Chapter Text
Sapnap misses Dream like hell.
It almost hurts, a fuzzy feeling in his chest that leaves him lightheaded. Sure, they literally just got off the phone after talking for hours, and Sapnap is seeing him in less than twelve hours but that isn’t the point. He hasn’t seen him since Saturday, and today is Tuesday. That’s far too long away from the man he loves more than life itself.
Sapnap buries his face in his pillow and groans. Why can he just get comfortable so he can go to sleep? It’s too hot in his room but opening his window risks bugs, and the overwhelming sounds of the road outside and the drunk students stumbling back to their dorms.
God he hates living in university accommodation.
Sapnap turns over onto his back and huffs. Checking his phone, the time reads 3:57am. He reads the last message from Dream again.
Goodnight, sweetie. Sleep well <3xx
Sapnap smiles, then throws his phone down with a sigh. He needs to sleep or he’ll pass out on Dream’s shoulder again. Dream insists it’s cute, but Sapnap hates it with a passion. Until Dream falls asleep on him. That’s plain adorable.
Sapnap flips onto his side and spots a black mass hanging next to his bed. It’s not a monster like his brain convinces him for a second. It’s a hoodie on a coat hanger. Dream’s hoodie.
Sapnap got it when Dream made a joke about his clothes shrinking in the dryer, and how they’d probably fit Sapnap now. Sapnap insisted he wasn’t even that small, and of course to prove it, Dream gave Sapnap the hoodie he was wearing. Sapnap simply never gave it back, practically living in the soft, baggy fabric.
It’s too hot to wear it, but Sapnap grabs it anyway, settling it next to him on the bed. He buries his face in it, breathing in the scent of coconut and something he can only describe as Dream. He loves it so much. It relaxes him a bit, easing the tension built up in his shoulders after a stressful day of failing to get any work done.
Twelve hours, now closer to eleven, eight of those asleep, and he’ll see Dream again.
He can manage that.
