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George doesn't develop crushes easily; it's a pain, for one, to navigate feelings while balancing out schoolwork and exams and whatnot. He also knows that, realistically, most puppy love couples don't work out in high school and college. He'd much rather wait until he has a stable job, and then he can plan out his romantic adventures, and then he can settle down with his partner until their golden ages. Casual hookups aside.
Realistically, this wouldn't happen in that fashion. But it's nice to hope.
Unfortunately for George, however, by the time he catches up to his stupid, sprinting heart, he's surprised to find himself already falling for the annoyingly cute trainee the moment he introduces himself.
By trainee, he means trainee worker, and by that, he means he's been tasked with watching over Sapnap for a good two weeks, which is, in his opinion, kinda unnecessary for a part-time job at the college library-cum-cafe.
But orders are orders, even if they come from the librarian's annoying--they're friends--assistant. Besides, he's grown fond of the job, of the peaceful ambience of the library and the calm that settles into his skin every shift. It's barely even a chore at this point, and he thinks that he'd continue coming back here even when he's much older.
And ever since yesterday there's Sapnap, too, who he pointedly decides to think about no further. There are other coworkers turned friends, too, who make him think that he'll actually miss college and bad paying part-time jobs.
Despite himself, he eyes Sapnap from across the room, who's pushing back chairs. A model worker, truly. He'd just finished restocking the napkins and the little stack of recycled paper for orders and notes (read: doodles) at the counter, and it's an awfully lazy day, even more so than usual. The library is empty, save for a single straggler slouching in their seat as they stare down a book. They look like they're about to fall asleep, too, and while that's technically against the rules George doesn't really give a shit.
Hell, he falls asleep behind the counter sometimes.
He returns his attention back to his homework mournfully. English.
Choosing to ignore the rational voice in his head, he turns away from it, opting to make himself a drink instead. Hopping off the stool behind the counter, he wanders to the kitchen. It's really just a walled-off area with a sink, table, and a microwave. There are drawers with little cups and plates and tea-sized cutlery, but aside from all that, calling it a kitchen is a bit of stretch. It does have a fridge, though, and George is ready to classify anything with a fridge as a kitchen.
Either way, it gets the job done. It doesn't matter much, honestly, when all they serve are assorted biscuits and drinks. On Thursdays and weekends, they have overpriced cake from the bakery down the street.
Karl sits in a corner, giving George a noncommital wave as he enters, eyes glued to his phone. Tinny sounds of some mobile game reach him, and he rolls his eyes as he sets about making himself a hot chocolate. He makes an extra cup for Karl, out of the goodness of his heart, and hesitates over making one for Sapnap. Did the guy even like chocolate?
He boils enough hot water for another five drinks as he stirs condensed milk into his and Karl's cup, and on impulse, decides to take a trip over to the library side of the shop to give a cup of tea to Dream, the librarian's aide. The actual librarian, an aging woman in what must be late sixties, bless her heart, never shows up. Dream's decent enough at covering for her, oftentimes being even more efficient than she ever was. He's joked about simply replacing her when she retires, then felt bad, and apologized. At the very least, it's a sparkling addition alongside however many other accomplishments he's amassed in his college career. George doesn't really care to find out.
Humming, he finishes their drinks, and after receiving a happy you're the best, George, he carries his and Dream's mugs out, placing one carefully on the cluttered counter before bringing the other mug over to the library's counter.
Sapnap's nowhere in sight, he notes as he slides open the partition separating the cafe and the library. Manoeuvring past the tables, he makes his way to the counter, which is...empty. Huh. He peeks over the side just to be sure, and sure enough, there's no Dream hunched over or asleep.
Heading instead for the office at the back, he swings open the door, slamming it into Sapnap, who stumbles back with a yelp.
Colour blooming across his cheeks, he nearly drops the mug as he apologizes profusely, hand flying up in apology. It's a sheer miracle he doesn't spill the tea all across the floor. Sapnap laughs and tells him that it's okay, it's alright. Everyone hits someone with a door sometimes.
It's humiliating is what it is, he thinks.
"I made you tea," He offers weakly, placing the steaming mug on Dream's desk, like a peace offering for making a fool of himself in his office. Dream thanks him with a laugh and a sparkle in his eye.
The next, logical course of action is to leave the damn room and maybe finally get some homework done. He doesn't really want to look at Sapnap, doesn't really want to embarrass himself further, but his traitorous little mouth moves faster than his brain does, apparently, and he's out of the room seconds later as the embarrassment hits him full force again.
A mocha, please, Georgie, he had answered with a wink.
He speedwalks into the kitchen, wondering if Sapnap will torment him with forcing him to go back into the room.
He makes the drink in record time, nearly stepping on Karl as he reaches for the instant coffee mix. He swats his legs. He doesn't pay much attention, already knowing the recipe by sheer muscle memory, and he doesn't even register the little heart-shaped foam art until he's back outside Dream's office. He cringes as he knocks on the door, pushing it open gently and, oh.
Oh, no.
Sapnap and Dream jump apart, Dream's face pink as he stutters out a hello. Sapnap, mouth wet with saliva, merely smiles. His hair is messy and his lips are swollen, and he looks at George with lidded eyes, innocence painted on his expression despite it all. It twists something deep in George's gut as the silence stretches on, and he wishes he never came at all. Of course Sapnap would be into Dream, who's amazing and incredible and not George.
"Uh..." He grips the mug, unwilling to move past Sapnap to put it on the desk they were making out over seconds ago.
Dream clears his throat as he pulls his tie up around his neck, refusing to meet George's eyes.
George is fully aware that his face is somehow hotter than it was before, eyes flicking between Sapnap and Dream and Sapnap's shiny lips and the drink and Sapnap's tongue licking the--
"I've got your mocha." He says steadily, hoping the blank look he forces on hides his feelings. He's a little flustered, oddly crushed. "I...hope you like it."
Sapnap stands up to take it from him, their fingers brushing, and it sends a dizzying warmth through him. He thanks him with an equally warm smile and despite himself, he smiles back, and the little rational voice in his head is ready to jump off a building.
He bows a little as he backs out of the room, walking normally, casually, steadily back to the cafe counter. It's...a lot of emotions to work through, actually. His painful little crush still isn't dead, somehow, even as he knows now that he's got absolutely no chance.
He pushes it aside in favour of English comprehension and hot chocolate gone cold.
***
Another part of his job at the library is to shelve books, so he leaves Bad, a (nearly) full-time worker to tend to the cafe, in favour of ambling through the shelves with an arm full of books.
It's also a good way to lose himself within titles and numbers that blur together. It's not too bad to sort through, though: thank god for the colour-coded system, right?
Right.
He memorized the Dewey Decimal system after a week of putting books in the wrong places. Why would you use only yellow, green, blue and purple stickers? It's a hate crime against accessibility.
Humming, he shelves books and helps the occasional lost student to find a title. It's a little tedious, sure. But he doesn't quite mind, content to shelve books with minimal human interaction. He's not asocial. He'd just rather not make conservation or small talk, like when he has to work the counter on full days.
That is, of course, until Sapnap shows up with a stack of books he hugs to his chest. George feels himself warm under the collar a little, even with the air conditioning at full blast. (Un?)fortunately, it's not anger or irritation that settles in his chest when he looks at Sapnap, glowing and perfect even in a simple hoodie and jeans. Something else sinks deep in his bones, a fondness that really shouldn't be so prevalent for, like, day four of knowing him.
"Hey, George."
"What do you want," he says, eyes dipping down to his lips even as he does. It comes out rushed and quaky, something George typically doesn't do with his voice. It's weird, and he had to hold back the urge to clear his throat. His face burns when he makes eye contact with Sapnap, whose mouth quirks up in a knowing smirk. It's been forty-eight hours, and he still can't get the memory out of his head. It's torturous. "Do you need help with those?"
"Mm, though I was thinking you could teach me, actually," He says, shifting the stack in his hands. "Dream told me to ask you."
"Oh, really?" It comes out a little bitter, probably much more than he expected. George hasn't actually talked to Dream at all since yesterday. Not on purpose, of course. They just don't text much--they have near nothing in common, aside from working at the library and playing Minecraft. They're in a few group chats, but. They're just not too close, so it's a little surprising. Especially since he's sure Dream could teach him himself, considering--
George gives Sapnap a smile as he hums agreement again. He is meant to show Sapnap the ropes, after all. And it's a chance to hang out, in a way. His resolve is a weak little thing as it crumbles, any excuse of simply getting someone else to do this emptying out his ears.
He leads Sapnap around the books, starting from the fictional section, to the non-fiction and magazines. At some point he places his stack down to flip an upside-down title, and when he turns back to get it, Sapnap has added it to his pile instead, smiling cheerily at him. He doesn't comment on it, at a loss of what to say. It's a sweet gesture, but the memory of the kiss with Dream taints the mushy feeling sour.
Finally, Sapnap's hands are empty of books, and they're in the shadow of a metal rack, conveniently hiding them from the rest of the library. George is about to walk to the front counter and begin explaining the borrowing system when fingers close around his wrist with a quick hold on a sec. George whips around, breath caught in his throat as Sapnap pulls him behind the shelf. He freezes, staring at him.
A hand comes up to brush against his face. He feels the featherlight drag of knuckles across the top of his cheekbone, and it lasts an eternity, Sapnap's face serious and focused as he leans in.
He tucks a strand of hair behind George's ear and straightens.
George barely catches a there was something on your face, sorry! before Sapnap is already walking away, and maybe he's walking fast or maybe George's grip on time and space and everything around him is shaken and he's been stock-still for a minute since whatever the fuck that was.
He backs up against cool metal, bringing hands to cup his cheeks. The cold shock of it permeates his shirt, and his equally icy hands seem to steam off his face. His cheeks have become hotter than a car left out in afternoon sun, too. So it's definitely just the great temperature imbalance that makes him whine into his palms.
Nothing else.
***
Sapnap must be a sadistic freak, or an oblivious fucking idiot, because there's no way he doesn't know what he's doing to George's poor, overworked heart. He suffers through two fucking weeks of Sapnap being overly hot and overly friendly, and he lies in bed and sits in class and walks home and eats all while thinking about it all. He keeps Sapnap off his mind when he's with friends, most of the time. It's ridiculous, really. He's just a stupid, unattainable, crush. But it consumes George wholly, every waking hour filled with thoughts of Sapnap, of looking forward to the afterschool library shifts. When he doesn't have to go to the library, he goes home and rushes through schoolwork, coding, and plays games.
And then, he thinks of Sapnap during the night and wonders unforgivable thoughts.
He talks to Dream and his friends like nothing is amiss, of course, and Dream doesn't bring it up. He looks different at George, however, a glint of something he can never quite make out. He's always smiling, though. It's a little annoying, and even though he's always somewhat liked Dream, he finds himself childishly irked by his presence at times.
It's stupid.
He's stupid for crushing, for starting this obsessive infatuation.
At least he knows more about him, though: he likes Minecraft, too, as any friend of Dream seems to do. He prefers CS:GO, which is great, and he plays with George once or twice, who definitely isn't "sweaty" when he teams with Sapnap. He's not. He doesn't enjoy reading, which is weird for someone who works at a library, but George doesn't pay it much mind. Considering how close he is with Dream, it makes sense that he'd sign up just to spend more time with him.
Speaking of which. He's seen Sapnap slip into the damn office with Dream almost everyday at some point of George's shift, and every day he makes a great effort to never even go near them. It's almost like--it's almost intentional, really, which brings him back to Sapnap and his probable sadism. Not that George thinks Sapnap's a dick--quite the contrary, actually, because Sapnap is kind and goes out of his way to please, goes out of his way to help George carry drinks, helps him to wipe down tables and helps him to wash the dishes, which he hates.
He's even taken to flattering George's ego, perhaps unintentionally, but he asks for help with homework every now and then, thanking and praising him for being so kind and so smart, it makes George stammer his words in a futile attempt to stop from saying something he'll regret.
So you can understand why George's crush doesn't actually die down at all, even with the Dream Office Trips Sapnap regularly makes.
It's the fifteenth day of knowing and liking Sapnap too much when they both end up truly alone together. After an unnaturally busy day, George offers to help close up the cafe that evening. He's tired, sure, but the way Karl shoots him a grateful thanks as he rushes off kinda makes up for it.
(It's a dinner date, George is sure. Karl's nails are freshly painted, his hair is properly combed, he's sporting a pretty, colourful shirt, and he glows with excitement all throughout their shift. Most damningly of all, he asks George if he looks good, if, let's say, he was hypothetically going on a date. If he was going to meet a cute boy for dinner. Hypothetically. George's no genius, but it's a little obvious, even to him.)
Dream leaves early too, and Sapnap leaves his office after him with jangling keys. He wipes down the cafe tables as Sapnap sweeps dust off the floor, and when he finishes he locks the cafe doors and turns off the lights. He hovers behind Sapnap as he shelves books, refusing to let George do it. He does it perfectly, too, sending pride curling around George's ears, knowing that he taught him how to do it. Sapnap beams at him.
It's stunningly quiet as Sapnap goes over all the tables and George shoulders his things, waiting for him to leave. He scoffs as Sapnap plops onto the floor instead, proclaiming that he's tired, and the floor is nice, so just give him a minute. A minute passes as George checks his phone--it's seven-something now, and the sky is beginning to darken. Sapnap doesn't get up, the tiled floor of the library supposedly too good to resist.
George turns off most of the switches, leaving a light near the entrance on for them. The room is still cool, naturally, after a full day of being air-conditioned. He checks for the closed sign outside the door and dumps his bag next to Sapnap. The air is thick with treacle, he thinks, but he finds himself pushing through it to lie next to Sapnap on the floor.
It's dirty, maybe, but he's tired and not making the best decisions. So he settles on the cold tile and watches the light from slanted windows dim. Sapnap starts talking, aimless rambling about some show he watched and George listens, interjects when appropriate and hums even though he has no idea what he's talking about. Sapnap's voice seeps through his pores, calming and slightly rough; it's not a bad kind of coarse, though, and it rubs away at the sharp edges of George's mind, letting him bask in a hazy, navy blue evening-night.
He's picking away at gathered sand on the gaps between the tile when Sapnap trails off into silence, sitting up abruptly. George tracks the movement, watches as he props himself up on his arms. Something hangs heavy in his throat, and he realizes that even if he'd never be able to kiss Sapnap the way Dream does, he'd be content to be his friend. Even if it means he has to suffocate whatever un-friendship-feelings he has, even if it means he has to hold himself back from blurting out his confession. He swallows it down as Sapnap looks at him curiously, eyebrow quirked.
"We're the only people in the library right now," Sapnap drawls. George pushes himself up in favour of tucking his knees to his chest.
"...okay, and?" He scratches the denim of his jeans. What does he say?
An astute observation, Sapnap! or You're right. Let's kiss.
He's too tired for snark--the other was never an option.
Sapnap laughs regardless, and it's a sound like glowing embers left in a fireplace. George finds himself catching alight, smiling lopsided as he bites the inside of his cheek.
You know, for someone who's so smart, you can be a real dumbass."
"Wha--I'm not a dumbass, dumbass."
"Then why aren't you making moves?"
What?
Sapnap has turned to look at him, now, a tilt to his head and a lilt in his voice. He eyes George like he knows, like he knows everything immoral George has ever thought about him.
"Come on, George. You really think I don't know about your little crush?" George is frozen in place as Sapnap comes ever closer, hand coming up to nudge his crossed arms. He lets him push it away, lets him come even closer than before.
He thinks of Dream, though, and despite how much he fucking craves for Sapnap, he's not a dick. He backs away, inches towards the counter, heart clenching at the disappointed--nearly hurt--look Sapnap gives him.
"Don't do that," he breathes, allowing the secondhand hurt he knows Dream will feel to merge with his own, of being given false hope, of being teased and toyed with. "Don't--Don't fucking try that with me."
Sapnap actually looks surprised, now, his eyes wide. He's a quick thinker, though, able to read George's mind, so he catches on quickly.
"Is it because I kissed Dream?" He asks, quiet. That stupid, playful lift in his voice is back, and George glares at him. "Oh, George."
He comes closer, and George inches back until he hits the wood of the counter. Sapnap comes closer, and closer, and George can't bring his hands up to push him away or stop him. He's nearly straddling George by now, knees on either side of his own, one arm by the side of George's hip to hold himself up.
"Sapnap," He warns. One hand on his jaw, he swipes a finger across his chin, right below his bottom lip. It leaves a sizzling trail, red hot burns stretched across his skin. It's a staggering attack on his confidence, and it shows in the way he nearly chokes on his words after it. "I--I wouldn't do that, if I were you."
It comes out weak and downright pathetic, but it does the trick as Sapnap pulls back, orange light dancing in his eyes. There's a frustrated edge to his voice when he speaks:
"George. Why don't you just take what you want, yeah?"
He settles onto George's thighs, and it takes all of his self-control to not wrap his hands around his waist as a result. It's terribly inviting, especially as Sapnap breath mingles with his own. Instead, he turns his head to the side, refusing to answer to the glow of Sapnap's gaze.
"Don't-don't try anything with me. I'm not that kind of person." George finally brings himself to push Sapnap away, but his hand remains cupped on his face.
"George. George, hey. Look at me."
He doesn't, and Sapnap makes some irritated, low noise.
The grip on his jaw hardens, suddenly, and George stutters on a gasp as Sapnap turns his face to him. "Fucking--look at me, dude."
It's cruel, how his head spins with desire when it so clearly goes against his morals. Sapnap's hand pulls away.
"God." George risks a glance at the other man, who presses his lips together, hands rubbing at his arms.
"I'm not with Dream, stupid." He sighs, and the whiplash of it sends George careening. "I just...I just wanted you jealous, but you're kind of a pussy."
For a second, George feels--angry. Pissed off and rightfully so, because-because two fucking weeks is a long while to pretend and it's been hard on him. Yet he can't bring himself to really be angry, not when Sapnap is, well. In his lap, and looking almost sheepish. Relief crashes over his initial inner turmoil, sweeps away the guilt. He brushes off that last part of him being a pussy, because he's not. Just considerate. "You're not kidding?"
Sapnap snickers a little at that, part nervous and part...relief, breathy and fluttering. George supposes he understands.
"No, I'm not kidding. I'm sorry for lying, and stuff, but Dream's really just a friend--my best friend." Sapnap huffs, cheeks turning crimson. "A-and you're not a pussy, either, I just--I was just saying shit. I thought if we could make you jealous, you'd just, uh, speed things up."
"Not that it worked. Man, I'm sorry, again, for like, messing with you, and if you don't really want to make out or anything now that's totally fine, I can just get off. L-like get off you, not get off, like..."
Sapnap stops, face fully aflame. George laughs at him, then, and it's nice to see Sapnap the flustered one for a change. A little niggling voice complains that he gives into the other man too easily, and George easily ignores it.
"I'm...not really mad," George says, cautiously placing a hand on Sapnap's arm. He works fingers to interlock with his own, and it's Sapnap's turn to look at him shyly.
"You're not? Like, you're okay?" He asks, wary.
"Okay, no, I mean...I was mad, but you're..." George trails off, looks Sapnap up and down slowly. Has the man forgotten that he's literally sitting in his lap? "You're forgiven."
Mischevious light creeps into his eyes immediately, and George grins despite himself. It's ridiculous, what Sapnap does to him.
"So...hypothetically. If we were to kiss...would you be okay with that?"
"That depends," George says, even as he drifts closer to Sapnap's mouth. "No more kissing other people to make me jealous?"
"No more," Sapnap agrees, and then he shuts his eyes and leans in.
It's sweet, lips on lips. George thinks his may be a little chapped, but he doesn't think Sapnap minds too much, if at all.
"You're still an asshole, by the way," George says when they pull apart. "So--what, Dream let you make out with him? Just for that?"
"More than that, actually." George's eyes widen, eyes flicking down to--he's not admitting it. Sapnap catches the action and snickers. "Not in that way. He just pulled strings for me to get this job, and, ah, other convenient, library-related matters."
George frowns. But that would...that would mean...
"Wait, so you took the part-time because of...me?" Sapnap hums, carefully avoiding his accusing gawk. If George didn't know better, he'd call him embarrassed. "And I'm the dumbass? You could have just--I dunno, told me! That's so stupid."
More and more pieces click, like a shitty magnet finally being nudged closer.
"So that's why we have all the same shifts!"
"Yeah."
"Wait, so you'd hang out with him to make me jealous?"
"Mm-hm."
"What about--"
Sapnap hums in agreement through it all, places gentle kisses to his cheek and nose and anywhere he can reach. It's very sweet, actually, and George lets himself melt into it in between his recollection of the past fourteen days.
And you're telling me I never noticed you might have liked me back," He finishes, thumping his head against the counter. Sapnap gives him a kiss below his jaw. "Even though you've noticed me as Dream's friend even before we met."
"Yup."
"Maybe I am an idiot."
"Yup," Sapnap says, pulling away. "Would you like to be mine?"
It takes George a minute to process it, and when it does, it slams into him akin to a brick through a window. "What?"
"My--uh, my idiot." Sapnap winces as he says it, and, yeah, wow.
"That's so--that's the line you're going with?" George faux groans, more endeared than anything. "That's the cringiest line I've ever heard, Sapnap. But--but okay. Sure. I'll be your idiot."
"Look who's the cringy one now, dick," Sapnap goes in for a kiss again, and George indulges him. Their laughter dies out eventually, and George rests his forehead against Sapnap's. He's got school tomorrow; they both do.
For now, though, he's content to sit with Sapnap--his boyfriend--on the cool library floor.
Maybe, the rational voice in his head muses, maybe things will work out here.