Arabesque

Adagio

I'm so sorry I haven't updated recently! However I've written another chapter and have now planned this story out! I hope you enjoy some softness. :>

—

"And that's how Dream broke his arm and leg both at the same time!" Sapnap finished, taking a self-satisfied sip of his coffee when the aforementioned dancer began protesting. The tension had broken slightly after Bad's slip of the tongue, but despite the giggles that from Sapnap's embarrassing stories, George was still yet to trust the Texan.

"So both of you came here? It's weird that '6d and 'geppy haven't seen you yet, seeing as hip hop and breakdancing are in the same dep—"

"They are not the same, Bad!" Skeppy screeched in protest. ".. but it is weird. Since they're in the same department, and all." He conceded.

"Don't fight, boys, you are both, ah, what is it— idots." A6d commented casually, idly reaching over to play with Bad's hair. George watched, more than amused, as the aforementioned swing dancer stammered and ultimately ruined his next statement. Skeppy, who'd been sitting next to Bad, scooted in closer at A6d's movement. Ultimately though, his full attention went to his yellow-clad — at least, he thought it was yellow — dance partner beside him. Something about the way he gestured as he talked, slamming his palms onto his legs whenever particularly heated about something, and waving them in the air in all other situations caught his eyes. He marveled again at how large they were. Unconsciously, George shot out a hand to grab at Dream's wrist. The boy stopped mid-sentence, staring at the other, confused.

George too, was confused, on why he'd lost so much control over his body, and when.

His gaze finally diverted from them to glance at any excuse.

The clock.

"Time to go, Dream, break doesn't mean stop forever." He finally spoke up, voice stilted. He let go of the taller's wrist as if it had burned him. In some way it had, since his internal temperature was rising, and his skin warmed from where he'd gripped the other.

"Oh— alright! Nice to meet you guys. 'Cya, snapmap!"

"You call me that again and we're gonna have issues!" Glaringly yellow eyes tracked to George. He froze like a deer in headlights, meeting the Texan's gaze head on. "I should probably get back to it too. Shoo, nerds." Unconsciously the Brit stiffened as Sapnap rose, the others of the trio sneaking a stray glance to the opposing pair as they left, still grouped together. Dream began to speak, before being shushed by the breakdancer.

"We're all good, yea'?" He asked, quirking a brow that almost disappeared under his white headband.

George swallowed, and gave a cordial nod.

"Yeah. We're good."

"Cool." Sapnap smiled, a wide, contagious grin. "Alright, down low."

Like a fool, George went to accept the low-five, only for it to be yanked back.

"Too slow!" He crowed, throwing his head back in a laugh.

"Dream, we're leaving this Texan idiot to his stupidity."

Speaking of the tallest.

Dream looked thunderstruck, glancing between the two.

"Oh, come on."

Dream let himself be dragged out by the Brit, a wheeze following him out of the door.

-

Sweat dripped down George's temple, leaving a few sticky tracks down his skin. He would have found it embarrassing had his partner not been experiencing the same. As it was, both of them were panting, something he tried not to notice distinctly. George found that they were in similar positions to when they first took a break, though this time Dream hadn't dropped him. They'd tripped over themselves with a sort of gracelessness unbefitting of dancers, but the wheezing laugh and answering giggle they'd traded helped to dampen the pain from bruised elbows that would surely show the next day.