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It starts at a party he sneaks into.
María is busy with her situationship (again) after she had ditched her (again) and Evan had gotten stuck going to a convention with her (again). He loved María to bits, and he knew she did too, but it was getting exhausting. He’s had his own fair amount of messy relationships, but never involved María this directly. So, bored out of his mind in a convention he does not care for, where everyone is stuck looking at their phones or talking about people they only know through a phone, he’s bored.
He reads the sign of the private party and decides he does not care enough.
Inside, the air is stuffy and the lighting is a low purple, which makes everything look like it’s surrounded by a powerful purple haze. It’s kind of beautiful, fancier than any college party he has ever attended, and bustling at the seams with all kinds of people. He can’t quite tell what’s the general criteria for the guests, but he doesn’t really care, because the mixture of peculiar people means he fits right beside them. Some are dressed up to the nines while others, like himself, are only wearing a pair of jeans and a light jacket. It's great.
He makes a detour to the drinks table and drowns three in one go. Might as well have fun. He’s walking away from the table, his phone out to check the time, when he bumps into a man.
“Oh shit.” He says, and before he can apologize, the man makes a face at the phone and Evan pockets it swiftly, wary of any conflict (once again, he’s here without a clearance, it would look terrible if he decked a rightful guest).
“You don’t like phones?” If that’s the case, then, honestly, Evan can understand. The new age of the Internet is awful, and makes everything a little bit worse. He doesn't understand how María spends days logged in. He barely has an instagram and only follows eleven people, who follow him back. Then again, this convention seems to be filled by people made important by the internet, so…
The man shakes his hand and loses his balance a little at the gesture. Evan helps him stand up with a smile. He’s gay, and the boy is kind of cute, not pulling away. “I mean, since everyone outside is trying to get a pic… It gets tiring, that’s all.”
Evan realizes that the guy thinks he’s there to ask for a picture, and he can’t quite help the small chuckle let out. He knows he’s mildly intoxicated when what he meant as a little laugh turns into a full-on crackle, making some people around them look back.
“I don’t mean to be rude but like, as far as I know, you’re not a celebrity.” Evan says. The boy looks stumped for a moment and he thinks, damn, maybe he is , with all these new internet icons or whatever María loves to talk to him about. She’s the whole reason he’s here, after all.
With an apology ready on his tongue, he opens his mouth but promptly shuts up when all the man does in response is laughing. He laughs and it feels like everything in the world disappears, because his laughter is so full of light and candescence, he can’t help but to feel drawn to him.
“Some people around think my face is a big deal,” he says. Despite the incredibly confident words, he’s shy about it, like it wasn’t a brag but a situation to be embarrassed by. Evan was just getting to know them, but he thought these streamers are a little crazy.
On the other hand, this stranger had a good face, and he was close and getting close, and he basically towered over him and—the decision was made way before Evan could say anything about it. He was going to flirt with one of the crazy dudes.
“It is an extremely nice face,” Evan allows, taking a hand to rest on the guy’s cheek. It’s slightly raspy, and it smells nice, so Evan drops a kiss right there, thankful for the effect of three shots of something strong. He can feel the guy blush and it’s the most adorable thing in the world. He can also smell the alcohol he probably drank a few minutes before.
He can tell they’re both intoxicated but not nearly enough to affect their judgment, so, feeling adventurous he mutters, “let me see more of you?”
He doesn’t have to wait long before the other man takes his hand and directs him outside presumably to his bedroom. The excitement of a shared night is enough to suppress the shivers he feels when another man he doesn’t know stares daggers at their back. He doesn’t even look back.
Maybe he’s just jealous that he's taking anyone to bed.
He wakes up to incessant knocking on the door.
He remembers the night before more like a dream than an actual memory. He remembers nervous murmurs, confessions of being inexperienced. He remembers taking it slow and being on charge and it being so fucking good. He thinks this is one of the best hookups he’s ever had.
Before opening his eyes, he decides he just doesn’t want to be a hookup for the hot stranger.
Maybe that’s stupid, but he’s also hungover, and the knocking won’t stop, and it feels like a comforting truth in a sea of slight inconveniences.
He punches the man’s shoulder a bit and he groans too, a sound that makes Evan remember how good he felt being pinned under him. He’s still a bit horny, sue him. Still, nothing will ever happen if the knocking doesn't stop, so. He slaps the man beside him on his chest.
The guy rises to life with a tired groan and goes to fetch a t-shirt and probably open the door. Evan sneaks a few glances towards him from the bed and is pleased to see the long stripes of skin being slightly marked with the signs of Evan. A pleased feeling curls inside his tummy.
The man opens the door and has what feels like a short fight with the person on the other end of the door. There’s whispered shouting, and something about ‘ditching’ and ‘danger’, but Evan just closes his eyes and lets their voices wash away like background noise. It was too damn early.
When he opens them again, there’s a short scrape of paper with a number on it. He can’t help it but to smile.
e: hi it’s evan from the party! i had a super fun time, thank you for giving me your number
d: hi!!it’s dream :))
d: mostly wanted you to be able to tell me if you were okay and where to find you to get my keys back
d: the room is mine but my stuff is still at my friend’s room lol
e: hi :)
e: i’m free right now
e: what are you doing?
d: right now i’m getting ready for a panel
e: ohhh yeah forgot you’re one of those
e: youtubers or whatever
e: they’ve been all i’ve been seeing around lmfao i don’t get it
e: i think maría knows very little too she’s here for another group of people
d: well that’s great
d: i think it’s sweet that so many people came to see us but it’s also exhausting lol
e: ohh yeah i can imagine
e: i’m already tired and i don’t even have to like, greet a thousand people a day or something
d: haha yeah it’s like
d: wild
d: so it’s nice to meet someone that’s removed from that
e: i guess
d: i need to leave for a panel
d: ttyl ?
e: sure
…
d: hey can you bring the keys to the central table. they told us they can hold onto them if you say you found them
e: kay, owm
d: thank u
e: so how’s been today so far
…
d: sorry if i’m bad replying this is like
d: my second phone
e: damn you’re rich?
d: you could say that
d: i’d rather say organized
d: this one is mostly for merch stuff
e: you have merch? how known are you
d: how were you at a streamer con
d: without knowing anything about youtubers
e: damn are you a big deal or something? i should google you
d: don’t
d: seriously i’d rather you didn’t
d: talking to someone that doesn’t care is nice
e: i just think it’s stupid how the internet works lol
d: it’s not stupid
d: not really
e: to each their own
e: anyway won’t look you up you have my word
d: thanks man
e: damn you suck his dick and he calls you man
d: i don’t remember a lot of dick sucking occurring
e: that can change any time, loverboy
d: lmao you’re funny
d;: i’m busy but i’ll hit you up?
e: anytime
e: but actually just for today we’re leaving tomorrow
d: eh we’ll see
e: any chance you’re going to florida after this
d: wait are you from florida? srs?
e: yah lol
d: lmfao i live nearby
e: ohhh you wanna set up something after you’re done with your “duties” as a internet man
d: yeah sure
d: see you around
The man —Dream, or Clay, apparently— was a super busy one. But they still managed to sneak a few chats in and it was nice. Despite his insanely busy schedule, he always made a point of asking Evan how his day was and what he was doing. They never did anything steamy via chat, which Evan lamented, but he was starting to really like this handsome guy turned kind man.
Everything Dream shares is cut into pieces and careful. He keeps himself to his second phone, follows Evan’s small instagram with a private account but doesn’t let him follow back, and even his snapchats seem to be sent from a rarely-used account. They don’t even manage to keep a streak.
Despite all of that, Evan is stuck in the magic that is Dream, and despite seeing how dangerous it is, he can’t help but to bite the hook and be dragged into him.
d: and like i think it’s okay if they fight when it doesn’t really annoy them but whyyy do they have to involve me ToT
e: LMFAOOOO poor dude
e: i’m so sorry your life is so tragic
d: honestly!!
d: i deserve a nobel prize or some shit
e: sure you do babe
e: maría and her gf also do this to me it’s so annoying
e: more so when it’s about fashion because they assume because i’m gay i have good opinions
e: babes i’m wearing sweatshirts and a college football team shirt
d: WAIT YOU LIKE COLLEGE FOOTBALL????
d: also same lmao my girl friends hate me because i never take her advice on how to look like good
d: the fans also hate it
e: your fifty followers must be devastated you don’t wear crop tops
d: haha
e: and i do like college football sort of
d: omg
d: that’s actually amazing
d: what’s ur favorite
e: i like the florida gators
e: wbu
d: the florida gators suck
d: oklahoma is so much better
e: OKAY SOMEONE HAS STRONG OPINIONS
…
e: you did the thing again
d: sorry
d: genuinely
d: we’ve been traveling so much and i just don’t
d: well you know i’m bad about that
e: it’s okay
e: i’m letting you make it up for me
d: oh you’re letting me?
e: of course
e: come over
d: uh i actually can’t
d: it’s movie night and i can’t ditch on them
d: but we can do something tomorrow
d: there’s this national park
d: in florida
e: kay works for me
d: sure
d: see you
The day starts well. They decide to go into a bit of a secluded area, a National Park, per Dream’s suggestion. They’re dressed accordingly, comfy sweats and short sleeve shirts despite it being October, though Dream is wearing a dark mask as he stands before the entrance. Evan thinks is a little silly, but damn, also pretty cute. It fits his features nicely, Evan can’t help to think.
Despite what Evan might’ve feared, there’s no awkwardness as they’re talking, just a bit of shyness from Dream he manages to dissipate with stupid jokes and a carefree attitude. They’re soon ready to trek and —Evan hopes— get to know each other a little bit better.
A faint tune starts playing as they’re taking off and Dream stops on his tracks, Evan pauses beside him. In a second, he fishes his phone from his pocket and apologizes quietly, before answering the call. The conversation goes a little bit like:
“Hey, George!” The recipient answers with something unkind, because Dream’s face falls a little. It’s still more light up than it has been all day, and Evan feels a little squeamish about it.
“Oh, um, I’m outside right now?” Dream frowns and whoever is on the other end talks very loudly, forcing Dream to move the phone away from his ear. “Yes, I’m actually outside, alone. Well, not alone, I’m with a friend. Yeah, a guy.”
Evan giggles and makes a “hi” gesture, and Dream gives him a soft smile back, before having his attention go back to the phone call.
“Well, I didn’t know you’d be streaming today. If you had planned it, I would’ve stayed.” Dream says and Evan makes a face. Well—he supposes it’s fair, that if Dream had been busy, he might’ve canceled on them, but the idea of them only going out because he had nothing better to do still upsets him. He’s not that sure why.
They continue this back and forth for, honest to God, what feels like half an hour. For Dream’s replies, it seems like it’s just George going over and over with the same issue, and Dream replying with logical arguments. It gets boring so fast, but Evan doesn’t want to be rude. Nevermind that it’s definitely rude to take such an inconsequential call on what could very well be a date.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I’ll read your mind better next time,” Dream, honest to good, giggles. He looks so pretty doing it, lips stretching into a secretive smile, as if there was an inside joke being shared. The pit inside Evan’s stomach grows—this is a date between them , not Dream and whoever is calling him, but it sure doesn’t feel like it. Against his better judgment, he coughs, and Dream looks back at him immediately, as if he had forgotten about his existence altogether.
Evan isn’t the kind of guy to actually express what he’s thinking, not when he’s known Dream for only a little while, so he only raises his eyebrows in a silent question and hopes it comes across what he should be doing. Dream nods and goes back to the call, still laughing at something George is saying.
“Yeah, okay, we can settle this once I’m home.” Dream smiles, finally saying his goodbyes. “Uh, that’ll be in a few hours, I think. Well, I don’t know, George, when we stop hanging out. Yeah, hanging out , why are you being annoying about it? Ugh, I’ll be back. You can order food. No, I’m probably not going back early enough to make you food. Maybe. I don’t know. Bye, George. I’m serious, bye. Kay, love you.” And he finally hangs up.
Evan squirms a little, very confused about the whole thing but not knowing if asking would cross any boundaries. If Dream wanted to talk about it, he would bring it up himself, surely.
He only offers Evan a shy smile. “Sorry about that.”
The midday sun gets caught in his eyes and hair, making him look golden in the daylight. His skin looks even prettier, a new shade he hadn’t been able to appreciate in gloomy San Diego nor in dark hotel rooms. His freckles stand out more in the sun, lovely details that make him look so soft. He stands before him, awkward hands placed by his sides, and yet he looks cute, like the cutest thing that has ever existed. It makes him want to kiss him, kind of, but he isn’t sure where they stand in the open. He knows Dream’s internet “fame” (something that still feels very silly to say) makes him afraid of the outdoors, but he also wonders if it would be appropriate to ask him to ditch the whole date and drag him to his bed for a bit. He’s just—insanely into Dream, the way he has never been into anyone, and it makes him do so many things and feel in so many ways.
Instead of expressing that and being seen as a crazy, too intense person, he just says: “It’s okay. Let’s keep walking?”
Dream smiles again and nods. The phone call is filled away in his mind, but forgotten for the time being, choosing to focus on the feeling of Dream’s presence beside him.
—
Dream ends up leaving a little two hours after, just as they finish looking around the national park. As they’re getting outside, they both laugh about how sticky and hot they are feeling, but he can’t feel the way his eyes linger on Dream’s arms, where he had taken his shirt off because of the heat and excursion. For being a “youtuber” (which, Dream had explained on the walk, meant a lot of time being sat in front of a screen), he has an excellent physique, and Evan can’t help but to daydream of repeating these outdoor activities with someone that genuinely seems to enjoy both the day out and his company. Most of his friends either are not up to the task (María had gone out with him like this once, and never again) or are on the casual side, a person he can’t imagine talking for more than half an hour.
Conversation with Dream happened easily, and Evan was smitten with his speech habits and the way he always seemed to be listening intensely to Evan when it was his turn. He was certainly clever, able to draw amazing and solid arguments in a matter of minutes, while still having a clear sense of empathy and kindness Evan knew not anyone possessed. His thoughts about the future were hopeful and resolute, and Evan found himself desiring to have the same faith of humanity Dream clearly had.
Overall, it was a very, very nice day.
They arrive at Evan’s place and Evan makes a quick dinner while Dream takes a shower and changes into normal clothes; Evan plans on asking him to stay the night but when he gets out he tells him he’s leaving in half an hour, something about a pet being hostage or something silly like that. Evan takes it for the cheap excuse it is and nods, because honestly, they’re just getting to know each other. He can take it slow.
When they’re saying goodbye, Evan can’t help but to grab his hand and squish a little. Dream looks conflicted, looking down at him with a silent question. “Just felt like saying goodbye properly. See you soon. And say hi to George .”
Dream smiles, but strangely enough, it doesn’t really reach his eyes. Evan can’t decipher what it means, though, because a second after he’s leaving and closing the door behind him.
e: can’t believe you forgot about me literally the day after we saw each other
d: i’m so sorry
d: i arrived and they instantly roped me into cooking
d: they’re actually children
e: lmao
e: still, i’m going to put an alarm on your phone
e: everyday like clockwork: text evan
d: lmao
d: sure thing
d: anyway i will be a bit more busy these next weeks
d: we have a lot scheduled
e: ah yes the busy life of a streamer
d: i know you don’t take it seriously but the amount of management this requires is crazy
e: whatever i understand
e: not like i’m unemployed
e: its just very funny to me
d: ya i know
d: point is won’t be able to do shit for a week
e:: :( wait whatttt
e: you can’t do this to me
e: how will i live without you
e: and your gigant dick
d: you’re so stupid
d: flattery won’t get me less busy
e: but if i say i really need your dick will you reconsider
d: we’re not doing this
d: these kind of conversations are dangerous
d: like historial and all of that
e: oh
e: sorry my bad
d: np
d: you did nothing wrong really it’s just the paranoia
e: it’s okay
e: anyway good luck on your week i guess
…
d: hi
e: the fact you literally took a week astounds me
d: sorry
d: i’m back! that’s good right?
e: it won’t be settled until you come over
d: tomorrow works?
e: yah, same time
e: you could even stay for the weekend or something if you’re finally free
d: we’ll see
Evan doesn’t really think too much of it. They’re out, they’re eating, and they’re having fun. Evan knows he’s cleaning up nicely, a black turtleneck he knows makes him look good, a bunch of gold jewelry, and some nice slacks. Dream doesn’t look so bad himself: he’s dressed up a bit more casually, but still clearly tidied up, a blue sweater he had described as “merch” and jeans that look nicely together. He had requested to be seated at one of the semi hidden tables of the restaurant, so the atmosphere is intimate and Evan is going a little crazy about it.
Unnaturally, he gets an urge to take a picture. He knows Dream is wary of those, another thing related to the whole “youtuber” stuff, so he knows he wouldn’t like a picture of his face. But if he angles it just right…
He snaps a picture of Dream looking back on the table, face completely unseen, and the angle makes it so his rings are also hidden. The only thing present that could identify him would be his golden necklace, but he assumes it wouldn’t be such a big deal. After all, he has literally no followers in his account.
Despite such a little audience, he’s eager to do a bit of a soft launch.
He doesn’t tag Dream or anything, only puts a filter that makes the pic look cooler and adds the simple caption of “date night” in the middle of the pic. He grins, thinking about finally telling María something regarding his love life, and posts on his story. He settled the phone down the moment the waitress came over with their food. He doesn’t think much about it.
They eat well and Dream insists on paying. Despite Dream’s secretive tendencies and bad texting habits, Evan thinks he could get used to this
—
The night ends in Evan’s apartment, and the second they get in, Dream excuses himself to go to the bathroom. Evan takes this time to get himself ready, taking his clothes off in a way he knows he looks debauched and attractive. After a week of nothing, he’s really looking forward to Dream taking him apart. However, when Dream comes out, he does so with an uneasy expression and with his phone in his hands.
Evan makes a little questioning sound.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about.” Dream says, serious, looking at some point of the wall behind Evan. “Um, before anything.”
His voice is tense and his body language is—closed up, which is a word he had never thought he would describe Dream with. Evan puts his shirt on again, shame filling his gut for a bit. He was ready for them to get to the good part and it feels a little silly now.
“Did I—misread, um, what this is supposed to mean?” Evan says, unable to be anything but awkward. “I mean, you’re in my apartment, it’s getting late, you can stay the night…?”
“No. I mean, yes. I mean,” Dream looks like a deer in the headlights, frozen in place in front of Evan and unable to say any words. Evan tilts his head to the side in a silent question, and Dream pulls his hands away. In a second, blaring red lights start
“You just said—you posted, uh, about your date. Me, I mean.”
“Oh. Oh .”
“It occurred to me we haven’t really spoken about how we’re going to, like, do this, or what this is . Because we hooked up. And it was good! And, aside from that, I do like hanging with you. But I can’t, I mean, they’re not really—dates? Because. Because.”
He feels his frown furrow with little control on his own part. “Because what ?” Evan says, and he knows he’s probably being unfair, that Dream has a stutter when he’s nervous, but it feels like he is also holding Evan’s head underwater.
“So there’s this… guy.” Dream says, nervously, playing with his hands on his lap. Evan’s blood goes cold and the pit in his stomach makes itself present so quickly it makes him feel sick. “I need to tell you about him, because I’m, I don’t think I’m being fair.”
“I’ve liked him ever since before meeting in person. For a very, very long time. And I swore to never meet anyone else in real life before him; and, like, not reveal my face. That’s why it’s such a big deal for me, because I haven’t really had my face be known for years. He—he’s wonderful, and resourceful, and smart, and nice, and I—care too much about him to destroy what we’ve had. So,”
Dream sighs. Evan can’t breathe.
“And— I know this isn’t, like, serious, or anything, but it still felt shitty if you didn’t know. I’m—I like him so much. But it’s, like, complicated. So I was looking to distract myself, that day, with the drinks and—”
Evan can’t breathe.
Dream, true to his word, looks genuinely upset with the information he’s providing, despite the words not serious and I like him so much cutting daggers into Evan’s heart. Is as if he’s upset he’s even disrupting Evan’s air. “I’m very sorry if you got the wrong idea, I just thought, like, we said we were fucking around a little but maybe you misinterpreted that—and it wouldn’t really be your fault, ‘cause I know I can be super vague, and confusing, sometimes, specially when I don’t quite know what I, um, want.”
“How so?” Evan whispers, voice hanging by a thread,
Dream sighs, forlorn. “I’m like, into you. Like seriously. You’re fun and, like, obviously hot. But I— really lo–like this friend. Like a lot. And I have for a while. I don’t think these feelings are going away any time soon, and I don’t really want to, you know?” Dream runs a hand through his hair, messing it up more. Despite his best efforts, his curls fall again on his forehead and he huffs a laugh. “Do you know when you love someone so hard that it makes the entire world a better place?”
No , he thinks, but I could learn if you’d let me .
“What I mean is,” Dream continues, “Is that, um, I’m conflicted. I would totally try to date you if I wasn’t emotionally compromised,” he says with a little smile at the absurdity; Evan aches to mimic his expression. “But I am and it’s not fair for you if you do, um, want to have a serious relationship. I can’t give that to you, is what I mean.”
He quiets down and so does Evan, to think. He thinks about the last few weeks and how crazy everything has been so far: he thinks of San Diego, of the thrill of finding a warm body in the middle of a dancefloor; he thinks of a dark room and a blushed boy and teaching and how good that felt; he thinks of the way their hands interlock together, not perfectly by any means but still lovely and warm and beautiful. He thinks of a string of texts, of small but momentous calls, he thinks about a man who is good to anyone he meets. He thinks about a man that doesn’t know half the things he does to his heart.
“Okay,” Evan says, mostly to fill in the silence in between them. He makes a hasty movement with his hands towards the empty space between them. “What does that mean for this?” Us, us, us.
Dream looks stunned. “Well, I suppose if what I understood was right, you’d rather not continue this—arrangement.”
“But you wouldn't mind?” Evan presses. He thinks of irrational decisions, of a heartache he could never heal, he thinks he’s very stupid.
“Um. Not particularly? What we have,” sex, almost weekly texts, pseudo-dates, “is good. I think?”
“Okay.” Evan nods. “Then I don’t mind continuing this.”
Because Evan is a fool. An honest to god, idiot, helpless to awkward smiles and big hands and a boy who doesn’t even know half of it. He wonders how Dream’s friend isn’t in love with him, how he’s capable of resisting this boy that’s just too sweet and too perfect, all saccharine and brown curls, strong jaw and nice shoulders. He would ask for advice, but then again, he won’t resist the pull of the man. He wants everything that Dream’s willing to give him for as long as he does; he feels a muddled sort of happiness, a dirty vindication thinking about that poor man that doesn’t even know what he’s missing. Evan moves so that his thighs are strandling Dream’s legs, sitting himself right on his lap.
“I’m more than okay with this,” He says with a smirk. Poor fucking bastard , Evan thinks.
Then again, he’s probably straight, so eh. More for Evan.
Dream’s big, almost doe eyes scan his face, as if looking for any signs of deceiving or hurt lingering, but Evan is a master at this, and offers a soft kind of smile. Dream is so kind it hurts, because all he wants to do is for him to like him back, but if he told Dream so, he’d hurt himself trying to fit him in. And that won’t do.
So he leans down and whispers to his lips: “I really appreciate the honesty, Dream. But I’m okay with this. After all,” and Evan makes a show of grabbing Dream’s thigh sharply and positioning Dream right where he wants him. “We never really discussed what we were. I was in from the start for the sex.”
Dream inhales sharply. “Are you sure?”
Evan kisses away what remains of his sanity.
“So he told you you were basically a rebound,” María says.
“Yup.”
“And you fucked him.”
“Yup.”
“In fact, you spent the night with him in your department. With him making you breakfast, because he’s just like that.”
“Yeah.”
María looks at him. In all their years being friends, he doesn't think she has ever looked more disappointed.
“You’re a fucking disaster,” she sighs, and promptly shuts up when a notification on her phone sounds, the tell-tale sign her situationship has texted her.
“There’s something about a pot calling a kettle…?” Evan murmurs with humor, resting his face in the —honestly disgusting— Starbucks counter, mindful of not kicking his own drink. That would top the disgusting beginning of the week he had already had. First, Dream dipping after their taxing day together; secondly, the awful 59°F he had been forced to confront this morning to face María. He felt the side of his cheek freeze with how cold everything was and he repressed a shiver.
She makes a shush motion to answer him and clicks a reply in her phone way too quickly, before turning the phone off and putting all her disproving attention back on him. “When did he leave?”
“The other morning,” he yawns, because Dream had woken up at 6 am sharp to get back to his house, despite them literally living in the same state. He knows states are huge, but he couldn’t live that farther away, Evan thought. He had been kind about it too, apologizing profusely for waking Evan up and promising to make up for him sometime soon, before he ran out of the studio with all his things. Evan discovered, upon finally getting himself out of the bed at 9, that he had taken the time to cook him a breakfast before dipping, a French toast that was cold the moment Evan saw it.
He still ate it.
“So what’s the plan?” María says, taking a little sip of her own drink and frowning slightly. Evan groaned because he himself had no idea where he had gotten into. “You’re gonna fuck him into oblivion while being in love with him and then die when he inevitably dips?”
Evan whines. “I don’t know…” To avoid answering more, because he feels his mouth curling around the words, he takes a sip of his Coffee and simply frowns towards the table.
Because the plan—there is no plan. Dream had said they have no plans to date, and that’s fine, obviously, but he could also see Dream’s pain regarding his crush. And he was too in depth to not at least fantasize about it: perhaps, if he sticks long enough, if he manages to show to Dream just how good he can be, then there could be a chance for them to be serious. He knew it would be a long and stupid game, but he had never been as fascinated with anyone before. He felt like a new man by virtue of having been touched by Dream, and he thought—he thought.
“I don’t like that smile one bit,” María deadpanned. “Not after we are talking about a man that will definitely destroy you.”
Evan only ducked to hide his smile. The plan was cemented in his mind.
e: hi
d: hi
e: so i was thinking
d: ?
e: like ik they’re not dates now
d: right
e: but i still like hanging out with you
e: maybe like
e: we should keep that up
d: if you want?
d: i like it i just
d: don’t want you to get false hopes
d: thats all
e: ey don’t worry about me
e: it’s chill
d: nice :)
d: we can set up something later
e: sure
e: how was ur morning
d: okay so george did this
d: crazy thing
…
e: hey what are the odds i ever meet ur place
d: you would want to?
e: yeah!
e: it’s like a whole different thing
e: do you know how much you can learn about a person with that
d: never thought about it
d: let me think abt it?
e: oh yeah ofc
e: just saying
…
e: so like that’s why it’s really fucking stupid how they changed
e: mori should’ve been endgame
e: fuck them white people
d: haha
d: hey
e: hey yourself
d: were you serious abt coming over
e: yeah sure
e: but if u don’t want it’s okay
d: no i was thinking
d: it’s time you properly meet my friends
e: yoooo cool!!!!
e: when ?
d: this monday?
d: i can pick you up
e: ohhh what a gentleman
e: kay sure i’m available from 5pm
d: works for me. i can pick you up at 6?
e: sweet
e: see you
Evan has tried four of his best outfits. None is working. María is crackling from his phone, where they’re calling from Facetime.
It’s officially five pm. T-minus an hour until Dream comes to pick him up.
“Stop laughing!” He whines, covering his reddening face with his hands. María only gets louder.
“You’re pathetic. Why are you acting like you’re about to propose or talk with his parents? It’s literally just his friends.” She sneers, but it’s the kind of ferocity she saves for Dream related stuff, which basically means: you’re being stupid about it but I love you so I support you. He’s glad for her, truly, but he wishes she was a little more fake so he could feel better about the stupid situation he’s in.
“Shut up, these are like, his favorite people in the world. They need to like me, or else he’s like, I don't know. I can’t fuck this up.” He says, tugging on a black shirt. He’s struggling with the buttons, and doesn’t know if it looks enough put together.
María sighs. “Yeah, but they’re also straight gamer men, I don’t think they’re gonna care if you’re matching perfectly.”
Evan resists the urge to scream. “But I will care!”
“You’re stupid.”
Evan feels the, very strange, need to throttle his best friend since highschool. A scathing remark will do.
“Look, I know you’re pissed because that girl you love finally found a girl she
wanted
to date, but I need your help looking good, right now.” He says.
He knows he’s going to apologize later, but in his defense, María is being a bitch.
She huffs. “Good luck, then. The burgundy pants with that black shirt look tacky, by the way.”
With a miserable look at the mirror in front of him, Evan realizes she’s right. The pants and the shirt are oversized, so he looks like he just has no clothes of his own, as if he was borrowing from his father. Also, the colors clash together instead of supporting each other nicely, like he had imagined they could. He needs to kill himself.
“I need to kill myself.” He says, for good measure. María just scoffs.
“You’re the one letting yourself get hurt by a baby queer.”
Evan ignored the double edged sword and went to fetch another shirt. Maybe he could try using light blue…
There’s something about knowing a person has money, and becoming aware of how much money a person has.
First insane thing of the day is that Dream picks him up with a Tesla. A fucking Tesla . And Evan thought keeping two phones was insane.
Dream smiles when he points that out and shows him three phones from the driver seat; Evan wishes he had the capacity to shut his jaw. All three phones are last generation iPhones, stuff Evan knows would cost his entire month-pay and then some. And Evan knows he isn’t even middle class, by any means. He’s well off and this is still—insane.
“This is the one I used to text you. It’s got like, most of my industry contacts, all that jazz. This other,” and he shows another white iPhone, “is for family and close friends. The last one is honestly just a backup in case shit goes down with any of the three, I usually keep it in my house, but this time I forgot to take it from my pocket.” Dream offers him a smile.
He wonders if he’d look too bad if he asks Dream to pay for his postgraduate education.
“Wow,” is all he says. “I didn’t quite realize you were—actually rich.” Dream shrugs and puts his arms on his seat to look back and get them outside of the very tight parking lot outside his studio. Evan can’t help it but to look at him very, very intensely.
He’s just a very gay man, alright.
“It’s not something I’m used to, still. It feels weird talking about it.” Dream says as they take off, one hand lazily over the Tesla and looking at the window only from time to time. Evan tenses at the lack of attention but, well, he supposes Dream knows how to maneuver such a vehicle if he owns it. Probably . “I became famous during the pandemic, and then I spent a year inside my house waiting, so it’s been an adjustment.”
“Oh, yeah, waiting for the friend.” He says, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He feels Dream looking at him from the corner of his eyes but he doesn't say anything.
“Of course, I wouldn’t be anywhere near where I am without him. George is, like, a genius.” Dream says. Evan’s skin prickles at how his voice, sweet as honey, praises another man, one who isn’t sitting in his car and who doesn’t like him back. “He helped me create my career from the start, did I tell you that? I just always assume everyone knows, because I’ve said it a lot on, like, the internet, but it’s actually incredible…”
Dream's smile is evident in his voice, and he knows if he turned over to see him, he’d see the grin in all his glory. He finds he doesn’t have much control, and so he nods to Dream to speak more. The man beams.
“He was like, fresh out of Uni, or like, in his very first job and I had this idea—”
As they ride to Dream’s house and he chats away about how amazing George is, Evan can’t help but to feel he might’ve made a huge mistake. Still, guiltily, Dream’s voice is soothing and warm and he allows himself to indulge. If not now, when?
The house wasn’t better. That was because it wasn’t a house, but a mansion.
Each house in this neighborhood had at least an acre, or maybe two. It was like his parents house, but bigger, fuller and better taken care of, and just so bright and clearly amazing. Evan feels tiny just by standing before it.
He enters behind Dream, who shows him absently where to lay his jumper and to follow him to the living room, which connects to the dining table and kitchen.
Then, from the stairs, a figure walks down and stands frozen once he reaches the end of the steps.
“George!” Dream exclaims, delighted, and Evan realizes that this is the friend. Honestly, it makes sense, everything considered (the call, the descriptions, the mentions) but it just clicks when he sees Dream’s expression and his eyes dart involuntarily towards the man, the object of his never-ending affection.
George is—small. That’s the first detail he notices. He’s pretty, he notices a second later, with very delicate features, fair skin and messy black hair. He looks exceptionally small as he’s wearing a black oversized hoodie with a white smiley face in the middle of it. Faintly, he remembers a bunch of people using similar hoodies and shirts, back at the convention that started this all. Aside from that, he’s wearing tiny black shorts and some socks with no shoes, which make Evan feel kind of awkward about still using his own. Was this a shoeless house? Did he already fuck up?
“Hello,” he says, voice careful.
“So this is…?” George says, face inscrutable. Evan can feel himself sweating and wants to die of shame. He’s trusting his deodorant with his life, at the moment.
“George, you knew Evan was coming,” Dream rolls his eyes. “I’ve mentioned him before.”
The idea warms Evan’s heart (that as much as Dream has told him about his friends, he has also talked about him with them). George gives him an onceover and something must be seen in his face, because he gives him a knowing look instantly.
“Ohhh. He’s the guy, I see.” There’s something wrong about his voice, which before had only been uninterested, was now downright hostile. He slips his eyes from his face and at once, it feels like he can finally breathe. He doesn’t know how George’s stare had affected him so much, but once it’s over, he resolves to not letting him affect him anymore. He’s confident and he’s here next to Dream, so nothing can really go wrong.
He insists that this is just an overprotective friend looking out for his friend. With Dream’s kindness, he understands well the desire to lock him up and care for him forever, so he never gets hurt. But there’s something—wrong, still, about the whole thing.
“Is he the reason why you cooked something extra nice?” George asks, not even sparing a glance to Evan.
“Sort of. He was coming over so I thought it would be nice to finally show him my amazing cooking skills,” he gives him a fleeting smile, ending too soon when he looks back at George. “You also finished setting up that plug-in, so we’re celebrating because of that, too.”
George smiles. It doesn’t look natural, despite Evan not even knowing what a natural smile would look in George. “I see. Well, it is true, you cook for me all the time. We shouldn’t be gatekeeping.”
Evan gives an awkward laugh. “Well, I know he can cook well. When he stays over he makes breakfast for us.”
George pins him with a look. He doesn’t stop smiling, seemingly unaffected by the addition, but Dream tenses slightly beside him.
“Is that so? Prepare to be blown away, I guess.”
He leaves without another word. When Evan looks to Dream in an attempt to gauge his reaction, all he can see is a pout on his face. Once Dream notices he’s looking, he schools his features and signals him to move forward.
Dream has never been one to be able to hide his expressions. He wonders what it is about the whole thing that upset him this much.
He’s helpless but to follow.
He meets the other roommate, and it’s a very different situation. Nick, or Sapnap apparently, comes out of his room the moment he smells food and barely pays attention to Evan. They get introduced formally (and Dream scolds Nick for being rude) but nothing monumental happens after it. He doesn’t try to make conversation with him and Evan is okay with him being shy.
It’s at dinner where shit actually goes down.
He’s signaled to sit in front of Dream, and so he does. The other two members of the table sit quietly, George beside Dream and Sapnap beside himself. It was a nice table, and he noticed it had the ability to be expanded. He wondered how many people stayed in their house on a daily basis; it felt like a whole new world he couldn’t imagine had opened up before him.
Dream makes quick work of putting the plates on the table, explaining he made some kind of meat soup that looks delicious on his plate and has Evan salivating before he can eat it. As he’s about to take a bite, he notices movements on the door right beside him.
“Oh! Who’s that?” He asks, seeing a little cat stand in the living room door. Dream’s face lights up.
“Oh, yes, forgot to introduce you. This is Patches! She’s my cat.” Dream smiles as he gestures for her to get closer, but she stays far away, looking suspiciously towards Evan himself. Dream gives him an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, she’s kinda shy.”
George scoffs. “Wow, Dream, you didn’t even tell him about
Patches
.” He says, looking directly at the man with a knowing expression. What he knew, Evan didn’t know, but it’s enough to make Dream’s face be painted red.
Dream splutters. “I just—it hasn’t come up, that’s all!”
Evan smiles good naturally and rolls his eyes. “Maybe if you texted me more, I’d have met her.”
“He doesn’t text you a lot?“ And this is the first time George has directed his words towards him all evening, he’s sure, but still isn’t looking at him. From the corner of his eye, he can see Sapnap tense and he wonders what kind of dangers this particular tone of voice holds. He blinks and looks at his plate.
“Um, not really. He’s, like, a very bad texter.” He laughs a bit and looks at Dream, who offers a small smile back. George just huffs a laugh.
“I really wouldn’t know.” George says, and it really, really looks like preening. “Like, when me and Dream lived in different countries, we would call everyday, did you know that?”
Evan really, really didn’t.
George doesn’t care for a verbal confirmation, because he continues without missing a beat. “Yeah, it was crazy. We spent hours togethers just doing nothing or talking day and night. I think our record was like, thirty-five hours, wasn’t it?”
His face is the picture of innocence, Evan doesn’t realize there’s anything to it before Sapnap almost chokes on his food with laughter. When the three of them turn to look at him, he apologizes meekly, but with a firm smile on his face, and continues eating.
Dream speaks, a flustered expression. “No, it was, um. It was fifty, I think.”
Evan’s jaw drops. “What? Are you serious?” He can’t imagine being that close to a phone, let alone spending fifty hours next to it. Not that thirty was any more sane time frame. Dream looks downright embarrassed, but George seems pleased with the reaction.
“Yeah, we just love each other's company so much, you know. It’s like an us thing.” George says lightly. But Evan feels the tension, somewhat. Sapnap moves a bit beside him, like he also feels whatever weird thing George is implying. “It was something we were known for. Now we just spend everyday, like, together, but we still text a lot.”
For the first time since the food was served, Sapnap speaks. “He’s not lying, they’re the only ones who can stand each other.”
“
Sapnap
,” Dream admonishes. He’s holding his face in his elbow prompted against the table (and he can’t keep out the thought that it’s
such bad manners
), hiding half his face. He looks mortified in front of him.
The man just shrugs, as if he had nothing to regret. Evan darts his eyes around. “That’s, uh, funny. I thought Dream was just a bad texter.”
Sapnap hums. “I mean, he is. But George is the exception.”
Of course he is.
“I see.”
George smiles again, raising his spoon to eat. The moment the spoon touches his tongue, though, he screams and drops the spoon to the plate, a loud clatter that startles both him and Sapnap and makes Patches scatter away. Dream is by his side in seconds.
“Hey, what’s wrong, what happened?” Dream says, worry clear in his face. George, honest to God, whines.
“This is hot !” George exclaims, looking genuinely upset about it. Evan looks promptly to the bowl, where it’s still steaming hot, and thinks, no shit . Dream starts touching George’s wrists and his jaw, as if looking to heal him with hands. If Evan didn’t know better, he’d say it was the scene of a very dramatic play, not a twenty-something being mildly inconvenienced.
Dream huffs a laugh as if he was thinking the same thing, yet his eyes remain slightly worried. “You need to be careful, George. Do you want anything?”
“Hm, can I get a water bottle? Please?” He says, still frowning a little, but looking back like there was no other person in the whole world capable of ever doing such a simple task. Dream nods readily.
“Of course, be back in a second.” And practically dashes away from the table. The moment he’s gone, George’s soft expression turns into a sour one, and he looks at Sapnap, still ignoring Evan’s existence.
“You need to stop taking advantage,” Sapnap says, amused. George makes a face.
“I’m not , I burnt my tongue. Genuinely,” George defends, as if offended his pain is taken as anything but serious.
Sapnap laughs quietly and continues eating his food in peace, because apparently this was just an everyday thing Evan was allowed to expectate. He had heard stories of the famous roommates, of course, of the trouble they got into and involved Dream with, of the times after and before them being physically together, and heard the minimum about the fights. But this kind of comfortableness—he knew it came from more than time and proximity.
Evan is not an idiot. He knew he would never fit in.
Not when one of them was treating him like a threat, and the other like he didn’t even exist.
Dream chose this moment to be back, carrying a personalized water bottle. He couldn’t quite make out what the design was, but he believed it was some kind of goggles. He put the bottle softly in front of George and he took it in a second, drinking the water greedily. Evan thought it was a little too much. Or maybe he really was thirsty. He didn’t know. He didn’t think he knew anything anymore.
“Thank you,” George said sweetly. Dream’s blush was clear from a mile away.
Despite not being really hungry, Evan took a bite of the soup.
It was already cold.
Dinner progressed more or less the same.
Every moment, it was Dream and George, like nobody else existed on the table, or the world. The entire universe disappeared, and while it didn’t particularly seem to bother Sapnap, eating in his little corner of the world and texting occasionally, it annoyed Evan to death. Not only was this very bad hosting manners, his heart clenched realizing just how in deep Dream was about this guy. He literally had him wrapped around his finger and hanging on his every word, and it was sickening, in the way jealousy makes you choke on your own spit.
Whenever he could get Dream’s attention, it was instantly shut down by George, who literally breathed and caught Dream’s eyes again. Every intersection and comment Evan could make was instantly overshadowed by whatever anecdote or thought George had.
As he finished his dinner, and George was finishing telling this incredible story about this one fish he saw on an English beach—”it was just, really huge! it amazed me!”— Evan decided he had enough. Sapnap, the only one out of the trio he held any respect for anymore, was already gone.
“And, like, it’s very funny. Wilbur said he had never seen a Black Bream that big before,” George said, with a proud smile, as if he had personally created the fish. “And it was, so cool.”
“Right.” Evan said, just to add to the conversation. George doesn’t even spare him a glance.
That’s fine. Evan can work with that. “Anyway, Dreamie, can we go upstairs? I finished.”
He gives his best smile. He knew the theater lessons were actually useful.
“Um, I mea—” Dream starts, but George cuts him off.
“He can’t. He needs to help me with editing. It’s very important for our careers. Sorry.” George makes what would be a good upset face, if he hadn’t been bitchy right until now.
“Oh, but he invited me over. We should have some alone time.” Evan says, and grabs Dream’s hand from where it’s resting on the table with a little smile. He sees George’s jaw go taunt.
“I just don’t think—” Dream tries again, and George cuts him off again.
George doesn’t even pretend to be nice anymore. He looks Evan dead in the eye and says, seriously. “I think if he hadn’t asked you for alone time, then he doesn’t really want it, does he?” Dream darks his eyes back and forth between the two of them, but always lingering on George, and it makes him sick .
“Hm, I don’t know, I like to have the lead in these kinds of things.”
He winks. George looks disgusted and scoffs.
“Imagine being a one night stand,” he says slowly, angry, affected , “and thinking you know the guy.”
He knows exactly what to say to make George regret it. “Well, at least the guy wanted to sleep with me. Not whatever weird foreplay you’re trying to have here.”
And he’s right. George’s meticulous unbothered mask breaks open and the frown he sees is truly gorgeous. After spending at least an hour being ignored to hell and back, being the reason he looks taken aback and hurt and annoyed is glorious.
He doesn’t get to revel on his pride because then Dream barks, “Evan! What the fuck?!”, slapping his hand away and the sky comes crashing down.
The stare Dream gives him—it’s nothing like it had been before. It isn't quite appreciation, nor lust, nor happiness, not even awkwardness as it had been all dinner. It’s pure and unfiltered anger against him, for defending himself, and it’s Evan’s last strike.
“What’s going on here, since when are you two fighting?! What the fuck!”
He's done. “Oh, of course it’s me cursing George that makes you react. How considerate, Dream.”
“No, okay, listen—”
“I won’t listen to shit. I’m going to any fucking room on this stupid mansion, sleeping over because I don’t know where the fuck we are, you secretive asshole, and you’re driving me home tomorrow.” He grabs his things from the floor beside the table, and makes a hasty exit, still seething but only comforted by the knowledge that he stuck the knife and twisted it inside of George.
“What kind of people are you getting involved with?” He hears George spit.
Before leaving the living room, he speaks back. “Very nice to meet you too!”
He can’t sleep.
He doesn’t think he will be able to. After everything that was dinner in this hell of a mansion, being humiliated to hell and back and not even getting to sleep in Dream’s bedroom, he’s just about done and just wants to rush to the morning to get to his own place and maybe rip Dream a new one. But sleep seems to elude him, so he’s even more grumpy about that.
He makes the executive decision that if he isn’t going to sleep, he’s at least going to eat something better than a half dinner. Surely the kitchen of a man this rich holds many expensive snacks. He makes his way around the house, conscious of not getting lost in the mess of rooms and offices this house is.
He is about to step into the kitchen when he hears their voices. He makes the executive decision to hide himself beside the door frame, and—he does a little bit of eavesdropping.
He feels that, after the hell he was put through, he deserves it a little bit.
“I just don’t know why you even bought him here. Like, he could figure it out any minute.” George scoffs. From his point in the kitchen door, he can barely see his expression, but his shoulders are tense and he’s clearly hugging his body with his own arms. “It makes me nervous how he acts like he doesn’t know anything about us. We’ve been trending internationally for days, fuck, your face reveal was seen by millions!”
“Evan doesn’t know, and even then, it doesn’t matter. He’s my friend,” Dream rolls his eyes but mimicks George’s arms easily. Evan feels a little bit sick to his stomach.
“Sure he is. He looks at you like he can’t wait to jump your bones.” George deadpans and Dream chokes. Evan also has to take a step back and consciously keep quiet, because he knows how pathetically into Dream he is, but it isn’t necessary to expose him like that. George sounds apathetic and fucking mean, he can’t understand how Dream is so in love with such a rude person. (Evan ignores the bitter feelings, certainly muddling whatever good impression he could’ve had of George; the softness in Dream’s eyes would’ve made him hate anyone).
Dream wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. George’s eyes seem to trace the gesture, but he can’t be too sure. “W-well, he must find me somewhat attractive, we hooked up. So.”
“So you’ve said.” George says, cold as ice. “Why aren’t you two hooking up, right fucking now?”
Ouch. But also, an amazing question, Evan would love to know the answer.
“George,” Dream admonishes, turning his face to the side, probably flustered in the way he always is when someone brings up sex outside the bedroom. He’s cute like that. Evan can’t understand what it is to have him alone and flushed and not want him immediately.
“Just a question,” he murmurs. George seems to be still on edge, but some border must’ve been passed without intention, because he recedes easily.
“...You guys are in the house, I would never do anything like that with you two, like, here.”
“So, if we fuck off tomorrow you’re gonna fuck him? That’s what you’re saying?” He replies, newfound intent on hurting. “So if we went to North California for a week you two would fuck like rabbits all over the house?”
Dream takes a step back as if physically wounded. “Jesus Christ, George, of course not. I just wanted you two to meet him. He’s my friend .”
“You can’t fuck a person and be their friend, Dream, that’s not how it fucking works!” George groans, as if pained with Dream’s reaction. If Evan could see him, maybe he would see him rolling his eyes. “I know you’re like, new to this, but you need hard limits for this thing. There’s, like, a clear conversation you need to have, because it’s so obvious he wants to date you, and like, you’re basically leading him on, and it’s weird for both parties but also for me, because, you’re making us meet this person that clearly likes you and you like back, and it’s, like, so fucking weird.”
From his place, he can see the conflicted expression in Dream’s face. With a sharp intake of air he begs to go unnoticed, he realizes this is the same face Dream made when he gutted him open, when he admitted to him he was basically a second place medal. “He knows I can’t date him. He knows why, and he understands. He’s said he doesn’t mind, why is that so hard to believe?”
Silence.
“Dream,” George says, voice soft like velvet, nothing like the icy, sharp sentences he had given so far. It’s adorable, and Evan physically recoils before the feelings poorly disguised in such a voice. “So many people would do stupid things to get a piece of you. You don’t know how good you are.”
“George, what—”
George laughs. A short, bittersweet thing. “I heard there was a fucking idiot that even moved countries.”
He flees. Evan has to thank whatever God up there gave him fast thinking skills, because he pulls himself to the wall, in the dark, just the second George passes beside him. He assumes he isn’t seen by the way George takes the stairs two in two. From inside the kitchen, Dream doesn’t even shuffle, silent.
Afraid of being discovered by a now-alert Dream, Evan flees the scene too. Sleep hardly comes in the coldness of the room.
He thinks about it. He knew it was hopeless, but he still thinks about it.
He’s obviously disappointed. He had held hope, obviously, but now he knows that not only are Dream’s feelings stuck deep into his chest, but they’re also requited. It would be an asshole move to keep pursuing anything with two people so clearly meant for each other and Evan is many things—but not that.
It also hurts, but the kind of hurt you see coming.
So he thinks about it, and he sleeps a little, and by ten in the morning he has a vague idea in his head.
The conclusions he arrives to are:
- Dream is a fucking idiot. Sadly for Evan, is the idiot he likes. Lucky for Dream himself, is also the idiot George likes.
- George is mean, but only when he feels threatened. He must be actually wonderful if he’s loved by Dream, he decides. Evan hates him for personality-unrelated reasons, but it’s a hatred he will forget soon.
- Sapnap is awkward and it’s kind of funny how he just stands over there.
- Evan is going to do what he should’ve done the moment he realized where this was going and fucking dip.
So he gets ready and walks towards the kitchen, intent on at least stealing a bread or something for the ride home. He thinks eating Dream’s cooking would make him sick with the knowledge he now holds. Unluckily for his walk of shame success, he finds Dream standing in the very same kitchen, almost in the position he last saw him last night. He almost feels concerned with the idea that he hasn’t moved, stuck into place by George’s words.
“Hey,” Dream says, quiet, as he looks up from his bowl of cereal.
Evan blinks at him.
“Um, I wanted to apologize for yesterd—” he starts, but Evan silences him with only a movement of his hand.
“None of that. Take me to my place?” He requests kindly, seeing Dream’s crestfallen face.
The man looks down and nods. “Okay.”
Getting into the car and to the main road is—awkward. Everything feels awkward now, with Dream, and Evan misses their comfortability and budding relationship but understands this is way better. Dream keeps quiet but it’s clear by his fidgeting that he’s feeling the same tension Evan is.
“Okay. Listen,” Evan starts, feeling wholly unprepared for the conversation they’re about to have but well aware it’s necessary. He can feel Dream’s fleeting eyes on his face. “Yesterday was a shitshow, and I need you to understand that none of it was your fault. It was George and I, and like, I don’t know how George usually is, but I can imagine he isn’t like that usually.”
Dream is speaking before he can even finish the phrase. “George is not like that, I don’t even know what happened yesterday, but I’m still so sorry, he should’ve been way better than that. Like, I don’t know why—”
“I do.” Evan interrupts. The light turns red before them and Dream stops the car accordingly. Evan summons courage from where he can; if there was a God he believed in, he would pray for him. “Dream, George treated me like that because we slept together, and he knows I like you, romantically.”
Dream’s expression turns turbulent, and he looks at Evan with ire in his eyes, an anger he had only met yesterday when he defended himself against George. “If you’re trying to imply George is homophobic—”
Evan screams in frustration and the light turns green. It takes a second for the car to move.
“You’re actually so fucking stupid. He’s jealous, you asshole. He’s so fucking jealous he doesn’t know how to live with himself,” Evan breathes out and it feels great. He couldn’t be friends with the lot of them, to keep this to himself for a night was horrendous.
“What?” Dream scoffs, taking a sharper turn than he needs to. Evan grabs tightly and checks his belt, and to that Dream relaxes. “You’re being stupid. I know George more than you, and that wasn’t jealousy. He just hates you and I don’t get why. He’s probably being an idiot.”
“Dream, I swear to fucking god. He hates me because I spent the night with you and he can’t stand to know I’m getting what he wants; it’s so obvious.” Evan repeats, resisting the urge to commit homicide. He can’t wait to get home and block Dream once and for all. If this conversation doesn’t manage to accomplish anything, at the very least he’ll have an ick for Dream: he’s so stubborn.
“He rejected me, Evan. He’s not fucking jealous.”
Evan stops. The sudden but deep hurt in Dream’s voice takes him aback and he takes a few moments to mull over it.
Now, he isn’t an expert on Dream. Last night showed him how much he didn’t know him, and it opened his eyes and allowed the rose-tinted veil to fall down, but there were things he did pick up, from their talks and texts. So he ventures…
“Did he reject you,” he says softly, “or did you assume something about him?”
Dream’s hands on the wheel tighten so hard that his knuckles go white and he doesn’t speak for the rest of the ride. When they arrive outside of the apartment complex, Evan speaks again.
“Listen—this was fun. You’re a very good guy and I liked hanging out with you. And the other thing was great too. But you’ve clearly have a conversation pending now, and it can make your life better. Don’t miss the chance of something good because you’re afraid.” Evan says, and softly unlocks the belt. As he’s leaving, Dream sighs.
“Thank you for everything, Evan,”
“Any time. Oh, but I’m blocking your number, and if you still receive a text from me later, it’s gonna be me being drunk and I’m begging you to ignore it.” He says with a smile, hoping to transmit some tranquility to the man.
Dream laughs quietly, as if afraid of his own voice. “I’m still sorry.”
The apology gives Evan the strength to pull himself out of the car and close the door. “‘tis fine, go fix it.”
As he walks up to the stairs, he forces himself to look forward until he hears the car take off. He blocks Dream’s number right then and there, and calls María. He thinks this is a great time to break open that good red wine he got from his parents. It’s a long day ahead of him.
It’s a rough two months, that’s all he knows. Between the fast and hard fast of everything that went down with Dream and María having her own set of girl-problems, it’s rough for them. Also, they go back to work in their families business for the rush part of the year, and it sucks, everything sucks, but he has her and their other friends and he forgets about it.
True to his own words, he unblocks Dream’s number and tries to beg him to take him back a few times while drunk, but he had him blocked from day one, and that’s something that sober Evan is always grateful for. He ends up deleting the number, for good measure.
Life goes on.
Life isn’t amazing, but it goes on.
He swears he tries to respect Dream’s requests to not google him, but honestly, he knows he’s never going to see him again, with his aversion to any kind of application that isnt Linkedin or Texts, so one day he begs María to lend him her account and let him look.
Dream appears on the first tweet he sees.
And the next. And the next.
He doesn’t question it, just keeps looking.
Dream is very active in Social Media, it seems. Every tweet or icon had a new, fascinating picture of him, of all kinds. Cringe, wholesome, hot. Some taken by him, some by his friends.
Some with George. Too many with George.
From a distance, he even looks sweet.
He ends his own self-destructing spiral when he stumbles upon a blurry picture of the two of them together. In a very public space, on a Snapchat account he had never heard about. Dream’s hand are holding George’s jaw while he—
Evan turns the phone off and hands it back.