lo and behold

chapter one: gym class in half an hour

notes from the author: okay, you've caught me. i'm a huge sucker for the pastel x punk cliche, and it hasn't really been introduced to this fandom yet. but i've seen people drawing dark! or alt!dream, and skirt!george, so i thought 'why not?'. for those of you who don't know what pastel x punk is, it's basically the trope of someone who dresses alternatively/in a punk style getting together with someone who dresses in pastel colors/outfits. i combined this cliche with the song 'teenage dirtbag' by wheatus, which is such a good song. they are both 18 in this fic (seniors in high school)! consider this both a songfic and a pastel x punk fic. okay, that's all. enjoy! - mint

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It was so humid outside on the first day of school. Dream, once again, forgot exactly how warm it would be in his all-black attire, but it was worth it. He did, however, feel like his smudged eyeliner was melting off of his eyelids as he walked through the hallways of his high school. First hour had been shit, as it always was; it was way too early in the morning, and History was a drag regardless of who was- "Oof!" he groaned, the wind knocked out of his chest for a quick second.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry," an unfamiliar, accented voice rang through his ears.

Dream looked down at the lump currently squished into his chest.

Tufts of brown hair, chocolate eyes, a light pink long-sleeved shirt, and white jeans glanced back up at him. "S-sorry again," the shorter boy stammered, backing away and gripping his books tighter.

"You're good," Dream raised a pierced eyebrow. "What's, uh, what's up?" he tried, mentally slapping himself as he realized how stupid he sounded.

"Oh, I- um, I'm looking for a class I have to go to," the pastel-clad high schooler responded quietly. "I'm George, I'm new here."

"Cool," Dream said smoothly, chewing at his snakebite piercings. "I'm Clay, but everyone calls me Dream. Which class are you trying to get to?" he asked gently, knowing exactly how it felt to be the new kid as he sidled up next to George and peeked over his shoulder at the wrinkled schedule clutched in the brown-haired student's hands. He noticed the other boy trembling slightly. "Hey, man, it's okay, let me help you," he said softly.

"Sorry, I'm just- I'm a little nervous," George explained quietly. "I'm trying to get to precalculus, though, with Smith."

"Oh, that's easy to get to, don't worry," Dream shrugged. "C'mon, I'll walk you there," he offered, pulling at his worn denim jacket as he began walking down one of the swarmed hallways.

"You don't, um, have to-" George began, but stopped talking as he felt himself get pulled along by the taller boy.

"Nah, it's completely fine. My class isn't even that far from yours," Dream reassured, holding onto one of the light pink sleeves on the shorter boy's shirt.

"Okay," George stuttered, slightly breathless as they walked quickly.

An unfamiliar student, a flame on his t-shirt and white bandana thrown tightly across his forehead, waved at Dream. "Hey, man. New kid?" he smiled slightly at George.

George smiled back and nodded for a split second before the dirty blond next to him let out an exclamation.

"Sapnap!" Dream cried, momentarily letting go of the pink sleeve to hug the other boy. "How was your summer abroad?"

"Oh, you know, here and there. Italy's fucking great, though. It would've been cool if you'd gone with me," the beige-haired high schooler shrugged, a smirk ghosting his features. "How was your summer at home?"

"Dude," Dream laughed. "I missed you so much!"

Suddenly, a bell rang.

"Oh shit," Dream's smile fell off of his face. "I gotta get him to Smith," he pointed a thumb over his shoulder at George.