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There is no room more crowded than this one right here. Parents wrangle children around, trying to keep them in reach while they scold the children and attempt to correct their manners before it all goes down. A table rests on the far end of the room, that stands before a door that’s currently closed shut.
Sapnap, a man in his mid-twenties who looks both too young and old for his age, stands beside the entrance with a book held tightly in his fingers. He looks around, struggling to see above the heads of people taller than him, and avoids kicking down kids half his height and being scolded by their parents.
In around 10 minutes, the famous young-adult author, “Dream”, will show up, and everyone here will be lining up– fighting– for his signature on their versions of his newest novel “how to be a pirate”. For the next few hours, “Dream” will be signing books and answering questions from children one at a time, and it’s one of the biggest events at this specific venue.
In all honesty, Sapnap would rather be home.
So why is Sapnap here?
It just happens that Sapnap has a son. Theo, to be exact. And Theo just happens to be one of the biggest fans of Dream that Sapnap has even seen, even standing in this room right here.
When his son told him about this event, though, Sapnap was initially not in favor of it.
“There will be too many people there, honey,” Sapnap said, as he helped Theo with drying his hair before bedtime. “I’m not sure that I can keep you safe, Theo. You’ve never seen that many people in one room.”
“I’ve been to the… the big rooms where everyone in my grade goes every Monday.” His son retorted while he swung his legs under the stool that is still a little bit too tall for him. “Daddy, I promise I’ll be nice.”
“Theo,” Sapnap pretended to pull up a stern voice, enough to make his son just a little bit compliant, because if he didn’t, a yelling child at 9:30 in the night isn’t something that he wants to deal with. “I know you’ll be the best boy in the venue. I don’t doubt that. But there’s going to be a lot of people, and a lot of people means there will be people sneezing or coughing on you, and what does people sneezing and coughing on you mean?”
“It means I will get sick, daddy.” Theo’s voice became slightly quieter.
Theo is the best boy Sapnap’s ever known. Ever since Theo’s memory, he has been only living with Sapnap, and his mother was a distant figure that, to Theo, was only a character in Sapnap’s words. Theo is gentle, kind, and understanding of his father. Whatever Sapnap says, he’ll listen; that simple little fact about him breaks Sapnap’s heart in more ways than one, because every single time Theo’s voice softens, Sapnap wonders if he could’ve given more to his son.
“But I still wanna go.” Theo’s eyes search for the bathroom tiles. Sapnap’s heart broke.
“What do you want from the event, honey?” Sapnap rested his hands on Theo’s shoulder, gently holding up his son so he didn’t fall off the stool from leaning forwards. “The author’s name on your book cover? Or to tell them something?”
“His name is Dream!” Theo’s eyes glowed with enthusiasm as soon as Sapnap mentions the author, and stopped trying to stop Theo from going completely. “He is a pirate, daddy! I want to meet a pirate.”
The man laughed, soundlessly, afraid to be heard by his seven year old. “Theo, I don’t think he’s an actual pirate. Pirates don’t write stories, remember? They ride boats around seas and fight for gold coins.”
“No,” Theo pouted. “Dream is a cool pirate!”
“Okay, okay,” Sapnap sighed out of pure endearment of his son. “Honey, let’s make a compromise.”
“Yeah! Com-pro-dise!” Theo said, throwing his hands up and almost hitting Sapnap in the face. Clearly, he didn’t know what the word meant, but the enthusiasm made it almost impossible for Sapnap to try and correct him.
“Okay, so,” he cleared his throat. “What if I went to the thing for you, and got you a signature and had this Mr. Pirate talk to the phone, so you can have it always with you. We can build the voice recording into a bear on your next birthday. Is that okay?”
And that’s why Sapnap’s there. On a Sunday morning, with a children’s book in his hands, looking incredibly lost amongst a sea of passionate children.
Not bringing Theo is a good idea, because out of all these thousands of people, Sapnap can definitely pick out at least 2 pairs of parents who are definitely anti-vax (with pins and stickers on their bags declaring that they are pridefully so) and at least 8 coughing children who look like they’re beyond choking on their own spit. Sapnap regrets not wearing a mask.
When the final 10 minutes are finally up, the people waiting are all rushed into a rather squiggly line, with Sapnap roughly being the 15th in line, counting from the end. The crowd cheers all around him; children’s screeches fill his ears like the solidification of enthusiasm. Sapnap regrets not bringing a better pair of headphones.
He looks past the heads and shoulders of people before him, and from the corner of his eye, he catches a man that shines with a bright bronze under the sunlight. The man waves at the crowd for a brief moment as he sits behind the desk placed yards before Sapnap.
That’s Dream. The “pirate” that Theo begged so hard to talk to.
No matter how hard Sapnap tries, he cannot see any bit of “piracy” in that man’s demeanor. Whether it’s how he signed books, talked to children, or smiled with his eyes, Sapnap could only see a regular man in him, albeit a handsome one. Even though Dream is wearing a facemask for the most part, Sapnap can see how he smiles when he talks to kids, and how he lowers his head to meet the children’s eyes. Dream would, occasionally, run his fingers through golden brown curls just to have them stuck in those rings that he wears, and he would keep his hand on his head until the kid that he’s currently talking to walks away before wincing and trying to untangle whatever’s going on there.
In anything shorter than that, Sapnap is more than just intrigued about what this “Dream” guy is up to.
In about one and a half hours, it finally approaches Sapnap’s turn. Dream’s just about finishing his speech to the kid that stands before Sapnap.
“...remember, there might not be real fairies, but you’ll never know unless you imagine.” The author caps his sharpie, laying it down besides his hand as he leans forward to high-five the girl in front of the desk. She raises her tiptoes to have his palm meet Dream’s and both of them smile at each other like rays of sunshine. “I look forward to seeing your works, Edith. You got to send me a book when you do it.”
“Promise you won’t make fun of me?” The girl pouts.
“Oh, I’ll never,” Dream replies, instantly. The tone of his voice reminds Sapnap of molten marshmallows. He’s exactly the kind of man who Sapnap imagines to be good with children, almost like a box of candy that can immediately calm a crying child. “There are people out there who will make fun of you for everything you do, Edith. I was once made fun of, when I first started writing. But I won’t ever make fun of you, because I know that what you write came from your heart.” Dream finishes, as he puts his hand on his own chest, signaling to Edith. The girl seems to understand, and nods before smiling again to his parents. The two women that stand besides the girl nod to both the girl and Dream, as they walk away together, hand in hand.
A man besides Dream signals to Sapnap to come forward, and Sapnap scrambles to the table.
“Hello,” Dream’s eyes widen the second that they meet eyes, but then switches back to the soft, loving demeanor that he wore just a second before. “I’m Dream.”
“Oh, hi. My son, Theo, really likes your stories, but unfortunately he can’t come today.” Sapnap finds himself scrambling for words, slightly, and he thinks it’s just because he’s never been to an event like this, or because he doesn’t want to mess it up, for Theo. Truthfully, it might just be because he’s nervous to speak to a man with such a beautiful demeanor that he might have just lost his mind momentarily there. “Can you say something to him, but in a recording? Um, and also, sign the book?”
The man standing besides Dream, supposedly a bodyguard of a kind, raises his hand, about to step into the conversation. But, before he could say something, Dream cuts in.
“Well, technically you’re not allowed to record here,” the author reaches for the book in Sapnap’s hand. “But if I say it into my phone, and if I airdropped it to you when this is done…” He flips open the cover art and signs his name with a black sharpie.
Dream’s handwriting reminds Sapnap of a stream of imagination; he writes his name as if he’s writing a version of his own mind, letting the letters fly across the page. He adds a little message to the end of his name that Sapnap can’t exactly read, because he’s upside down.
“Here,” Dream hands the book back to Sapnap when he’s finished, and pulls out his own phone for an audio recording. “What does… Theo, is it… want to know?” Dream’s eyes meet Sapnap’s as the latter man tries to remember what he wants to say. He feels like the hazel brown eyes are luring him into a story, almost unknowing to the author.
“Well,” Sapnap stutters, “uh, he’s seven and he’s convinced that you’re a literal pirate.”
“Okay,” Dream laughs. His mask moves slightly as his lips move up and down, and Sapnap could tell how he’s genuinely amused. “Surprisingly, that’s the first I’ve heard today.”
“Really?” Sapnap giggles in surprise.
“I won’t lie to you!” Dream replies. “Okay, okay. I’m gonna record.”
And his finger presses down on the little red button.
“Hey, Theo. I’m Dream! Your father told me about you, and asked me to record something for you. Unfortunately, I’m currently not a pirate anymore– but fear not! You are about the age when I was one! No one expected that, you know? You’re smart!” His voice is cheerful, like a children’s book for before they go to bed. “I think if you one day become someone with a story, you should write it down, or make it known to me, you know? Theo, I think maybe meet the past me in your voyages. If you do, please do tell me about it. I would love to know. I have a lot of things I want to tell you, future little pirate, but unfortunately, time isn’t in my favor right now. If we get to meet in your stories, I promise to tell you everything I know, okay? Bye bye Theo.”
Dream finishes the recording with one of the most genuine smiles Sapnap’s ever seen hanging on his eyes. Even though Dream is masked, it is nowhere hard to tell how delighted he is when he’s talking to children who look up to him. It is almost like he knows how much he means to them, and how his only desire that’s left in his eyes is to reciprocate the love that these kids are willing to give him.
That makes Dream simply the sweetest man ever. It’s not an easy thing to love a child who isn’t yours, but to the pen wielding man before him, it feels like such an easy task, even after an hour of book signing, and talking to whichever kid that approaches him.
“Okay,” Dream says, after saving the file. He puts his phone down, and lays both his palms on the table to lean forward and stare into Sapnap’s eyes. “Can you wait around that wall for me? I’ll be done in about 15 minutes and I’ll catch you there.” He says, pointing at the side of the room.
“Of course, thank you.” Sapnap is more than grateful for two things. One, is that he got his son a recording of his son’s favorite person, and two, he gets to talk to Dream for a little longer.
Somehow, it doesn’t seem all that tough to wait when it’s about something so dear to Sapnap, and 15 minutes pass as if he’s just taking a walk in the park.
As the staff members start dragging tables and chairs away from the venue, Dream walks towards Sapnap like a man so happy that he’s traveling on his tippy toes. He has a lightness to how he walks, as if he’s a kid who just gone to a friend’s birthday party. The chocolate blonde has his phone in one hand, and his sharpie in another as he tries to pocket it, but just cannot.
“Hey,” Dream says as he waves with the phone. His fingers seem to envelop the damn thing like he’s holding something tiny, like a handkerchief of sorts. “Thank you for waiting.”
“None of that,” Sapnap immediately responds, walking up to Dream to meet him. They stop with one foot apart, and even with such a distance, Sapnap still has to tip his head up to look the author in the eyes. The blonde is in no doubt a big man, but only up close could Sapnap truly understand how huge he is, albeit a gentle giant. “Thank you for recording this for me, you really didn’t have to like, bypass the rule for me.”
“Oh, don’t worry about it. The security was so pissed off that it was actually kind of funny. ‘You’re endangering yourself and your reputation by having recordings of you escaping this venue. Do you understand that, Mr. Wetztekan? You are being incredibly irresponsible of your own wellbeing. What if he’s making up a story to get a negative newspaper article from you? What then?’ God, they’re so dumb.” Dream imitates the security guards as he shakes his head around and rolls his eyes, looking goofy and laughable and the truth is that Sapnap did laugh, not just at his parody of the men in suits but also at how easygoing this legendary author is.
“But what if I am a reporter who wants chaos and money. What then?” Sapnap asks back, meaning none of it.
“I mean, okay, well,” Dream stutters a bit, laughing as he talks. “If you really are one, then you’re doing a good job because you have this like, uh, can I say glow? You have this glow in your eyes when you’re talking about your son.”
“Yeah,” Sapnap feels… shocked, if that is the right word. He’s shocked that Dream can notice things like this, and shocked that it means so much to Dream that he can negate every single security risk at the venue. “I… he’s my everything.”
“I’m sorry,” Dream looks like he wants to comfort Sapnap in some way, but doesn’t know how. His hands fly up just slightly, as if his next move is to bring Sapnap into a light embrace, but in the end, they’re still total strangers. “You’re a good parent, though. Theo can’t have asked for anything better.”
“How do you know?” Sapnap breaks out a laugh.
“Well, I’ve seen a lot of parents, you know?” Dream smiles. “Some of them are willing to bring their child here, some of them aren't; sometimes children sneak out of their houses when their parents aren’t home to ask for a signature or to buy a book. I’ve never seen a parent come to the venue alone, though.”
“I just didn’t want him to get sick.” If Sapnap is going to be honest, he’s getting a little bit embarrassed with how much this man is flattering him. It’s like he’s picking everything worthy of exclaiming about on Sapnap’s body and magnifying it to the maximum.
Dream is incredibly overwhelming as a person he’s meeting for the first time, but somehow, Sapnap doesn’t dislike how overwhelming Dream is, and he doesn’t know why.
“Oh, um, the video,” the author says, after moments of near silence and them looking at each other in the eyes. “Um, can I airdrop it to you?”
“Yeah,” Sapnap says, pulling out his phone. “My display name is ‘Sapnap’.”
“Sapnap,” Dream hums. “Is that a nickname?”
“Yeah, well, sort of,” the brunet admits. “It’s like ‘Dream’, kind of. I’m not an author though. It’s like, a nickname that stuck from highschool.”
Dream fumbles around on his phone for a second, finding the video. “Does it mean anything?” He asks.
“It’s embarrassing,” Sapnap waits for a moment, but Dream tilts his head sideways like a big puppy waiting for an answer, and Sapnap realizes that he can’t resist it. “It’s ‘pandas’ but spelt backwards.”
“Wouldn’t that be ‘sadnap’, though?” Dream frowns, his face animated.
“Which one sounds better, though, c’mon.” Sapnap smiles. Dream gets it.
“Oh,” Dream suddenly looks surprised. “I don’t know why, my airdrop just isn’t working. I can’t send anything on this… why can’t I send? This is weird, uh, um, can I send this to you like, via messages? If you’re comfortable with giving me your number, that is.”
“I don’t mind at all,” Sapnap smiles. “Give me your phone, I’ll put it in.”
Sapnap types on Dream’s keyboard. His phone is warm, probably from being in those hands for way too long. He is quick with entering the numbers, but on the corner of the screen, Sapnap catches the absence of a certain symbol.
Dream’s bluetooth isn’t on. He doesn’t point it out.
“Here,” he hands the phone back to the blonde man, who is rocking side to side, hands behind his back, before Sapnap speaks. “This is my number.”
“Cool, I will send you the recording right now.” Dream says, smiles hidden in his voice. “I, uh, have to go for now, but count on me to send it to you, I promise. You’re literally allowed to sue me.”
“That’s a dangerous thing to say, I’m not gonna lie.” Sapnap laughs. “Go fulfill your authorial duties, Mr. pirate-author. It’s been nice meeting you.”
“You too, panda man.” The blonde replies, winking before he skips backwards and waves to Sapnap. He walks like a child who got something for Christmas, feet gently leaving the ground as he walks away. Dream’s eyes stay on Sapnap’s, and Sapnap doesn’t stop waving to him until the security put a hand on Dream’s back, and the author’s form disappears behind a door.
Sapnap is the last to leave the venue.
And Dream keeps his promise. When Sapnap gets back home, Dream has already sent the recording to him, attached with a smiley face under the message. The recording is grainy, with random people’s voices in the background, and a distinct nervous tapping from Sapnap’s feet ringing through the entire thing. But it’s enough, and it’s exactly what he wanted for his son.
He beckons Theo over; the young boy skips over, throwing all his toys onto the ground at once. He almost trips over the side of a chair, but his father catches him halfway.
“Thank you, daddy,” the child says, standing to his feet. “Did you meet Dream, daddy? Did he write his name in my book? Did he tell you about how he travels the world, dad?” He jumps up enthusiastically, all signs of him almost falling over disappearing in the blink of an eye and is entirely replaced by light beaming from his cheeks in anticipation of his favorite things.
“Yes, I did meet him, Theo,” Sapnap smiles, petting the boy on his head before he reaches into his bag to retrieve the signed book. “But he didn’t tell me his stories. He said I’m not a real pirate.”
“But you can read them,” Theo frowns. He raises his hands to receive the book, muttering a gentle “thank you, daddy” before flipping over the pages. “I can’t find it– oh! I see it! I see it, daddy! It– it says uh… daddy, I can’t read this.”
“Can I read it to you?” Sapnap offers, pointing the both of them to the couch. “We can sit there and I can read his writing to you.”
“Yeah!” The boy shouts again, beating Sapnap to the comfort of the couch with fast moving legs. He kicks the toys scattered on the floor around, making a mess, but Sapnap chooses to ignore them for now for there are way more important things for them to do.
He makes his way to the couch too, following his son’s steps. It’s hard to not match the energy Theo’s emitting, for all of him seems to be emitting light all over the room. Sapnap hasn’t felt that much ecstasy in a very long time, and he is determined to preserve that childish happiness in his child’s heart. He sits down, snuggled besides his son, as his son puts the book on his lap with expectancy in his eyes.
“Okay, he first wrote ‘Dream’,” Sapnap reads, keeping the pages open with his thumbs. He’s careful not to tear the pages, but is also wary of showing Theo everything Dream has written. “And then he also wrote this: ‘Hi Theo–’”
“Hi Dream!” Theo exclaims. “Daddy! He said ‘hi’ to me!”
“Yes, he did, Theo,” A smile plasters his face. “And he also wrote: ‘I hope you never forget my name, never stop dreaming.’ And that’s all he wrote.”
“I dream every night,” Theo mutters to himself. “I won’t stop dreaming.” He picks at his finger, trying to figure out what Dream meant by that. Sapnap knows that he wouldn’t be able to figure it out just by sitting there, and only when he grows up would he know what it means by “never stop dreaming”.
“He gave you another thing though.” Sapnap reminds his son, who’s ears perk up again.
“What is it?”
“Remember when I promised you he’ll record something for you? He has a voice message for you.” Sapnap says, drawing his phone out of his pocket and opening up to the messages app. He plays the recording, and watches Theo’s eyes widen little by little as he hears Dream talk about how he is a pirate, how Theo can be a pirate, and how he should start writing down every single thing that the world has ever bestowed him into a book for other future pirates to read.
Sapnap is grateful for this mysterious author. He must have blessed so many children’s minds with endless thought, and some passion for creation that might last a lifetime. He’s grateful for how this man called “Dream” could make his child smile, and think wonder what it would be like being a person he could never be– or be a person who he wouldn’t’ve been if not for Dream.
He’s also simultaneously loathing the next few days, because he could already see his son zooming across the room with a fake blade in his hand, shouting and yelling about how he’s gonna claim another treasure chest. But that’s something for him to think about tomorrow.
And Sapnap chooses to not point out how Dream texted him more than just the recording.
Later that night is when Sapnap chooses to reply to Dream’s texts, way after Theo’s bedtime. It takes Sapnap a little while to convince Theo to go to bed, because the boy did not want to let go of the book. Sapnap doesn’t blame him.
Dream
Video Attached
Hey, this is Dream.
Sapnap
Who else would it be?
The big bad wolf? A random pirate with a shotgun?
Dream
Perhaps… you never know.
I might just be the most popular pirate among children of America. They will grow up to vote for me as president.
Dream
For legal reasons that is a joke.
Sapnap breaks out laughing at his screen; after a second, or two, he realizes that he can’t be loud, as it is already 11p.m., well past Theo’s bed time, and if he is to wake his son up right now, he’ll be defying the rules he set himself, and that’ll make him an irresponsible father. Nonetheless, he still doesn’t make it an obvious effort to hide his smile, because the sheer endearingness of Dream’s is enough to convince him that his smile is worth it.
Sapnap
If you are really voted as president in the next 20 years
It’ll be a dream come true for these kids
Why are you called Dream anyways?
His fingers fly across the screen as he thinks back to how Dream writes. The way that Sapnap puts down his thoughts doesn’t match that of Dream’s at all. It’s like they are on a different level, and that both intrigues Sapnap and makes him feel so distanced.
Dream
Well
It’s pretty much what you said
Being an author and being able to write what I wanted to write before is quite literally a dream come true for me
Sapnap
Authors are so cryptic.
You wanted to be an author when you were a child?
Dream
No it was much worse.
Image Attached
Sapnap clicks, and it shows a picture of a piece of paper, titled “What Do I Want To Be” in comic sans, with a few strokes that remotely look like letters scribbled below. Sapnap could just about tell that it is the writing of a child that vaguely says “pirate” with a stickman and a pirate hat drawn next to it.
Sapnap
That’s cute.
I wanted to be a celebrity when I was younger.
Like an actor or a singer or something like that
I have no talent though.
Dream
Don’t say that
What do you do now?
Sapnap
I code for a small business o(-(
Nothing too special
Dream
That's pretty special
I learnt coding before I started writing
My parents told me that writing was useless but I proved them wrong anyways
Look where that brought me
Sapnap
You’re one of those talented ones haha
I think parents just don’t have the power to appreciate writing.
A pause, and Sapnap feels like he said something wrong there.
Sapnap
Wait.
I’m a parent too.
He laughs at his own stupidity; he giggles at how much he fumbles up, talking to a magical, endearing man who’s the idol of thousands of children whom he just met. It feels like his brain has shut up except for that one part of it that wants to talk more to Dream. Sapnap is slightly confused, because this morning, he set off thinking that he was just going to retrieve something for his son.
But now, he feels like he’s also retrieving something for himself– he wants to talk more to Dream, simply because the man is intriguing to him, and not because he loves his son. (Sapnap still loves Theo very much, for clarification.)
Dream
How do you just forget that
I don’t have a kid nor a partner but I feel like that’s not something too easy to forget
Sapnap
Well I don’t have a partner either and my son is asleep, so I think it’s not that far of a stretch.
Another pause.
Sapnap
Sorry
TMI
Dream
It’s okay, I was the one who brought it up in the first place
Don’t worry about it :)
The smile on the end of Dream’s message is weirdly cute. It’s not something that Sapnap expected from a man like him, although on second thought, he doesn’t really know what he expected from Dream. The author, to him, is an enigma. He feels like a long, long paragraph of poetry that Sapnap has yet to read, and for the first time in a while, he feels incredibly interested to read.
Dream
How’s Theo?
He’s 7, right?
Sapnap
I don’t know if telling you all my personal information is a good thing
Dream
You told me his age this morning, Mr. Pandas.
“Mr. Pandas,” Sapnap repeats to himself, quietly.
Sapnap
That doesn’t mean I will tell you more before I know you better, Mr. Dream-come-true.
Dream
I’m trying to get there okay
What I’m trying to say is that
Tomorrow’s Monday, does he go to school?
Sapnap
So you’re saying that I do not have the knowledge to homeschool my son?
Jkjk.
Yeah he goes to school tomorrow.
Dream
That’s brilliant
Location Attached
Cafe? At 10?
It seems like the worst idea. Accepting an invite from a famous author for coffee on the second day of meeting, telling this man his son’s age, his schedule (kind of)... certainly seems like the worst version of information security there ever was. If his son is a little bit older, Sapnap might even tell Theo about this as an example of what not to do. But, because he’s just a little bit selfish, or curious, depending on how Sapnap wants to see it, he might just as well ignore all this internet safety thing.
Sapnap
…convince me
Dream
It’ll be fun I promise
You just sound like a really interesting guy
This is mildly weird to Sapnap, because somehow, he feels like he should be the one calling Dream an “interesting guy”, but who is he to judge, if Dream says something, then it must be true because of how magical the man treats his words.
Dream
Pretty please?
Sapnap
Sold.
Might be late if Theo doesn’t wake up on time though.
And that somehow seems to be enough. Sapnap sleeps with the anticipation of meeting Dream tomorrow in his heart, and his fingertips seem to buzz from a feeling he has barely touched on ever since he could remember. But, at the same time, Sapnap stays half awake, reminding himself that Theo is still there, and is still what should be his priority.
Yes, Sapnap’s thinking about what knowing Dream more means.
It is damned obvious to Sapnap himself that he has a stupid crush on the author. There is almost no other explanation to why his heart is pounding so fastly when he thinks of Dream, even though the last time that Sapnap has had a crush was a long, long time ago, in highschool. But he doesn’t know what having a crush means to him and his family, to Theo, to their father-son relationship. He wonders what Theo would think if Sapnap begins to hang out with someone who isn’t him.
But Dream is, well, Dream. Dream is the man that Theo was yelling to meet, and if that’s the case, then he shouldn’t have much of a problem with Dream, right?
That bugs Sapnap as he falls asleep.
The next morning arrives with Sapnap gently rocking his son awake, and with his son groaning loudly. He doesn’t blame Theo– waking up early on a Monday morning, after 2 days of freedom, sucks– but school is inevitably more important. Plus, his father has an important meeting to attend.
And Sapnap’s still nervous about it.
And okay, yeah, he’s trying to convince himself that it’s a bad idea. Again, he only got to meet this mystery man, Dream, because his son is passionate about his writing. So what? Being able to write good children stories means nothing about whether they’re a good person or not– just take a look at J. K. Rowling, as an example. But Sapnap doesn’t think Dream would ever be someone like that, somehow, maybe it’s the intrinsic attraction that Sapnap has towards Dream, or maybe it’s just that he really, really wants to give Dream a chance to be a good person– and Sapnap knows it’s called “having a crush”.
Okay, maybe he is in love.
Even Theo picks up on it. When he drops Theo off in front of the school gates, Theo kisses his cheek in goodbye and says “daddy, why are you sad?”
“I’m not sad,” Sapnap answers, albeit knowing exactly what his son wanted to say. It’s not “sadness”, but “nervousness”, and he knows that Theo can’t tell the difference yet. “Daddy’s just thinking of something, just like how you sometimes don’t know what a book is talking about.”
“Do you have a book you don’t understand?” Theo asks, swinging his bag onto his back. Sapnap is careful to not let his lunch box fall out.
“I think so, sweetie,” Sapnap responds. To him, maybe Dream is like a book he hasn’t yet opened to read. “You’re running late, Theo, I’ll pick you up at 3:30, okay?”
“Okay, daddy,” the child nods, turning to run to his classroom. “You can read your book with me when we get home!” Sapnap thinks that if Theo knew the “unread book” is Dream, his child would have started punching him a long time ago, so most of Sapnap opts to not tell Theo about it.
The drive to the cafe seems both longer and shorter than he would’ve liked it to be. He’s still dressed similarly than the day before, just with more of a troubled look worn on his face. Sapnap tries to think of an excuse around it, but he also doesn’t want to go “around it”, if that could even make sense in his own mind. Parking outside of the cafe, he waits to go in, not because he’s early but because he’s scared that Dream is late, and he hates to be the one who waves in a cafe, especially with his heart beating in his throat. He waits until Dream texts him, swallowing down spit that feels too heavy to be right.
Sapnap keeps on wondering whether he should be nervous, because it almost feels like a disrespect to Dream’s character. But at the same time, he can’t blame himself for tapping his feet, and pretend that he’s not there until Dream is.
Dream
I’m here :)
Image Attached
The photo reveals Dream, sitting beside the window with two cups of coffee before his hands. The photo doesn’t feature his face, and instead his hands that he rests gently on the table; a ring hugs his right ring finger like a piece of glitter on a blank canvas, highlighting the tender nature of his touch. On the far side of the image, Sapnap could see his car resting beside the curb, and the bill of his hat barely visible from the lens.
Sapnap
In 2 min
I promise
He replies, while contemplating how to get out of the car without Dream thinking he’s a total weirdo. If Dream is paying a little bit attention to his surroundings, he would definitely have known that Sapnap is right there, if not, then he’ll definitely know the moment that Sapnap steps out of his car.
Sapnap got himself stuck in a bit of a pickle, didn’t he?
Dream
No worries :)
Just as long as you’re not planning on leaving me alone
Like, just drive away or something
I will be sad
Oh. Okay. So the question of whether Dream has seen him or not is definitely out of the window.
Dream
If you didn’t wanna turn up you can also tell me you know
I don’t mean to force you to come meet me
Sapnap
No no
You’re not forcing me to do anything
Sapnap takes a deep breath in, adjusting his hair, tucking in some of the random curls that go a little too far beyond his comfort zone. Wiping his hands on his shirt, twice, he decides that it’s finally time to meet this man he’s been trying to hide from, either for politeness or for his childish crush, or both, or neither. Sapnap can’t really tell.
The bells on the door of the cafe chimes. Sapnap thinks that Dream’s smiles are making the same sounds.
Unlike the day of the book signing, Dream doesn’t wear a mask, and Sapnap could see his cheeks and the corner of his lips better. The dirty blonde author’s smile is soft, almost too soft for his voice. He looks like a man who could sit in a cat cafe with a treat in his palm for ages and ages–
“Hey,” Dream says, interrupting Sapnap’s train of thought; he stands up to greet Sapnap, and amidst the sudden flush of color on his face, Sapnap rushes to greet Dream and to sit in front of him. “I thought you’d never come.” Dream remarks.
“I told you I was going to come,” Sapnap mutters, trying to articulate. “Nice seeing you without a huge crowd, Mr. Author.”
“I’m not that famous,” Dream laughs. “My readers are mainly children and it’s a Monday morning. Also I hope you like white chocolate mocha. I tried to predict your coffee preference– spoiler alert, I’m not good at it.”
“It’s a nice drink,” Sapnap replies. The coffee is still taped from the sides and from the straw hole, and his final worries of personal safety disappear almost entirely. “What do you have?”
“Oh,” Dream responds as if he’s been removed from a long, distant thought. Sapnap thinks that it might be for a new story idea, if that’s how authors come up with storylines like that. “Do you want to know a secret?”
The brunet raises a brow, taking a sip out of the drink. It’s still hot, and Sapnap had to resist wincing from the heat. It’s gonna scar, maybe.
“It’s hot chocolate and I don’t like coffee,” Dream scratches his head lightly, his smile turning into one of those embarrassed comic-like expressions that feel incredibly exaggerated, and Sapnap would’ve thought it was fake if not because he’s sitting right in front of the man. “Which is why I can’t guess other people's coffee orders, like, I don’t drink any.”
If Sapnap is to be honest, he would admit that, Dream, indeed, doesn’t seem like a man who would love coffee. Sapnap could even guess that Dream doesn’t like coffee probably because it’s too bitter, or it makes his stomach ache. All in all, the way that Dream sits, or the way that he smiles, or how his eyes look at everywhere softly, and at Sapnap, doesn’t seem like a tough guy at all.
Endearing. That’s the word that Sapnap is thinking about.
“Anyways,” Dream takes a sip. The brown chocolate foam leaves a little mustache on top of his lips. “I’m very happy you could show up today; I feel like you’re an interesting person, you know? And I want to get to know you better.”
“I’m– I’m very sure that you’re more interesting than I am, Dream,” Sapnap says, still holding onto his drink, nervous to put his hands anywhere else. “I write code and you write for a child’s mind.”
“Your job has nothing to do with how fun of a person you are.” Dream refutes.
“I have nothing going on in my life,” Sapnap gives a little laugh. “All I have is my son.”
“How is he?” Dream asks. “Did he get to listen to the recording?”
The way that Dream starts asking about Theo makes Sapnap’s heart melt. From the depth of his heart, Dream cares about children and how they feel about the world. The author seems to grow more and more respectable by the minute in Sapnap’s mind, seeing how much he appreciated what he do; it is something that Sapnap could never accomplish, and to an extent, he wants to be like Dream. He wants to be able to give what he loves his all.
“Oh, he definitely did,” Sapnap smiles. “Tell you what, though, he could not understand your handwriting.”
“Neither could I, to be honest,” Dream immediately replies. They both laugh, like sunlight shining in the cafe, dimming everyone besides them. “There’s a reason why I type my writings.”
The morning went along softly, with them telling each other childhood stories and laughing at the other’s unfortunate stories. Sapnap orders a platter of baked goods for both of them, and Dream, even though reluctant to eat the sweets, eventually has some with Sapnap’s insistence.
“When I was like, in highschool,” Sapnap says with a cookie in his mouth, “I had a friend who is very insistent on the ‘if I can’t have it, no one can’ ideology, and he was so jealous of people who had an artist studio space for drinking in school that he threw a fart bomb in there.”
“What?” Dream shakes his head, laughing with his hand spread wide. “How does he even think of that?”
“I don’t know, he just did it,” Sapnap shrugs, “and he did end up shutting the studio down, but he also did end up being suspended because the fucker smelled like fart for the rest of the day.”
They both laugh again. Dream’s eyes sparkle, moreso when Sapnap stares back into his.
“You see, you are an interesting person,” Dream remarks. “You tell good stories, and if that’s your criteria for being interesting, then you’re a lovely person.” And Sapnap doesn’t dare refute Dream, half because he’s so in awe, and also half because he’s willing to accept any compliment that Dream gives him, because if no one could tell, Sapnap sure knows that he’s awfully in love.
“Whatever you say,” he smiles, “you’re the author, afterall.”
“If you ever want to write something you can always call me,” Dream smiles. He rubs his stomach contently, filled with cookies and muffins. “You have my number.”
“I think I need to catch up on your stories first, I’m gonna be honest,” Sapnap admits. “I mean, before yesterday, I knew you only as a random name from my son’s favorite books that I didn’t even buy– he bought it himself at a book fair with his pocket money.”
“But now we know each other more, don’t we?” Dream raises a brow.
“...maybe.” Sapnap feels the dirty blonde’s stare rest on himself. It is almost slightly unnerving, if not because he somewhat knows what Dream might be thinking. “What are you thinking about?”
The air feels frozen. It isn’t that cold. It’s almost like everything is halting in the world, waiting for Dream and Sapnap to say more; Sapnap knows that the first to say things isn’t going to be him. If anything, he’s a timid man who hasn’t been able to chase after a person he loves for a long time, and he’s forgotten anything that comes with that.
Last time he hung out with his crush, he ended up with a son 9 months later and his partner nowhere to be found except for the monthly $300 bill.
Dream puts his head in his palms, leaning forward, with the kind, pleasant aura of a slightly burning candle. He hums lightly, looking into Sapnap’s eyes, yet again, for a second or two before he starts speaking again.
“I don’t want to scare you off,” he starts, and usually Sapnap would get even more scared but Dream pacifies him, like a warm blanket on a December evening. That– that is what Dream is like. “And uh, I don’t want to like, force you or anything. Ghost me if you don’t want to talk to me ever again, it’s fine–”
“Dream, which part of me looks like I don’t want to talk to you ever again?” Sapnap interrupts.
“Okay, okay,” the author half-sighs, nodding his head before continuing. “And I know you’re busy with Theo most of the time, but I was wondering if you have time… tomorrow? Or next week? Or anything, really.”
“Aren’t you busy?” Sapnap laughs. “‘Famous children-young adult author hanging out with the father of a fan caught on camera’ is going to appear on the headlines tomorrow, is it not?”
“You overestimate the amount of time I spend and the amount I get paid, Pandas.” Dream jokes.
Sapnap splutters at the nickname. He chokes on his own spit, despite not having drank anything in the past few minutes. He feels his heart rising from his chest, and into the skies like perfume wafting into the air and dissipating for other people to breathe in. He turns to the side, and for the first time in the day he blushes, hard enough for his entire face to turn to the color of cinnamon candy, red and spice-shot.
“Can I call you that?” The other man asks, unsure.
“No one’s called me that since like, middle school,” Sapnap explains, still coughing slightly. “I’m just, yeah. Shocked, I guess.”
“If it makes you feel any better, my real name is Clay.” Dream smiles, his cheeks also fluttering up with soft petals of roses and hydrangeas. “I do prefer ‘Dream’ though, but I guess if you really want to, you have the privilege.”
“What gives me the privilege of calling you by your real name?”
“Because I’m asking you out again?” The response Sapnap gets is immediate. “Sapnap, if it’s not obvious enough, I like you, a lot.”
It takes Sapnap a little bit of courage to reply.
But he does.
“Well,” he gulps; Dream is clearly awaiting an answer, or some kind, but the blonde is very patient, almost puppy-like, in how he awaits Sapnap’s words. He doesn’t move, nor looks away, but he also doesn’t stare at Sapnap more than what’s enough. “If it isn’t obvious enough, Mr. author, I also like you a lot.” He holds his hand within another one of his, silently fiddling with a digit of his.
Dream lets go of a breath he’s obviously been holding onto for a long time, and Sapnap doesn’t blame him, because he would have reacted the same way, if not more dramatically. “For a second, I thought you were going to say ‘I like myself a lot too,’ and I would’ve considered myself as a total failure.”
Again, endearing is the word Sapnap would use on Dream.
“Really? Over me?” Sapnap frowns, half-jokingly, “Me, single father at age 26, random guy whom you just met at a book signing?”
“If you talk yourself down like that one more time–” Dream points a finger upwards, swearing to gods above.
“And?” Sapnap prompts.
“I don’t know,” is Dream’s answer. “But just don’t do that, okay, I think you’re a wonderful person, a single father isn’t a bad thing– at least you’re not like, happily married, because that’ll be very sad for me– and both you and your son are wonderful personalities.” He quickly lays it all out for Sapnap, as if he’s reading down a bullet list that he’s prepared since yesterday night.
Perhaps he did, but Sapnap would never know.
“Fine,” Sapnap gives in. “Fine. I have time tomorrow, and Theo has a book club to attend which means he doesn’t come home until 4:30.” He pauses. “A book club for your books, actually.”
“Do you know how to skateboard?” Dream suddenly asks. “Or rollerskate.”
“Yes to the first one,” Sapnap points at Dream, but what he said isn’t entirely true– he hasn’t skated since Theo was born, and his skateboard is eating dust in the corner of their tiny garage. “And no to the second.”
“Cool,” Dream claps his hands together in excitement. “Skate park just around the corner here? Also, I do not know how to skate. This is going to be fun.”
After they finished up as many cookies as they could, and asks for the last two to be wrapped up for Theo to enjoy in the night, Dream walks Sapnap to his car, slowly, with one foot resting slowly on the floor before another moves before it. They still mutter about small, insignificant things for the remaining minutes they have together in the day.
“I wanted to be a, like, policeman or something, when I grow up,” Sapnap comments, “but I don’t think that’s like, the best profession to glorify in a children’s fiction book.”
“I mean, it’s all fictional. I’m not writing about pirates in the middle of Orlando either.” Dream shrugs.
“That would be fun though, pirates in the middle of Orlando.” Sapnap tips his head sideways, neither affirming nor denying Dream’s idea. “Maybe that’s the inspiration for your next novel, I don’t know.”
“Well,” the blonde laughs. His laughter reminds Sapnap of the chirping of morning birds, a natural, bright voice of reason. “I’m not sure my publisher would appreciate me writing about a group of kids sailing a full-size boat in the middle of a city, but I’ll try, just for you.”
“You’re not doing that,” Sapnap jokes, before a pause, which after then he realizes that Dream could as well be half serious. “You’re kidding, right.”
“Maybe,” he replies, stopping with Sapnap in front of his car door. “Convince me otherwise.”
“That’ll literally be a waste of time, Dream,” the brunet frowns. “Don’t do it.”
And by this point, Sapnap realizes that the other man has a thing for looking into his eyes and holding them there, to get a point through or to just hold the other man’s image in his heart for a little longer. Before Sapnap got to meet Dream, which is before this morning, Sapnap would be conscious of every single bit of eye contact, but now, Dream’s hazel, olive tinted eyes seem to lure him into looking back at them. He feels like he’s getting to know a piece of delicately polished opal, shining through the clouded skies.
Sapnap realizes that the middle parts of Dream’s irises are brown rather than green. Maybe he’s getting a little too close if it’s enough for him to realize.
He smiles, Dream smiles back; Sapnap doesn’t see the other man smile.
“Can I, uh,” the blonde scratches his head. “Can I hug you?”
“What?” That’s not entirely what Sapnap expected, because he is one, too lost in Dream’s eyes, and two, was considering something different, like holding hands, or a “convince me”, or something like that. He didn’t expect a hug, out of anything, but that’s not to say that Sapnap dislikes the idea of it. “Well, yeah.”
Dream’s arms are very, very wide.
Theo loves the cookies when Sapnap eventually gets the chance to give it to the child. He is enthusiastic after school, given that he’s been telling everyone what he got from Dream, the famous, elusive author whom every child in the school knows, and if not, knows of. Sapnap thinks that Theo would lose his mind if he knew that his father went on a date with that specific author, so he opts to not tell him just about yet.
If they eventually do meet, that’s another question.
Sapnap gets work done in the night, which means that he didn’t have a lot of time to spend with Theo, but they still cook together while Sapnap asks his son to tell him about the stories he’s been reading.
“Daddy, you should read this!” Theo waves the familiar cover of “How To Be A Pirate” in front of his father’s face. “So we can talk about it together.”
“Why don’t you tell me what it’s about?” Sapnpa says, stirring the pot of stew gently so it doesn’t pour over.
So Theo does, and he doesn’t stop talking about it until he goes to bed. He talks about the main character, Miles, and how he finds friends in the imaginary land parallel to Earth and becomes a pirate to save the world from evil. Theo tells the story in a way that Sapnap is sure that Dream didn’t write it that way, but still listens word for word, because Theo might just as well have fallen in love with the story.
And Sapnap might as well have fallen in love with the author. But that’s something else.
“Daddy, do you think I can ever be like Miles?” Theo asks when Sapnap tucks him in bed.
“Well,” Sapnap smiles, and using Dream’s words, he replies, “I don’t think sailing a ship in the middle of Orlando is a good idea, but I’m sure you’ll become one of the best pirates– no, the best pirate.”
“But I can’t be a pirate without a boat,” Theo protests. “That doesn’t work.”
“That’s not true,” Sapnap frowns. In reality, he doesn’t know the definition of “pirate” at all, and in the rare chance that the definition of “pirate” does include land pirates, it’s not the same; but his priority right now is to get Theo to go to sleep happily. (If Sapnap knows anything, it’s that sleeping while being sad is one of the worst feelings heavens have ever bestowed to the human race.) “If all pirates had ships, the ocean will be filled with them.”
“But Miles’ boat goes on streets. Like cars!” Theo says, his hands flying outside of the blankets to mime the size of the boat, but he can’t even begin to imagine how large an actual boat is. “Why don’t we have those, daddy?”
At one point, maybe showing Theo the existence of an amphicar would be a good idea.
“Well you can invent something when you become older,” Sapnap promises the child. “Maybe tomorrow, maybe when you’re 15, just not tonight, Theo, because what do I always say?”
“If we don’t sleep well we will be stupid the next morning.” The boy replies.
“That’s right,” Sapnap leans down to kiss his son on the forehead. “I’m going to go to sleep too. See you tomorrow, sweetie.”
“Okay,” Theo muttere, before Sapnap turns the lights off.
In truth, Sapnap doesn’t immediately go to bed. He tries to, but lying on his mattress at 11:30, he still fiddles with his phone, and specifically, waits for a ping on his phone.
And it does come.
Dream
Hey are you asleep?
Sapnap
Still awake
Why?
Dream
Can’t a man talk to the guy he fancies?
Sapnap’s face instantly turns to a shade of red that’s 10, no, 20 times redder than he usually is. He is only glad that Theo is not here to see him flushed up like this, then Sapnap would have to explain the concept of crushes to him, and that’ll be too much work for his lovestruck brain to work around.
Sapnap
What are you, a Victorian gentleman?
Dream
Pandas I am an author
Sapnap
Call me that one more time and I might as well not show up tomorrow
Dream
Why?
Do you not like it?
Realizing that there might be, or, definitely is, an alternative meaning to what he just said, Sapnap figures it’s best if he explains a little more, and, lying on his bed at near midnight, he thinks of a somewhat brilliant idea.
Sapnap
Image Attached
I’m melting
Dream
You realize you just scared the shit out of me right
Sapnap giggles to himself.
Dream
At least I have my first ever photo of u on my phone
I will cherish it
Sapnap
I don’t get one back?
Immediately after Sapnap sends the text, his phone rings, and it isn’t from another text message, but by a pop-out window, with the words “Dream” on the top.
“Hey,” Sapnap picks up. “You know it’s late as hell, right?”
“Yeah,” the man on the other side hums. “But I want to hear your voice before I go to bed.”
They talk for hours and hours. Sapnap barely falls asleep when the sun rises up, and even so, he sees Dream’s face in his dreams. It may have only been two days, but Sapnap sees Dream and his son hanging out together, making flower rings.
Perhaps Sapnap yearns for domesticality.
The next date happens as smoothly as the first. Sapnap drops Theo off at school and heads to the skating rink with a dusty skateboard in his trunk. He has doubts as to whether he can pull off being on the skateboard– something he hasn’t done for years– but knowing that Dream has no skating experience, at all, it seems much easier for Sapnap to relax. And the truth is that neither of them end up knowing how to skate, and so both Dream and Sapnap, after falling on their knees many times, decide that maybe a skate park isn’t the best for them, so instead, Sapnap takes Dream on a ride around downtown in his car, and both of them nod their heads to music each other like.
Sapnap only sometimes, sometimes, looks towards Dream when he’s smiling and singing at the same time; he also ignores Dream’s eyes when Sapnap rolls up the windows to belt (horribly) to his favorite songs. If anything, it’s incredibly difficult to ignore how mutual their appreciation is for each other, and the bizarre meeting of a boy’s father with the child’s favorite author seems to be overshadowed by the sheer amounts of love that is in the car.
At one point, Sapnap looks over to Dream the same time the blonde looks back at him. Their eyes hold still for a while.
“Uh–” Sapnap manages to break the tension for a small, small while. “Do you want a smoothie? I know a very good dessert place around here somewhere. They also have fro-yo.”
“If you want any.” Dream says. His eyes dart down, to where Sapnap’s hands lie on the gear stick. If Sapnap could want to read through anyone’s soul now, it would be at this very moment, because Sapnap desperately needs to know what is going on through Dream’s head for his own sanity.
Because if Sapnap is doing that exact, same thing, it would mean that he can’t help falling more and more in love with Dream.
They don’t end up talking about it all that much. Sapnap drives them to that dessert shop; Dream gets a berry smoothie and Sapnap gets a custom frozen yogurt with banana and caramel dotted on top. He claims that it’s the best topping human beings have ever created, and Dream replies that he wouldn’t disagree if he got to try some of Sapnap’s, to which the man promptly agrees.
“You have some on your nose,” Sapnap jokes as Dream contemplates whether he enjoys the frozen yogurt flavor or not. There isn’t remotely a speck of yogurt on Dream’s face, but Sapnap thinks it’s worth the joke anyways. “Here, have some tissues.”
“Do I? I definitely didn’t do that myself.” Dream does something that Sapnap could only describe as a frowning smile, a confused, fond expression that he has only seen Dream do, but it seems so natural and easy to understand when the blonde does it, that Sapnap feels it’s quite absurd that he has found someone who he resonates with.
“No, you didn’t do that yourself.” Sapnap giggles as Dream finishes wiping his clean nose. He takes a little from his bowl and boops the tip of the blonde’s freckle-covered nose. The shock of the cold surprises Dream, but both of them quickly melt back into a flurry of laughs, with Sapnap proud that he pulled such an easy prank on Dream, and Dream incredibly fond of Sapnap.
“You’re such an idiot.” The author says, wiping it again. His face is flushed red, a color similar to that of his lips.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sapnap smiles. “Whatever.”
Before either of them could really contemplate what they are thinking, Dream already has his palms on the back of Sapnap’s head, and Sapnap, with one hand still on the bowl of his frozen yogurt, puts his slightly cold fingers on Dream’s jaw.
Their lips meet for just a slight moment.
There’s no spit, no tongue, none of that filled-with-passion bullshit that romance stories talk about. There is love, but subtle, mature, and calculated.
“Is it weird that I've wanted to do this since we’ve met?” Dream whispers against Sapnap’s lips. The brunet has his eyes closed, but he can feel the warmth rising on his cheeks, that echoes off Dream’s face equally.
“We’ve met for 3 days, Dream.” Sapnap smiles.
“Well, I got to kiss you anyways.” Dream replies, and their lips meet softly again.
This time, Sapnap could vaguely taste the smell of raspberries and blueberries that glazes Dream’s lips from the smoothie, and he could only say that caramel and berries fit well together.
They part later in the afternoon, because Theo has to be picked up before dinner again. Sapnap spends the rest of the night in a loving smile, and Theo doesn’t question it, because it’s always a good thing when his father is smiling. Sapnap and Dream schedule their next date for the week after, where Sapnap invites Dream to cook dinner with him and his son on a Saturday evening, exactly one week after they meet. Neither Dream nor Sapnap have talked about what exactly they are, but both of them know that they’re ready for something that involves a lot of responsibility, and even more love from both of them.
And the day comes before Sapnap expects, and Dream shows up before his door at 6:00p.m., sharp.
He has previously told Theo that a friend of his would be making dinner together, and he introduced “Dream” as “Mr. Wetztekan”, just to stop Theo from freaking out, completely, before the night has even began. The boy is very excited, as Sapnap doesn’t usually have friends who come over often either.
“Hey, Pandas,” Dream says, with a baguette and a bouquet of lilies in his arms. Sapnap opens the door with a big grin, and Theo stands with the same book that Dream signed a week ago about 3 feet behind Sapnap. “And hi, is your name Theo?”
“Yeah,” the boy is slightly shy, and Sapnap doesn’t blame him. “Are you Mr. We… wezketan?”
“It’s, Wetztekan, but you can call me Clay,” Dream replies, handing Theo a flower from the bundle. “Here, have this.”
“I don’t like flowers,” Theo takes a step back. “You can give it to daddy, he likes flowers.”
“I–” Sapnap smiles, but before he could tell Theo that he would have the rest of the bouquet, the boy has already gone to the side to read again. “You showed up exactly on time. What’s the baguette for?”
“I’m not gonna let you pay for all the ingredients. I wanted to make garlic bread,” Dream smiles back, closing the door behind him. He brushes his lips lightly on Sapnap’s forehead, planting a gentle kiss there before he puts the flowers on the dinner table just besides the door. “What are we cooking today?”
“Well, the lasagna’s in the oven already, and I plan on sauteing a little bit of asparagus and mushrooms, because Theo likes asparagus more than broccoli, but if you want broccoli I could also–”
“Anything would be fine, Sapnap,” Dream says. “I’m an author, not a food critic.”
“Don’t let Theo hear that,” Sapnap’s voice drops. “He’ll go batshit if he knows who you are.”
“And none of us are ready to deal with the fanatic son at 6 p.m..” Dream confirms, completely glossing over the fact that he just called Theo “son”, and that means a shitton to Sapnap, because no one other than himself has called Theo their “son”, and Dream is the very, very first to be willingly take that responsibility into his hands and say it so naturally. His heart suddenly accelerated to twice the original speed; the only thing Sapnap could do to stop it from getting way too embarrassing is to turn around to head back to the kitchen.
“You don’t have to take off your shoes; here’s the kitchen, but I’m not entirely sure there are the spices you need for garlic bread.” Sapnap skips in little steps. He hasn’t done that in a while too.
Dream and Sapnap work surprisingly well in the kitchen together. Whilst the brunet sautees the vegetables on the fire, Dream cuts the garlic with a delicate motion, as if he is having way too much room with the knife in his hands. Sapnap knows, from the way that Dream executes all the simple tasks, that he cooks often, almost as often as a single father who’s been cooking for both him and his son for 7 years. They small-talk about their past week, and how Sapnap’s colleagues are annoying, or about how Dream’s editors keep on yelling at him for grammatical mistakes due to how fast Dream’s mind flies across paper. It definitely is these little things that make Sapnap fall in love, how they fit together so naturally.
Sapnap notices his son peeking through from the door frame of the kitchen occasionally, with the book and an ipod held tightly in his hand. He suspects that it’s because Theo wants to show Dream the recording as well, not knowing that the man who stands before him is the original man who recorded that.
“Can I use the fire?” Dream asks. “I need to fry the bread on butter, since the oven is used.”
“Yeah, of course,” Sapnap says, putting the cooked vegetables on the side. “The stove is all yours, my love.”
Dream smiles lightly. “Your love, huh.” He says, starting the fire again over a small pan, before buttering it. A few pieces of bread are laid onto the sizzling oil, and they both wait. There is about 15 minutes before the lasagna is truly done, and they stare at each other with the background noise similar to rain.
And Sapnap is an utter sucker for Dream; the scene from the car back in Tuesday replays again, and this time Sapnap could be on his tiptoes, with one of Dream’s hand on his waist and the other on his jaw. They don’t just breathe air, but each other’s auras, honey sweet even without the smoothies and caramel on their lips.
Dream’s touch is kind, nothing about him is intrusive, and he only touches the lines that Sapnap wants him to. The blonde bends over slightly so the shorter man could reach the back of Dream’s head, bringing both of them into an embrace that one could only describe as unison and “whole.”
“Daddy! Daddy! Doesn’t Mr. Westan sound like–” Theo comes walking into the kitchen, breaking the peace within the moment. He catches Sapnap and Dream with their lips still vaguely hung together; the two men stand shocked, scrambling to separate, with the former going to meet his son and the latter turning his undivided attention to the garlic bread. The boy’s eyebrows furl together, and Sapnap could tell that his son has three different thoughts going through his head at the same time. “What–”
“Theo,” Sapnap tries to explain. “Look– I didn’t mean to–”
“He sounds like Dream, daddy,” the boy first finishes his initial thought, although that’s not all he has to say. “And are you… are you… dating?” He says the last word as if it’s the first time he’s ever said it before. Upon sitting on the words for a little bit more, something suddenly clicks in his mind that hasn’t yet settled in. “Are you dating Dream?” Theo shouts.
And for one, it’s Sapnap’s fault for not telling Theo about all of it. It’s selfish, to an extent, where he doesn’t want to tell Theo until he and Dream have settled down nicely together, because he didn’t want to explain. But, it is incredibly stupid of him to assume that Theo wouldn’t have the recording Dream left him imprinted into his head.
“Well,” Sapnap leads Theo to the table, sitting down side by side. Dream is just arms-length behind him, so that he could find refuge in him when Sapnap needs. “Okay, to answer your questions one by one, uh, he does sound like Dream, and we aren’t exactly dating, but–”
“Sapnap, can you take over the bread for a minute?” Dream asks, and before Sapnap could say “no”, the blonde winks at him, telling him that Dream has plans of his own.
“Theo, I know you like ‘How To Be a Pirate’ a lot, right,” Dream says, sitting in Sapnap’s seat. The boy nods, and Dream continues. “Well, I happen to know a lot about that book; we can talk about it, if you want to. I can also tell you about how I was once a pirate–”
“My daddy’s dating Dream!” Theo exclaims, throwing his hands up and equally throwing himself into the man who stands before him. “I’m going to have two daddies! My daddy’s going to be a pirate!”
Sapnap sighs out of relief, and he looks back to his son and Dream; the latter is looking back too, smiling back at him.
“Yeah, and your second dad is going to teach you how to be a pirate.” Dream smiles, leading Theo to the living room.
Later that night, Theo is reluctant to let Dream go, so he doesn’t, and Sapnap promises Theo that Dream wouldn’t go as Dream cleans up in the kitchen.
Dream
Date me
Sapnap’s phone pings.
Sapnap
I don’t have a choice, do I, Mr. pirate?
You have to pay a price for telling Theo all about being a pirate
Hm?
Dream
Fair enough <3