Just One Night // DNF

11 - Splintered Plans

-All George could hear was the sound of waves crashing on the shore and his brain screaming at him to just kiss him. So with shaky hands, his fingertips brushed Dream's bottom lip.-

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Tuesday went by fast. Classes were normal, easy if anything. It was still sort of an adjustment to the new classes so most teachers didn't do much to any work. This also meant no homework, except getting syllabuses signed by Friday. 

Lunch was normal. Sort of. Dream and George didn't acknowledge the moment in the kitchen from yesterday, neither did they talk with each other much. There was the usual greetings, and George couldn't help but give Dream another pack of fruit snacks since he didn't have lunch.

In their shared science class, they wrote small notes in George's notebook while the teacher went through past review work. In other words, it was just a sort of eventless day. Hopefully, it'll stay that way.

Now, it was after school and George was searching the back storage room for Dream's gear and jersey that he didn't give him yesterday. The team was finished changing and were already filed out into the field for their usual warmup drills.

"Where is it?" George grumbled to himself, crouching down to pull open a red plastic bin that just held extra footballs. He groaned out of frustration and shoved the box back where it came from. 

"A little birdie told me I'd find you in here." A familiar voice called from behind George. The brunet looked over his shoulder and stood up straight, turning to fully face Dream. "Did you need something?" George asked, brushing a loose strand of hair from his eyes. 

Dream shrugged, "Yeah, but it seems like you're already on it." He said. George crossed his arms and tapped the toe of his shoe into the concrete floor. "Yeah, Coach forgot where he put it." George huffed, trying to die down his irritation. Sweat peppered the back of his neck and forehead. God, it's so hot in here.

"Just go back to the field, I'll come get you when I find it," George says, turning back around and scanning the boxes he hasn't searched. Only a few remained and they were all too high up for him to get. Of course, they were. 

Geroge reached up, pressing onto his tippy toes to reach a box on the top shelf. His fingertips barely brush the plastic, and a huff escapes his lips as he stretches further. That's when he felt someone lean over his back and familiar arms came into view.

"You're so short." Dream laughs, grabbing the box from the top shelf and placing it on the floor. George rolls his eyes, "No I'm not, you're just uncharacteristically tall." He defends. Dream shrugs and tilts his chin down to look at George, and in a way, it seemed he did it noticeably on purpose to prove his point.

George turns around, bumping his chest with Dreams. The heat coming off the other was smothering, especially in Florida summer weather. George tears his gaze from Dream's and tapes a step around him, freeing him from being pinned to the shelf.

"I hope it's in this one," George grumbles, crouching down to pop open the lid. He lets out some sort of relieved noise as he stars at the folded jersey and padding in the container. "Is that mine?" Drema asks, peering over George's shoulder to look, "Number 1, huh?" 

George reached into the box and took out the jersey, Dave's old spare. They let him keep his jersey as a parting gift at the end of the year last year. "Yup. It's all yours Mr. Quarterback." George said, tossing the piece of clothing at Dream.

"Feel's weird being one of the biggest players when I just joined the team." Dream hums. George shrugs and sifts through the box to make sure everything's in there. "We needed one. Besides, you're good." George said, standing up after verifying it's all there.