one fleeting first

p1.ch5

January should have been cold, and bitter, with a sharp wind biting at sharper eyes, but Dream had hardly felt warmer.

It was that usual awkward beginning, of course, where George didn't know whether to smile at him or not, whether to sit a bit closer, whether his gaze should really linger that long when Dream spoke, when he leaned in to whisper about something so inconsequential, but George blushed over the proximity anyway.

"Do you know what we're doing?" Dream asked, voice low, "I feel like I missed something?"

"He assigned homework over the weekend, remember?"

Dream just shook his head.

"You didn't do it last night?" George breathed incredulously, a grin tugging at his lips because he knew the cause of the other's only ever-increasing disorganization.

"Yeah, I was busy doing something else," Dream lifted a brow, "Got distracted."

George scoffed, even as his hand came up to rest, and subtly cover, his reddening face, "Don't say it like that. You weren't doing anyone."

"When did I say it was someone?"

He said it like he had caught George in some trap, fallen for his little devious tricks and exposed himself all the while. Aware Dream was just poking fun at him with that ridiculous and infuriating look on his face, George just huffed, "Well, it's not my fault anyway. You're the one that's choking, you better not be going soft on me now."

"Oh," Dream affirmed with glee in his eyes, "I can assure you I'm not. I'm going hard. Real hard."

"Stupid," George muttered, his hands twisting together, his annoyance defied by the softness on his face.

Dream just hummed, resisting the urge to splay George's clasped hands apart, to rest them in his own. He couldn't do such a thing now, the other would pull away, so he would wait until after, when it was them, when he had George all to himself.

They still bickered often. The same nonsense, the same competitiveness.

People still rolled their eyes at them when both of their hands would shoot up at the same time, vying to answer the question first. The teachers still sighed when they both came up to argue over a grade, saying there must be a mistake because clearly, neither of them made one, so why were points taken off, hm?

Dream still grinned when George had no choice but to ask him for help.

"Well, well, well," He teased, too much light in his eyes, too much adoration in his voice, "Here's the self-proclaimed chemistry expert, asking for my help."

"You know you don't have to be annoying, right?"

Dream stuck out his tongue slightly in between his teeth, discouraging the other with, "Oh, I'm annoying, is it?"

"Yes," George let out a long, weary breath, "You are."

"That's not what you were saying last night."

George put a hand over his face, as a sign of distress and also to hide his betraying smile, as he knew that would only encourage Dream more, "You can't just say that every time."

"I can," The other denied, a little smug, "I do."

"You think it just automatically wins you the argument," George said flatly, "It doesn't."

"I dunno, it definitely feels like it's working."

"It isn't."

"Aren't you the one wanting my help?" Dream prodded, "Shouldn't you be dropping to your knees right now to entice me to give up my precious time and knowledge?"