Arabesque

Frappé

TW: homophobia, injury, panic attack.

Well. This has been coming for a bit now. @homiesexual, you've finally gotten what I've told you you're getting.

Also double update! Hope you enjoy my poor attempt at writing, loves. <4

—

Dreamboat 💞🛥: i might be a couple mins late to pick you up but ill be there ! ❤️

Georgenotfound: np I can walk, bet I can beat u there

Georgenotfound: stop sending me hearts, idiot

Dreamboat 💞🛥: im going to be driving how do you expect to beat me there LMAO

Dreamboat 💞🛥: and no, never ❤️💚

Georgenotfound: alright I'm leaving gotta beat u there stupid bye

Dreamboat 💞🛥: cya there love you ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Read at 8:17 AM.

George grinned down at his screen for a moment, pulling on his sneakers. He'd spent almost a full minute — as looking at the clock revealed it was 8:18 AM — rereading that simple set of messages. The routine they'd fallen into for transportation was one that had been benefitting George quite nicely. Picked up and dropped off by Dream at the studio turned out to be a good way to get to know the taller, and get to a point of being comfortable in which he no longer stammered on replies to his oft flirtatious remarks. It didn't hurt that he got to see that gorgeous view first thing in the morning either.

George recalled a short, mid-work conversation he'd held with Sapnap the day before, smirking at the memory.

-

"Dude, he totally likes you."

"Stop messing with me, simpnap, or I'll slapnap you."

Sapnap's eyes narrowed as George bent over at the waist to tie his shoe, seemingly a bit envious at George's easy flexibility.

"Have any more of those nicknames to get out of your system? Huh?"

"Uh oh, somebody's about to snapnap."

"Okay. Wow. Alright. Anyway, he does actually like you! I swear. Dream won't stop talking about," Sapnap pitched his voice lower, imitating Dream. "'oh, Sap, he's so cute and funny and good at dancing and smart and' blah blah blah. If I have to listen to another minute of that blasphemy our truce is off, Georgie."

"Don't call me that," he paused, struggling both to find proper words to express his seriousness and to also comprehend Sapnap's rant. "you better not be joking, Sap. Seriously."

Sapnap rose from where he was languidly lying across the couch of the otherwise empty lobby, sitting up to look at the Brit.

"'M dead serious, George. He likes you. Loves, even." With that, his gaze flickered over to the window. "Look, he even pulled up for you. I only do that for Rose. He's so into you."

"Or maybe you're just a jerk. Jerknap." George flicked his fingers against the Texan's forehead, earning an indignant cry. "Bye!"

"Yeah, you better run!"

-

With the surprise for Dream he'd stuffed into his duffel bag, his ballet shoes weren't really able to fit without cramming them into the little space available; something he didn't really want to subject his shoes to. With a gentle hand he tied them loosely to his duffel bag strap, smiling like a toddler unleashed in Hamleys. He checked for his keys and his phone— nothing was going to ruin this day for him. A nervous half-giggle escaped him. This had the potential to be the very best day ever; or the very worst.