Arabesque

Glisser P1

He took it all back. Dream was in fact, not a Dreamboat. Dream, George quickly found out, was a dick.

The Brit stared up at the ceiling, lying back on the floor he'd been dropped onto. His mind was completely blank, but his muscles were thrumming with barely contained fury, threatening to break out of his lean body and strangle the wheezing boy who'd fallen next to him.

"Oh— oh my god, dude. You basically kicked right out of my arms, I—" Dream was apparently still struggling to catch his breath, pounding the floor with a closed fist.

George forced himself to inhale a big breath, and let it out through gritted teeth. His face flushed red with rage as he rolled to the side opposite of Dream, pushing himself up and glaring at the hardwood.

"You're supposed to hold onto me." The danseur stressed. People tended to underestimate how strong some of the diminutive boy's moves were, but what they didn't understand was that he was coiled muscle. Sure, he was small, but it didn't mean that he couldn't pack a punch with his leaps. His glare finally moved from boring holes into the floor to glaring them into Dream's skull.

"You're slippery!" The taller protested, propping himself up with his hands behind him. George hated how he made the position look so easy and lazy while still accentuating his stupidly defined arms— wrong train of thought. "Like a fish or something!" He sat up fully, waving his arms. Like an idiot.

Push past it, George. You're a professional, George.

"Again." Dream groaned and got up first, offering a hand to the Brit. He simply stared. "Why are your hands so freakishly big." It was a statement more than a question.

"They are not! You just have tiny baby hands!" George stifled a shriek when one of those freakishly big hands grabbed his own and pulled him up, before bringing it closer to his face. For a moment, the shorter thought he was going to kiss it, with how close it was brought to his eyes. His face flushed at the thought. He turned it over gently. "They're so soft," Dream marveled. "How do you not have calluses, you're a ballerina."

"It's danseur, actually." The man clarified, snatching his hand back. "I dunnknow, they're just my hands." George looked away in an attempt to hide the redness he knew was creeping up his ears.

"You started this!"

"Whatever, let's get back to the dance. The thing we've been supposed to be doing. And which we would have been done with, if you would stop dropping me." Back to the seething, now.

"Maybe we should break for a second! We've been going forever!" Dream put his hands up placatingly.

George glanced at the clock, eyes widening when he caught a glimpse of the time. Had it really been hours?

"Fine. Let's break." The Brit grabbed his jacket, pulling it on around his shoulders. Like hell he was going out into the studio hub and freezing with his bare shoulders, no matter if he was hot now or not. He snagged his water bottle on the way out, turning towards the doors.

"Hey, wait!" He spun to the sound of approaching footsteps, just in time for Dream to plant a hand on his shoulder. "This is a new studio for me, the executive guy didn't show me around; want to be my tour guide?"

George —loved— hated the way smiles came so easily to him.

"You came alone to the studio?" He quirked a brow. Most of the dancers came in pairs or groups from other locations.

"Nah, I have a buddy, but he's not ballet. You gotta show me where the cool kids hang out, man!" Another hand on his shoulder, and Dream started guiding him to the door. If he could dance backward, he could walk backward; which is exactly what he did.

George only laughed at that exclamation.

"If you think I hang out with the rest of the ballet dancers, you're wrong. I'm— not like the other dancers." He mocked the meme, fully not expecting the other to get it. Surprisingly, he got a wheeze in return.

"Alright dude, you have to have something!"

"Yeah, sure." George turned, but a hand stayed on his shoulder. He stilled, waiting for Dream to realize. It wasn't acknowledged, even though the presence of his arm around his neck made his skin warm.

"Right then." No use protesting it at the moment. "Let's go."

—

Constructive criticism and comments welcome! ;D <3