy position to put me in.”

 

George was the one that made Sapnap leave. Does Dream know?

 

“D-did George talk to you in the end?” Sapnap asks hesitantly. There’s no way George made him leave out of spite… right?

 

“Yeah.” Dream says, eyebrows scrunched in visible confusion. “We’re going to eat.”

 

Without you goes unsaid. “…Oh.”

 

Dream’s eyes go wide. “I mean we would have invited you and everything, it’s just we’re going to that sushi place you don’t like so we figured you’d have said no anyways.”

 

We figured. Go figures.

 

“That’s okay.” Sapnap gives him what he hopes is at least a little bit of a nice smile rather than the grimace he really wants to show. “Have fun.”

 

“We will.” Dream smiles. “So we’re okay? You’re not going to leave to play games right after sex?”

 

Sapnap tries to smile again. He thinks he fails. “I won’t.”

 

“Promise?”

 

“Promise.” Sapnap wouldn’t dare.

 

Dream doesn’t say anything as he leaves the room, so Sapnap doesn’t either.

 

He tries not to feel too lonely when he slips the headphones back on. Karl’s online. Thank fuck.

 

Sapnap (18:08): Yo u around?

 

He can’t help himself so he presses send. It had been ages since he talked to Karl, properly, not over Discord. They have both been busy, true, but Sapnap had pulled away from streaming and recording ever since Dream invited him to have sex with George and him for the first time. It feels like eons ago, and it hadn’t even been that long.

 

The circumstances have changed, though. George didn’t use to be so mean and Dream used to pay attention more. The check ins after sex became less frequent until they ceased entirely. Sapnap had wanted to stay, how could Dream not see that?

 

The bigger question is, why? Why had Dream wanted him to stay? For round two? Dream can sometimes come twice in a row, but Sapnap’s not sure if he could have satisfied that kind of craving, not with how exhausted his body is.

 

It doesn’t matter either way. No matter what he does, whether he stays or goes it always seems to be the wrong choice.

 

Did Dream catch onto his bloodshot eyes, the way he kept sniffling still? It’s likely he hadn’t, not if he has a date with George.

 

George.

 

His blessing. His curse.

 

He hates George more than anything. He’d kill for George.

 

Karl (18:15): Yeaaaa what’s up kitten?

 

Sapnap snorts at the stupid nickname.

 

Sapnap (18:15): Can you talk?

 

Sapnap doesn’t want to talk to Karl, certainly not about his sex life. But he at least wants to talk, to be there with someone if he can’t have George and Dream.

 

It seems like it doesn’t matter either way because Karl reads the message and doesn’t reply for a long time.

 

It’s just so unfair.

 

The feeling in his chest is ineffable. Like he’s drowning, like he’s lonely and burning, alive and falling, and falling and falling and it feels like he’s never going to stop.

 

Karl (18:25): Yea everything ok?

 

Maybe his previous message sounded too suspicious. But before he can think about dodging the question his Discord already displays and Incoming Call notification. The red phone tempts him.

 

He presses answer.

 

He has to clear his throat before he can speak. “Hello?”

 

“Hello? Everything okay?” Karl sounds concerned off the bat, but even digitally his voice is comforting, that of an old friend’s.

 

“Yeah, just wanted to talk.” Sapnap shrugs. “You want to play something?”

 

Karl doesn’t reply straight away. “I know you, Nick. You never say you want to talk unless something is really wrong. What’s up? You know you can always talk to me.”

 

That’s what Dream had said too, but somehow it doesn’t feel genuine. People tend to say that to feel better about themselves but as soon as Sapnap opens up they leave.

 

“Yeah, everything cool, just wanted to ask if you wanted to play.” Sapnap bites his lip in anticipation. Will Karl let this go? Or will he have to keep lying his way out of this?

 

He never should have messaged him in the first place.

 

“Sapnap.” Karl says slowly. “If something bad happened… is it your parents?”

 

“What?” Sapnap tries to chuckle his way out of this. “No way, I told you everything’s fine.”

 

“Horse apples. Something’s going on, I can tell. Is it George? Is it Dream?”

 

And how exactly can he tell Karl, one of his closest friends, that he’s in love with two men? How can he explain the hole in his heart is there because Dream was buried in his guts not even an hour ago?

 

“Karl…”

 

“Aha! What happened?” Karl knows him too well by now. They hadn’t spoken in so long and here he is, ready to listen. Sapnap does not deserve a friend like that.

 

“It’s just…” He can’t help it, the words drift out of him like water breaking through a dam. “George has been picking fights a lot.”

 

“What kind of fights?”

 

“Like…” How can he say what he wants to say without saying it. “he wouldn’t take the trash out the other day and started yelling. Or he got really upset over me borrowing his hoodie. He’s just been… mean.”

 

Karl seems to think for a second so Sapnap doesn’t say anything. “What does Dream do?”

 

“He usually takes George’s side because you know how George is. He won’t apologize for a thing in his life.”

 

Karl laughs. “That’s very true. Remember when he fucked up my motorcycle? I’m still waiting on my apology.”

 

“Well you won’t get it.” Sapnap grumbles.

 

“But I still know he’s sorry. Maybe you should talk to Dream about switching sides. We don’t need to drive George’s ego up further.”

 

“No, we really don’t.” Sapnap laughs and it’s quiet but it’s still something. Despite it all he feels a little better.

 

There’s a beat of silence when they just sit, enjoying each other’s presence even if it’s virtual.

 

“You know you can always stay with me for a bit? If Dream and George get too much?”

 

“Y-You sure?” Sapnap doesn’t mean to stutter. It happens more often these days.

 

“Dude. Of course,” Karl sounds like he’s smiling. “You can always call too. I know we haven’t had time to hang out recently but…”

 

No more words are needed. Sapnap thinks he understands.

 

“Wanna play something? Not Valorant.”

 

“Dude.” Sapnap whines. “Come on, two rounds, please?”

 

“Fuck you, no. I suck at Valorant I hate it. It’s the new Fortnite.”

 

“You’re just a hater who can’t appreciate fine gaming. You’ll hate anything you’re not good at.”

 

“So do you! Last time we played together you nearly punched Punz’s teeth out. And he hadn’t even won. Fuck off, no, we’re not playing anything competitive.”

 

Sapnap groans. “Fucking fine. You’re so annoying.”

 

Karl laughs. “You love me though.”

 

Yeah. He does.

 

There’s still a hole in his heart but for now, for one split second, Karl is enough.

 

Notes:

Thank you all so so much for all the love and support you've shown this work <3 I love and appreciate every kudos and every comment :)

Chapter 5: Un-cry These Tears

“You’re a fucking bitch.” George says calmly from the armchair, face turned towards the TV.

 

Sapnap is seething already.

 

Not only did Dream and George go for food the night before, but now, when it’s Sapnap’s turn to pick the movie, George is pulling his usual bullshit. And he’s fucking done.

 

Dream is sitting silently beside Sapnap, but he’s on his phone.

 

“You always do this.” Sapnap can’t help the whine in his voice. “It’s my turn, and I say we watch Spiderman. Don’t like it, then go.”

 

It’s reminiscent of the way George told him to leave yesterday, but despite the bite to his words, it doesn’t hit George the same as it did Sapnap.

 

“You’re a little bitch. We’re not watching Spiderman.” George replies in that same stoic voice as always.

 

Sapnap wants to launch himself at George. A very vivid vision of George’s body laying purpled on the ground flashes through his mind.

 

“You’re both idiots.” Dream pipes up. “If he doesn’t want to watch Spiderman, then pick something else.”

 

It doesn’t even come as much of a surprise that Dream is siding with George. Over a movie too?

 

Maybe it’s not worth picking a fight over.

 

“See? Dream just wants us all to get along, so stop being a baby.” George shoots him a grin that can only come across as evil. “You look like you’re going to cry.”

 

Sapnap has had enough. He can’t even be bothered to fight anymore, not like this, not when it’s two against one. He glances at Dream, but he’s still not looking up. The air in the room grows suffocating, in a way that has Sapnap almost clawing at his throat because he just can’t do this.

 

With no warning, he throws the blanket off his lap and onto Dream, ignoring the surprised ‘hey!’ and darts back up the stairs.

 

Why does George have to be so mean all the time? Why can’t he just watch his favourite movie in peace?

 

He throws the door to his room open with a bang and slams it shut behind him. Breaths are coming in too fast, chest rising and falling with no air actually being pushed down his windpipe.

 

It’s not even anything new. George just has a way of getting under his skin.

 

More so than pulling his own hair out, he does want to cry, but then George would win.

 

He gets startled out of his spiral with a knock on the door. “Sapnap? You okay?” It’s Dream.

 

What the hell does Dream want now?

 

Sapnap runs his shaky hands down his face and aggressively swipes under his eyes, rubbing his cheeks and slapping them a couple of times to bring himself back to reality. He runs a hand through his hair too, just to buy himself time, before he musters enough courage to actually open the door.

 

Dream is looking at him with a weird look in his eye.

 

Sapnap squirms.

 

“What the hell was that?” Dream asks and lets himself into Sapnap’s room. Sapnap can see him glance around it and tries not to blush too much.

 

The room’s a mess. Even though the black-out curtains are drawn, the clothes strewn around the room are clearly visible under the low glow of his nightlight. His sheets are unmade and unwashed and there are more empty Monster cans on the desk than he can count.

 

Dream, for his benefit, no doubt, doesn’t comment.

 

“What was what?” Sapnap asks, playing dumb. Dream looks at him seriously.

 

“That, just now. Why’d you run off like that?” Dream makes to sit on the bed but seems to think better of it. He opts for his gaming chair instead, spinning it to face Sapnap who’s still stood in the middle of the room.

 

Sapnap’s hands are shaking. He’s not sure he could sit down long enough to hold a conversation.

 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Dream has to go so he can go through this breakdown in peace. His breaths are still coming in too short.

 

“Sapnap.” Dream fixes him with a stern look. “You ran out of there like you were being chased. George and I haven’t even done-“

 

“Well, that’s the fucking problem, isn’t it?!” Sapnap runs both hands through his hair, pulling at the strands roughly and savours the burn. “You two never fucking do anything, do you?”

 

Dream looks stunned. Eyes wide, mouth slightly agape.

 

Sapnap is breathing harshly now, hands still in his hair and eyes wild. There’s a nervous tension in his chest, pressing down on him, hard.

 

“Sapnap… what-“

 

“You always take George’s side! And I get it, I fucking do, but I can’t fucking take it anymore!” It’s not meant to come out quite like this, but the message still stands.

 

Dream is still looking at him, dumbfounded, and Sapnap can’t take that either.

 

“George is a fucking asshole and I’m fucking done with him treating me like a piece of shit.” Sapnap spits, but he knows he doesn’t mean it.

Dream stands up slowly, as if he’s scared Sapnap will lash out or something, which he won’t, and gently detaches both his hands from his hair. He holds them in his, cradling them almost, and Sapnap can’t help the tears that break through.

 

It doesn’t even feel good to cry.

 

He sniffles pathetically when Dream gives his hands a squeeze. His touch burns. Like hot water does when your hands are frozen from the cold.

 

“Hey, you good, dude?” Dream asks. In hindsight he probably meant well. But Sapnap is not in the right frame of mind to read intentions.

 

“Do I fucking look like I’m okay? George has been saying shit to me for weeks, telling me to go and that- that I’m a dog and you’ve been agreeing with him and then you yelled at me yesterday, and I didn’t mean to leave you, but George-“

 

“Hey, hey.” Dream shushes him softly before he leads him over to the bed and sits them both down, hands still holding hands. “Chill, it’s okay.”

 

It’s not. He’s not some child that has to be calmed down.

 

His chest is rising and falling quicker than he’s breathing.

 

“You’re good, dude. You’re fine, just breathe for a sec, you’ll be fine.” Dream inhales an overexaggerated breath, then releases it through his mouth slowly, nodding at Sapnap to follow along. Reluctantly, he does, and hates that he feels less like he’s going to suffocate.

 

Dream squeezes his hands again and Sapnap never wants to let go. “See? It’s just breathing, you’re fine.”

 

Sapnap chuckles wetly through the tears. “Yeah.”

 

“We’re not trying to antagonize you.” Dream starts, voice quiet. “You know how George is. He’s an asshole sometimes, but he means well.”

 

It doesn’t feel like George means well. It feels like he always has to tiptoe around him, like he’s on wafer thin ice and no matter how hard he tries, George will yell at him anyway.

 

Sapnap has so many layers that you can peel away a few, and everyone would be so shocked that he’s baring his soul, but to him it’s nothing, because he knows he’s got twenty more layers to go.

 

“He made me suck his dick the other day, Dream.” Sapnap’s cheeks burn, but he needs to get this off his chest or he’ll have to forever hold his peace. It seems like for once Dream is willing to listen. “And then he just left to stream. It’s like no matter what I do, he’ll say shit to me again and I just… I can’t…”

 

“Yeah, but that’s streaming you know?” Dream runs his thumb over the back of his hand. “You can’t hold that against him. It’s literally our job, Sap.”

 

Yeah. Of course it is. Because streaming is more important than him, apparently.

 

“Yeah, okay.” He says, because what’s the point in arguing more? All Dream will do is defend George to the end.

 

“You have to stop riling him up too, okay?” Dream squeezes his hands one last time and lets go. Instantly his hands go cold where the contact stopped.

 

“I don’t rile him up.” Sapnap tries to protest, but Dream is already talking.

 

“Yeah, you do. And I know he does too, and I’ll talk to him, but you have to quit it, because I can’t stand the two of you sometimes.”

 

“George hates me.” It’s out of his mouth before he can think.

 

Sapnap has never said it out loud before, has never laid the facts out like this. But it must be the truth, and if it’s not, then George sure does a good job of making him feel like he does.

 

“Don’t be stupid.” Dream snorts and stands up, ready to leave. The window of intimacy, of closeness and tenderness, is shutting. “You’re being dramatic.”

 

Sapnap is barely registering the words, because Dream is halfway across the room. It’s been a long time since he talked to Dream about something less superficial than streaming or games, about something real and important. And he tried. Why won’t Dream just listen?

 

How can he tell him that he feels cold, that he wants him to stay, that he can’t eat or sleep or think anymore, because all they ever do is hurt him? How can he lay his heart bare when Dream is already out the door?

 

Sapnap’s body tips backwards and he falls on the bed, bouncing slightly as he does. Dream didn’t even stay for longer than two minutes, he hasn’t been in his room in weeks before that. It’s always Sapnap crawling back to them, it’s always him trying his best to squeeze himself into any space left between Dream and George, trying to shrink himself and cut parts of him off.

 

There’s nothing else left to cut out. He’s left a tear-stained idiot on the bed because he can’t even muster enough energy to sob. It would feel situation-appropriate to, but the cards aren’t in his favor anyway.

 

He feels empty. There’s nothing left in his cup to pour.

 

But even as the minutes pass, he has to come back to the living. A broken shell of a man, but living nonetheless.

Maybe Dream and George are back from their date and brought leftovers.

 

Slowly, fighting off the exhaustion/dehydration combo that’s making his head hurt, he makes his way downstairs, only slightly cringing at the pain between his legs. Dream did not go easy.

 

The lights in the living room are on, so they must be back.

 

Sapnap sticks his head inside first, scanning the room, and there they are, in the middle of the couch, right where Sapnap blew George a couple of days ago. Time seems to have stopped flowing normally as of late, so he’s not too sure how long has passed. He’s not even sure what day it is.

 

Dream’s back faces Sapnap, but that does little to obscure the image of George kissing Dream deeply, moaning into the kiss slightly.

 

It shouldn’t sting as much as it does. He’s fooled around with them separately as well, and it’s not like it’s news to him that they’re together. So it has been a date.

 

And he wasn’t invited.

 

George pulls on Dream’s hair, tipping his head back with a low moan and giving George much better access to the skin on his neck. Sapnap has a bird’s eye view of the hickey he starts sucking there.

 

He swallows. Would he be asked to leave if he made himself known? He doesn’t really want to be alone, he never does, but then George and Dream just went on a date.

 

George wouldn’t want him to.

 

He realizes too late that he’s just standing there, half hard in his underwear, watching two of his best friends make out. Later, he’ll blame it on the loneliness, on the tiredness and hunger, but when George opens his eyes and makes direct eye contact with him, Sapnap is rooted to the ground. His feet are made of cement, and all he can do is watch George smirk into Dream’s neck, and bite down harder.

 

Dream groans, and it goes straight to Sapnap’s dick.

 

George isn’t looking at him anymore, attention back on Dream, but he has seen Sapnap, right? He didn’t imagine it.

 

And he hasn’t been invited.

 

So, with a heavy heart, he turns away, trying to blink back the bitter sting of tears. Of course George wouldn’t want him here, he has Dream already.

 

He can’t even be asked to raid the fridge anymore, so he drags himself back to his room, cold and miserable.

 

Are Dream and George dating? Where does that leave him?

 

Why doesn’t George kiss him like that?

 

He feels like he’s wasting away in this room.

 

It’s midnight and he’s laying here.

 

Crying about nothing, but at the same time, it’s everything.

 

Nothing’s wrong, but nothing’s right, either.

 

His grief is horribly discreet, but as persistent and almost as silent as bleeding from an unstitched wound.

 

What has he done that’s so bad, that makes him so hard to love? George has been horrible to him and all Dream does is take his side.

 

Dream is just as bad as George, stringing him along like this, hurting him over and over again and all Sapnap can do is let him, because it’s better than being alone. It’s like he’s waiting for them to hurt him, and when they do, he feels a certain smugness at being right, at seeing just how deep the knife can go.

 

And then, he just feels pain.

Notes:

Sorry for the late update but I went on holiday :) And, as always, a special shout out to my sis for beta-reading <3

Chapter 6: Take Back That Sad Word Goodbye

Sapnap has been falling for weeks. At this point, he’s left wondering when he’ll actually hit rock bottom.

 

He comes close when George bumps into his shoulder on his way out of the kitchen.

 

“What the fuck?” Sapnap asks after him, because he nearly dropped the dirty plate he’s been carrying back to his room. It’s been there for days – the last meal he’d made – some cheesy toast.

 

It was slightly burnt.

 

“What?” George asks innocently, a small smile playing on his lips.

 

Sapnap doesn’t have the energy.

 

He hasn’t slept well and he’s tired and he can’t take George’s shit right now.

 

“You fucking know what.” Sapnap huffs under his breath and turns away, walking into the kitchen and setting his plate in the sink.

 

When he turns around, George is a few paces in front of him, nearly scaring him half to death. “Jesus- fuck, George.”

 

“Are you going to wash that?” George nods at the sink expectantly.

 

Sapnap’s head hurts. His limbs hurt, he’s cold, his head is cloudy and he cannot do this right now.

 

“Later.” He needs to lie down. If he doesn’t, he thinks he might faint.

 

“What the fuck, Sapnap, wash it now.” This is the hill George wants to die on? Both his arms are crossed, blocking the path out of the kitchen. If Sapnap tried, he could probably run around the kitchen island, if George won’t catch him first.

 

“Can you just let me go?” Sapnap’s too tired for this shit.

 

George smirks. “Why?”

 

“You fucking know why.”

 

“If you have something to say, then say it to my face instead of running up to your room like a coward. Come on,” George is baiting him. Sapnap grits his teeth. “Say it. Say it.”

 

“George…” Sapnap can’t. He’s not sure where to even begin.

 

“That’s what I fucking thought.” George says, voice even.

 

“George.” There’s a warning in his voice now. Sapnap knows himself, knows how easy it is to rile him up. George knows it too, judging by the glint in his eye. “Dream is sleeping in the living room, so just fuck off, alright?”

 

“Oh, so Dream’s asleep and you don’t want to play?” It comes out condescending, almost. “Scared because you don’t have big boy Dream to defend you? You’re pathetic, dog.”

 

The blood in Sapnap’s veins freezes over.

 

What?

 

He hadn’t heard dog outside of the bedroom before, not like this.

 

George is stood in front of him, panting, as if he just ran a marathon. His eyes are wide. “Sapnap-“

 

“Don’t.” Sapnap can’t look up from the floor. There’s a little cracked line in the marble, running along the cupboards and then disappearing under them. The floors are clean, the cleaner must have come sometime when he’s been sleeping.

 

What time is it? Must be afternoon by now, but it’s hard to tell because it’s raining outside.

 

Sapnap’s hands are shaking. If he looks up, he’s scared he’ll fall apart and it’s all uncomfortably reminiscent of being twelve and showing up back home with a D in math.

 

“Sapnap-“

 

Sapnap doesn’t let George finish. It’s his turn to collide his shoulder with George’s, although he doesn’t mean to. George lets him go, even when Sapnap grabs his wallet off the kitchen island and pockets it.

 

George isn’t meeting his eye, so Sapnap doesn’t try.

 

There’s a second of stillness, as if the world freezes and time stops completely, when it’s just George and Sapnap stood together, neither willing to speak.

 

“Sapnap, I’m so sorry-“

 

“Shove your I’m sorrys up your ass, George.” Sapnap spits and doesn’t bother looking back when he slams the back door to their garden with all his might.

 

He’s not dressed for the weather. He forgot his shoes, first of all, his Paw Patrol socks soaking through immediately when he steps off the stone steps. The grass is muddy, but it doesn’t matter. He’s only in a t-shirt and shorts, but he still doesn’t run.

 

Calmly, clinically, he unlocks his car.

 

There are no thoughts running through his head. He starts to back out of the driveway, one hand around the passenger’s head rest, and has to slam the brakes so hard that his head nearly smashes into the dashboard.

 

He rips the door open and turns around. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!”

 

Dream is standing there, barefoot, hoodie over his head, but it’s not helping much, because underneath, the mop of curly blond hair is plastered to his face. “Where are you going?” Dream yells over the pounding rain.

 

“I could have ran you over! Are you crazy?!” Sapnap still has one arm inside the car, ready to get in as soon as Dream moves.

 

“I can’t let you leave! Just come back inside, it’s raining.” Dream takes a step forward, but involuntarily Sapnap backs away with a flinch, back hitting the car door.

 

He shakes his head. He can’t go back in there. His heart is shattered in the kitchen and he’ll slice his foot open on the way in.

 

He can’t face George, not after what he said.

 

“Sapnap, please.” Dream never sounded so… desperate. “George didn’t mean it-“

 

“You’re still defending him!” Sapnap shakes his head, stray droplets landing all over. Not like it matters; the rain has already formed a small puddle on the driver’s seat. “He called me pathetic, Dream. I- I can’t do this.”

 

“Please, just come inside-“

 

“No! Don’t you fucking get it?” Sapnap wants to rip his heart out and just shove it at Dream and say look, look what you did, you broke me. “I can’t keep doing this. Not with you.”

 

“Sap, we love you-“

“Stop!” Sapnap can’t hear Dream begging, he can’t, because he’ll cave and then they will all be right back where they started. “Get out of the way, Dream.”

 

“No.” Dream shakes his head, voice choked with tears. “I’m not letting you go.”

 

“Dream-“

 

“No!” Dream yells, face twisted with tears. “You’re not leaving! We have to talk about this, please, I’m begging you, please, let’s just go inside and we’ll talk, you can’t leave like this!”

 

There’s a lump in his throat now. He has to go.

 

“Get out of the way or I’ll fucking run you over.” It’s an empty threat, but it’s worth a shot.

 

“Can we just talk about this? Please? We can just talk about this and we’ll be fine-“

 

“We won’t be fine! Stop pretending that everything’s okay when it’s not! You guys have been treating me like actual dog water for fucking weeks and I can’t keep playing your stupid sex toy! You two are worth each other.”

 

He doesn’t mean to be quite so harsh. Dream recoils, staring at Sapnap in shock.

 

Sapnap’s eyes are full of rain water and his heart is full of rocks.

 

“Pandas-“

 

“Get out of my fucking way Dream. I’m not fucking around, I will run you over.” He doesn’t wait for Dream to say anything else. It will just be more begging, more desperate attempts at pretending nothing is wrong.

 

“Where are you going?!” Dream takes a step forward again, close enough that Sapnap could reach out and touch him.

 

Dream can’t keep coddling George. Why is it Dream out here in the rain and George is inside? Why is it Dream chasing after him every time when it’s George saying these things?

 

“Karl’s. Don’t call me.”

 

It doesn’t matter because Dream moves to the side, dejected, so Sapnap gets back in the car and puts it in reverse. He doesn’t look at Dream as he passes him on the way to the gate, nor when he turns to drive away.

 

He doesn’t really think. Not about Dream’s tears mixing with the rain; not about George’s horrified face at his own words; not about the sex or about the apologies.

 

He’s fucking done.

 

He’s picking up the phone before he can second guess himself.

 

Karl picks up on the third ring. “Yellow.”

 

“Karl.” When did he start crying? He runs a shaky hand under his nose to wipe away the wetness there, eyes doing their best to focus on the blurry road. Is it blurry because of his tears or the rain? It’s hard to tell.

 

“Sapnap?” Karl’s alert on the other line. “What happened?”

 

“C-Can I stay at yours for a couple of days? I… I just… please?”

 

“Of course.” Karl’s voice is soft around the edges. “Is everything okay?”

 

“No.” Sapnap laughs wetly. “Not really.”

 

“You want to tell me about it?” Karl prods after a second of silence.

 

“Not really.” Sapnap grips the steering wheel tighter. He’s on the highway now. “You still in Florida?”

 

“Yeah, I’m with my mom, but I can get us a hotel room.”

 

“Karl-“

 

“Sapnap, I swear to God, if you protest, I’m flying back to Carolina.”

 

Sapnap would laugh, if he didn’t feel like crashing the car. “Okay. Send me the location.”

 

“Will do.”

 

“And Karl?” Sapnap bites his lip.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Having a friend like Karl helps. Breathing is a little easier.

 

“Thanks.”

 

He can’t see Karl, but he can imagine the smile on his face. “Always, dude. You’re my best friend.”

 

Sapnap drives for an hour and a half, clothes damp and uncomfortable as they stick to the skin. He drives for so long that his eyes start to get droopy. Just when he thinks he’ll have to pull over because he’s an actual hazard on the road, or crash the car, the GPS announces he’s arrived at his destination.

 

He pulls into the parking lot. It’s not raining on the other side of the coast, but the clouds don’t look promising. He’s forced to step onto the concrete in nothing but socks, so he keeps his head down as he makes his way inside.

 

Karl is waiting for him in the lobby, anxiously bouncing his knees.

 

It has been too long since he’s seen Karl in real life. He’s seen him over FaceTime and on stream, but somehow it’s like he’s seeing him for the first time again. He cut his hair. The fringe still falls over his eyes like before, but the back is shorter. It would be smooth, if you ran your hand over it, like the baby fur of a puppy’s.

 

Karl’s wearing GeorgeNotFound merch. It’s not really his fault, but the stark reminder of who he’s left behind is not helping.

 

Karl spots him then, throwing himself across the lobby and over a sofa to reach Sapnap.

 

Sapnap barely has time to take a breath before Karl is squeezing him tight and knocking the oxygen out of his lungs.

 

“Karl.” He rasps. “I can’t breathe.”

 

“I was so fucking worried.” Karl says, squeezing him a little tighter. The size difference means Sapnap is tucked under Karl’s chin, nose right in the crook of his neck. He smells the familiar cologne. “So fucking worried when you called.”

 

“Karl.” He tries again. “Karl, I can’t breathe.”

 

“Sorry.” Karl always hugs like he means it. “What happened? You’re soaked through.”

 

It hits him then, how cold he is, how quickly everything had happened. He hasn’t had time to think, let alone process his extremities. His nose is cold.

 

“Dude, where are your shoes? Holy shit, what happened, come on, let’s get you in the shower.” Karl grabs his hand. He doesn’t let go until they’re stood side by side in the empty elevator. He doesn’t asks, he never does. It’s never all or nothing with Karl, all cards on the table. Karl has always been a blanket on a chilly day, a hot mug of tea when your throat hurts.

 

He never presses.

 

Sapnap wishes he’d say something, because the silence stretches too close to awkwardness.

 

He clears his throat. “So, how’s your mom?”

 

Karl glances at him briefly. “She’s with my aunt, they’re still by the coast.”

 

Sapnap steps from foot to foot, wiggling his toes in the uncomfortable wet sock. “I’m sorry to cut your time with them short.”

 

“It’s more than okay. They’ve been driving me crazy. Besides, they can do without me for a night.”

 

“Thank you.” Sapnap whispers. “For coming to meet me.”

 

Karl squeezes his shoulder. The elevator dings and the doors open. “Of course. Come on, you have to get warmed up.”

 

Karl waits for him patiently when Sapnap steps into the clinical hotel shower. He hasn’t showered since Dream fucked him a couple of days ago.

 

Slowly, he starts to defrost under the warm water. The warmth prickles his skin where he has been freezing before, his toes and hands are the worst, but after a while it just feels comforting.

 

Until he remembers.

 

It’s surreal, standing in a shower that’s not his own. He’s been around only George and Dream for so long that he almost forgot the world exists outside of their fucked up relationship.

 

Does George regret what he said? Does Dream?

 

And the biggest question of all – will they wait for him?

 

Does Sapnap even want them to?

 

Every day he woke up and thought he couldn’t feel worse, and every day he hit a new rock bottom. Every day there’d be a rip in the fabric of their friendships, and every day they were driven further and further apart.

Sapnap doesn’t even know who George is.

 

Once upon a time he’d have said, without missing a beat, that George Davidson is a UK streamer, with below average PVP skills but a comedy talent to boot, with a handsome face and a tendency to scream a little too loud. George Davidson is Nick Armstrong’s best friend.

 

Now? George isn’t his lover, he’s definitely not his friend. Enemies with benefits sounds a little too bookish.

 

Maybe there’s no definition for two men who barely talk but have sex from time to time. Or, more accurately, George has sex with Sapnap.

 

Dream, on the other hand, is Sapnap’s longest friend. Sapnap’s known him for years, longer than he has anyone else. They grew up together, virtually, then in person, until Dream knew Sapnap better than Sapnap knew himself.

 

He’s not so sure that still holds up. Dream pushed him aside, ignored his pleas and told him he’s being dramatic. Is he? Walking out like this in the middle of a storm might not have been the most level-headed decision, but the thought of spending more time with them both when all the can think about is how much he doesn’t belong…

 

Dream is not really his friend either, is he?

 

There’s a knock on the door.

 

“Sap?” Karl opens the door.

 

“Uh… yeah?” How long had he been standing there, under the water, lost in his thoughts? The skin on his fingertips is wrinkly.

 

“I’m leaving some clothes by the sink.”

 

Sapnap can see Karl’s figure moving behind the shower curtain.

 

“Are you…” Karl seems to hesitate by the door. “Are you okay? You’ve been here a while.”

 

Is he? “Yeah. I’ll be out in a minute.”

 

Robotically, he dries himself with a stiff hotel towel and pulls on Karl’s pink sweater. It’s soft against his skin and it smells like Karl.

 

It’s hard to open the bathroom door. He’s scared of what he’ll find, what Karl will ask him. Like if he never says it out loud, he’ll never have to admit it happened.

 

That he was weak.

 

That they broke him.

 

Karl is sat on the bed and is scrolling through his phone. Judging by the rapidly changing sounds, it’s TikTok.

 

Karl spots him immediately. He sits up, patting the sheets next to him. “Feeling better?”

 

Slowly, Sapnap lowers himself onto the bed. “No.”

 

“You want anything? Tea? New shoes?” Karl asks in a light-hearted tone.

 

Sapnap breathes in deeply, then out in one big exhale. “No.”

 

He’s playing with his fingers in his lap. If he turned his head slightly to the side, he would have caught Karl’s sad smile.

 

With one arm, Karl tucks Sapnap into his side, into the warmth, despite Sapnap’s dripping wet hair that leaves a patch on his shoulder. And Sapnap could cry, he really could. Because Karl is warm and steady and smells like rain and sweat and cologne in a sort of endearing way and he spent so long alone in his room with his dying heart and his curdled soul and the fear that this wasn’t the worst yet to come.

 

But he doesn’t cry. He just lets Karl bring him in closer and lets his heartbeat dictate Sapnap’s own breathing.

 

And maybe it can get worse. The logical part of him knows that it probably will. But there’s a spark deep down in the recesses of his mind that thinks that maybe, just maybe, it can be better, too.

 

“You don’t have to talk,” Karl’s voice rumbles through his chest so hard Sapnap can feel it, “but you might feel better.”

 

There’s a pause when Sapnap collects himself. “Yeah.”

 

“Whatever happened-“

 

“If you want to know so badly, then just ask. Stop skirting around the subject.” Sapnap meets Karl’s eyes. “Ask.”

 

Karl bites his lip, but the curiosity is there, Sapnap can feel it. “What… What happened? Is it George?”

 

There it is.

 

Like it or not, he can’t run away forever.

 

“George called me a dog.” Sapnap says in one breath into Karl’s hoodie. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see George’s logo.

 

Karl seems to hesitate. “O-Okay.” It’s stretched, uncertain. “And you ran into the rain and drove halfway across the state because George called you names?”

 

“Outside of the bedroom, Karl.” Sapnap says patiently.

 

He can’t keep this from his friend. If he tries any longer, there’d be no other word for it but lies.

 

Karl did abandon his family to look after him, but Sapnap tries not to think about that part.

 

“Wait.” Karl pushes Sapnap away from him so he can look him in the eye. Sapnap can’t meet his gaze head on, not with the way he’s staring, mouth agape. “The bedroom? So you and George-”

 

“And Dream.” Sapnap  interrupts.

 

Karl’s eyes grow wider. “-And Dream… are what? In a relationship?”

 

“I wouldn’t call it a relationship.” Sapnap throws himself onto the bed, staring emptily at the ceiling. “Fuck buddies maybe.”

 

“Wha…” Karl’s eyes are firmly planted on the center of Sapnap’s face. He doesn’t like the attention, he’s not used to it.

 

The silence is not helping. “Can you say something?”

 

“Yeah, shit, sorry.” Karl shakes his head, as if clearing it of thoughts. “I just didn’t realize you were gay. I mean, I knew Dream was, and I had a suspicion about George, but you always talked about girls, so I just assumed-“

 

“This is really not the point right now.”

 

“Right, right.” Karl pulls both of his legs up so he can sit cross-legged on the bed, which also gives him the added benefit of staring at Sapnap. “Does George always call you that?”

 

Sapnap shrugs. “I mean, usually, yeah, but it’s just when we have sex, you know?”

 

“S-Sex.” Karl swallows. “Right.”

 

This is not how Sapnap planned on eventually telling Karl. “Karl.” He whines.

 

“Sorry, sorry.” Karl lifts both palm up in defence. “Do you like being called… that in the bedroom?”

 

And Sapnap thinks, really thinks. The truth is that no, not really, he always feels best when Dream calls him a good boy. He doesn’t particularly enjoy being degraded, but maybe it’s what George likes, so what does it matter.

 

And so he just shrugs. “I don’t know, I mean, George seems into it.”

 

“Nick…” Karl’s voice is uncharacteristically soft. “Just because George likes it doesn’t mean you have to. You don’t have to be called names during sex, not if it makes you run out of your house at…,” he glances at his phone, “nearly six in the evening.”

 

Huh. It is starting to darken outside, but it could just be the storm catching up to the west coast.

 

“Are you listening?” Karl pushes at Sapnap’s thigh. “You don’t have to let him hurt you.”

 

“He doesn’t hurt me.” But even as the words leave his mouth, he realizes just how untrue that statement is.

 

“Nick, come on.” Karl is speaking softly again, and Sapnap doesn’t like it, doesn’t like the pitying tone in his voice. “You have to tell him that you don’t like being called that.”

 

“I can’t”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because George hates me, okay? He doesn’t give two shits if I’m okay with being called names or not.” Sapnap has to shut his eyes to keep the tears in. He’s not going to cry, dammit, he’s not.

 

“Then why did you keep sleeping with him?”

 

“Because I love him, Karl.” Sapnap sits up, face to face with Karl, silent tears streaking down his face. “I love him and I’d rather have him like this than to not have him at all.”

 

Karl is silent, studying Sapnap’s face. He looks stricken, but that can’t be right. Why would he be so sad, so devasted at something Sapnap has just learned to live with?

 

It’s fine. Loving George is fine, he’s fine, everything’s fine.

 

“Stop looking at me like that.” Sapnap mutters, eyes dropping down to play with the hem of Karl’s jumper.

 

“Like what?”

 

“Like I matter.”

 

Karl envelops him in a hug, a real one this time, gently cradling the back of Sapnap’s head. He hasn’t been hugged in so long, not so gently and carefully, not for such a long time, and Karl doesn’t look like he’s planning on letting go.

 

Sapnap melts into him because the urge to hide his tears is stronger than his common sense.

 

“You matter.” Karl says sternly, like he’s convinced it’s the truth. Like there’s no room for doubt. “You are not hard to handle. You are not a burden, you are not a waste of space. I know, it hurts. Existing can be painful. Living with these thoughts can be draining. You need to remember that your mind is not speaking the truth, that George is not speaking the truth. You are lovable. You are amazing. You are magical. This darkness inside your mind does not erase the light you carry in your heart.”

 

Sapnap cries. His hands wind into the back of Karl’s jumper and hold on for dear life as his body, his cold, hungry body, shakes with the violence of his sadness.

 

And all Karl does is hold him close to his heart, forehead against forehead, chest to chest, body to mind and mind to body.

 

And Sapnap cries. And cries. And cries because he hasn’t been held in too long. Karl rocks them back and forth, like a baby being soothed, and it would be embarrassing if Sapnap wasn’t breaking in his arms.

 

“Hey, it’s okay.” Karl is whispering in his ear. “You’re okay, you can cry, it’s okay.”

 

It’s not okay. Nothing will ever be okay.

 

“Did Dream call you names too?” Karl asks when Sapnap is spent enough for his wails to die down.

 

Sapnap inhales shakily and runs a hand under his nose. His head is tucked away into the crook of Karl’s neck now, and Sapnap is grateful he doesn’t have Karl’s big eyes staring at him, through him, deep, deep down into the very dirt of his disfigured soul.

 

His voice is unsteady and broken when he speaks. “No.”

 

“But did he ever comfort you? Take care of you? Hold you?” Karl is not letting this go, is he.

 

One last deep inhale, and then everything will be on the table. “No.”

 

Karl sucks in a sharp breath and curses under his nose. Sapnap makes to pull away, to ask why, but Karl’s arms are strong around him, keeping him warm and close.

 

“How did this even happen? How did you guys even start sleeping together when all I’m hearing is how inexperienced those two bastards are.”

 

Sapnap has to think back through the heavy fog in his mind, but the memory is fresh, unlikely to be forgotten.

 

***

 

Dream (23:43): Come to my room.

 

Sapnap stares at the message with bleary eyes. He’s been playing Valorant for too long, but he just beat his high score and he’s on a roll. He has to capitalize on the success, although if he gets put into a team with fucking noobs again then he’s just as likely to rage quit.

 

Maybe the good pizza place around the corner is still open, he’s hungry. Do they deliver after midnight? Surely, this is Florida, the good take-out is half the reason why he moved here.

 

Dream (23:48): Now.

 

What the hell does he want? Sapnap is literally two doors down and having the run of his fucking life.

 

Nick (23:48): You come to my room if you want something.

 

Dream (23:50): No

 

Sapnap frowns. This feels a bit unfair, and he’s just been matched into a new room, he can’t quit now. One of the players has a good ranking so this is looking very promising.

 

Sapnap (23:50): Busy

 

Dream (23:51): Please?

 

Sapnap groans loudly in frustration. This man will the death of him.

 

He stands up in one fast motion, dark spots suddenly in his vision as he goes light headed from the dehydration. And staring at his computer for hours on end. And the hunger, which reminds him he really needs a pizza. Oh, or a burger. Or Chick-fil-A, he loves Chick-fil-A.

 

Damn Dream and his incessant personality. He’s out the door in seconds and doesn’t bother knocking on Dream’s. Instead, he lets himself in and raises an eyebrow at Dream sitting pin straight by his desk and George lounging on Dream’s bed, an easy smile on his lips.

 

“Hey, you came.” Dream says excitedly, too excitedly, nervously almost. There’s a weird energy in the room. Something feels off.

 

“Yeah.” Sapnap says slowly, evaluating his options carefully. “You asked me to.”

 

“Ah, yes!” Dream sits up a little in the gaming chair, his big hands resting on his knees. He looks like a school kid getting ready to answer an exam question.

 

It would be funny if it didn’t make Sapnap’s heart race.

 

“So…? What do you want?” Sapnap is looking between a very nervous Dream and a relaxed George and cannot come up with a single explanation as to why he was summoned.

 

“Well…” Dream starts then looks at George pleadingly, who only shrugs and smiles at Sapnap like he knows something he doesn’t. Which he does.

 

“Guys come on, I was in the middle of the game of my life here. Do you realize I’m dropping rankings by the second?” He pauses to look at George, then at Dream. When neither of them say anything, he groans. This is getting ridiculous now. “Come on! What the fuck do you want?”

 

“We want to have sex.” Dream is looking at Sapnap, entirely seriously.

 

Sapnap looks between George and Dream, expecting the Ha! You just got pranked! But it never comes. George winks at him playfully.

 

“With you.” Dream adds.

 

Are they live?

 

“Is this a joke? What the fuck is wrong with you.” He tries to laugh to ease the tension but it’s strained, and it fades out into the room awkwardly.

 

“No.” George says.

 

Sapnap wouldn’t trust a thing coming out of George’s mouth anyway, not with how he likes to joke around. But there’s no glint in his eye, no tilting corners of his mouth to tip Sapnap off to the joke.

 

“Right.” Sapnap says eventually, if only to break the silence.

 

Dream wipes his hands on his shorts and smiles nervously. “We talked, and… we think we should let you know that for the past couple of weeks George and I have been…”

 

“Having sex.” George finishes for him.

 

“George!” Dream whips his head to the side. “Be a little more sensitive!”

 

“Why? Look at him, he’s not running away screaming, he’s fine.” George shrugs. “Besides, if he never heard how loud you are when you have a dick in your ass, it’s really on him.”

 

Sapnap’s cheeks burn a violent shade of red. He usually wears headphones in his room, which is how he probably missed… That is definitely besides the point.

 

If this is an elaborate way to fuck with him, it is definitely not funny.

 

“George, oh my god.” Dream hides his face between two hands out of embarrassment.

 

Sapnap is rooted to the floor, stood right in the middle of Dream’s bedroom, between Dream and George, confused as hell.

 

“Don’t be shy now.” George says, a smile so wide on his face it can only be described as shit-eating.

 

“So,” Dream’s face is still bright red when he drops his hands and meets Sapnap’s wide eyes, “The question still stands. Do you want to have sex with us?”

 

Sapnap cannot wrap his head around what the actual fuck is going on right now. “Like… both of you?”

 

Dream raises an eyebrow. “Yeah.”

 

“At the same time?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

This is beyond what Sapnap has ever thought about. Sure, he’s noticed that both Dream and George are attractive, and being in such close quarters with each other means he’s seen them both up close and spent ridiculous amounts of time together, but this?

 

All three of them… in bed… together.

 

The image flashes in his mind before he can get a hold of himself and his underwear tightens uncomfortably.

 

“So?” Dream prods. “You in?”

 

“Are you serious?” He asks one more time because he has to be sure.

 

“Deadass.” George confirms from the bed and that’s all the invitation Sapnap needs to nod his head.

 

Even if he wasn’t into them, the blinding smile Dream rewards him with would have been worth it.

 

***

 

It’s raining outside, the storm having caught up to Sapnap. It’s still only a drizzle, but judging by the impending clouds it will start pissing it down any second.

 

Sapnap has always liked the rain. There’s something about the way the white noise comforts him, wraps around him and makes him feel less like a dirty sock under the bed.

 

There’s something about the way you can never tell if someone’s crying when it’s raining, when the streets are empty and sidewalks are full of umbrellas.

 

Sapnap tries not to think about Dream’s face, how red his nose was from the cold, how his eyes were blood-shot and leaking tears and he could tell, even in the rain.

 

The rain slowly, as always, washes away all the pain of yesterday.

 

Sapnap is curled up on the bed with his head on Karl’s lap, the pair sat staring out the window in silence. Karl has draped a blanket over his body when he started shivering, from the remnants of sobs or the cold, it was hard to tell.

 

One of Karl’s hands is curled in Sapnap’s still slightly damp curls, untangling them gently. The only sound in the room is the pitter patter of the rain splashing against the glass. Until Karl breaks it.

 

“Are you in love with Dream, too?” It’s strange to hear a voice talk, after so many minutes of silence. He hasn’t even said anything after Sapnap finished crying, he just sat there, holding him together.

 

Sapnap sighs. “Yeah.”

 

“But do they love you?” Karl asks so quietly Sapnap almost misses it.

 

Honestly? They don’t. It hurts like hell when you know that you need to let go of someone but you can’t, because you’re still waiting for the impossible to happen.

 

We love you. Dream had cried after him, before he drove off. All his life he’s been waiting for someone to chase after him when he’s leaving, to care enough to beg for him to stay.

 

Not like this.

 

“No.” He answers just as quietly. “George got mean after our first time, and I tried to talk to Dream, but… He didn’t listen. Maybe if I had been more forthcoming with my hurt, if I told them that-“

 

“This is not on you.” Karl sounds angry now, the hand in Sapnap’s hair going still. “You cannot blame yourself for the hell they put you through, not when they were right there and they could have saved you.”

 

Sapnap has been drowning for so long. And Dream stood there, three feet away screaming learn how to swim.

 

Sometimes he thinks that if nobody spoke to him, he’d never speak again.

 

He explained his hurt and still got hurt. So he learned to stop talking. Trained, obedient. A fish learning to swim away from poisoned water.

 

“But you still should have told them. You have to stand up for yourself, you cannot let them keep hurting you like this.” Karl resumes the gentle movements in his hair. Sapnap closes his eyes.

 

“I know.”

 

“Are you going to go back? Talk it out?”

 

Sapnap sighs. “I don’t know. I love them, Karl.”

 

Karl’s voice is almost too quiet to catch. “Is it love if it hurts like this?”

 

“Only love could hurt like this.” Sapnap is holding his heart. It’s very small, he realizes. He’s never wanted palaces and diamonds, just someone to hold.

 

How do you get over someone who was never yours? Who do you blame when you’ve broken your own heart?

 

“You can sleep.” Karl says soothingly. “I’m here, I’ll stay.”

 

All Sapnap has ever wanted to hear were those few words; I’ll stay.

 

It’s not enough when he drifts off to sleep, exhausted, cheeks red and tear-stained, with Karl above him doing his best to keep his own tears at bay.

 

His best friend, broken, shattered in his arms, and it feels like nothing can glue him back together than the very hands that broke him.

 

They don’t deserve him.

 

Karl holds his best friend closer and tries to remember that Dream and George are human.

Notes:

I cannot live without my soul! If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years as I could in a day. I have not broken your heart - you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine.

- Emily Brontë, Wuthering Heights, 1847

Chapter 7: Don't Leave Me Here With These Tears

Notes:

Enjoy my goblins, enjoy <3

Sapnap stays with Karl for a couple of days. The first two are filled with tears. Sapnap doesn’t get out of bed, even when Karl brings him food or begs him to eat. Karl is there for a lot of it too. He stays there for hours on end, holding Sapnap as he cries and cries, an outlet for his pain for the first time in weeks. Sometimes he leaves for a couple of hours. Sapnap doesn’t ask where he goes.

 

His phone rings a lot. It’s mostly Dream, but there are a few voicemails from George. He deletes them before the temptation to listen to them is too strong.

 

Whatever they want doesn’t matter. It’s too late now.

 

The third day is the first day since he arrived at the hotel that he showers. He flips the tap all the way to freezing cold and forces himself to stand there, to feel the burning pain in hopes that it will distract him from the pain in his heart.

 

It doesn’t.

 

When he’s out of the bathroom Karl is just hanging up his phone. Sapnap had to borrow another one of Karl’s sweaters. It’s slightly too large on him, the sleeves covering his hands, as he runs a hand down his face to wipe away at any remaining droplets.

 

His hands are shaking from the cold.

 

“Everything okay?” Sapnap asks uncertainly.

 

“Yeah.” Karl drops the phone and watches it bounce on the bed they have been sharing. It helped to have someone else’s heat beside him, someone else to hold him through the night, though Sapnap always wakes up in the bed alone. Karl is always up before him. “It’s my aunt. My mom wants me on the flight back with them.”

 

“…Oh.”

 

“I’m really sorry, Sap.” Karl smiles like he means it. “But you could come back with me to Carolina if you want? We could stay at mine, watch movies…?”

 

It’s tempting. To leave everything behind and become himself again.

 

“I can’t.” Sapnap says gently. “I need to get back anyway, they’re probably worried.”

 

“So?” Karl is up in an instant, gathering Sapnap’s shaking hands in his. “They treated you like crap and you want to go back?”

 

“I have to, Karl.” He can’t keep running forever.

 

“You don’t-”

 

“I do.” Sapnap squeezes back, looking up earnestly at Karl’s face. He’s missed him, truly. He’s been lonely lately. “I just… I don’t know if I’m ready.”

 

“Then come stay with me.” Karl pleads. “For a couple more days, get your head on straight, we can talk shit about them some more?”

 

“They’re your friends too.” Sapnap reminds him, a half smile on his face. It’s easy to smile around Karl.

 

And Karl always smiles back. “Not if they’re being idiots.”

 

There’s a beat of silence.

 

“Can I ask you something?” Karl breaks it first. “Why did you stay there for so long if they hurt you like this?”

 

There’s no right answer.

 

I love them is too shallow. I hate myself is too deep.

 

“I was never good at the emotional stuff,” He says instead, “Except anger. Anger, I’m good at.”

 

He thinks back to all the times George would rile him up. He’s not sure how he will face them after everything that’s happened.

 

What will George say? There’s a part of Sapnap that wonders if his absence has done any lasting damage to George. If there might be a possibility that he too experienced long restless nights at the thought of Sapnap. If his heart is broken in the same place as Sapnap’s. Sapnap wants to know if he’s the only one hurting. Whether he actually meant something to him.

 

“They don’t deserve you.” Karl says, voice as cool as stone. “They fucked it up and you should never forgive them.”

 

Sapnap knows. He knows, and it hurts.

 

“I’m scared.” He admits quietly. “To see them. I’m scared they won’t understand. I’m scared that if I let my guard down for even a second, the world is gonna come crashing down, and I don’t know if I could survive that.”

 

Karl holds his hands like they’re precious, like they’re something more than just hands. “You can survive anything. You don’t have to go back, Sap, you don’t owe them anything-“

 

“I owe it to myself.” Sapnap looks up at Karl then, eyes filling with tears despite how many he has already cried. “I… I need to see them, I need to know…”

 

“I know.” Karl says sadly. “But the offer still stands-”

 

Sapnap smiles, but it’s watery.

 

“-The second they say shit to you-“ Karl shakes Sapnap’s hands to get his message across, “You are on the first flight to Carolina, okay?”

 

Sapnap, if anything, has to appreciate Karl’s friendship. He doesn’t really deserve it, but warmth spreads through his bones nonetheless.

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay.” Karl dops his hands, only to pick up his phone again. “I’ll walk you down, yeah?”

 

“Yeah, thanks.”

 

They walk downstairs together, and for the first time in three days Sapnap sees the sky. It’s still uncharacteristically cloudy for Florida, but at least it’s not actively raining.

 

“How long’s the drive?” Karl asks when they reach Sapnap’s car.

 

“Like an hour and a half. Other side of the coast.”

 

“That’s not so bad.”

 

“It’s not the drive I’m afraid of.”

 

“Then don’t go.” Karl stands in front of the driver’s door, determined. “Don’t go back to them.”

 

Sapnap can’t do this.

 

“Karl-“

 

“No! You’re my best friend, dude, I’m not going to stand here and watch you kill yourself!”

 

“I’m not going back to them, okay?” Sapnap isn’t sure if he’s yelling. If he is, then the white noise in his head is drowning it out. “I’m not just going to forgive them like that. I need… an explanation, I think. Some kind of closure, at least.”

 

Karl doesn’t look happy, but at least moves away from the door, allowing Sapnap to open it and slide inside.

 

The first rain drops start falling.

 

Karl leans in through the open window, propping his head up with his hands. “Good. If you need me to come kill them, just let me know.”

 

Sapnap smiles. “I will.”

 

Driving back has him on edge. Not only is he tired and cold, Karl’s sweater not doing much to drive away the creeping anxiety in his veins, but on top of that he’s overthinking.

 

Should he call them and let them know he’s coming back?

 

He kind of hopes they won’t be home, or at least will be in their rooms so he won’t have to talk to them yet.

 

Maybe ever.

 

When he stands in front of his own front door he kind of wishes he’d gone with Karl.

 

His hands are shaking. So are his knees, bare in the cold, Karl’s shorts not really weather appropriate.

 

The front door swings open before he can psych himself up to open it.

 

Dream looks horrible.

 

His hair is dirty, the grease making it naturally slick back and Sapnap swears he’s wearing the same hoodie that he wore when Sapnap left.

 

There are dark circles under his eyes, too, like he hasn’t slept. Maybe he was editing.

 

Seeing him like this, in front of him, real and there has something uneasy settling in his stomach.

 

He’s pictured this moment from all angles. How he’d punch Dream in the face, how they’d hug, how Dream would yell at him for leaving.

 

He’s pictured George telling him to get out, to stay.

 

He’s pictured himself, forgiving them a million times over, packing a suitcase and moving out.

 

But he has not pictured this.

 

Dream is staring at him, bloodshot eyes wide and unblinking.

 

Sapnap steps from foot to foot just to do something.

 

“Hey.” He says awkwardly and then promptly has the air knocked from his lungs at the way Dream launches himself at Sapnap with full force, nearly sending both of them toppling over. Sapnap wants to exclaim in surprise but can’t when Dream smashes his lips to his in a closed mouth kiss.

 

It would have been sweet if Sapnap didn’t feel like throwing up from all the emotions in his body and the fact that Dream nearly took out two of his front teeth.

 

“I am so sorry.” Dream whispers against Sapnap’s lips, figure bent over to press them forehead to forehead, eyes closed. Both of his cold hands cup either side of Sapnap’s face. They’re shaking.

 

Sapnap nearly forgives him because seeing Dream like this is breaking his heart.

 

There’s still a small ball of anger in his stomach though, when he feels Dream’s breath on his face.

 

“What are you sorry for, Dream?”

 

“For everything.” Dream gasps sharply, as if he can’t breathe. “For everything, I am so sorry.”

 

“Do you know what you are sorry for? Or are you apologizing because I left?” Sapnap doesn’t mean to sound so cold.

 

Against his face Dream’s hands twitch, then fall away completely.

 

Dream is a shadow of a man in front of him. He looks miserable.

 

Good.

 

Feel the pain you caused me.

 

“I know what we did… I know there’s no excuse-“

 

“You’re right.” Sapnap cuts him off. Behind him thunder rumbles in the sky. “You did what you did. I felt how I felt. Now we are where we are. It is what it is.”

 

“Sap…”

 

“I know you didn’t mean to be cruel.” Sapnap, despite himself, smiles sadly. “But that does not mean you were kind either.”

 

“Sapnap, please-“

 

“You’re still asking things from me? After giving you the best I had, tell me what there is left to give after that.”

 

“I just… George told me what he said, but you running out like that… Sapnap, I was so fucking worried. I know you don’t want to talk about this, I know we fucked up but just… just tell me what can I do?”

 

“Dream.” Sapnap sighs. Dream’s gaze is piercing, so he doesn’t dare to look up from his feet, clad in the sliders Karl lent him. “You never listened to me. I… I love you. I can’t stop no matter how many times you left and how many nights I spent alone. And I thought I can’t let you know because you’d hate me but I can’t keep holding onto that. I love you, you and George, even if you do not feel the same.”

 

He’s still not looking up at Dream, but he can feel the heaviness of his gaze.

 

“Sap…”

 

“You’re my family,” Now that he’s started he can’t seem to stop. Words tumble out of his mouth as if he’s about to run out of breath to say them. “But you’re terrible, you’re both terrible.”

 

Sapnap can’t pinpoint the moment that tears started welling in his eyes, but when he blinks, they fall, cold and salty against his flushed skin.

 

It’s starting to get dark outside. A cold breeze ruffles Sapnap’s hair and has Dream’s hood slip down, exposing his tear-stained face. He’s crying, silently, but with his whole body.

 

“Why didn’t you… you should have said.”

 

“What would I have said?” Sapnap asks sadly. “You weren’t ready to hear it. You and George… I want to understand that you two have this… this need to be around each other-“

 

“Sap-“

 

“But I could fill oceans with what I feel for you.”

 

Dream hurriedly takes a step towards Sapnap, but the other backs away down the stone steps on the porch.

 

“Me and George?”

 

“And for a long time I blamed myself.” Sapnap continues as if he didn’t heard. “I wanted it to be my fault so I could fix it. But Dream,” He finally meets Dream’s sad eyes and watches his lower lip wobble.  “I’m too tired to do this. I can’t do this anymore, not with  you. I… I’m sorry, I just need some time.”

 

Dream looks like he wants to argue. For a second Sapnap thinks he might scream, or fall to his knees, or combust with how much he’s shaking, but eventually he hangs his head. “Okay. But, Sap? I… for what it’s worth, even if it’s not worth anything, I… I love you too. I have for a really long time and… everything I did, I did because I thought that’s what you wanted. There’s no excuse, I’m not trying to make excuses, but you have to believe me. If you just give me a chance, one chance, please, and we can talk and we can fix this.”

 

Sapnap stares at Dream for a long time.

 

He wanted to hear those words for months. For months, he suffered alone.

 

He’s been in love with Dream for longer than he can remember, before they even met each other, maybe. Some people are destined for love, soulmates, if you will.

 

Sapnap had once looked into Dream’s eyes and found his favorite color.

 

“You’re right.” He says eventually. “It’s not worth anything.”

 

Dream is silent, eyes shut tightly to hold in the tears. Sapnap has nothing left to say, so he steps around Dream into the cold house.

 

George cannot be found anywhere, so he makes straight for his room. It’s just as he left it – a little messy – but something still feels different.

 

He feels different, as if the Sapnap that left is not the same one that came back.

 

All he can hope for is that the two others in the house leave him alone for the time being until he decides what to do with them.

 

He can’t forgive them just like that, not after everything that’s happened. Karl started to mend the broken pieces of his heart and he wants to be held and kissed and his heart is very small and he doesn’t want it to break.

 

But he can’t leave either. Despite it all Dream is still his best friend, still the closest he’s ever come to love. And it’s not like they knew they were hurting him, not until he finally spoke up.

 

He groans.

 

The bed looks too inviting to pass up so he collapses in it, hugging Karl’s sweater closer to his body.

 

He spends the evening like this, drifting in and out of restless sleep. The truth is he doesn’t really want to leave his room in fear of running into Dream. Or worse – George. They leave him alone, which is a bonus. No one comes knocking, so Dream must have told George to give him space.

 

Either that or George doesn’t care. It’s not a nice thought, that just behind this one wall George is sat there, perfectly content to go about his life, while Sapnap is barely clinging to his sanity.

 

But George did try to call him these last few days. He’s left messages.

 

Sapnap deleted them all, but now he kind of wishes he hasn’t. He’s not ready to talk to him, not yet, but the curiosity is still there.

 

He loses his train of thought when his PC, still not turned off and definitely running up the electric bill, pings with a Discord message.

 

Blearily Sapnap forces his body to move, blinking dark spots out of his eyes.

 

“Hey!” Dream’s voice from behind his closed door startles him so much he nearly has a heart attack. “I… I thought I’d leave you some pizza because… well, you probably don’t want to come eat with us. I mean, if you do, that’d be great! But if you don’t, I left you your favourite so…”

 

“Dream?” Sapnap’s voice is shaky.

 

“Yeah?” Comes the hopeful reply.

 

“Thanks.”

 

After a second Dream’s footsteps indicate he’s gone. He releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

 

There’s a whole pizza box, as promised, so he munches on a slice as he slides into his chair. Discord is the first screen to pop up when he jerks the mouse and he stares at the monitor.

 

George (19:07): Hey

 

It’s… it’s just a hey and yet that one simple hey has his heart beating too fast. His palms are sweaty when he opens the chat.

 

George is typing…

 

What’s taking him so long? He types fast, he’s a gamer, he should have thought about the content of the message before he hit send.

 

George (21:10): I know you’re back but I just wanna say that I’ll stay out of your way.

 

What?

 

So he doesn’t want to see Sapnap either, that much is clear. It shouldn’t sting as much as it does.

 

Before he can help himself he starts typing.

 

Sapnap (21:10): Ok

 

He thinks about writing more. What would he say? How much George hurt him and broke him and the fact that he’s not even trying is hurting him all the more?

 

The little bubble by his message indicates that George has read it. There are no more typing bubbles, but that shouldn’t be too surprising.

 

The pizza in his hand suddenly does not taste as good. What was even the point of sending that message? To hurt him further, to rub it in his face that Sapnap can freely walk around the house only thanks to George’s graciousness.

 

All the thinking is making his head hurt. He wonders briefly if his college contact would come and drop off some weed, but it’s kind of late and he knows he shouldn’t make important life decisions after 9pm. Besides, weed would just cloud his judgement and the last thing he needs right now is to see George, which would be inevitable if he smoked.

 

This is all moot because it’s not like his buddy is gonna commit to an hour long drive across Florida just to give him weed.

 

So all he can do is lie in his room, alone by choice this time, and wonder when it all went to shit. He never should have slept with them, never should have risked his heart like that. And the sad thing is, if he could turn back time and go back to those early spring days, he would still say a breathless yes if Dream so much as smiled at him.

 

Because he loves them so much it hurts. It has to be love, right?

 

It’s pathetic, how much he still hopes he can work things out with them, and it will be them – Dream and George and Sapnap – in the end.

 

Or perhaps they are not destined for each other. Perhaps one day they will meet again, as characters in a different story. Maybe they will share a lifetime then.

 

Perhaps in some other life they are standing side by side and laughing at the thought that in some other life they are apart.

 

Sapnap falls asleep, wrapped in Karl’s sweater, dreaming about green and brown eyes, like a beautiful oak tree in the height of the fast approaching summer.

Chapter 8: Life is so Cruel Without You Here Beside Me

Sapnap spends exactly two nights like this, fed only by Dream and accessing the bathroom by listening carefully for the slightest movement in George’s room. He doesn’t see either of them during those days.

 

He thinks a lot. About them, about Karl, about his parents… He plays Valorant, suffers wins and losses, and starts binging Supernatural because he missed that craze the first time it went around.

 

He bumps into Dream on the third morning. Clouds still hang high in the sky, casting Florida in shade and cold. Every now and then rain falls, splattering against the windows and drowning out the dull ache in his heart, at least a little.

 

Dream is carrying a steaming mug of something that turns out to be coffee when Sapnap stands on the tips of his toes to steal a glance. He looks horrible; hair greasy, clothes rumpled with a very big red stain on the front of his blue t-shirt.

 

“You shouldn’t drink coffee.” Sapnap says, stopping Dream in his tracks. The man has been so lost in thought he was about to pour the hot liquid all over Sapnap. He looks up at him, because Sapnap is standing at the top of the stairs, blocking the way.

 

Dream, despite it all, despite the pain his eyes and the bags under them and the very evident stubble lining his chin and cheeks, smiles. It’s a little empty, but it’s a start. “Yeah, but I’m editing.”

 

“So? You know it only makes you more tired, in the long run. If you’re gonna edit then take a nap, it’s still early.” Sapnap says casually, but his heart is beating too fast. It has been a while since they talked like this, civil and nice. It feels like old times.

 

“I… haven’t really been able to sleep recently.” Dream confesses, smile dropping a little. A shadow passes over his features. “At least not well.”

 

Sapnap knows what that shadow means. Karl told him it’s not his fault, but seeing Dream like this, mostly collateral damage, he feels for the other man.

 

He doesn’t let himself overthink when he asks, “Do you want me to keep you company? While you nap?”

 

Dream looks taken aback, but there’s a little hope shining in his eyes. Slowly, shyly, almost, he nods, so Sapnap backtracks up the stairs and makes for Dream’s room with only a little hesitation.

 

Him and Dream stand in the middle of the room, stiffly, at first, before Dream lowers himself onto the bed slowly, eyes never leaving Sapnap’s as if asking permission.

 

Sapnap doesn’t say anything as he lays down beside his childhood friend, finally breaking eye contact and being able to breathe.

 

“Does George not stay with you while you sleep?” Sapnap asks out of nowhere. It slipped out, but he can’t contain the question anymore, not when he knows George is right there and yet so fucking far he might as well be in a different universe.

 

He can feel Dream turn next to him so that he’s laying on his side, facing Sapnap. “No.” He says heavily. “We haven’t really talked since you left. After he told me what happened between you… I just got so angry at what he said to you that I… We haven’t spoken much. I saw him, though, outside your room a couple of times. He was sending you messages, I think, or he might have been talking to himself, who knows. He… he’s not doing too well, after everything.”

 

Sapnap inhales deeply, feels his lungs fill to the brim with oxygen until he feels like he might explode, then lets all the air out, slowly, until he has nothing left to exhale.

 

It does little to cleanse his mind.

 

“What was George saying?” He asks, trying his best to hide the curiosity in his words.

 

“You didn’t listen to them?”

 

“No.”

 

Dream is silent for a few seconds, then, quietly, says, “Then I am sorry but it’s not my story to tell. Just know that he’s sorry. I don’t think he meant for it to get this far. Neither did I, you know. I… I should have realized what we were doing to you.”

 

“Yeah.” Sapnap stares at Dream’s ceiling with surprising interest. “You should have.”

 

“I won’t apologize again because I don’t think you want to hear it.” Dream sounds sad, melancholic almost, with his eyes still firmly fixed on the side of Sapnap’s head. “But I am sorry. When you left… I thought we lost you. I could never forgive myself if you left, although I wouldn’t blame you.”

 

“I thought about it.” Sapnap says honestly. “I should have. After everything…”

 

“You can tell me.” Dream says quickly. “What we did, if you want to.”

 

Sapnap is quiet for a little too long. He can feel Dream’s limbs shuffle on the bed, nervous. “Would it help to talk about the past?”

 

“I think so,” Dream whispers, “So I can know how I hurt you and never make that mistake again.”

 

Sapnap wants to believe that Dream would want to put in that much effort.

 

 “It started with George picking fights with me all the time.” He starts to speak and for once, Dream listens. “I mean, we fight all the time so at first I thought he might have just been in a bad mood sometimes, or maybe he had a bad day and just needed to take it out on someone. You and George invited me into your bed and… I was happy, at first. I have been in love with both of you and for once I thought I stood a chance. But you and George… I don’t know if you’re dating, or what-“

 

“We’re not.” Dream interrupts. “I mean, not really.”

 

“What does not really mean, Dream? Because if you are dating just tell me, I can’t… can’t do this anymore.”

 

Dream stutters a little as he speaks, maybe because he’s nervous, or he doesn’t really know the answers himself. “George and I… we hadn’t been hooking up for long before we invited you, but I can tell you that we both wanted you there. It had been my idea, sure, I mean I had a little crush on you, but George easily agreed. We seemed closer, I think, because we had been with each other previously, just us, and you were thrown in the deep end. You had to figure it all out yourself, and I should have realized that maybe we had to talk about it before we started it all.”

 

“Maybe.” Sapnap muses. “Or maybe it wouldn’t have helped at all. You and George have something that I can’t compare to. You’d kiss and spend nights together,” there’s a ball in his throat of choked tears now, “and I never felt… never felt like you wanted me there.”

 

When Dream sniffles, Sapnap comes to a startling realization that he’s crying too. He doesn’t dare to tear his eyes away from the ceiling.

 

“Of course we wanted you there.” His words are choked up.

 

“George told me to leave. Time and time again… we’d have sex and he told me to leave.”

 

Dream stiffens next to him. “What?” He breathes soundlessly. “Sapnap… Why…. Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Sapnap briefly wonders if he can scream. He feels like he should, just to let go of the tight anxiety in his chest. But he doesn’t.

 

“Because you always left too.” He spits the words out like venom on his tongue. It’s nothing short of the truth. “You went to shower or to change and George would tell me to get out and you never… It doesn’t matter now.”

 

“I left because you always left!” Dream’s voice rises in volume. Maybe he’s anxious too, maybe he’s angry at Sapnap. Or at himself. “You always left and I thought… You didn’t want us as anything more than just fuck buddies. I never thought…”

 

“Well, that’s your problem, Dream.” Sapnap finally looks at Dream with eyes burning red hot fury. Dream’s face is wet with tears, snot gathering under his nose. “You never think.”

 

Sapnap makes to get up, his own hot tears streaking down his face, breaths falling short and anxiety crushing him, but Dream quickly grabs onto one of Sapnap’s hands with surprising strength. “That… That one time you and I had sex… You left and I yelled at you. Why did you leave when I told you you can stay?”

 

“Why do you think?” Sapnap’s legs are over the bed but his hands are still clutched tightly between Dream’s. He pulls on it, hard, but Dream only tightens his fingers to the point it’s almost painful.

 

“You should have told George to fuck off.”

 

“How? So he could yell at me again? I didn’t know what that was between you, why you even invited me into your bedroom that day. I had no authority when it came to sex, and you should have known that!”

 

“You always had a say when it came to sex!”

 

“Like fuck I did.” Sapnap whips his head around so he can look at Dream as he angrily wipes the tears from his face away. “Have you heard what George calls me in bed? Have you heard the shit he says to me sometimes? You can’t sit here and pretend that you know what I went through when it has always been you and him!”

 

“What… what do you mean?” His face is pale, laced with fear, eyes wide as if he has seen a ghost. The hand on his wrist lessens in strength and falls away. Sapnap doesn’t move away, however, not when Dream looks like he’s on the verge of passing out.

 

“Even when we were having sex it was you and him.” Sapnap says, somewhat apathetically now despite the tears still leaking from his eyes. “You had me sit and watch as George fucked you and all I could do is watch because George would have told me to leave and I… sex does something to me. I… I’m not in the right frame of mind and I can’t… I can’t really think for myself. If George had asked me to cut my dick off I’d have done it if there was a slight chance that it might have made him happy.”

 

And there it is – the stone cold truth.

 

Dream seems to pale even more. “Sap, did we ever… Have I ever… you never did anything you didn’t want to do, right?”

 

Sapnap’s silence speaks for itself.

 

Dream sobs. His hands come up to cup his face as he rocks forward onto his knees, face nearly hitting the covers. Sapnap realizes that Dream still hasn’t changed them.

 

Sapnap almost reaches out to hold him. He wants to, because Dream didn’t meant to hurt him, he knows he didn’t.

 

But he still did.

 

Dream looks at him through wet eyes, face blotchy and puffy as he makes to touch Sapnap but seems to think better of it. Every now and then a sob tears through his throat as he stares at his best friend in pain.

 

“Dream…” He wants to say he has to go, but he can’t leave Dream like this.

 

After everything he’s been through he doesn’t want Dream to be in pain anymore.

 

He had felt a lot of pain here, in this room, in this house, in Florida. In this life you continuously have the power to offer someone else a little relief. Why would he withhold that?

 

He remembers what a little relief feels like. It feels like a lot.

 

So he sets aside his own grief, his own anger, and opens his arms.

 

Dream is too engrossed in his pain to notice Sapnap’s olive branch so gently he pulls Dream’s hunched over figure into his chest and lets the elder cling onto his hoodie with all his might.

 

Together they sit, both crying, for a long while. Dream eventually falls asleep, his body still jerking with the force of his cries every now and then, but he seems down for the count.

 

Sapnap lays him down on the bed as carefully as he can manage and throws the covers over his body. There are tear tracks on his face, but his face seems peaceful, for once.

 

He thinks about staying.

 

He could curl up in the bed, in Dream’s arms, and they would wake up together and maybe they’d kiss, and laugh, and he’d forget about the stones he carries in his heart.

 

He thinks about forgiveness when he looks at Dream’s face, but the truth is he has already been forgiven long before he even said sorry.

 

Sapnap backtracks out of the room slowly, careful not to make a noise. Dream’s coffee sits, untouched, on the nightstand.

 

He makes sure to shut Dream’s door on his way out.

 

Sapnap loves them like a rotten dog. He loves them like his canines are falling out of his gums, like a monster. Like a beast.

 

Like something not worth loving back.

 

But when he sits on his own bed, lost in thought, he feels slightly better knowing that at least Dream knows it all now. No more secrets.

 

It’s hard to wait around for something you know might never happen; but it’s harder to give it up when you know it’s everything you want.

Notes:

Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

-Alfred Lord Tennyson

Chapter 9: Come Back and Bring Back My Smile

It’s dark outside when Sapnap finally decides it’s time to get off his ass and at least stretch his back a little. The satisfying pop is worth the light-headedness and he stumbles a little when he walks to the door.

 

He hasn’t seen either Dream or George since his conversation with Dream yesterday. Dream must have realized just how deep the hurt goes because he’s knocked on his door earlier and sprouted apologies and love confessions that Sapnap almost caved into.

 

It took all his willpower to remain in bed and hide under the covers. Dream didn’t stay for much longer, clearly thinking Sapnap must be asleep.

 

A part of him wants to give in to his heart and knock on Dream’s door but he can’t. Not yet, anyway, not when his wounds are so fresh.

 

He’s about to open his bedroom door when a soft knock stops him in his tracks.

 

His entire body freezes, one hand extended out to touch the doorknob, eyes wide.

 

A chill runs down his spine, though he’s not sure why. His door is locked, it’s not like Dream can get in even if he wanted to.

 

“Hey.”

 

It’s not Dream that speaks so gently, too quiet, almost, to be heard through the bedroom. Maybe he should have locked himself inside his office, because it’s soundproof and he wouldn’t have to hear George’s voice, softer than he’s ever heard it.

 

Sapnap doesn’t reply, doesn’t dare to breathe too loud lest George senses he’s listening.

 

If he’s quiet for long enough maybe George will go away.

 

“I know you’re in there,” George starts, voice a little unsure, “and I know you’re listening. I… I just haven’t seen you in a while and… I miss you.”

 

Sapnap has to pinch himself to prove he’s not dreaming.

 

George keeps talking. It doesn’t seem to matter if Sapnap replies or not. It doesn’t even really matter if he’s listening, he thinks. George seems to need to get this off his chest, because the way he talks is urgent, as if he will lose the courage to say what he wants to.

 

“I thought about typing this out in Discord and just pressing send but I thought you might not read it if you saw it’s from me. I know you didn’t listen to the voicemails I sent, Dream told me.” George pauses to take a deep breath. “Which you are more than entitled not to, anyway. I… I fucked up, Sapnap.”

 

Sapnap waits to see if he’ll say more.

 

George doesn’t for a really long time, long enough that Sapnap starts to think he’s left.

 

“I knew you liked me.” George starts again. “And… I guess I got scared. It was easier to make you hate me than deal with a relationship but… I took it too far.”

 

Sapnaps stands there with baited breath, hand still stretched out as if if he moves George will realize he’s there and the spell will break.

 

There’s another soft knock on the door that has Sapnap flinching.

 

“I… Sap?” George pleads, voice desperate now.

 

There’s a million things Sapnap could say.

 

Why?

 

What’s changed? How did it take Sapnap leaving with his heart on the floor for him to realize how much he’s fucked up?

 

And after all this time, after everything, George still can’t say sorry.

 

“I’m gonna go…” George says after a while. He sounds exactly how Sapnap feels; a little sad, wistful, maybe regretful – everything Sapnap has wanted him to be for so long.

 

It’s bittersweet.

 

“Bye.” George whispers eventually and his footsteps indicate he’s gone.

 

The energy seems to drain out of Sapnap and he sinks to the floor, eyes still wide and body stiff, akin to rigor mortis.

 

Maybe he is dead. He feels dead.

 

He wants to chase after George. He wants to yell at him, tell him he has fucked up and there’s nothing he can say that will ever make it okay.

 

But it seems like George already knows.

 

If Sapnap had opened the door, would George have said he likes Sapnap back? Or would he still have lied and hurt and cheated?

 

It’s a rhetorical question because Sapnap never gets up to find out. He sits on the floor for a really long time, trying to find the strength to keep on living. He does, eventually, stand up when his feet go numb and his knees can’t take the pressure anymore.

 

Sapnap tries not to think too hard when he leaves his room and goes downstairs to get a glass of water. He steals some leftover pasta, no doubt made by Dream, and is about to sneak back upstairs when he spots Dream in the corner of the kitchen.

 

His usually tall figure seems shrunken in the dark corner, made smaller still with the way he tries to blend into the shadows, like he was trying not to make himself known.

 

Dream doesn’t say anything, though he looks like he wants to. Sapnap doesn’t, so he just shoots Dream a hesitant smile and walks past him.

 

It’s more than he would have done a couple of weeks ago. He’s getting there.

 

He almost thinks Dream will follow, but he doesn’t. Sapnap’s grateful and a little disappointed.

 

The pasta’s cold when he collapses into his gaming chair, but he didn’t let it sit in the microwave for too long after all, so he doesn’t really have anyone else to blame but himself. Spoonfulls land in his mouth as he realizes just how hungry he has been. Slowly but surely, his appetite is seemingly coming back. Now that he’s not being yelled at around every corner, now that he knows he’s not the one that’s fucked up. It’s still a little hard to accept.

 

He misses Karl, because with Karl it’s always simple. Maybe he should call him, but Karl is unlikely to have time now that he’s gone off to record with Foolish. Maybe he should have accepted the invitation when Noah told him to stay for a couple of days.

 

It’s hard to socialize with anyone else but Karl right now, because Karl knows him in and out. At the end of the day he’s so beyond lucky to have a friend like him.

 

If only the two had been attracted to one another they would have made quite the pair and saved Sapnap a whole lot of heartbreak.

 

They had joked about it once, about them dating, back when Quackity was still his friend. Now that he’s stopped replying to his messages it’s a little bit of a sore topic.

 

He misses when times were simple, back when the pandemic was in full swing and he lived alone with Dream, and skipped collage classes and sat in calls with George for hours on end. Back then Quackity would call him from his car when he’d go on one of his mysterious drives and they’d talk about life and love and imagine what life will be like when they’re old.

 

Sapnap remembers Quackity saying he imagines Sapnap growing old with Dream like it was yesterday.

 

You guys have a friendship I always wanted, Quackity said, Like… like friends but you’re so much more. People like to fuck around and say Dream is in love with George but… the way he talks about you when you’re not there… I want someone to talk about me like that, you know?

 

Sapnap hadn’t made much of it back then. Things were good, he didn’t have a reason to read into anything anyone said because him and Dream were friends and nothing could tear them apart, not even George.

 

He hates that the whole drama with Dream forced him to take sides. He misses Quackity, he misses the summer, but it’s summer three years ago.

 

If he called Quackity now, would he answer? He stares at his message from two months ago, the last one that he bothered to send to his friend, still left on unread.

 

Maybe in another universe good things lasted longer.

 

If he called his dad, would he pick up? He’s thought about repairing their relationship, but that seems more self-destructive than constructive, like he’s looking for more ammunition against himself. God knows his father gave him enough of that.

 

There’s a sudden ping of a message on Discrod and for a second his face lights up because he thinks it’s Quackity.

 

George (23:08): Hi

 

Sapnap stares at the message unsurely. George seems very keen to talk to him all of a sudden. He didn’t have much to say a couple of weeks ago, but the change of heart is appreciated, even if it stings and stirs a whole lot of ugly emotions in Sapnap’s head.

 

He feels anger in his ribs, like a tightness in his lungs and he can’t quite breathe. Anxiety he holds higher, in his chest, where his heart is.

 

Sadness has always been his hands, his arms and his veins, pumping shards of ice around his body until he’s bleeding it.

 

He feels it all at once, just through that one greeting. George always had a chokehold on him, like an owner on a collared dog.

 

But Sapnap doesn’t want to burn things down to the ground anymore. He doesn’t want to set things on fire and watch them turn to ash. Not anymore.

 

Sapnap (23:13): Hi

 

George starts typing immediately as if he has been waiting in chat. Sapnap stares at the screen of his computer, spooning pasta piece by piece into his mouth and chewing absentmindedly.

 

Anxiety has started leaking from his chest and clawing up his throat, trying to burst through.

 

There is something beautiful about reaching out to the monstrous with intent to touch it gently. To risk sharp teeth and the lethal claws, to defy fear and revulsion, and choose to be delicate with something that can be, and often is, incredibly brutal.

 

George Davidson has always been a weapon of war, forged in loneliness and behind walls so high that despite knowing each other for years his emotions always remain a mystery. George is all bite and sharp edges.

 

It’s really difficult to distinguish where his reflexive tendencies begin and where it is just hate.

 

George (23:15): I just wanted to make sure you’re in your room before I leave mine

 

Oh.

 

Sapnap (23:15): Yeah I am

 

Sapnap (23:15): Dream made pasta, it’s in the fridge. But heat it up well, it’s kind of gross cold

 

George (23:16): Okay thanks

 

Is this what their lives are going to be like from now on? Discord messages instead of conversations, closed doors and sneaking around just so they don’t run into each other?

 

Dream barely looked him in the eye today, and he knows they’re giving him space and he knows he needs it. But it still feels like something’s off, like he’s sweeping his emotions under the carpet.

 

He can’t live his life with the people he loves in the same house, separated by walls.

 

Sapnap (23:18): What are we doing?

 

George reads the message but doesn’t reply instantly. Sapnap thinks he might have gone to get some food, but eventually the three little dots appear, indicating that he’s typing.

 

George (23:25): What do you mean?

 

Sapnap (23:25): Are we ever going to talk again?

 

He bites his lip, hard, regretting the message almost as soon as he hits send.

 

Again, George doesn’t reply straight away and it sends another wave of anxiety up his throat, into his mouth and onto his tongue, cold and bitter.

 

He chews his lip until it’s raw, until he tastes iron.

 

George (23:30): I didn’t think you wanted to

 

Sapnap (23:31): We can’t never talk again.

 

George (23:34): Do you want to talk?

 

Sapnap (23:34): What would you say if I said yes?

 

George is typing…

 

He types for a solid couple of minutes. Sapnap’s attention never diverts from the screen, eyes glued to the chat as if his life depends on it.

 

Blunt fingernails dig into the palms of his hands in an attempt to ground.

 

George (23:40): I would say that I miss you. That I wish I could say it to your face

 

Sapnap (23:40): Then come say it to my face

 

George reads the message but doesn’t reply and a couple of seconds later, before he has a chance to backtrack on his words, there’s a knock on his door.

 

“Hey.” George says through the door, voice muffled but still there.

 

“I…” Sapnap rises from the chair. His hands shake. “I still don’t want to see you.”

 

“That’s okay.” George says softly. “We can talk like this, if you want.”

 

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Sapnap asks, unsure.

 

George has a slight smile in his words, but he still sounds sad. “You are weird.”

 

Sapnap smiles too. He’s tempted to open the door and see George for the first time in a while, but talking is hard enough as it is. He can’t see him, can’t touch him again without it pulling him harder.

 

So he sits against the door, head leaning back against the wood, and waits.

 

“I knew you were in love with me for a while.” George says after a few moments of silence. From the way he sighs Sapnap knows he’s sat on the floor as well. What he doesn’t know is that his head rests exactly where Sapnap’s does, on the other side. “The way you talked to Dream and I… You’re not good at hiding your emotions, even if you don’t know what they are yourself. And I could always read you like a book. It’s my secret talent.”

 

Sapnap swallows thickly, head hung between his knees now.

 

George had known all this time.

 

“Love, for you, is larger than the usual romantic love,” George continues, oblivious to the tears building behind Sapnap’s eyes. “It’s like religion. It’s terrifying.”

 

There’s a beat of silence when George gathers his wits and takes a deep breath. His voice is shaking when he speaks next.

 

“I had time to get used to Dream’s love. For us it had been gradual, just sex here and there, and sex I can do. Then he suggested we include you and… it was everything I wanted, for a while. You were perfect and innocent and you were so eager to please and… I knew I’d break you regardless. It was just easier to do it on my terms, to prove that I am as horrible as I always thought through choice and not because something inside me is broken and unlovable. I never deserved an ounce of your love.” George says sadly, words a little choked up. “I pushed you away so you’d realize that I am not worth your love. You made me so angry. Every touch, your every look and every breath made me angry because I would hurt you and you would still apologize to me. So I kept taking it further and further until you’d just leave. But you’re stubborn, I should have known it wouldn’t be easy to break you. And I was right, and you stuck around longer than you should have and now here we are.

 

“And then Dream said that he doesn’t think you like us back,” George has to pause to swallow back the tears, “and I knew it was bullshit. The way you’d leave after we’d have sex, the way Dream and I always left… he thought that you just wanted a quick fuck and he was so lost in his own hurt that he never noticed yours. But I knew, I could see how in love you were with each other and… I wanted to break it.

 

“I thought that if I burn it all to the ground we’d be back where we started and I wouldn’t have to hurt either of you anymore. We’d just be friends, like old times. I got jealous,” George admits shamefully, “When it was just you and Dream one night. I told you to leave and you didn’t even think to question it. I… why didn’t you yell at me? You still haven’t and it would make things easier if you’d just scream at me. I… I can’t take this silence anymore. Sap, please.”

 

Sapnap listens with an aching heart, but he can’t open his mouth to speak.

 

“You never stood up for yourself!” George says angrily when Sapnap is still quiet, “You never told me off, you didn’t even try to stay. Why didn’t you stay?”

 

He’s crying now, choked quiet sobs seemingly shaking the entire house.

 

They sit there long enough, crying together, until the moon passes over Sapnap’s window. It must be past midnight by now, if the moon is visible from his room. It also means that the storms have passed, giving way to clearer skies.

 

“I couldn’t stay.” Sapnap stares at the bright surface of the moon. “Not when you had a bigger claim on Dream than I.”

 

He thinks George may have left because he cannot hear his cries anymore.

 

Eventually George speaks. “I never did, either. After you left Dream and I got into a fight… I don’t think he likes me much after what I did to you.”

 

“I don’t like you much either.” Sapnap jokes, but his heart’s not in it.

 

George laughs anyway, though it lacks humor. “Fair.”

 

“I’m tired of being angry at you.” Sapnap closes his eyes when new tears rise to the surface.

 

“I’m tired of pretending I am.” Comes the quiet reply.

 

“I… I can’t forgive you.” Sapnap squeezes his fists tightly as if that will stop the sadness spreading through his whole body. “I just… I want to be home again.”

 

“I can’t blame you for not thinking of this place like home.” George speaks softly, and it’s strange to hear him so gentle. Sapnap cannot imagine what his face looks like when it’s not twisted with anger or contempt. “I left England because it wasn’t home when you two were here.”

 

“I guess that’s where home is. Not where you are from, but where you are most wanted.” Sapnap opens his eyes again and sees that the moon has moved across the sky. It’s difficult to say how long they have sat on the floor, backs to each other, separated only by wood. “I’m just tired of waiting for you two. For us to be your friends again, George. Gradually the waiting began to feel less like waiting and more like this was simply what life was. Distracting tasks undertaken while the thing you are waiting for refuses to happen.”

 

“The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. At least that’s what Einstein said, I think.”

 

“Are you calling me insane, George Not Found?” Some humor leaks into Sapnap’s words because at the end of the day this is nice. He missed George, his voice, his face, him.

 

“Maybe.” George seems to shrug. “I have always been calculated, distant and unavailable, not out of any sort of strategy, but out of fear. Fear kept me from a lot of things, but perhaps the most poignant one was that it kept me from love and opening myself to you guys. It kept me from something fundamental, you know? Intimate human connection.”

 

“You have always been a constipated bitch.” Sapnap admits, voice not lacking in drollness.

 

George laughs. Sapnap hasn’t heard that laugh in a while. “Yeah. And I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. You didn’t deserve that.”

 

That was all Sapnap ever needed to hear.

 

All he ever craved, that little part of him that has always been missing – it has been George.

 

The only obsession everyone wants is love. People think that by falling in love they make themselves whole. The Platonic Union of souls.

 

Sapnap knows otherwise.

 

You’re whole before you begin. And then love fractures you. You’re whole, and then you’re cracked open.

 

“When I left… I was angry,” Sapnap admits, “At you, at Dream, at myself. I needed to be somewhere different. Maybe I needed to be someone different too. What you called me… the names… it brought back sore memories.”

 

George mulls this information over. “Of your father?”

 

“Among others.” Sapnap shrugs.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” George asks softly.

 

“With you?” Sapnap laughs. “No. I don’t think I ever want to talk about it again, it won’t change the past. Dream knows enough to walk on egg shells around me and I don’t want that with you.”

 

“So there’s a future for us?” George asks, new hope in his voice. Judging by the rise in volume he turned to face the door, to face him.

 

Like an eager puppy seeing a treat.

 

Like a starving dog eyeing a piece of meat.

 

“I don’t know.” Sapnap says honestly. There’s a darkness in him still, and right now it’s pulling him under into the uneasy hands of sleep. “Depends how you play this.”

 

“Tell me what to do so I can fix it.” George is pleading now, desperation in his words.

 

Sapnap wants to, but how can he when he doesn’t even know himself? “I don’t know.” He says instead. “That’s something that you have to figure out yourself.”

 

“Okay.” George doesn’t sound defeated like Sapnap thought he might. He sounds hopeful at the slight chance that this rift between them, this chasm of pain, can be repaired. “But for a while… before everything, before the sex, it was love, wasn’t it?”

 

Sapnap breathes, and he thinks he smells George’s cologne through the door. “Yeah.” He sighs. “For me it was love.”

 

George doesn’t say more. Silently he gets up and a few seconds later Sapnap hears his door shut.

 

He sits there for a while longer, leaning against the door, eyes fixed on the moon’s path against a starless sky. Florida is too bright nowadays to properly see the stars. He’d visit Texas to stare at the sky like he had when he was a child, if Texas was a place he would ever want to visit again.

 

The stains on Texas are irreversible. He had been a child. The stains on Florida, however, are slowly bleaching out.

 

At the end of the tunnel, a small spark of hope gleams in the dark depths of Sapnap’s heart.

Notes:

A little George angst for all you sadists :)

Chapter 10: I Can't Forget The Day You Left

Notes:

You ask, I deliver <3

You’re BBH!

 

Sapnap groans. This is the fifth time in a row he had not been able to get himself in the stupid Which DSMP member are you quiz. He got George last time and honestly, both feel like a slap to the face.

 

His eyes scan the description of the results.

 

You’re definitely the one in the group to keep things together.

 

Mhmm, right.

 

You also definitely have that one very special person who you ‘platonically’ flirt with.

 

Sapnap wants to sew his eyes shut so he never has to think about Bad flirting with Skeppy ever again. Or start to involuntarily compare them to himself and Dream and George.

 

A shiver runs down his spine. Ew.

 

You’re sweet, caring and obsessed with animals, especially your own.

You likely watch anime, a little or a lot, and you often use faces such as O_O, owo, TwT, etc.

 

Sapnap will actually tear his own trachea out rather than be cringe. Who the fuck makes these quizzes? He can respect the time and effort, but the accuracy is lacking.

 

He has never typed out owo in his life and that’s a hill he will die on.

 

You’ve always been one to stick to the rules and be obedient, but it doesn’t hurt to stray once or twice.

 

There’s a fleeting moment of total silence when Sapnap holds his breath for as long as he can.

 

Obedient?

 

There’s no way this one twelve year old girl on fucking Buzzfeed knows he can’t really say no during sex. It’s like he’s under some kind of spell, handcuffed maybe, and his body betrays him.

 

If the reason why he’s like Bad is because he’s fucking obedient then he might as well be six feet under the ground. He loves Bad, but thinking about Bad as obedient when he has all these weird sexual scenarios in his head is not okay.

 

Fuck this twelve year old and her fucking stupid ass quiz.

 

He didn’t sleep much, two or three hours at most since George left and although his eyes are slipping shut, as soon as he actually puts his laptop down and closes his eyes, he’s wide awake.

 

Sapnap flops onto his other side, facing away from the wall, and presses retry quiz.

 

What’s your favourite color?

 

He answered blue before, because it’s true, but he goes for orange this time. The fans made him out to be some kind of Blaze hybrid character, so surely the right answer here is orange.

 

What do you enjoy doing?

 

That’s a loaded one. He chose streaming before because it seemed like the safest option. There are no options for lying in bed for hours on end and pretending that he’s fine. There’s literally nothing else that fits the description.

 

Acting

 

Makeup

 

Piano

 

Coding

 

Who in their right mind enjoys coding? Even Fundy, from what little interaction they shared, has mentioned that he enjoys it more out of necessity than actual pleasure. He picks football just to get the question off his screen.

 

There’s not much he enjoys doing lately.

 

What’s your favourite song?

 

He knows the answers because he considered them carefully last time. He doesn’t let his eyes linger on Heatwaves for too long. Or on Dream’s Roadtrip. This must be an old quiz because his music has definitely evolved since Roadtrip. How are the options all either Wilbur Soot songs or Badboyhalo’s Muffin?

 

This is so stupid. He clicks on Mr. Brightside as the lesser of all evils.

 

George (04:32): Hey

 

Sapnap has to blink to make sure he’s not imagining the little Discord notification in the bottom right hand corner of the screen. Sitting up in bed proves difficult because of all the blankets, but he manages. He leans against the wall and brings the laptop up to his nose, attention no longer on the next question. Which friend are you goes unanswered this time.

 

What in the name of hell does he want now?

 

George (04:32): I saw youre active

 

Fuck Sapnap for not changing his stupid status.

 

George (04:33): Can’t sleep?

 

Sapnap (04:33): No

 

He bites his lip. It’s a little blunt. George used to always write like this, straight and to the point and definitely not one to waste precious characters in messages.

 

Sapnap used to send a lot of emojis. He’s recently been a fan of the gif keyboard.

 

George (04:34): Me neither

 

George (04:34): Whatcha doing?

 

Sapnap (04:35): Quizzes

 

George (04:35): Gay

 

Sapnap snorts.

 

George (04:35): What kind of quizzes?

 

Sapnap (04:36): Which dsmp member are u

 

George (04:36): Gayyyyy

 

George (04:36): Who’d you get?

 

Sapnap (04:36): Bad

 

And Tubbo. And Ranboo and Punz and you.

 

George (04:36): Whaaat loll are u srs

 

George (04:36): What kind of fake ass answers have u been giving

 

Sapnap (04:36): Not my fault the fuckin quiz was made by actual dog water children

 

George (04:37): Gay

 

Sapnap (04:37): The insult doesn’t land when it’s true

 

Sapnap (04:37): You realize I had your dick in my mouth right

 

George (04:37): That’s besides the point

 

George (04:37): I’m not doing lame quizzes in the middle of the night with the lights off and my pants down

 

Sapnap (04:37): My pants are all the way up mister

 

George (04:37): I’ll believe it when I see it

 

Sapnap swallows, hands hesitating over the keys. The insinuation that George will see him, that they will have to talk is a little too much to handle right now. Talking to George online reminds him of old times, though, and it’s easy to pretend it’s three years ago back when things were good.

 

He’s reminded, all of a sudden, why George is one of his best friends.

 

Talking to George is easy. Not even talking about anything overly significant, but just existing together had always been easy. George was always easy to get along with; quick witted with a face to boot.

 

Sapnap must have hesitated for a little too long because George starts typing again.

 

George (04:40): I didn’t mean it like that

 

Sapnap (04:41): I know

 

George (04:41): So how come you’re doing lame quizzes in the middle of the night?

 

George is quick to switch the topic, like always, as soon as words become too meaningful and he can’t get by on humor.

 

Sapnap sighs, but starts typing anyway.

 

Sapnap (04:41): I told you I can’t sleep

 

George (04:41): Yeah I feel you

 

Sapnap stares at his screen when George doesn’t type anything else. Should he say something?

 

It feels weird to leave the conversation here, as if it’s incomplete, the words cutting off halfway on a page.

 

George is still active. This is just a stand off at this point – who will cave first?

 

Sapnap has nothing he really wants to say to George. He’s said it all, if not directly then surely enough for the two idiots he’s living with to piece it all together.

 

All Sapnap has ever wanted was a life with them. To be their friend, their lover, their family. All he has asked for, prayed for, begged for was this.

 

George (04:45): You wanna play something? If you can’t sleep anyway?

 

Sapnap, for the first time in a really long time, smiles in a way that he knows his broken heart is smiling too.

 

Sapnap (04:45): Sure

 

George (04:45): I’ve been getting back into chess lately

 

Sapnap (04:45): I am a god at chess so prepare to weep

 

George (04:45): We’ll see about that Texas boy

 

Sapnap (04:46): Oh SoRrY siR cAn You PAsS mE a CruMpEt

 

George (04:46): Prepare to die

 

Sapnap (04:46): Prepare your mom for me

 

George (04:46): Prepare these nuts

 

It goes on for a while. Eventually George gets bored, probably because he can’t outwit Sapnap when it comes to your mom jokes, and George sends him an invite to a chess room.

 

Sapnap’s screen is split in two, with chess on the left and Discord on the right.

 

George (05:30): Ooohh get fucking wrecked! You can’t play without a Queen

 

Sapnap (05:31): Shut up maybe you can’t

 

He moves his tower across the board and takes George’s knight only to lose it in two moves.

 

Four more moves and it’s checkmate.

 

Sapnap (06:00): Youre a bitch

 

George (06:00): Don’t be a sore loser Sappy

 

George (06:01): I’m just better

 

Sapnap (06:01): You’re a little bitch is what you are

 

George (06:02): You kiss your mother with that mouth?

 

Sapnap (06:02): No but I kiss yours

 

Knock knock knock.

 

Sapnap almost launches the laptop across the room when he hears the sudden sound in the surrounding silence of the early morning. Outside, the sun is slowly creeping up the sky, but Sapnap’s room faces west so it’s still fairly dark outside. Birds have started chirping already.

 

He’s frozen, listening intently. Intruders wouldn’t have knocked, right? George is still typing on Discord, so it can’t be George.

 

“Sap?” Someone asks outside his room and he sighs in both relief and anxiety.

 

It’s Dream. Outside his room. At six in the fucking morning.

 

Sluggishly he clambers out of bed and has to pull down his pyjama pants because somewhere during his tossing and turning they turned into pantaloons.

 

He pulls open the door, stifling a yawn, and can barely make out Dream in the darkness of the hallway.

 

“Were you asleep?” Dream whispers, worried.

 

Sapnap has to shake the yawn out of his body. “No, what’s up?”

 

“I…” Dream shuffles where he stands, stepping from foot to foot. The thing about Dream is that he’s a fucking giant but he looks so small and lost when he stands there, hands twisting in front of him like a little kid.

 

Something inside Sapnap twists painfully.

 

“Dude, it’s six in the morning.” Sapnap runs a hand through his hair. “Everything okay?” 

 

“Yeah.” Dream shrugs, but doesn’t say anything else.

 

Alarm bells go off in Sapnap’s mind. Dream is not typically shy. He’s always talked about feelings and emotions, rather vocally too, to him and George, his family, his fans.

 

It’s very out of character to see him so… unsure.

 

“Right.” The word stretches suspiciously. “Did you get any sleep?”

 

“No.” Dream admits with a sigh.

 

“Huh.” Sapnap shrugs. “Common theme tonight.”

 

Dream opens his mouth to start talking but seems to think better of asking questions. Good. For some reason he’s sceptical of telling Dream about his conversation with George, as if he’d somehow disapprove, which is ridiculous, surely.

 

It seems private, somehow, like it’s none of Dream’s business.

 

“Dream?” Sapnap speaks again after a second of silence.

 

Dream perks up immediately. “Yeah?”

 

“Do you want to come in?”

 

He pretends to hesitate, more for Sapnap’s benefit, but eventually nods so Sapnap steps aside and lets the man into his bedroom.

 

They stand there, awfully reminiscent of when they stood in Dream’s bedroom, two days ago. It had felt more loaded then, in the light of day when Sapnap could look at Dream’s face and see the man he loves.

 

Dream’s features are barely discernible in the darkness of the morning now, but the tension in his body is obvious. That’s fine. Sapnap’s brain is too tired to think about the meaning behind the actions.

 

“Come on then.” He lays back down on the same spot he just vacated, picking up his laptop that still displays his chat with George and his loss in chess and moves it to the side for now. Very slowly, as if expecting to be kicked out at any second, Dream climbs onto the bed and lays down on top of the covers.

 

Their bodies don’t touch, though if Sapnap moved an inch, he would sense him. He doesn’t.

 

The only sound around them, save for the birds outside, is their even breathing. They lay there long enough for Sapnap to suspect Dream’s asleep.

 

In fact, he’s just about to shut his own eyes and at least try to sleep now that he’s here, when Dream speaks.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Hearts beat as one. Sapnap can feel his in his throat. “You’re welcome.”

 

“You didn’t have to.” Dream continues, voice soft. His body relaxes and sinks in the bed. “But you did. And… thanks.”

 

Sapnap doesn’t reply because there’s really not much he can say. In the dark room his laptop lights up with a message.

 

“When you left,” Dream whispers so quietly that at first Sapnap thinks he imagined it, “I thought… I would never see you again. And I would never get to tell you that I’m in love with you.”

 

Sapnap can hear his own blood in his ears with how fast his heart is racing. The very tips of his fingers tingle with adrenaline, the need to do something.

 

He swallows.

 

“You…. You are?”

 

The covers rustle when Dream moves. Briefly, his arm brushes against Sapnap’s and it’s like a thousand ants are crawling over his skin there, the contact all too much at once.

 

“Yeah.” Dream exhales roughly. “When you’re not around… I get so lonely for you I get sick. I should have told you earlier, I know that, but I… I didn’t want to lose you. And if the only way I could have you was through sex…” He has to pause to breathe, “… then that’s what I had to do.”

 

“You don’t have to keep explaining yourself.” Sapnap says into the darkness when Dream doesn’t say more. “I just… I think I need some time to trust you again.”

 

“That’s okay.”

 

Without warning Dream grasps for Sapnap’s hand, holding it tightly as if he’s scared to let go.

 

Sapnap can’t see his face but he sounds sad when he speaks. “I will wait for as long as I have to. I will let you hurt me if that’s what you need, if it means I get you in the end.”

 

There’s a very sudden realisation in Sapnap’s mind that Dream is very naïve. Logically speaking, George should be the most mature one, having four years on Sapnap. Dream is only a year older than him, sure, but he far exceeds in experience. Sapnap had been a virgin, hadn’t even had his proper first kiss until Dream claimed it.

 

So explain how in the world are the two idiots he’s in love with, the ones that should be the voice of reason here, so fucking naïve?

 

“I think,” Sapnap blinks back tears furiously because god knows he has cried enough, “I think I will always have a soft spot for you.”

 

He can feel Dream breathing next to him, the steady rise and fall of his chest. It’s comforting, surprisingly. He hasn’t felt Dream next to him in a very long while.

 

“I have so much left to give.” Dream squeezes his hand tightly. Slowly, gently, Sapnap squeezes back. “So many kisses and laughs and nights and days and risks worth taking and road trips and books to read and pictures to take… You have to believe me. Please.”

 

“I cannot promise you anything, Dream.” Sapnap says quietly. “I… If I knew it would hurt this much…”

 

“I know.” Dream squeezes his hand one last time before letting go. “Sometimes I think what life would be like if we never started any of this in the first place.”

 

“We’d be best friends.” Sapnap smiles, even if it is a little bitter.

 

“Sounds nice.” 

 

They lie there in silence, watching through the window as the sky is bathed in a cool blue, the sunset completely hidden from this side of the house.

 

“Have you talked to George?” Dream asks eventually when the sky is light and the room is slowly illuminated by the morning.

 

Sapnap could pretend he’s asleep, just to avoid having this conversation.

 

“Yeah.” He says after some time.

 

Dream hums in acknowledgement. “How did it go?”

 

Sapnap inhales deeply, eyes fixated on the window. The house is surrounded by trees, oaks and palms, but you can see other houses stretching over the horizon and down the hill. It feels like the world is very big, full of many people who are trying to live their lives, just like he is. Many, many people experiencing the same heartbreak, the same conflicts and tears and conversations and laughs.

 

The world is very big and he is very small.

 

“I think it went okay.” He says honestly. “George… hurt me so much I didn’t think I would… I didn’t know if I’d survive this. I thought I’d move to Carolina with Karl for a minute, just so I would never have to talk to him again.”

 

“You would leave?” Dream asks, but it’s not unkind. It’s not said with pretension or accusation. He’s sad, curious maybe. A note of acceptance is there too and it’s refreshing, comforting, to know that he is no longer bound by Dream’s feelings.

 

He is free.

 

“I thought about it.” He shrugs. “I didn’t feel right to go. Karl… is my best friend but living with him… I’m not in love with him. I would have burdened him after a while, I think, if I never got my closure.”

 

“Did you get it?” Dream prods, voice still carrying the weight of the world. “Your closure?”

 

“Maybe.” Sapnap answers vaguely. “It’s hard to tell when the both of you keep harassing me.”

 

Dream chuckles. “I just can’t stay away from your beautiful face.”

 

Beautiful.

 

Sapnap has been called many things in his life, ranging from pathetic to annoying but never, ever, in his entire twenty two years on this planet, had he been called beautiful.

 

He rather likes it, though it does send fire from his heart to his face, setting it aflame. Thank god Dream is still looking out the window and not at him.

 

“Have you talked to George?” It’s Sapnap’s turn to ask.

 

Dream seems to stiffen at the inquiry. “No.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because he hurt you.” Dream says it like it’s obvious, like it’s religious.

 

Sapnap closes his eyes for a second, the heavy words ringing in his ears. “As much as I appreciate you standing up for me… you punishing him for what he did to me isn’t going to help, I don’t think.”

 

“He lied to me, Sap. He… he pretended he didn’t know what was happening, but…”

 

“But he did.” Sapnap finishes for him. “I do think, though, that he’s sorry.”

 

“Did he say he’s sorry?”

 

“George never says he’s sorry.” Sapnap tries to be light-hearted, but that reminder only serves to make his heart ache.

 

“And until he apologises, I’m not speaking to him.” Dream says with a huff.

 

Sapnap smiles, because the way Dream puffs his cheeks out reminds him so much of his baby sisters when they don’t get their way.

 

“Dream,” Sapnap says gently, “George made mistakes, and however I choose to punish him for the things he did to me is my choice. But you… don’t make the same mistakes you did with me.”

 

Dream hums but doesn’t reply. Sapnap’s not all too sure if the words were registered, or his advice taken, but it doesn’t matter because the room is bathed in low light now, morning having officially arrived.

 

Next to him Dream turns on his side, back facing to him, and judging by the way his breathing evens out Sapnap knows he’s asleep, just as the sun starts peaking over the roof of their house.

 

The sun hasn’t been out in days.

 

Slowly, so as to not jostle Dream too much, he picks up the laptop again. There, in his chat with George is a message from a couple of minutes ago:

 

George (08:23): I heard your door open and close and I heard you and Dream talk. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but… if he stayed in your room can you please tell him I miss him?

 

George (08:23): I miss you both

 

George (08:30): Goodnight

 

The idea of a best friend is the highest form of tenderness. It’s the epitome of choosing someone over and over, maybe even subconsciously because you just know on some unspeakable level that your lives are supposed to be entwined, that the connection between you is fatefully significant and necessary.

 

Sapnap shuts his laptop and lays his head next to Dream’s. He falls asleep like this, in the morning light, Dream’s body almost touching his, his light breathing in his ear.

 

And for the first time in his life Sapnap falls asleep next to Dream, and rests.

Notes:

Apologies for the late update. I'm in the middle of moving and I start work again on Monday so I might not be updating every day as things are really hectic. But! Rest assured, my lovelies, this fic continues on.

What did you think of the new chapter?

Chapter 11: Come and Kiss This Pain Away

Notes:

Hello hello this is later than expected but better late than never! Please enjoy more angst :)

Saudade

noun

 

(especially with reference to songs or poetry) a feeling of longing, or melancholy, or nostalgia to be near something or someone that is distant, or that has been loved and then lost; “the love that remains”.

 

People are not poetry.

 

Sapnap learned this very hard lesson first hand.

 

When he wakes Dream is still asleep. His eyelashes flutter and his eyes move under the eyelids. He must be dreaming because his lips move too, little groans and hums escaping them every now and then. The bags under his eyes are more prominent than ever.

 

Sapnap doesn’t wake him. He doesn’t have the heart to, not when he’s finally sleeping.

 

He stumbles out of bed, grabbing only his phone, and quietly creeps through the room, shutting the door behind him.

 

His phone tells him it’s past four already, which shouldn’t be entirely surprising.

 

All of a sudden his stomach rumbles and he’s reminded why he woke up in the first place. Blindly, still practically half asleep, he somehow makes it down the stairs. His eyes sting so he rubs them when he enters the kitchen, his bare feet slamming on marble echoing through the silent house.

 

He’s just about to round the table when he walks, full force, into the edge of the table, the corner digging painfully into his side.

 

“Ow! Motherfuck-“ He curses loudly, very awake now, and rubs his side tenderly. The air has been stolen from his lungs so he has to breathe in short bursts through clenched teeth to somehow mitigate the pain.

 

“Are you okay?” George asks, amused, from the doorway.

 

Sapnap squints at him through blearily eyes. “Yes.”

 

“How did you do that?”

 

“You see the table?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“I didn’t.” Sapnap grumbles and holds his side. There’s going to be a bruise, no doubt.

 

Suddenly his head jerks up, eyes finding George’s, and he freezes. He hadn’t seen George in over two weeks now, not face to face, and they have been talking online but…

 

He looks the same as he always had. His hair seems longer, or maybe it’s because it’s messier than normal. The stubble lining his chin is thicker than he had ever seen it. George is still wearing pyjamas – those really obnoxious bright red ones that he insist on still wearing despite the fact that they’re practically rags at this point.

 

George seems to realize the predicament they are in at the same time, because he doesn’t move, one arm in the air as if he was meaning to brush his hair back.

 

His mouth is parted slightly, in shock or what is hard to tell. His eyes are wide.

 

“Uh… hey.” Sapnap waves out of sheer awkwardness.

 

Fuck he’s so embarrassing who the fuck waves?

 

“Hi.” George waves back. The right side of his mouth quirks up, the way it does sometimes when he’s amused. Sapnap didn’t have a chance to look at George, and really look at him in weeks.

 

He’s still just as handsome as ever.

 

“Did you just wake up?” George asks, voice dripping with forced casualness in a way that really does not relax Sapnap. But he has a mission to accomplish and that is satiate his rumbling stomach.

 

He’s a little nauseated with how hungry he is.

 

“Yeah.” He says slowly, looking for any kind of trap in George. But George isn’t even looking at him when he passes by him and reaches for a glass of water.

 

So Sapnap decides he will pay him no heed either, even if his hands are trembling and his heart is palpitating.

 

“Is Dream still asleep?” George asks, again with that forced calamity.

 

There may be a trap here, Sapnap thinks. He can lie and say he doesn’t know just to avoid George’s anger.

 

He’s so tired of lying.

 

“Yeah, he is.” Sapnap opens the fridge and starts piling eggs, bacon, toast and anything else he can find, on the counter.

 

He’s starving.

 

“Good.” George nods. His back is turned to Sapnap as he sips on the water so Sapnap can’t really judge how honest his words are. “He hasn’t been sleeping well.”

 

“I don’t think any of us have.” Sapnap says and gets out a frying pan. He’s fucked up eggs before, monumentally, but he’s learned his lesson.

 

Probably.

 

Maybe.

 

“Sap…” George starts but Sapnap isn’t looking at him, too preoccupied with not burning the butter while simultaneously frying the bacon. “I… I don’t know what to… to do.”

 

“With what?” With the heat turned down the butter isn’t bubbling, but if it’s turned up, it will go brown. A true mystery. Sapnap opts to leave the gas in the middle, but when he cracks an egg onto the pan, it doesn’t really fizzle like it does when Dream does it.

 

Huh.

 

“With us.”

 

“What is there to do?” Why in the name of hell is the egg not fizzling? It should be bubbling, right?

 

“I don’t know.” George mumbles sadly. “I can’t keep living like this. Avoiding you, avoiding Dream… I just… I want…”

 

“What do you want, George?” Sapnap whips around, spatula in one hand and the other covered in egg. “Because I know what I want, I know what Dream wants, but you have opted out of saying anything about anything this whole time! So tell me, George, what is it that you want from me?”

 

George’s eyes are shiny with tears. His voice is raw. “You! I want you, dumbass.”

 

“You have a funny way of showing it.” Sapnap snaps and makes to turn back to his eggs, but George is in front of him in an instant, hands flying up as if he wants to touch, to hold, but thinks better of it. His arms flop to the side uselessly. His eyes are wide, wild when they search Sapnap’s.

 

“Sapnap, I…”

 

“After all this time,” They’re close enough to each other that Sapnap can almost feel the way George’s chest rises and falls with each rapid breath, “You still can’t even say sorry.”

 

George looks like he’s been struck. He takes a step back, a small one, before he’s right where he was, determination on his face despite the tears building in his eyes.

 

His lip wobbles.

 

Sapnap wants to kiss it.

 

“You know I…”

 

“George.” Sapnap cuts him off, voice laced with sadness. He runs a hand through his hair, smearing egg whites in it, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. “You lied to me. Over and over and over again and I, the fucking idiot that I am, believed you. There’s nothing you can say that will ever-“

 

“I’m sorry.” The first tears leak out of George’s eyes. The words are quiet, but not any less audible than they would have been if George had yelled them.

 

Sapnap stands there, rooted in place, awfully reminiscent of when George had him pinned against the very same counter all those weeks ago and called him pathetic.

 

Now George is breathing raggedly in front of him, fingers still twitching by his side, looking more dishevelled than he has ever seen him.

 

And his brain is short-circuiting. George said he’s sorry? Did he go through the fucking looking glass?

 

He can’t look George in the eyes, but they’re all he can think about. He memorized his face as if it’s his mirror, or a prayer that needs to be said every night. He will forget his own name before he will forget George’s.

 

“I didn’t want to fall in love.” George says wetly. His voice shakes. “Not at all. But at some point you smiled, and, holy shit, I blew it.”

 

There’s a second of pause, as if the whole world stops spinning and it’s just them – two idiots in the kitchen on a mildly sunny afternoon, tears in their eyes and egg in their hair.

 

There are too many emotions in Sapnap’s chest to decipher, to figure out what he wants to do.

 

Relief, anger, sadness, love. They’re one and the same as they squeeze his chest painfully and don’t let go.

 

“George.” He breathes, like a prayer, like a mantra, and suddenly all he can see is George’s eyes, his beautiful chocolate eyes that remind him of home.

 

George smiles. “Nick.”

 

“How… how can I trust that?” Sapnap whispers and when he squeezes his eyes the first tear slowly makes its way down his cheek. “I thought I was getting better, I honestly did. But sometimes I lie in bed at three in the morning, trying to figure out what the fuck is wrong me and why I’m never enough.”

 

George opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out.

 

There’s a lot that needs to be said, still. Sapnap runs a hand over his face to get rid of the treacherous tears. “How can I trust your love? I am still the same exact Sapnap that you called pathetic and a dog and I can’t… What’s changed? How will you remember?”

 

“That I love you?” His words tremble.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Easy.” George shrugs with a smile on his face, but it’s wrong, twisted in a way that betrays his pain. “I can’t help it.”

 

And well well well, if it isn’t the bridge that Sapnap said he’d cross when he came to it.

 

George is throwing his love in his face like it’s easy, like it had been there all this time.

 

“I love you.” Sapnap whispers, eyes meeting eyes. His own hands shake as he slowly twists them in George’s shirt, as if he’s scared he’ll leave. He doesn’t. George looks at him, full of hope and something else that Sapnap can’t quite name and right here, right now, they’re okay.

 

Good things aren’t made to last.

 

“I do, I really do.” Sapnap’s fingers twist in the fabric and pull in an attempt to do something so he’s not just standing there alone with his thoughts. “But I am afraid of making that love too important. Because you’re always going to leave me. We can’t deny it.” Sapnap laughs but it’s wet and there’s no humor, no joy behind his words. “You’re always going to leave.”

 

George’s hands come to encircle his own and hold them, tightly, to the point it’s almost painful but right now it feels grounding and Sapnap feels less like he’s falling. George is crying now too, tears streaking down his face as he holds Sapnap’s hands to his chest and shakes his head.

 

“You’re addicted to loneliness and desperation. It’s the strongest emotion you’ve ever known, so your subconscious tells you that it’s your destiny.”

 

“As if you’d know about emotions.” Sapnap spits and tries to free his hands, but the grip George has on his hands is iron.

 

“However this ends, I want you to know, that right here, right now, I love you forever.”

 

Sapnap yanks his hands out of George’s grip. He pushes on his chest firmly and George staggers back, shock on his face that he quickly blinks away. He’s no longer caged in and it feels like he can breathe.

 

“Fuck you, George.” Sapnap grits his teeth because the urge to lunge at George and strangle him is very strong. “Fuck you for leaving, fuck you for not saying this earlier and fuck you for saying this now. You’re a selfish dick, you know that? You made me fucking miserable for so long and you think that an I love you and I’m sorry is gonna fix things? This isn’t a fucking movie! You’re an asshole.”

 

Sapnap stands there, shaking. Strangely, he feels lighter, like a weight is off his shoulders, like setting down heavy bags after a long trek.

 

George looks a mess in front of him, snot mixing with tears, and he looks like he wants to leave but he stands his ground, looking at Sapnap pleadingly. Sapnap doesn’t have his salvation, doesn’t have anything left to give.

 

Filling George’s cup when his own his empty is no longer his responsibility.

 

Vulnerability is clumsy, but it’s the only thing worth anything.

 

“I know I’m a terrible person.” George says eventually, eyes on the floor and hands around himself as if he can chase away the sudden cold of the room. Sapnap doesn’t feel cold, he feels like he’s burning. “But I will always wait for you. I’m waiting for the evening calm, I’m waiting for our time, the oblique light, this pause between day and night. Surely, peace will come. But I can imagine no other peace than us all together, bound together, our gazes given over to each other – Sap, I have no other home but you.”

 

 

 

For a second Sapnap thought he would confess to some terrible crime, a murder maybe. But then the three of them might think that they’re all terrible people. But you only ever reveal these truths before asking someone to love you. A kind of undressing.

 

People think we look for love at our lowest to distract us. Sapnap is convinced we do it because we want someone to look us in the eye, to look our ugly in the eye and still choose us. He doesn’t want a distraction. He wants George to see him and still find him worthy of love, to tell him that he could still love him anyway.

 

If there is a part of Sapnap that survives this, it’s the part that loved George and Dream so fiercely. And if there is a part of him that dies, it is the very same one.

 

“You can’t… you can’t promise that.” Sapnap looks at George, eyes filled to the brim with pain, spoken and unspoken, and sees George – just a man in his socks and worn pyjama pants trying to hold himself together.

 

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.” George tries for humor but it lacks.

 

“I… I can’t.”

 

“What if everything only gets better from here on out?” George straightens, eyes glistening with tears and emotions and anger and love and Sapnap holds his breath. “What if everything works out for us and what if all our best days are still ahead of us? What if all our dreams come true?”

 

It sounds nice. It  sounds naïve.

 

“You’re angry.” George observes.

 

And that’s the final straw. “Of fucking course I’m angry! Do you have any idea how many times you guys should have helped me? How many times you fucked me over and hurt me and I couldn’t say no? Do you realize I went through sex without being able to say no to you because you’re too fucking blind and selfish to realize what you’re doing to anyone else?”

 

“You… you did what with sex?” George stutters, eyes wide, seemingly frozen on the spot. Horror strikes his face like thunder.

 

Sapnap can’t make himself say it again, not when George looks like he’s dying. “You heard me.”

 

“You… you wanted to say no?”

 

“Of course I did!” Sapnap snaps, rage twisting his stomach almost painfully. “You think I enjoy being fucking humiliated and degraded? Do you realize you called me a dog every time we had sex and you called Dream Dreamie? Do you have any fucking clue what you were doing?”

 

And George, for lack of a better word, looks like he’s about to faint. His face pales, ghostly white now, and he’s shaking like a leaf in a thunderstorm.

 

Outside the sun is shining and it feels strangely out of place.

 

“Sapnap, I…” George swallows and takes a step forward. Sapnap tries to take one back but his back digs into the counter, so he stops. “I never… Fuck, I never meant for it to… Oh my god and all this time… Sap, I’m so fucking sorry.”

 

Sapnap snorts, eyes glistening with tears. “You can’t expect a sorry to fix everything, George.”

 

“I know it won’t.” George sniffles loudly and wipes the snot from his nose again. “I can’t lose you.”

 

There’s a stone in Sapnap’s throat when he speaks next, the words wrong and painful. “Then how come you already have?”

 

They stand there, three feet apart but it might as well have been miles, crying silently, heart shattering on the floor. There’s something poetic about their shared pain. Nothing ever ends poetically.

 

People are not poetry.

 

It ends and we turn it into poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. It was just red.

 

The sadness in Sapnap’s body spills at the edges and he doesn’t know what to do with it. He’s already crying but it feels like he’s choking, and all he can focus on is George in front of him, shaking and doing his best to pretend he’s not crying.

 

And Sapnap doesn’t know what to do. A man takes his sadness and throws it in the river but then he’s still left with the river. A man takes his sadness and throws it away but he’s still left with his hands.

 

“This can’t be the end.” George breaks the silence and his voice is wrecked.

 

It all feels wrong. It’s all wrong and nothing’s right and it all feels like complete and utter shit.

 

“George-“

 

“No!” George stands in front of him once more, face red and blotchy, but determined all the same. “I am not letting you do this again, I am not letting you leave again! You can chose to go and that will be it, and we won’t be friends anymore or you can choose to stay and we can fight for this. Come on, we have to try, you can’t just give up, we can’t leave it like this!” His breathing is ragged.

 

“Don’t do this.” Sapnap begs because with the way George is looking at him, his knees are buckling.

 

“Sapnap, please.” George gathers his hands in his again, gently prying the spatula and setting it on the counter. He smiles wetly. “Please, don’t give up on us.”

 

And all Sapnap wants to do is believe him.

 

People are not poetry.

 

“I… I can’t trust you.” He’s still crying, words coming out choked and interrupted by sniffles.

 

“I know, I know.” George takes another step closer until they’re practically chest to chest, a hair width between their noses brushing. “Just give me a chance, please.”

 

Sapnap laughs. It’s a chuckle at first, but then he’s laughing hysterically, still crying when he does, and he thinks he finally may have lost his mind.

 

But George is laughing a little too, squeezing his hands tightly. He leans his forehead against Sapnap’s when they calm down, tears still flowing freely.

 

“I think we were meant to be but we did it wrong.” Sapnap says in between gasps for air and cries.

 

George laughs. “We can try again.”

 

“I’m scared.” Sapnap admits in a whisper. His eyes slip shut and he can feel George’s breath ghost his face. They’re standing so close, close enough to almost blend into one.

 

Maybe they always have been, three thirds of a whole, with Dream fitting in somewhere. Dream only briefly crosses his mind right now, though, because George drops his hands only to wrap his own around Sapnap’s waist. Loosely, at first, as if giving him time to pull away, to bail.

 

Sapnap doesn’t.

 

“You make me alive. Does it matter if it hurts?”

 

Sapnap supposes it doesn’t. George’s fingers dig into his waist and he’s pulled into George’s chest.

 

He cannot stop wondering if soulmates do exist, if they’re not found, but made. You were not made to fit in with someone else, you were made to be yourself and it’s up to you to choose who fits in with you and how they fit. You get to wake up everyday and choose to have the people you love the most belong with you and that makes it so much more meaningful than some random act of fate forcing you together.

 

Still, the world was made so that they could find each other in it.

 

“You guys made up.”

 

Sapnap jerks away from George and meets Dream’s eyes, wide and unblinking, as he stands there in the doorway. George’s hands fall away from his waist but only slightly, one hand still holding onto the small of his back.

 

“S-Something like that.” The very tips of George’s ears are red. Huh.

 

Dream raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. Instead he takes a few steps towards them, eyes drifting between the pair, until they finally settle on Sapnap. “You okay? Is he bothering you?”

 

Sapnap can’t help the easy chuckle that spills past his lips. “Yeah, he’s snotting all over my shirt.”

 

George has the audacity to look appalled, but the corners of his mouth are quirked upwards, giving him away. “How dare you.”

 

“There’s literally a booger in your nose right now.” Sapnap points to George’s nose and to his delight George’s cheeks burn a furious red as he wipes the booger away.

 

“Yeah? Well-“

 

“Do you smell burning?” Dream cuts George off before they can go at it.

 

Sapnap sniffs the air and yeah, now that Dream pointed it out there’s a distinct putrid smell in the air.

 

 A sudden realization strikes him. “Fuck.”

 

He whips around and snatches the pan off the heat but it’s too late, the damage is done. The eggs are burnt to a very unappetizing shade of brown, still sizzling at the edges and how wrapped up in each other must they have been to miss something burning behind them?

 

“You didn’t.” Dream gasps and snatches the pan from Sapnap’s hands, immediately setting it in the sink and scraping at the pan with a spatula. “This is my brand new solid Teflon pan, you dimwits.”

 

“They were Sap’s eggs.” George points an accusatory finger at Sapnap, a devilish smirk on his face.

 

Oh, the fucker is dead. “George distracted me!”

 

“Boys!” Dream looks at them over his shoulder, eyebrows raised. “No fighting in the kitchen. In fact, you’re both banished from using the kitchen or from touching any of my fancy kitchen shit until we do a refresher course on kitchen safety.”

 

After Sapnap recorded an only mildly embarrassing cooking video with Karl, Dream insisted on teaching him basic kitchen safety. The longest hour of his life.

 

If he has to spend another morning listening to Dream explaining why he shouldn’t run with knives then he’ll willingly run with a knife to put himself out of his misery.

 

“Oh, come on, Dream. It was an accident. We were making up.” Sapnap tries to go for innocent.

 

Dream is not impressed. “You’re demoted to toast and juice duty from now on. I will handle the stove, and you two get the plates.”

 

“You’re being a tad bit dramatic, Dream.”

 

“You think, George? Say it to my brand new fucking pan!”

 

“It’s just a pan and you’re a millionaire! Calm the fuck down!”

 

“It’s the principle, George. You’re both idiots who can’t be trusted with hot things. Plates, now, go.”

 

George and Sapnap share a knowing look as they start getting the plates. And it’s easy and familiar and it has something warm spreading through the tips of Sapnap’s fingers where his sadness would usually be.

 

It doesn’t quite reach his heart, it’s far too soon for that, but when Dream sprays George with whipped cream and smears jam on Sapnap’s face it comes close, closer than it had in weeks.

 

Should he have forgiven them? Perhaps not. But there’s no point in holding onto anger and pain when it’s rotting him from the inside out. He knows it’s not as easy as that. There are layers of insecurity upon layers of trauma upon layers of pain that he’s painfully self aware of.

 

But here, for now, it’s okay.

 

Sometimes human connection isn’t that complicated. Sometimes it’s just about stepping back and asking the other person what do I mean to you? What do you see in me? Why do you think we landed here?

 

Most people think that love follows some triumphant story line: You meet and you’re in love and everything unfolds according to plan. But love is just imperfect people, feeling their way in the dark together. Love is just calamity. You fall in love, and it turns out the people you’re with are deeply flawed. You fall in love, and it turns out you are deeply flawed. You think that means nothing is magical anymore, but it really means that the magic has just begun.

 

This is not the end of a love story. This is the very beginning.

Notes:

Perhaps someday I'll crawl back home, beaten, defeated. But not as long as I can make stories out of my heartbreak, beauty out of sorrow.

- Sylvia Plath

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Angst Collection