Archive of Our Own ^beta

It starts, like many tragedies do, with a joke.

It’s not even a real tragedy. Just a misfortune, really. But Karl Jacobs is one for dramatics, so when he collapses face-first onto the couch in the apartment he shares with his best friends, they don’t really pay him any mind.

Except for Quackity, bless him, because Quackity is also one for dramatics and when he senses the opportunity to make a very big deal out of something, he takes it.

“Okay,” Quackity says, plopping down on top of Karl’s feet. “What happened?”

“You’re not going to believe this,” Karl says, his voice completely muffled by the pillow his face is currently pressed into. He shoves his head to the side and takes a deep intake of breath, then tries to curve his body so he can see Quackity’s face. Quackity is looking at him with an expression that clearly says try me. “Guess who’s coming back to town.”

“Who?” Quackity asks.

“Three guesses.” Karl tries to keep his face expressionless, because if he lets his disgust show, Quackity will guess right away.

“Jimmy.”

“Nope. Still in Europe.”

“Chris?”

“He just had a baby, why would he be coming back?”

“I don’t know!” Quackity cries. “Give me a hint.”

“Okay, it’s not someone that’s already graduated.”

“Not someone that’s already graduated… oh God.”

Quackity looks at him with absolute horror. Slowly, Karl nods.

“No,” Quackity says, shaking his head. “No, no, no- guys, we have a situation!”

“What now?” Sapnap calls from the kitchen, sounding incredibly annoyed. George’s bedroom door opens and its tenant emerges, headphones around his neck and looking like he hasn’t slept in days (which, to be fair, he probably hasn’t). He takes one look at Quackity’s face and his eyes widen.

“Sapnap,” he says, and Sapnap scoffs loudly and makes his way in. He leans against the doorway and crosses his arms, and when Karl makes eye contact with him, he freezes.

“What?” Sapnap asks, and Karl can see the way the fight fades from him. “Karl, what happened?”

“I may have accidentally brought our worst enemy back to campus,” Karl says sheepishly. He doesn’t even know why he feels bad- they all agree that he’s the one with the biggest bone to pick.

“You didn’t,” Sapnap says, shaking his head. “Please tell me you didn’t-”

“What did you do, Karl?” George groans. Karl purses his lips, and George and Sapnap both make their way over to sit on top of his legs next to Quackity.

“Hey!” Karl protests, now completely trapped under their weight.

“You deserve this,” Sapnap tells him, patting his head. “Why is Dream coming back?”

“Don’t say his name!” Quackity yells, hitting him with a pillow.

“Dollar in the nightmare jar!” George adds. Sapnap scowls and gets up to slip a dollar bill into a jar on one of the tables next to the couch. Karl laughs, but there’s no humor behind it. The whole situation is fucked, really.

“Okay, Karl, I’ve paid my dues, tell the story,” Sapnap says, sitting back down on Karl’s back. “Why is the nightmare returning?”

“It was a joke,” Karl groans. “It was a stupid joke, I was working on human figures and I joked that mine weren’t up to par, and my professor took that and ran with it.”

“Well, duh,” Quackity snorts. “Only the best for Karl Jacobs, local art prodigy, the university’s pride and joy. You make a joke about wanting a McDonald’s cheeseburger and they’ll fly in Gordon fucking Ramsey to make you a five-course meal.”

“Listen, I didn’t think he’d go so far as to hire a professional model, ” Karl stresses. “And I definitely didn’t think the professional model was going to be fucking Dream. ”

“Dollar in the nightmare jar!” George yells triumphantly.

“Wallet’s in my back pocket, just take a twenty with the rate I’m going to be complaining about him,” Karl says. “This is the worst. This is the worst day ever.”

“When does he get in?” Sapnap asks. “You know, so the rest of us can avoid him at all times?”

Because they all have beef with Dream, professional model and Quackity’s former roommate, Sapnap’s former brother, George’s former lover, and Karl’s former best friend. Then his modeling career took off, and he took off with it, leaving the four of them scrambling. 

He left without paying the year’s worth of lease, and considering they are all poor college students, Karl had to pull a lot of strings with the art department in order to keep their apartment. He left without saying goodbye to any of them, which broke all their hearts. He left without giving them a way to keep in contact, his cell phone on the kitchen counter, and George didn’t get out of bed for a week, and Sapnap punched a hole in the wall that’s now covered by a dartboard with Dream’s face pinned to it. And worst of all, before he left, he and Karl got into a fight about the fact that he planned to leave without saying goodbye, and he completely ruined Karl’s entire portfolio.

Needless to say, none of them are very pleased with him. It was only two years ago, the beginning of their second year of college, and the wounds are still fresh. The four of them are still trying to recover financially- Karl’s art was going to be their main source of income, and Dream messed that up for them. He also messed up a decade and a half of friendship with Sapnap, a two-year relationship with George, and five years’ worth of Karl’s heart and soul. Quackity’s the one who decided to pin a picture of Dream’s face to the dartboard covering the hole in the wall, and the nightmare jar goes to buying Professional Dream Photos for them to rip up, burn, or generally destroy.

“Tomorrow,” Karl says. “He gets here tomorrow, and then he’s here for the foreseeable future.”

“The foreseeable future?” George cries. “Why the hell is he not only here for a week?”

“The photography department wants to use him, the art department wants to use him, everyone wants him now that he’s here,” Karl groans. “And in his free time, I get to spend one-on-one time with him. Painting him naked.”

“I mean, there are worse ways to paint him,” George mutters. Sapnap punches his shoulder.

“You’re over him, remember?” Sapnap says sternly, and George nods.

“I’m over him,” George repeats. Karl exchanges a glance with Quackity; they know George is over Dream, based on the way he drunkenly pines over Sapnap every chance he gets, but that doesn’t mean it’s not going to hurt. It’s going to hurt all of them like hell.

They spend the entirety of the next day locked in the apartment. None of them want to risk running into Dream on campus for various reasons- they’d punch him, they’d cry, they’d cry while punching him. It’s a Saturday, so it’s not like they need to go out and do anything, anyways, until they open the fridge and realize they were supposed to go grocery shopping.

“Okay, okay, hear me out,” Quackity says as the four of them gather around the open fridge door. “We all go out in big hoodies and sunglasses and there’ll be absolutely no problem.”

“We could starve,” George suggests bleakly. His stomach growls as soon as he says it.

“We could call Callahan to bring us food,” Sapnap tries.

“Callahan’s out of town,” George mutters.

“I like Quackity’s idea,” Karl says. “What are the chances we’ll run into him on the walk to Walmart, anyways?”

None of the other three answer.

“Oh, come on, I’m the honking arts major,” Karl snaps. “Quackity’s pre-law, he gets an excuse. Statistics?”

“We’re computer science, not statistics,” George says defensively.

“Slim to none,” Sapnap admits. “We’ll be fine.”

So they each don a hoodie, pull the hood up, slip on sunglasses, and make their way out into the sunny Saturday afternoon.

“This was a terrible idea,” George mutters halfway through the walk to Walmart. “We could’ve done this without the hoodies, I’m sweating like crazy-”

“Ten o’clock!” Quackity yelps, diving behind Sapnap’s back. They all stop moving and turn to the left, and-

There he is. Surrounded by a gaggle of people, because of course he’s built quite the name for himself over the past two years, and he’s hot so naturally people would surround him. Karl feels his heart fall through his feet, and then he’s filled with an unholy amount of rage.

“George, I need you to grab my arm,” he says quietly.

“What?” George asks.

“Grab my freaking arm,” Karl repeats tersely, and then he lunges, like he’s going to run across the street. George yelps and grabs his arm, and Quackity latches onto his shoulder, both of them pulling him back.

“Keep walking,” Sapnap says, because they’re starting to cause a scene and Karl is seeing red and he really, really wants to punch Dream’s smile off his stupid, stupid face- “Keep walking, guys, keep fucking walking.”

Karl really expected Sapnap to be the least rational person in this scenario, but he gets his hands on either side of Karl’s face.

“We’re gonna keep walking,” he says, and Karl stops struggling against George and Quackity’s grips. “We’re gonna keep walking to Walmart, and we’re gonna take the long way home. Okay?”

“Okay,” Karl agrees, half out of breath. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Sapnap says, letting go, and Karl immediately tears himself away from George and Quackity and marches across the street.

“Karl!” George yells, but Karl’s already running. He shoves through the crowd of people surrounding Dream, several of them crying out in complaint, until he’s directly behind Dream. Dream is already turning back at the commotion, and the second he makes eye contact with Karl, Karl punches him hard in the face.

Dream doubles over, and there are gasps from the crowd. Karl’s pulled his fist back and he’s about to hit him again when there are three sets of hands on him pulling him back. He tries to lunge forward, and Dream stands up tall. Blankly, Karl remembers the fact that Dream is fucking massive, but in the moment he really, really doesn’t care. Because Dream broke their hearts, left them scrambling for money, destroyed every single piece in his fucking portfolio -

“Hey, Jacobs,” Dream says cockily, despite the fact that his nose is now bleeding. And Karl rips his right arm out of George’s grip and punches Dream in the face again.

This time Dream hits the ground. Karl’s able to feel a flash of pride before there are arms looping completely around his waist and picking him up off the ground. He flails and he knows it’s Sapnap, even though Sapnap is shorter than him he’s the only one strong enough to be able to pick Karl up. Still, his flailing does nothing as Sapnap marches him across the street, George and Quackity close behind him.

“We are going to Walmart,” Sapnap says tersely. “And you are not going to punch him again. And we are going to talk about this when we get home.”

“Come on, four times, one for each of us,” Karl insists. Sapnap sets him down and he considers bolting across the street again, but his three best friends form a wall blocking him from making his way over.

“Absolutely not,” George says. “Let me see your knuckles.”

Karl shows George his right hand- it’s bright red. George sighs.

“We’ll have to ice it,” he mutters. “Come on. Groceries. I’m fucking hungry.”

Karl manages to glance back once- Dream is standing now, the gaggle of people still surrounding him, and he’s looking after them with a sour expression. Karl smirks, and he knows Dream sees it, and then he turns back and continues on the way to Walmart.

They get their groceries and they take a roundabout way home, thankfully not running into Dream this time. Quackity and Sapnap put the groceries away while George ices Karl’s knuckles, and when they’re done, they sit him down on the couch and stand above him like disapproving parents.

“Violence is wrong, Karl,” Sapnap says sternly.

“You’re the one who put a hole in the wall,” Karl points out. That’s enough to make all three of them break, bursting into laughter. Karl cracks a smile as Quackity drops to the floor, and George collapses onto the couch next to him. He wraps his arms around Karl’s shoulders and buries his head in Karl’s neck, and Sapnap sits down on the coffee table.

“Those were two really good punches,” Sapnap admits. “Like, really good.”

“Thank you,” Karl snickers. “They felt good. I should’ve hit him harder.”

“He fell over, ” Quackity points out. “That’s pretty hard.”

“I should’ve made him fall on the first punch,” Karl says, shaking his head. “I had more power going into the first one, I could’ve broken his nose easily.”

“Isn’t he supposed to be modelling for you?” George says, and there are tears in his eyes. “You’re going to have to paint him with his face all fucked up!”

This sends all four of them into another round of laughter, and the topic is almost completely dropped for the rest of the night. The four of them take their food and hide in their own rooms doing homework for the rest of the night, and by the time they all emerge Sunday afternoon, Karl’s anxiety about having to actually face Dream is building.

“It’ll be fine,” Quackity says as the three of them gather to send him off. “Just don’t punch him again.”

“I can’t punch him when there are cameras around,” Karl mutters. “I might tell him off, though.”

“Valid,” George says, patting his back. “Good luck.”

Sapnap actually salutes him, and Karl laughs as he slings his bag over his shoulder and makes his way to the art building.

Being the university’s beloved prodigy has its perks. He’s been given the opportunity to hold galleries, he has his own studio, his materials are paid for, they bring in some of the top teachers and artists from around the world to guide him. The professors all adore him because he puts on the facade of a perfect student when in reality he has no idea what he’s doing. He’s a mentor to the younger students because he wants to see them flourish like he’s been given the opportunity to.

Not only that, he’s famous - people follow him on Instagram and Twitter and they care about what he has to say, art critics think his work is magnificent, and in reality he’s a stupid college kid that wants to be able to support himself and his friends once they graduate. They’ve already agreed they’re just going to live together, moving somewhere that Quackity can go to law school and Sapnap and George can get good jobs and Karl can hold galleries for large amounts of people. He’s doing good.

Except for the fact that his knuckles are still sore and he’s about to be stuck in his private studio with his worst enemy for at least an hour while they discuss their schedules.

He takes his time making his way into the building, pausing at every poster he sees on the wall. Eventually, it’s five minutes past the meeting time, and he figures he can’t beat around the bush any longer. He makes his way to his studio and finds that the door is already open, and there’s a familiar figure standing just inside. He leans against the doorway and debates how he’s going to start, and then he shakes it off. This is his studio. Dream is on his territory. And he gave Dream the black eye that’s incredibly prominent when Dream turns around.

“Hey,” Dream says, cracking a half-hearted smile.

“I’m not normally an angry person,” Karl says, marching into the room and slamming his bag down on the nearest table. The floors and walls are covered in paint and charcoal stains and this is home, this is where he feels the most like himself, and he’s not going to let Dream ruin that. “But when I see your stupid face, I want to rip it apart with my bare hands. I didn’t ask for you to be here. I made an offhand joke and my professor decided the best thing to do would be to get you here. I don’t want you here. I want you as far away from me, and more importantly as far away from my best friends, as humanly possible.” He takes a deep breath. Dream’s smile has faded.

“Note how I said my best friends and not our best friends,” he continues. “Because you do not have the right to call them your best friends. You do not have the right to call them your friends. You do not have the right to call them your acquaintances. You are a sad, sad little man, and even if you have a fulfilling career doing what you love, you are absolutely nothing to me.”

He takes another deep breath. “And I’m sorry for punching you in the face twice. Like I said, I’m not normally an angry person.”

Dream looks like he’s trying not to laugh. Karl is filled with the urge to punch him again. There’s enough paint over the security camera in the corner of the room.

Karl waits for Dream to talk, and eventually he clears his throat.

“It’s okay,” he says. “That you punched me. I kind of deserved it.”

“You didn’t kind of deserve it, you really deserved it,” Karl corrects him. “Sit down. I don’t care where. Pull up your schedule.”

They come up with a meeting plan- twice a week for the next month- and Karl tells him they’ll go over it again if Dream is still here at the end of those four weeks. Dream nods and looks like he’s about to say something else, but Karl gets up and marches out of the room before he can.

Sapnap, George, and Quackity are all waiting for him when he makes his way inside the apartment. They look at him eagerly, and he bursts into a grin.

“I didn’t punch him!” he cries, and they all cheer. He tells them exactly what happened, and Quackity puts an end to the celebration fairly quickly.

“Wait, so you apologized to him ?” Quackity says. “And he never apologized to you?”

“That asshole !” Sapnap yells.

“Well, I didn’t really give him the chance to,” Karl reiterates. “I ran as soon as we were done so that I didn’t do something else stupid. Like punching him again. Or apologizing for punching him again.”

“Fair enough,” George mutters, and they leave it at that.

Mondays, Karl thinks as he drags himself out of bed the next morning, are the worst. He manages to make it into the kitchen just as Quackity’s door slams open. He’s got his backpack slung over one shoulder and his shirt half-buttoned, tie tight in his grip.

“Presentation,” he huffs out, wrenching the door open and disappearing.

“Good luck,” Karl calls feebly. Sapnap trudges into the kitchen a few moments later, looking like he got absolutely no sleep. Karl doesn’t blame him, just pours him out a bowl of cereal and sits down across from him. George emerges from his room a few minutes later, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled tight over his head.

“You look like shit,” Sapnap comments.

“Thanks,” George grunts. “I’m ten minutes late.”

“Why aren’t you moving faster?” Sapnap asks.

“Because I don’t care,” George yawns, leaving the apartment with that. Sapnap snorts and pulls out his phone to check the time.

“Shit,” he mutters, grabbing his backpack from off the ground and following George.

“Great,” Karl mutters, now left to deal with Sapnap’s dishes. He doesn’t have class for half an hour, so he sticks both bowls in the sink and tries to clean up as much as possible, knowing he’s sure as hell not going to want to do it later. He makes it to class on time, and of course, just his luck, his professor is beaming.

One would think a beaming professor is a good thing. But as Karl sets himself up at his easel for the one class he takes with other people, he recognizes that look on his professor’s face. That’s her I have a surprise face, and Karl has one guess as to what that surprise is.

“Good morning, everyone!” she says loudly, a full minute before class is supposed to start. Karl’s at the back of the room, like usual, but she seems to be staring right at him. Like she knows. “I hope you all had a lovely weekend. I know we were due to work on photorealism for another day or two, but I figured we could switch it up and take advantage of our resources. We’re going to be working with figures today, and we’ve got a professional model on campus to help us do that.”

There’s excited chatter from around the room- somehow, over the weekend, everyone has found out that internationally famous model Dream is on their campus for the time being. And there he is, the asshole himself, strolling into the room like he owns the place.

“Hello,” he says cheerfully, and Karl tries not to smirk at the prominence of his black eye. “I’m Dream, and it’s a pleasure to be working with you.”

Karl can practically feel the people in the room swooning. God, he fucking hates Dream’s stupid face.

“Before we begin, does anyone have any questions for Dream?” the professor asks, and Karl sighs as almost every hand in the room shoots up. “Any questions related to our artwork today?” the professor clarifies, and most of the hands go down. “Sylvia?”

“What happened to your face?” a girl in the front row asks bluntly. Dream chuckles.

“I got into a bit of a scuffle with an old friend,” he says, eyes darting toward Karl in the back of the room. Karl’s speaking before he can stop himself.

“Yeah, well, your old friend told me to let you know he thinks he should have hit you harder,” he drawls. Dream raises his eyebrows in surprise, though his expression softens into a knowing smirk. Karl has half a mind to stroll to the front of the room and hit him again.

“Well, you tell my old friend that I probably deserved it,” Dream says. The eyes of the class dart back to Karl, waiting to see his response. Shit. He’s dug this grave, and now he has to lie in it.

“I’m sure your old friend will appreciate the sentiment, but it doesn’t exactly make things better, does it?” he drawls. The professor clears her throat.

“If no one has any other questions, let’s get started, shall we? Today is just a practicing day- you can draw or paint with whatever style you like, but try and mimic Dream’s pose as best as possible. You’ll have until the end of the week to finish this piece.”

Karl is not apologetic for the piece he sketches. It depicts Dream as something inhuman, otherworldly, and he hates how fucking beautiful it looks when he’s done. He adds horns for good measure and that just makes the damn thing look better. He’s just finished packing up when the professor announces that class is over, and people begin to depart the room. Almost half the class stays behind, attempting to talk to Dream, and Karl has to shove his way through to get out the door.

“Karl!” Dream shouts over the din. Karl keeps walking down the hallway of the arts building- this was his only real class for the day, and he’s intent on finishing the still life piece he had been working on the previous week for his independent study. “Karl, wait up!”

He hears rapid footsteps following him and another, “Karl, hold on!” He finally stops and whirls around, and he’s sure there’s fury painted on his face.

“What?” he demands. “What could you possibly want from me right now?”

“Are you going to act like this forever?” Dream asks.

“ Yes ,” Karl emphasizes. “You know, you still haven’t even apologized, and I don’t know how much that says about you. You know, they were pissed when they found out that I apologized to you last night.”

“Who’s ‘they?’” Dream asks stupidly, and Karl laughs harshly.

“Your old friends, ” he says. “You know, the ones you abandoned at the drop of a hat. You remember, don’t you?”

“Karl,” Dream says, voice low. There’s a crowd starting to gather around them, and Karl knows this is bad for Dream’s image.

“The ex-boyfriend whose heart you broke? The brother you dropped after a decade of friendship?”

“Karl, not here,” Dream says, voice low.

“Do you know how hard it was for us to find a way to pay the damn rent after you signed the lease and dipped?” Karl demands. “Do you know how much we struggled financially considering the fact that you ruined every single piece in my entire portfolio? Not a single one was salvageable, Dream, and I bet you didn’t know that because the second you destroyed it you were gone. No way of contacting you, not a single one.”

He takes a deep breath. The people have mostly cleared off, thankfully being kind enough to recognize that this is a personal matter. There are a few still mingling at the end of the hallway, and Karl turns back.

“Scram!” he yells, and he must look angry enough because they do. He whirls back around to face Dream, who looks shocked.

“You broke all our hearts, Dream,” Karl says finally. “That’s why I punched you twice when I saw you. For Quackity, and George, and Sapnap, and mostly for me. A lot of it for me. Because you ruined five goddamn years of work that was going to pay for my- for our - future. I didn’t even tell the university that it was you that ruined it because I still care about you and I didn’t want you to get in trouble when you were about to have everything you ever wanted.”

“I’m sorry,” Dream says quietly, after a long moment. “I’m sorry that ruined your portfolio. I’m sorry that I left without saying goodbye, and I’m sorry that we fought about it, and I’m sorry I signed the lease and didn’t pay and I’m sorry that I broke all of your hearts and I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry-”

“Stop,” Karl says, shaking his head. “Just- stop.”

“I’m trying to apologize- ”

“And I don’t want to hear it.” Karl takes a deep breath. Dream, thankfully, stops talking. “I’m not ready to forgive you. Not yet. I don’t know if any of us are. You being here- it’s throwing us all right back into the mindset we had at the beginning of sophomore year where we couldn’t even stand to think of you. You know-” and he laughs, here, because it’s funny, isn’t it? 

“You know, Sapnap punched a hole in our wall. Yeah, we still live in the same apartment. Sapnap punched a hole in our wall, and we hung a dartboard over it. And we have a jar that we call the nightmare jar and any time one of us says your name, we have to put a dollar in it, and we use the money to buy high-quality pictures of you to put up on the dartboard or burn or rip up when we’re mad.”

And he’s really laughing now, he’s really laughing. Dream doesn’t look like he has any idea what he’s supposed to be doing.

“So, yeah, we don’t- we don’t really want you here,” Karl says, taking a deep breath. “But you’re here, and there’s nothing we can do about it. So. When I’m ready to forgive you, I’ll let you know. And we still live in the same place, so if you want to stop by some day and see if any of the others are ready to forgive you, you’re welcome to do that, too, but I don’t know how they’d receive you. So. I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

He turns and walks away without another word, leaving Dream standing in the middle of the hallway of the arts building. He doesn’t even go to his studio to work on his damn piece, he just marches back to the apartment, flings his stuff to the side of his bedroom, and lets himself completely break down.

It’s Sapnap that finds him nearly an hour later, still sobbing on his bedroom floor. Sapnap throws his backpack down on the couch and rushes into Karl’s room, not even hesitating before he wraps Karl in his arms, because he knows how Karl is when he’s upset.

“Hey,” he mutters quietly. “Hey, you’re okay. Is it Dream? Did he do something?”

“No,” Karl chokes out. He wipes at his eyes and another sob wracks his body. “I mean, yes, I mean- he tried to apologize and I just told him off again, and I’m- God, Sapnap, this whole situation is so fucked. ”

If Sapnap is startled by Karl swearing, he doesn’t show it.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “It really is. It-”

They’re both startled by a loud banging on their front door, followed by a swift “Shit!” Sapnap mutters for Karl to stay there, which he definitely doesn’t do, and goes to open the door. Karl lingers in the doorway of his bedroom as Sapnap throws the door open, revealing Dream bent over and a six-pack of Monster energy drinks on the ground.

“Uh,” Dream says, going red in the face. Karl hastily wipes at his eyes and approaches behind Sapnap, having no idea what his best friend is going to do. “Hi?”

“What the hell are you doing here,” Sapnap says flatly.

“I- uh- came to drop these off,” Dream says, standing up and gesturing at the drinks. “For being kinda mean to Karl during class. And for. Everything.” He spies Karl lingering behind Sapnap and glances down. “I’m not trying to buy forgiveness, I’m just- I fucked up and I know it.”

“Yeah,” Sapnap snorts. “You did. Bye, Dream.”

He closes the door. Karl gives him a look. He sighs and opens the door again, and Dream is still standing there.

“We’ll take the Monsters,” he says stiffly. “Thank you.”

“Right,” Dream nods. “I’ll just- I’ll go, I’m sorry, you weren’t supposed to see me-”

He turns to walk away, and Sapnap calls his name. He pauses and turns back, and then Sapnap is running out the door and barreling flat into Dream. Karl can’t help but smile as Sapnap hugs him. Dream’s eyes are wide, like this is the last thing he was expecting, and slowly, his arms come down to hug Sapnap back.

“I hate your stupid guts,” Sapnap says, and it sounds like he’s crying a little bit. “Don’t- take this the wrong way, I really, really hate you. But I missed you a lot.”

He pulls back and nods, then scoops up the energy drinks and slams the door closed.

“You’re right,” he declares to Karl. “This situation is fucked.”

The rest of the week passes. Dream and Karl don’t talk on Tuesday and Thursday night when they meet- Karl just practices sketching for an hour both days and then leaves when time is up without saying a word. During class on Wednesday and Friday he just finishes his painting and hands it in to his professor while barely looking at Dream.

“This is gorgeous, Karl,” his professor gushes. “Dream, look at what Karl painted!” She shows off Karl’s painting to the room, which is unfortunately something Karl is used to, before showing it off to Dream.

“Wow,” Dream says breathlessly. “That’s incredible.” They make eye contact and Dream smiles, barely, and there’s a sort of apology behind it that means more than every word he’s spoken.

They don’t talk about Dream at home- Sapnap refused to tell George and Quackity how he reacted to Dream, and George and Quackity don’t really want to talk about him. Karl doesn’t blame them, though he thinks Quackity is silent on the topic mostly for everyone else’s sake.

Sunday comes and Karl heads into the studio, and he tells himself he’s going to attempt to talk to Dream this time. Half an hour passes in silence, and eventually Dream speaks first.

“You really couldn’t save a single piece?” he asks. His portfolio. His damn portfolio that he started his freshman year of high school and that was going to pay for his friends to live through college. He’s got a new one going, now, one that’s even better than the last and twice the size despite the fact he’s been working on it for half the time, one that he’s even more proud of, if that’s possible.

“No,” he says. “I couldn’t save a single piece. I tried, believe me.”

“And you didn’t… you didn’t tell them it was me?”

“Sapnap, George, and Quackity know,” Karl says quietly. “But as far as everyone else is concerned, some jealous student broke in and trashed it. George hacked the security cameras and erased all the footage of us fighting.”

That fight was the worst night of his entire life. Worse than all the days that came immediately after, when George and Sapnap couldn’t get out of bed and Quackity and Karl were attempting to find some sort of way to save them. They were like the five stages of grief, really- Quackity was bargaining, Sapnap was anger, George was depression, and Karl was acceptance. He accepted that Dream had done what he did and moved on. They were all sort of in denial, for a little while, but they got over that quickly.

“Jesus,” Dream mutters. “I’m- I’m sorry. If there’s any way I can make it up to you-”

“Hold still,” Karl says, and he hates how fondly amused he sounds. “Because this is going toward the new portfolio.”

“Right,” Dream nods. “Right.”

And Karl hates himself for it a little bit, but he starts hanging out with Dream outside of their assigned times. Because he’s missed Dream, damnit, and Dream is funny and kind and trying his absolute best to make it up to Karl. He buys the coffee and pastries every time they go out and he avoids talking about their past and instead talks about the past two years, his modelling career, and lets Karl fill him in on the different art opportunities he’s gotten.

The whole time Karl is thinking, was it really worth it? Was giving us up worth it?

He tells his three best friends that he’s been hanging out with Dream. That he’s starting to like Dream again, because Dream is a good person and he’s trying his damn best.

“If you like him, I’ll tolerate him,” George says eventually. Karl notices the way his eyes dart toward Sapnap. “I’ve moved on. I got over him a long time ago.”

Quackity and Karl exchange a look as Sapnap reaches over to take George’s hand and squeeze it.

“If you guys are okay with him, I’ll be okay with him,” Quackity shrugs. They all turn to Sapnap.

“Yeah,” Sapnap says. “Fine. But if he hurts you again- if he hurts any of us again- I’m going to kill him.”

Which Karl considers a win.

“Why didn’t you stay in touch?” Karl finally asks after two more weeks have passed. Dream was in the middle of a story, and he trails off at Karl’s words.

“I was scared,” he admits. “I was- I wasn’t scared, I was fucking terrified. I was leaving you guys, and instead of talking to you about it I made it worse. And then that night happened, and…”

That night. Where Dream and Karl were in his studio, beginning of sophomore year, laughing and talking. And Dream told Karl about the modelling opportunity, that he was leaving in the morning, that he wasn’t even planning on saying anything but he had to tell Karl. And they fought, and Dream ripped up his portfolio in a moment of rage and dropped it to the ground and Karl had screamed at him to get out and he had.

“I’m sorry,” Dream says quietly.

“You should be,” Karl responds just as softly. “But it taught me something.”

“Yeah?” Dream asks, looking doubtful.

“Always make backups of your work,” Karl says coyly, and Dream tries to hold back his laughter. “It’s okay, you can laugh. I forgive you.”

Dream wheezes, and then he stops. “You… forgive me?”

“Well, almost,” Karl says. “I’ll really forgive you when they all forgive you. Come over for dinner tonight, I’m making pasta and since I’m cooking they can’t complain.”

“I don’t know-” Dream starts.

“You don’t have a choice,” Karl says.

Which is how, on a Sunday night at the end of October, Dream ends up sitting at his kitchen table in a chair they borrowed from the upstairs neighbors while Karl cooks pasta. George is in his room and has been since they arrived. Karl texted him that Dream was present, but he doesn’t know if George has seen it. He also texted Sapnap and Quackity, who went out for drinks and should be returning soon. Sapnap had sent a thumbs-up, and Quackity had sent the money emoji. Karl has no idea what either of those mean in this scenario, but he’s just going with it.

George makes his way into the kitchen when Sapnap texts that they’re five minutes out. He stands in the doorway and stares at Dream for a solid minute before he sits down as far away as possible. Dream is staring at the ceiling. Karl pretends he isn’t there, just keeps stirring the pasta sauce on the stove.

“You’re an asshole,” George says after another minute of silence. Karl glances back- they still aren’t looking at each other. “You’re a giant asshole and I hope you rot in Hell.”

Dream just purses his lips and nods.

“You know what?” George says after a moment. Dream finally looks down at him. Karl glances back again, and is utterly shocked to see George grinning. “The only reason I’m not throwing you out is because for some godforsaken reason Karl likes you. And if Karl likes you that means I have to like you. So I guess you can stay.”

“George-” Dream starts. George raises a hand, and he immediately stops.

“I’ve learned to raise my standards,” he says proudly. “So. Take that.”

“I deserved that,” Dream nods, and George laughs and holds out a hand across the table. Dream shakes it warily, like he’s afraid it’ll be a trap. “I’m sorry, George. For everything.”

“I don’t really care,” George says flatly. “I forgave you a long time ago. You did what you had to do.”

Karl lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Once he’s certain George isn’t going to dump his drink on Dream’s head, he turns back to the pasta. George and Dream actually chit chat for the next two minutes before the door is flung open dramatically, announcing the presence of Sapnap and Quackity.

“Good thing we got drunk!” Quackity roars upon seeing Dream. “We’re gonna fucking need it!”

“It’s like, six on a Sunday,” Karl says weakly.

“Hey, man,” Sapnap says, holding out a hand. Dream takes it and shakes it, eyes darting over to Karl. Karl just shrugs as he orders the two that just came in to wash their hands. He’s served up the pasta and is sitting down next to Dream by the time they’re back.

“Just like old times,” Quackity jokes, clearly trying to alleviate some of the tension. It doesn’t exactly work, but then George starts asking Dream questions, and they all begin to relax a little bit. They joke together, they laugh together, and Karl thinks that it is just like old times, as odd as that seems.

The night ends with the five of them smashed together on the couch watching a movie, and gradually, the others make their way off to bed. Dream and Karl linger in the living room for a bit.

“That went well,” Dream says quietly. “I’m surprised.”

“Me, too,” Karl snorts, and Dream wheezes. “Thank you. For coming.”

“Thank you for having me,” he replies. He stands up and stretches, and Karl follows his movements, and- oh, shit, no, this is not happening. No, no, no, absolutely not, absolutely- “I should get going.”

“Yeah,” Karl agrees. “I’ll walk you out.”

He sees Dream again in class the next morning, and they send each other looks the whole time. At the end of class, a few of the girls that sit near the front surround Karl at his easel.

“Hi?” he says questioningly. He doesn’t exactly get along with the other senior art students, mostly because a lot of them are just generally mean to him despite his efforts to be nice. He’s friends with a couple of them, but these four are infamously cruel.

“Are you and Dream dating?” one of them asks bluntly. “Because we saw you at the coffeeshop last week, like, three times, and a bunch the week before that, too.”

“And we know you guys used to be friends,” another one adds. “So. Are you guys dating?”

“Uh-” Karl says, because yeah, he can sort of see how they got that impression, but he doesn’t really think they’re suspicious enough that anyone would accuse him of anything. And he really, really hates confrontation, so he blurts out, “Yes.”

“I knew it!” a third girl cries, and they rush out of the room talking to each other loudly, leaving just Karl and Dream.

“I’m sorry,” Karl says, eyes wide. “I panicked-”

“Did you just tell them that we’re dating?” Dream asks, and Karl nods. Dream wheezes, loud and hard, holding one hand to his chest. “Oh my God, you mad genius.”

“What?” Karl asks.

“No, it’s-” Dream starts, then stops. “It’ll get them off my back, thank you, the four of them have alternated asking me out every day it seems like. And I sort of- well, there’s this big fashion show in New York I’m supposed to go to next month, and I have to bring a plus-one, so this is like-”

“You mean like a date?” Karl squeaks out, then covers his mouth. “No, I’m sorry, I-”

“Like a fake date,” Dream clarifies. “We can. Fake date. Good for my career, good for your career, good so people don’t bother us about dating.”

“Okay,” Karl says after barely a moment of thought. Dream’s right- it’ll boost both of their online presences, which Karl has been struggling to maintain a bit lately. Besides, he’s not going to say not to a free trip to New York. “Okay, yeah, let’s fake date.”

“Let’s fake date,” Dream agrees with a grin, and they leave the arts building that day holding hands.

“You agreed to what? ” Sapnap cries later, and Karl cringes. George and Quackity are both laughing their asses off, both practically rolling on the floor.

“I agreed to pretend to date Dream,” Karl repeats, cringing, which sends George and Quackity into another round of violent laughter.

“Oh my God, Karl,” Sapnap says, burying his face in his hands.

“Sorry?” Karl tries.

“You’re so stupid,” Sapnap says. “So fucking stupid-”

“I panicked, okay?” Karl says, and for some reason George and Quackity laugh even harder. “Why is this so funny?”

“You have dug yourself a hole, Karl,” Quackity says, shaking his head. “You messed up.”

“You’re gonna fall in love with Dream,” George snickers, and he and Quackity both howl with laughter again. Sapnap is now softly hitting his head against the wall. Karl just stands there, utterly confused.

“You know what,” he says eventually. “I don’t have to deal with this. I don’t have to deal with you guys.”

“Oh my God, he’s already in love!” George shouts accusingly, and Quackity rolls flat on his back as his laughs. Sapnap stops what he’s doing to turn on Karl with wide eyes, and the laughter dies down as the room realizes George is serious. “Oh my God,” George says softly. “He’s already in love.”

“I’m not- I’m not in love, ” Karl insists. “I have a little bit of a crush, maybe, but-”

“This is Dream! ” Sapnap says. “Dream who destroyed your portfolio!”

“And Dream who apologized and buys me coffee and is really funny and sweet and caring and pretty and oh my God, I’m already in love,” Karl says, ending completely aghast. “Guys, what do I do, what do I-”

“First rule of dating Dream,” George says loudly, getting up off the floor and putting his hands on Karl’s shoulders. “Don’t let him break your heart. Or rip up your portfolio again.”

“We’ve moved on from that, I’ve forgiven him!” Karl protests. “And he- he-”

Quackity gets up and pats Karl on the shoulder.

“Good luck, soldier,” he says. “You’re gonna need it.”

“I’m not- this is the worst,” Karl pouts. “You guys are the worst, I hate you guys-”

“No, you don’t,” George says with a grin. “Well, if you’re going to date him, we’re going to have to get used to seeing him. Sapnap, take down the dartboard! Sapnap?”

The door is open, and Sapnap is gone. Karl and George exchange a look, then glance back at Quackity, and his nod confirms all they need to know. The three of them take off at a sprint out the door, and Sapnap is nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Dream staying?” Quackity demands.

“A place the university rented for him off campus, he mentioned at dinner, why?” George asks. They turn to Karl.

“Do you remember where?” Quackity asks. Karl nods, and they take off again. They manage to catch Sapnap just before he gets inside the building, all three of them diving on top of him.

“What are you planning on doing!” George demands as Sapnap struggles against them.

“Nothing!” Sapnap cries. “I’m just gonna talk to him-”

“No the hell you’re not!” Karl says. “You’re gonna tell him! That is the last thing you should do!”

“I’m not gonna tell him, I-”

“Uh, guys?”

Dream’s voice cuts through the din, and they all freeze. He’s got a bag of groceries in one arm and one eyebrow raised.

“You okay?” he asks after a moment of staring, and the three of them release Sapnap and take a step back.

“I think they thought I was coming to beat you up, or something,” Sapnap huffs. Instead of punching Dream, he holds out a hand, which Dream takes with his free hand. “But Karl’s forgiven you. So I forgive you. Just don’t make the same mistake twice.”

“I won’t,” Dream promises.

“The past is in the past,” George says with a nod. “We’re not forgetting it happened, we’re just- choosing to move on.”

“Yeah,” Quackity echoes, not wanting to be left out. “You’re all good, Dream. But if something happens again-”

“You’ll kill me,” Dream finishes. “I know.”

He smiles fondly at Karl, who feels his heart melt a little bit. Holy shit, he thinks, he’s in love with Dream.

Somehow, his professors find out about New York at the end of November, and they manage to get Karl a gallery walk set up. He has no idea how they do it, honestly, on this short notice, but they start mailing some of his favorite pieces out to New York to be showcased the weekend after Dream’s fashion show. Meaning they’re going to go to the fashion show, as a couple, then spend a week in New York, as a couple, and the have Karl’s gallery, as a couple. And they need to pretend to be a couple both before and probably after.

Quackity was right. He messed up.

He spends a lot of time in the studio, trying to make pieces that have some sort of theme for a whole gallery in New York fucking City. His friends help him as much as possible, whether it be by bringing him food or supplies or just hanging out with him while he paints. They don’t joke that he’s an art prodigy for no reason- he’s good at what he does, and what he does is paint masterpieces. Every time he finishes one, they send it off to the gallery, and he just keeps going.

Dream forces him to take breaks, occasionally. They go on pretend dates that start to feel a little too real, and the time comes that Sapnap and George drive them to the airport and wish them luck.

“Don’t mess anything up!” George calls as they drive away. Karl glances up at Dream, whose face is steadfast.

“We’ve got this,” he says firmly, and Karl nods.

The plane ride is surprisingly smooth- they both get recognized at least twice in the airport, which Dream seems used to but definitely surprises Karl. Karl’s been to New York once, taken by one of his older friends after he graduated, but the enormity of the city doesn’t fail to take him by shock yet again.

“Here we go,” Dream says with a grin.

They get recognized a lot more often in New York, people stopping them on the streets and asking for autographs. Sometimes Karl forgets the fact that he’s internet famous, but people asking to take pictures with him reminds him of the one and a half million followers he’s accumulated on Instagram.

Karl has no idea what to expect from a fashion show- Dream tries to go over it with him, but Karl’s not sure how much he retains with how nervous he is. They arrive at their hotel room and the first thing that Karl notices is that there’s only one bed.

Shit.

“Oh, yeah,” Dream grimaces. “Told the people booking the rooms we were dating. Sorry about that.”

“No,” Karl says, eyes widening. “No, it’s fine, I don’t mind.”

Which, alright, he doesn’t mind. A week of cuddling with Dream? Why would he mind that?

They go out to dinner that night and get recognized again, though they make it back to their hotel without any trouble. After getting ready to sleep, they each stand on opposite sides of the bed and stare down at it.

“Uh,” Dream says eloquently. “What… side of the bed do you normally sleep on?”

Karl snorts and climbs into the nearest side. Dream grins and slides under the covers next to him, and they both lay flat on their backs, staring at the ceiling.

Eventually, Karl clears his throat.

“This is awkward,” he says. “I can sleep on the floor-”

“No,” Dream says quickly. “If anyone’s sleeping on the floor it’s me-”

“You’re the one with the big day tomorrow-”

“I’m the one that got us into this situation-”

“I’m the one that said we were dating-”

They both fall silent, and Karl shifts a bit. Their hands brush, and before he can pull away, Dream’s fingers latch onto his.

“Okay,” Karl says. “We’ll stay in bed.”

Dream laughs, and they wake up in the morning entangled together. Karl isn’t surprised, though he’s expecting Dream to try and detach as quickly as possible. Instead, when Dream blinks his eyes open, he just hugs Karl tighter.

“Oh,” Karl says. “This is nice.”

“Yeah,” Dream agrees. “Yeah, it is.”

The fashion show is, to say the least, incredible. Karl gets dressed up in a suit that the university had tailored specifically to him, wanting him to look nice since he’s representing them, or whatever. Still, he thinks he looks incredible, and then he sees the suit that Dream is wearing for the red carpet beforehand.

“Holy shit,” Karl says before he can stop himself. He claps his hands over his mouth and Dream laughs.

“Holy shit yourself,” he says. “You clean up nice, Jacobs.”

“Thanks,” Karl says, very clearly going red in the face. “So do you.”

“God, I’d hope so, considering that’s my job,” Dream quips, and Karl laughs. The tension in the room alleviates a bit, and arm-in-arm, they head out into the evening.

Karl is decidedly not used to the flashing cameras of a red carpet, nor is he used to seeing so many pretty people. He feels easily out of place, but Dream never stops touching him, which is grounding. Dream handles the whole thing like a champ, chatting with people he seems to know. His agent is flitting around them the whole time, making business deals and showing off Dream. At one point, the agent actually yanks Karl out of Dream’s grip to pull him aside.

“Be nice to him!” Dream yells, and his agent waves him off.

“You’re doing incredible,” she says to Karl. “You’re pretty even though you’re not a model, and you make it work spectacularly.”

“Thank you?” Karl says. He thinks that’s a compliment, albeit backhanded.

“But as Dream’s boyfriend-” oh, yeah, they didn’t tell Dream’s agent that their relationship is fake- “you need to be more physical. A few lingering touches, maybe a kiss on the cheek, enough to keep the mystique up and leave the people wanting more. You know?”

“I know,” Karl agrees. He’s a physically affectionate person- he can handle that.

“Good,” the agent says, and she leads him back over to Dream. Dream snakes an arm around his waist, and before he can regret it, he reaches up and presses his lips to Dream’s jaw. Then he turns his head toward Dream’s ear.

“Your agent wants me to kiss you,” he whispers, then turns away. Dream’s agent flashes him a thumbs-up. Dream is red in the face.

“I mean, we can arrange that,” he murmurs, and Karl giggles. “Maybe not here, but I’d certainly like to kiss you.”

“Oh,” Karl says, and it’s his turn to go red.

“You know, to keep up the act,” Dream continues hastily, and Karl nods.

“Right,” he says. He turns away from Dream and notices that there are eyes on them, eyes that quickly move when they realize he’s looking around. He grins mischievously up at Dream. “I could probably ruin your whole career right now.”

“What, as some sort of payback?” Dream snorts, and Karl laughs. “You’ve been playing nice but really you’re out for revenge?”

And Karl’s really, really been trying to ignore the voice in the back of his head that’s saying he’s betraying his former portfolio and betraying his anger and betraying his friends and betraying himself by falling in love with Dream, and he really didn’t want to think of it now. But he tries not to let his expression sour and plays along.

“Oh, no,” he says sarcastically. “You’ve figured out my dark secret. I’m out to get you.”

They both laugh, and Karl’s able to push aside the sinking feeling in his gut. He gets to sit next to Dream’s agent in the second row for the duration of the actual show, and God, he thinks he’s going to need to get his hands on some of these pictures. Dream looks hot, so fucking hot, and Karl thinks he’s the luckiest man in the world until he remembers that they’re not actually dating.

Still, he’d consider himself pretty damn lucky.

The show ends late at night, and they go to the afterparty high on adrenaline. Karl keeps a tight grip on Dream’s arm and reaches up to kiss him on the cheek occasionally, even when he knows there aren’t cameras around, just for his own benefit. If Dream notices, he doesn’t say anything.

Karl has, honestly, a lot of fun. He makes some friends with people who run in similar circles as Dream, rich people who tell him they’d love to come to his gallery the next weekend. He gets a fair amount of new contacts in his phone, as well as a few jealous looks that he responds to with a grin. At least for this weekend, he gets to feel like Dream is his.

They spend the rest of the week exploring the city, and it’s some of the most fun Karl has had in a long time. As the gallery gets closer, Karl gets more and more nervous. Dream tries to calm him down with energy drinks (which really shouldn’t work, but somehow does) and calm reassurances.

Saturday arrives, and Karl puts on the same suit he wore the week before and takes a car the university sent for them to the gallery. Some of his professors have flown in, because apparently this is a Very Big Deal, and they arrive around the same time about an hour before the gallery starts.

“Remember,” Dream says. “You’re going to be fine. Everything’s going to be fine.”

It’s just before they walk in that Karl remembers what most of his recent works have been. They all vary in style, size, and theme, but the gist is the same: almost every painting Karl has sent to the gallery is of Dream.

“Dream,” he says quietly, grabbing Dream’s arm just before they walk into the building. “Don’t freak out.”

“What?” Dream laughs. “Why would I freak out?”

And they walk inside, and Dream’s mouth drops.

Karl grins. It looks incredible- the gallery curators have done a spectacular job of setting up his work, and he feels proud. This is his stuff on these walls, these are his works of art. He looks over at Dream, who’s absolutely speechless.

“Oh my God,” Dream says after another few moments of stunned silence. “You…”

“What can I say?” Karl says, smiling slyly. “The university hired you to model for me, and I took advantage of that. You’re my muse.”

Dream laughs and lets go of Karl’s arm to wander around the gallery. Karl stands front and center, talking with some of his professors, and Dream finds him again just before the gallery opens.

He’s utterly shocked to see that there are people lined up outside the doors waiting to get in. He recognizes a few of them from the previous weekend and a few of them from college. The best surprise is Sapnap, George, and Quackity at the very front of the line, waving eagerly. Karl grins at them, and then he turns to the head curator, who gives a speech that Karl wrote hastily a few days before.

“And with that,” the curator announces. “We welcome you to Dreams & Nightmares, a gallery by Karl Jacobs!”

Applause, and people begin moving around the room. Karl clocks at least three separate art critics and he can feel his nerves growing the longer they’re observing his work. After walking through the gallery, it seems like everyone wants to talk to him, some of them about commissions, some of them about prices of hanging works, some of them about Dream (which, alright, Karl doesn’t blame them). For the first two he gives them the business cards he printed before they left, and for the latter he directs them over to his pretend boyfriend.

“God, George,” Sapnap says from behind him, making Karl jump. “This is incredible.” George and Quackity rush to agree.

“Thank you,” Karl says. The praise from his best friends is worth more than any art critic’s opinion. “I worked hard.”

“No shit,” Quackity snorts. “A lot of paintings of Dream.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and George elbows him.

“You did good, Karl,” George says appreciatively. Karl notes that he and Sapnap are holding hands, and he raises an eyebrow. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Karl says defensively. Quackity snickers and wanders off. “How long?”

“Wednesday,” Sapnap says proudly. “Sorry you missed it, Quackity says it was an epic confession.”

“It was over breakfast cereal,” George points out, but he’s looking at Sapnap with such a fond expression that Karl can hardly blame them.

“Well, congratulations,” he says earnestly. “I’m happy for you guys.”

“And how’s your little thing going?” Sapnap asks, grinning mischievously. Karl rolls his eyes.

“Fine,” he says. “Same as when we left.”

Same as when they left in the sense that he still feels like this is a betrayal of the past, that he’s guilting himself over these feelings for Dream, but he isn’t possibly going to say that to anyone else, least of all Dream. God, he’s not going to confess to Dream.

The rest of the day goes by in the blink of an eye, and Sunday goes just as smoothly. Karl gets even more contacts in his phone, and loads of people telling him they want to commission him or buy his art. His professors seem immensely pleased, and the art critics that come back also look impressed.

“God, that was something,” Karl says Sunday night as he collapses into bed next to Dream. Dream laughs, and Karl rolls over so they’re snuggled together.

“I’m proud of you,” Dream says quietly, running one hand through Karl’s hair. “You did incredible.”

“Thank you,” Karl says, leaning into the touch. “I tried my best.”

“I liked how I was the main theme,” Dream says teasingly, and Karl giggles.

“Of course you were,” he says. “What else would it be?”

There’s silence for a moment, and Karl’s worried that he’s said something wrong. Dream’s hand is still in his hair, and Karl looks up at him.

“What?” Karl says with a soft frown on his face. “Are you okay?”

“Are you ?” Dream replies.

“Yeah, I- I’m fine,” Karl says nervously. “What-”

“Because I’m worried,” Dream continues. “That any second you’re going to remember all the shit I did and pull away. And you probably should, because-”

“Hold on, what?” Karl interrupts. He sits up in bed, and Dream sits up, too. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I want to kiss you, Karl,” Dream blurts out. “So much it hurts. And I don’t- we’re doing this whole fake dating thing, and that’s good and fine, but I want to do real dating and you- and I’m no good for you. Is what I’m saying.”

Karl feels a hot flash of anger, one he hasn’t felt since he saw Dream’s face for the first time in two years and subsequently punched it. Twice.

“Hang on,” he says, fighting to keep his voice calm. “You don’t get to decide what’s good for me. What if I want to real date you too, huh?”

“Then I’d discourage you from it,” Dream says. “Because this is nice, it is, but I hurt you and what if I hurt you again? I’m just trying to protect you-”

“I don’t need protecting,” Karl insists. “Don’t you think I know what I’m getting myself into? You don’t get to say anything about hurting me because I’m the one that experienced it, not you. Got that?”

“Yeah,” Dream says, still bristling around the edges. “I got it. I just- I’m scared, Karl, that I’m going to hurt you again.”

“Well, are you planning on leaving without saying goodbye again?”

“No.”

“Destroying my portfolio again?”

“No, of course not, Karl-”

“So what’s the issue?” Karl asks. “You don’t want to hurt me, so if you do, we can talk about it. Like real dating. Like a relationship.”

“Yeah,” Dream says quietly. “I guess we can.”

He lays back down and turns to the side, and Karl feels like something is definitely unresolved. But he knows he’s not going to get anything more out of Dream tonight, so he lays down, too, and faces away from Dream, and he lets every single doubt he’s had race through his mind.

Because what if Dream does hurt him again? What if they get into a fight, and Dream leaves, and it shatters this newfound peace? What if he leaves without saying anything, just like he was going to last time, and breaks Karl’s heart and Karl never sees him again? Or even worse, what if he ends up telling Karl he’s leaving just like he did last time, and they fight, and they just make everything exponentially worse? There are so many what ifs, so many things that could go wrong, and yet-

And yet, Karl wants to make it work. He wants to make it go right. And he still feels guilty, about loving Dream after everything, but that doesn’t change the way he feels. Loving Dream feels like an inevitability, a fact of life at this point, even in the two and a half months that they’ve been known to each other again.

It’s terrifying, Karl thinks. That in a few short months his life has been completely upended, he’s punched someone, he’s hosted a gallery, he’s fallen in love, he’s been in a fake relationship, he’s shared a bed with his former enemy turned muse, he’s-

He’s Karl Jacobs. He’s still the same person he once was. And he is not going to let this story end in a tragedy.

Unfortunately, he has no idea how to prevent a tragedy from happening. He wakes up and the other side of the bed is already cold. He and Dream don’t talk the entire way to the airport or the entire plane ride back to the university, and once they’re on campus, they go their separate ways without a word, as if they don’t even know each other.

“Hey,” Sapnap says brightly when Karl gets back to the apartment. “How was- oh, God, why do you have the sad look on your face?”

“I don’t have the sad look on my face,” Karl says, fighting to keep his expression neutral. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Quackity’s door slams open and he comes sprinting into the kitchen.

“I heard sad look,” he says. “Are we beating Dream up?”

“No!” Karl yelps. “No, we’re not- we’re not beating anyone up because I don’t have the sad look, Sapnap is just being stupid.”

“I’ll be the judge of this!” George proclaims, strolling out of his room. He stares at Karl for a moment and then nods resolutely. “You don’t have the sad look.”

“See!” Karl cries.

“You have the trying to hide the sad look look.”

“Damn it!”

Sapnap and Quackity laugh triumphantly, and Karl lets his face fall. He sits down at the kitchen table, and his friends sit down around them, their laughter fading as they realize something is actually wrong.

“Okay,” George says softly. “What happened?”

“It wasn’t- everything was good,” Karl tells them. “It was good. And then I must’ve said something, I don’t know, and all of a sudden we were arguing and he was saying that he wanted to actually date me, and then he was saying that he couldn’t because he was afraid of hurting me again, and we stopped fighting eventually but then we didn’t talk to each other the entire day today and- I’m confused, and hurt, and I think he is too so it really isn’t his fault-”

“It sounds like kind of his fault,” Sapnap snorts. George sends him a strong look.

“Listen,” George says quietly. “If there’s one thing we all know about Dream, it’s that he’s a self-sacrificing idiot. If he’s worried something is going to hurt you, he’s going to stay away, even if it hurts him too. And he’s worried this is going to hurt you.”

Karl sighs and nods, and then looks up at George. George is staring at the table and looks immensely guilty.

“You know something, don’t you?” he says accusingly. George flushes.

“We talked, at the gallery,” he admits. “About you.”

“About me,” Karl says flatly. He turns and sees that neither Sapnap nor Quackity looks at all surprised by this. “Were you guys in on this, too?”

“George told us after,” Sapnap says apologetically. “We were going to tell you when you got back, but I guess Dream beat us to it.”

“What exactly did he say?” Karl demands, turning to George.

“That he loves you,” George says. “And that he wants to- to be with you, but he’s scared of hurting you. That’s pretty much it. I told him he was being stupid and it was that kind of thinking that led to him leaving sophomore year in the first place. He didn’t want to hurt us, so he didn’t plan on saying goodbye, not realizing that that would hurt us even more.”

“Stupid,” Karl mutters. “He’s so stupid -”

“Yeah,” Sapnap agrees.

“He thinks you’re still angry with him, deep down,” George continues. “And I told him that you might be. That we all are, really. But that doesn’t mean we don’t forgive him, and that doesn’t mean we don’t want to rebuild our relationships with him. Because I do, at least, and I’m pretty sure you guys do, too.”

Sapnap and Quackity nod in agreement, and Karl sighs.

“I’m scared,” he confesses after a moment. “That I’m going to mess this up.”

“So is he,” George says. “So are we all. And- it’s okay if you’re angry with him and you love him at the same time. It’s a normal thing. God knows I’ve been angry with Sapnap and I still love him.” George takes Sapnap’s hand on top of the table, and Karl is struck with a feeling of longing so intense he almost collapses back in his chair.

“I’m not angry with him,” Karl says, shaking his head. “I just- it’s been a day since we’ve talked and I already miss him. He’s more than made up for the things he’s done, at least in my eyes, even if he doesn’t realize it. I’ve gotta- I’ve gotta get him back.”

“Do you- do you want me to call him?” Sapnap asks. “Because I can try and talk some sense into him, or I could get him to come over-”

“No,” Karl says reluctantly. As much as he wants his friends to just take care of this, he knows what he has to do. “No, this is something I have to handle on my own.”

“Whatever you want, man,” Sapnap agrees. “Quackity- where’d he go?”

Karl turns and realizes Quackity is no longer in his chair. Sapnap gets up and searches the apartment, and comes back shaking his head.

“Shit,” Karl mutters. George pulls out his phone and dials Quackity’s number, and he sounds out of breath when he picks up.

“Hey,” he says over speakerphone. “I’m just on my way to kidnap Dream, don’t mind me.”

Jesus Christ, Karl thinks, today is not turning out to be a very good day. This is a disaster, this whole thing is a disaster, why would Quackity-

“Quackity!” Sapnap says harshly. “Get back here!”

“No can do, I’m getting Karl’s boy.”

With that, he hangs up. Sapnap is already dialing Dream’s number.

“I said don’t-” Karl says, and he cuts himself off and buries his head in his hands when Dream picks up. Sapnap puts him on speakerphone.

“Hey, Sapnap,” Dream says. “What’s going on?”

“Quackity’s on his way to kidnap you,” Sapnap says bluntly. “I know you could take him in a fight, but just let it happen, trust me.”

“Okay?” Dream says. “Uh, why-”

“Because you’re a dumbass!” George calls. Karl kicks him under the table.

“You told Karl,” Dream sighs. “Is he listening?”

Karl’s eyes widen and he shakes his head vigorously. Sapnap opens his mouth, probably to say that Karl is, in fact, sitting two feet away from him and listening in, but George claps a hand over his mouth.

“Nope,” George says, in a tone that clearly suggests he’s lying. Dream sighs again.

“I’ll come with Quackity,” he says. “If Karl’s there, tell him I’m sorry and I’ll try and explain.”

“You better,” Sapnap says brightly. “See you soon.”

The next twenty minutes are the most agonizing of Karl’s life. He paces between the kitchen and the living room, trying not to lose his shit. Eventually, the door opens, revealing a smug-looking Quackity with a sheepish-looking Dream right behind him.

“My mission was a success!” Quackity declares proudly. “And now, we vacate!”

He drags Sapnap and George out with him, leaving just Dream and Karl in the apartment. Dream remains standing by the doorway, Karl halfway across the living room.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing Dream says. “For- being dumb.”

“Yeah,” Karl says, and he doesn’t feel angry, not anymore, not about anything. He just feels want, desire deep in his chest. He wants to forge a better relationship, he wants their friend group really reunited, he wants to create a hundred galleries that are all just paintings of Dream. He wants, he wants, he wants. “I’m sorry, too.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Dream stresses. “Not for what you said, not for being mad at me, not for punching me. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I’m- it feels like a betrayal,” he says after a moment, shoulders hunching. He crosses his arms and tries to figure out how to continue. “Because I spent so long being so angry with you, and then you sweep in here and you’re perfect, really. Okay, you’re not perfect, but you’re… you. You’re you. How can I not love you when you’re you? And it feels like something I should apologize for, for creating this whole fake dating situation in the first place, and-”

He takes a deep breath.

“And you’re a really, really good guy. And I don’t want to mess this up because of the past when it’s the future we should be worrying about.”

There’s too much distance between them, Karl thinks, but he doesn’t do anything to close it. He waits for Dream to make a move, because the ball is in his court now-

“I don’t want to mess this up either,” Dream admits. “Which is why I said the things I said last night. I’m so, so sorry for everything I’ve ever done to hurt you, because I don’t want to hurt you, not ever again. I want to- I want to treat you to nice dates and hold you when you’re cold and- and be your muse. God, I want to be your muse, because you’re incredible and your art is incredible and you’re art, you’re a work of art, and- I’m spiraling, sorry.”

They both laugh, and Karl is fighting down the raging blush spreading across his cheeks. He feels warm, like there are butterflies in his stomach, like there’s a weight being lifted off his chest.

“No, keep going,” he jokes. “It’s good for my ego.”

“Yeah,” Dream snorts.

“I want you to be my muse, too,” Karl says. “And I’m- I should have said something about loving you sooner, and I’m sorry that this whole thing happened, and-”

“Karl,” Dream says softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for, and that includes loving me. Because I love you too, and that feels like a betrayal after everything I did.”

“I guess we’re both a little messed up, huh?” Karl laughs, and he’s surprised when it comes out watery. He reaches up and realizes he’s about to start crying, and then Dream lunges forward and wraps his arms around Karl’s back. Karl relaxes into the touch, hands pressed against Dream’s chest, and he lets Dream hold him.

“Yeah,” Dream agrees. “We’re both a little messed up. And that’s alright.”

“I guess it is,” Karl says.

“So,” Dream says after another moment. “Since we both just kind of. Confessed our love for the other.”

Karl laughs, which makes Dream laughs, and they break the hug to stand a bit apart. Karl reaches out and grabs Dream’s hand, intent on beating him to it.

“Be my boyfriend?” he asks, and Dream laughs.

“Yeah,” he says. “Be mine?”

“Yeah,” Karl agrees. “For real this time.”

“For real this time.”

It starts, like many happy endings do, with a joke.

It’s not even a real happy ending. Just another beginning, really. But Karl Jacobs has always been one for dramatics, so when he collapses face-first onto the couch in the apartment he shares with his best friends, they don’t really pay him any mind. They’re used to his antics by now, after living together for three years.

Except for Quackity, bless him, because Quackity is also one for dramatics and when he senses the opportunity to make a very big deal out of something, he takes it. Some things never really change, even as they near the end of their senior year of university. Graduation is just around the corner, and everyone is buzzing with anticipation.

“Okay,” Quackity says, plopping down on top of Karl’s feet. “What happened?”

“You’re not going to believe this,” Karl says, his voice completely muffled by the pillow his face is currently pressed into. He shoves his head to the side and takes a deep intake of breath, then tries to curve his body so he can see Quackity’s face. Quackity is looking at him with an expression that clearly says try me. They’ve been through so much at this point, they can handle anything. “Guess who’s coming back to town.”

“Who?” Quackity asks, already fighting back a smile.

“Three guesses.” Karl tries to keep his face expressionless, because if he lets his excitement show, Quackity will guess right away, even if he can already tell.

“Bad.”

“Nope. Still across the country.”

“Corpse?”

“He just released a song, why would he be coming back?”

“I don’t know!” Quackity cries, practically bouncing where he sits. “Give me a hint.”

“Okay, it’s not someone that’s already graduated.”

“Not someone that’s already graduated…” Quackity says, pretending to think. “I wonder who that could be.”

Quackity looks at him with absolute glee. Slowly, Karl nods.

“Guys!” he calls loudly. “We have a situation!”

“What happened?” Sapnap demands, throwing the door open to his and George’s bedroom. “Who’s not graduating?”

“Not us!” Karl says. “We all made it!”

“Okay, who died?” George tries, emerging from just behind Sapnap. They both evaluate the looks on Karl and Quackity’s faces and break into wide grins.

“Dream’s coming back?” Sapnap asks.

“He’s landing in an hour!” Karl shouts. Quackity gets off his feet and the four of them gather in a circle and jump around. “He’s staying until graduation!”

Dream’s been gone since the beginning of the spring term, after spending winter break with them in the apartment. He’s been travelling around the country- around the world, really- catching up on modelling jobs he missed while he was staying on campus. He FaceTimes them every night, occasionally giving virtual tours of whatever area he’s in on a given night, occasionally giving studio tours, and always staying up late to talk with Karl.

He keeps in touch really well, actually, Karl thinks. Maybe it has something to do with the past, but things are good. Things are perfect, really. They get into little arguments occasionally, but they make it a rule to never go to bed mad at each other, which Quackity says makes them sound like an old married couple.

Everything else is pretty much the same. They still have a jar on the table next to their sofa, only this time it’s full of seashells from a group Christmas trip to the beach. There’s a dartboard hanging over a hole in the wall, though there are no pictures on it anymore.

There’s also the fact that Karl is being commissioned left and right for pieces. It’s new, working for other people, though he’s making enough money to support all of them after graduation, just like they planned. They managed to find a nice apartment with a huge studio for Karl, near a good law school for Quackity, and within driving distance for Sapnap and George, who both have jobs at different companies lined up. It’s got three bedrooms, with Dream also paying rent and promising to stop by and live with them whenever he’s free.

An hour after Karl gives his friends the good news, there’s a knock on the main door. He’s up and running before any of the other three can even move, throwing the door open and staring up at his boyfriend. Dream is holding a bouquet of flowers and grinning.

“Hey,” he says. “Been a while.”

Karl flings his arms around Dream’s neck, crushing the flowers between them and mashing their lips together. Dream laughs into the kiss, and Karl laughs, and he pulls back so Dream can hug their other friends.

Dinner is perfect. They watch movies well into the evening, and Karl tugs Dream into his room when the others excuse themselves.

“Kind of a small bed,” Dream laughs.

“You can sleep on the floor if you want,” Karl offers teasingly.

“Not a chance, Jacobs.”

They’re practically laying on top of each other, but Karl doesn’t mind. Because Dream is warm and solid and real underneath him, hands running up and down Karl’s back, making everything feel like it’s falling into place.

It’s been a long, bumpy road, Karl thinks. But they’ve made it to the point where they’re happy. God, Karl is so fucking happy. Half of his paintings are still of Dream, from memory or from photographs. His best painting yet is hanging on their apartment wall, one of the five of them he created, all with their arms around each other and beaming.

He wants to live in moments like these for the rest of his life- the happy moments, the ones where it seems like everything is going to be okay. Because it’s been a long road, sure, and there’s a long road ahead, but they’re going to make it work. They’re going for a happy ending, not a tragedy, and they’re going to get it.