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A king can lose his crown, but a knight cannot break his oath.
Sapnap knows this. He knows it’s a sentence that has lingered and ached in his heart ever since he took the oath kneeling at George’s throne all those years ago. He knows it doesn’t mean much, for Dream had taken the same oath, and uttered the same words right next to him. And when it came down to his business, he had snatched the crown from George’s forehead and had ripped apart the feeble thread of friendship that still tied all three of them together.
Sapnap had stepped in that day, defended George from Dream, and had actually disagreed and stood up to Dream seriously. It was frightening, the most frightening thing he had ever done, but he couldn’t bear to see Dream get away with hurting George as well. Everything was a joke to George, a large prank, where everything was laughable and funny, even when it very clearly wasn’t. Seeing the same George with the beginnings of tears in his eyes, because of their so-called best friend, had driven Sapnap to unknown heights of bravery. Foolish, foolish bravery, but bravery nonetheless.
Ever since Dream broke his oath, ever since he hurt George, Sapnap had made it his mission to always follow behind him - to always look out for the displaced king of a land that was only warm in a few hearts. Sapnap had taken George with him everywhere, from El Rapids to Kinoko Kingdom. He had made sure there would always be space for George wherever he was.
He had asked Karl softly, late one night when Kinoko was still under construction, “Can you make George’s house closer to all of ours?” Karl hadn’t questioned it, he rarely did. Merely nodded absentmindedly and made a barely legible note on the plans that Foolish used when building.
And that was how George came to be part of the Kinoko family, not that he cared. George had become more and more apathetic to life ever since his dethronement, though Sapnap bitterly suspected that the aloofness had more to do with who had done the dethroning rather than the dethronement itself. Kinoko had provided him with a space to wander among large mushroom forests with vines and soft fallen leaves to lie down on.
On over one occasion, he had found George fast asleep in the middle of the woods, with not a care in the world. As he used to carry the sleeping boy back to his house, Sapnap couldn’t help but notice that his frame was covered with a soft golden glow that made any approaching mobs turn away from them. He knew he should be grateful, but the thought made him feel sick to the stomach with worry. Sapnap knew what those glows were, and had seen it in softer hues around Philza and the new cat-eared demon in Kinoko- a divine blessing. He doesn’t know what to make of it, still. As the glow grew ever so brighter around George, he found him sleeping more and more. And even when he was awake, George withdrew further away from him and Karl. It stung, but it was okay because he had Karl.
Until he didn’t.
Karl’s memory had deteriorated more and more, and his absences had grown longer and longer, until one day he stopped visiting Kinoko altogether. Sapnap had searched for him for months, yelling until he was hoarse all over the server. He had even gone up to Quackity and begged him to help. The man’s eyes had widened in worry before tightening almost immediately and had shown him to the exit of Las Nevadas with the warning of not coming back there, especially screaming Karl’s name. It had hurt, and it had burned, to see Quackity act that way, when he knew how much he had loved Karl.
But it was okay. Sapnap had started to get used to the stinging of loneliness under his skin. Karl was gone, Quackity did… he did not care, his father had been driven to madness, Dream had escaped from prison and gone to God knows where and George just didn’t want anything to do with the world anymore. Even Tina had stopped staying in Kinoko, except for the occasional visit.
Under the stinging loneliness was a layer of bitterness, the bitterness of being abandoned again and again, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it anymore. He had thought, on many lonely nights, of leaving Kinoko and all its painful memories and just leaving for a different part of the world with new people who didn’t know anyone from this server. But every time he even entertained that thought, he would be reminded of George. George, laying in his dusty bed with the glow of a divine waning and waxing around him as he convulsed in his sleep now and then, who would wake up disoriented every few months only to demand food and then promptly fall asleep again.
Him from a younger time would’ve been mean to George, asking him to find his own steak and soup, but he couldn’t bear it now, the weight of his own loneliness giving way to an ease he didn’t possess naturally. But it was there now, that and his need to protect the last friend of his that lingered, despite the fact that he had no choice in the matter.
So Sapnap had a routine. Waking up, hunting and cleaning the carcasses for meat, cleaning up the vast kingdom, and then securing the perimeter, before going to check up on George, where he would sit the entire afternoon and evening, pretending that he was actually wanted. Some days, he would even converse one-sidedly with the sleeping form of his friend, reminiscing on easier times. He made sure not to bring up Dream, his name never falling easy on Sapnap’s tongue, despite him being the only one who could hear it.
He wishes the nights got simpler but they never did. The feeling of having to leave the tiny room that George occupied and having to leave for his own house across the desolate street, back to his cold bed made him feel like he had just caught a Skeleton’s arrow in his heart but he did it all the same. Just so it would be easier when George inevitably got up and left, even though he knew within his heart of hearts that George wouldn’t be that cruel, not after everything they’d been through. But again, he had been wrong about the people he loved before.
It didn’t matter, anyway. Until George decided to leave him first, Sapnap would stay and protect him and fight for him - for whatever he needed him for.
A king can lose his crown, but a knight cannot break his oath.
Sapnap had meant his oath, fully and truly. Which is why he lingered in the rotting remains of a kingdom that had never gotten to reach its glory. He would stay and follow and give George everything he had, forever. But Sapnap also knew this wasn’t just him sticking to his oath. Sixteen-year-old Sapnap had decided on this long before George was even king, knowing that he would do anything for the boy whom Dream had dragged to meet him one fine summer day. He knew it then, and he knew it now.
It never did get easier, though. Here he was again, sitting in a corner of George’s room with his legs stretched out, his toes lightly tickling the fireplace’s auburn flames that he had created, hoping George wouldn’t freeze over the night. It was an exceptionally cold night on the SMP, colder than he had felt in a long time. He could feel that slight longing in him to go to the Nether whenever the weather turned glacial and today had his insides pining for the lava lakes and the heat of the Nether but something inside him, call it intuition, told him he was needed here today. It could just be him imagining things, but the golden light that hung over George like a shroud had been flickering more and more lately, and George was convulsing even more than he usually did. It worried him. It always did. But this time seemed worse than all the previous ones.
Shaking his head, Sapnap busied himself with the cup of mushroom stew that he had made earlier in the evening, too lazy to go hunting for fresh rabbit meat. It was bland and needed more salt, but it was too late for that now. Random moments like this were where he really felt the loss of his family. His dad, Dream, and later, Quackity, had always been the ones who used to cook for him, making sure that he was full of food that made him the happiest. All that was long gone now. All he had now was his own pathetic cooking and while it had certainly improved from where it had started with him burning all the pork chops, he could still feel the wanting within himself.
It always came back to that with him. Wanting. He always wanted too much. Wanted to be better at fighting than Dream, wanted his dads to be happy again, wanted to be closer to George, wanted not just one but two fiances, wanted everything to go back to the way it used to be, want want want. He felt sick with the amount of wanting within him and yet it did not stop. He turned his head to the sleeping figure on the bed, taking in his lax expression and open mouth and drool-stained cheeks, and felt the force of his wanting drown him again. He wanted George back, he wanted to talk to him and go hunting with him and poke fun at each other and cause havoc across the server while singing together in the most awful voices known to mankind. He wanted his best friend again. He wanted to touch his face and run his fingers through his hair and kiss the corner of his lips but that was wanting too far, even for himself.
He found himself staring at George, longer than he should’ve, reminiscent of his teenage self. Except now there was no fear of being caught by mirth-filled brown eyes that used to be the bane of Sapnap’s existence at one point in his life. It was all so long ago, it made Sapnap feel ancient just thinking of those times, and yet it hadn’t actually been that long.
He was shaken out of his reverie of past lives he had left by George violently coughing. His eyes had scrunched up and his back had hunched, his chest rising and falling rapidly with the force of his coughs. And with each cough, the glow around him trembled, growing fainter and fainter with the vibrations of his chest. Sapnap stared at him with his mouth agape, rooted to the spot. He knew he should run and grab a bottle of water or something for George, but he couldn’t move, his legs practically paralyzed.
As the coughs started tapering off, so did the last remnants of the golden blanket that surrounded George, turning into wisps that surrounded his head like a halo before vanishing. And when the last wisps had vanished, George’s eyes shot open suddenly, brown eyes filled with more panic than Sapnap had ever seen. His lips moved soundlessly, like they were getting used to the feel of the air in his mouth again, before croaking out, “Sapnap,” in a tone that was almost metallic.
The sound of his name leaving George’s lips bolted Sapnap to action as he leapt to his feet and pulled out a bottle of water from the shelves lining the walls behind him. He walked back to the bed and brought the opened bottle to George’s lips, hoping that his hands didn’t burst into flames from the random stress. George, for his part, seemed completely indifferent to Sapanap, focusing on gulping down the water like a man on his deathbed, which seeing how pale he looked at the moment, was more than a likely thing.
When George shifted his face away, Sapnap pulled away his arm and capped the bottle before placing it down on the bed next to George’s blanket clad legs. George still looked shaken up, with his eyes glued to the ceiling and his chest rising and falling rapidly. Sapnap didn’t know what to do, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot as he stared at the little drop of water that had slipped from George’s lips and was now traipsing slowly down his jaw down to his ear. He wasn’t used to this. The few times George had woken up the last few years to eat, he still seemed under a trance of sleepiness, uninterested in anything except finishing his business and getting back to bed. Not like this, where he seemed overly aware of his surroundings and the way his eyes seemed alert and alive.
When George’s breathing quieted down, he sat up on the bed with some difficulty and pushed off the blankets from his lap. As his eyes landed on Sapnap, still standing at the head of the bed, he flashed him a tired grin, the type he used to do all the time where his eyes were almost closed with how wide his smile was, and Sapnap felt his heart skip a beat.
“Hi George,” he said simply. He didn’t know where to begin, what to ask. Why have you been sleeping so long? Why did you have a golden glow around you? Where did it go? Are you fine? Are you back to normal…will you stay with me this time? How does he even start to bring up everything that had happened since the day George’s long slumbers had started, and how Sapnap’s entire life had crumbled till all that he had was this tiny room with George’s sleeping figure and an empty kingdom?
George didn't stop smiling. He seemed like he was experiencing the world for the first time, eyes flitting across the room and staring at every object like he’s experiencing it for the first time. The last time Sapnap saw George this wonderstruck was when Dream had dragged both of them down to the Deep Dark, and even then it hadn’t been tempered with the level of joy that George seemed to be emanating at the moment.
After a long moment of awkwardness, on Sapnap’s side, George declared, “Let’s go on a walk!”
“What?” Sapnap’s voice cracked as he said it, making him cringe. Was George out of his mind?
George got to his feet, wobbling a bit as he did and grabbed Sapnap by the shoulders. “Take a walk with me! I’m too fired up to stay in the room anymore.” The smile hadn’t disappeared from his face.
Sapnap stared at him, exasperation lining his face. “George,” he said, with the tone he would've used for a petulant child, “You do realize it’s the middle of the night?” He wanted to bring up the other reasons George couldn’t possibly leave, like how he had probably just been lifted from a trance of potent sleeping enchantments, but he couldn’t bring himself to broach the topic. Not right now.
George, to his credit, did not slap his arm for his condescension like he had expected but instead turned his head towards the window where the moonlight was streaming in and smiled slightly. “I know and it would be epic to take a walk right now so come with me, idiot.”
Sapnap wished he could say no to George, he really wished. He had always found it difficult to do so but now it felt impossible, his defenses weakened and raw against the surprising tenderness in George’s smile. He stuttered out, “You, you realize how many mobs would be hanging around the forest, right?” He bit back the part of how George didn’t have the protection of his little divine glow to save him anymore.
“You’ll protect me, though, won’t you, Sapnap?” George said, his lips curling into a softer smile, the type where his eyes scrunched and his cheeks dimpled ever so slightly. “Now go put on your armour, I want to leave this room. I’m starting to grow sick of it.”
Sapanp rolled his eyes, walking towards the other side of the room where the chests had some iron armour in them, with a mutter of “Bitch” under his breath. George just giggled in response, and a part of the weight living on Sapnap’s chest lifted. Atleast he was still the same George that both annoyed and endeared him at the same time.
Donning the armour was a funny feeling. He hadn’t put on anything stronger than leather armour in the past few months, and before then, he only ever used his maxed out netherite armour. The feeling of plain iron armour, in contrast, was nostalgic and so simple it made him want to cry. He remembered when this particular piece of armour was made for George, when it was just them and Dream. Thinking of Dream was still hard, and thinking of Sapnap’s own past was even harder, seeing the evidence of Dream’s involvement spread throughout it. He had been trying his best to avoid that, but less than half an hour in George's presence had made him reminisce about the past more than he had done in the past many months.
When he was done putting it on, he turned to face George, who he found staring at him intently which made an angry flush rise to his cheeks that he tried to will away before George caught on. George walked towards him, before placing a cold palm on the sliver of exposed skin between his chestplate and arm braces, causing Sapnap’s skin to erupt in goosebumps, and pulled him towards the door of the house.
When the door opened, Sapnap was hit with the biting cold wind on his face, making him wince. The cold still never felt completely like home to him, no matter how many years it had been since he had last lived in the Nether. George, on the other hand, gave a delighted half yell at the wind hitting his face. As George walked in front of him, his hand forming a burning impression on Sapnap’s arm despite his inability to burn, he couldn’t help but stare at the way George’s ears and cheeks had started turning a pretty scarlet, the same colour as the roses that lined Sapnap’s garden that he was secretly fond of. George had always been pretty but in the moonlight, he was ethereal.
While he followed George, who was taking him through the main path of the Kingdom, he did feel a twinge of guilt within himself, for feeling what he was feeling right now, despite having two fiances. But again, it wasn’t like any of them had made the effort to be there with him in the recent months. He was allowed to be selfish, even though he had always been selfish about the way he felt about George. George was…an exception to everything of Sapnap’s. He regretted it sometimes, but in moments like this, when George held his arm as they walked and he smiled at the random toads in the ponds that filled the Kingdom, he did feel like all that sacrifice and all that pain was worth it.
They walked in relative silence, except for the occasional delighted shout George gave as he saw a small toad or a bird or even a particularly pretty rock which he didn't fail to pocket into his ratty T-shirt. Sometimes, Sapnap silently pointed out something that George would like that he had missed, like the litter of kittens curled asleep at the bottom of a birch tree. Whenever he did it, he was rewarded with a soft smile and Sapnap felt like he could get drunk off them if he just bottled them up for himself forever. He felt crazed. He didn't know what made him feel like a teenage boy pining again, whether it was the moonlight and the wind and the way he hadn’t been with another person for ages or maybe the fact that it’s George, his George, with him after all this time again.
They stayed silent for a long while, which was probably for the best. Sapnap was so confused with everything that was happening that he was sure if he opened his mouth, he would end up blurting something incredibly invasive that would absolutely shatter the delicate glass of the invisible path he and George were walking on at the moment. He didn’t worry about invasive statements when he was younger, nothing too personal for all three of them, the Dream Team, but things weren’t the same they used to be and Sapnap could feel the ache of the ways of their past selves over his shoulders like a bag of rocks he wasn’t accustomed to yet.
Sapnap wondered if George was feeling all of this, the same way he was. Looking at him right now, eyes glimmering with the reflection of the moonlight, his scarlet cape dragging around his feet, he doesn’t think he is. He wondered though, if George thinks about it. How much they’ve lost together and whether he even cares if Sapnap is the only one who stuck around, through the changing tides and sifting sands of time.
“He probably wishes you were Dream,” Sapnap thought bitterly. He shook his head. That train of thought would lead him nowhere. He had spent much of his teenage years being secretly jealous of the easy company that existed between the two of them that he couldn’t seem to replicate no matter how much he tried. It was no use dredging up things he already knew the answer to, no matter how much it made his chest ache to accept it.
No, Sapnap decided, he would focus on now. With the cold air of Kinoko around them and the sound of George’s cape dragging on the ground inches in front of his feet and the smell of earth and roses permeating through the air. He had George back, for better or worse, for however long he wished to stay this time and that was enough. It had to be enough because Sapnap did not need to have more want and greed tearing his heart apart.
The moon had fully risen, with the quiet sounds of even the faraway mobs quieting down to nothing more than a mere whisper, when George finally gave up under a large mushroom tree and proclaimed, his voice cutting through the quiet like glass, “I’m tired, Sapnap. Do something.”
Sapnap spluttered. “What the fuck do you want me to do? You’re the one who wanted to walk instead of just laying in your bed, all cozy.”
“I don’t care, I’m tired,” George responded, his eyes dancing with the all-familiar glint that Sapnap knew meant he was itching for a fight. But Sapnap had felt the weary change in him in the months of loneliness, no longer having the same fire inside him that burnt fiery and hot, to pick fights with George or tussles with…Dream.
“Whatever, let’s just find a place to rest for now,” Sapnap muttered, looking around for one of the many mushroom trees with ladders built into the trunks that Foolish had so generously taken the extra step to do.
Sapnap could feel the way George’s face twisted into a pout and his shoulders fell, and a part of him that very much resembled a teenaged Sapnap who lived and died for George hurt at that, but he pushed that part back in. There was no use trying to re-establish familiar patterns just to get hurt again, in the same achingly familiar ways.
After a few minutes of feeling around the trunks of the mushroom trees, Sapnap came across one with the indents of a ladder. Wordlessly, he gestured at George to follow him and climbed up to the top of the mushroom, hoping that it would be safe enough from the mobs till the morning. George followed him up, with a lot more huffing and grumbling than he had done but he made it to the top, sitting down a few inches away from Sapnap. It wasn’t a lot but the deliberate distance stung.
Sapnap stared at the landscape of the SMP, past the lit lanterns on the borders of Kinoko and he couldn’t help but feel a longing to go back to the mainland. Walk down the Prime Path and into the Community House and maybe go fishing with George once again. Maybe this time around he would deign to hold his hand as they leaned against their fishing poles instead of bickering endlessly like they did back then. It’s a hopeless dream but he wants it so bad, has wanted it for months now, but the ache in the place he’s sure has his heart has worsened with the physical presence of George next to him.
He sneaked a glance at George, just a small glimpse, to see the man shivering and hugging his long cape closer to him. Sapnap frowned, remembering moments exactly like this when he would move closer to George and lean in, offering up his body heat to George, who would begrudgingly agree. It was some of the only times he would ever hope to have that level of closeness with the man and he remembered praying for chilly nights as much as he could, hoping to experience the feeling of burning embers permanently being seared into his heart again and again. He wondered if leaning over and opening his arms would be fine. Would George still allow it with the same begrudging expression that always mildly stung with the pain of last choice or would he accept the fact that Sapnap was in fact, finally, the last and only choice he had left and easily give in? And would Sapnap even feel the same? Would the same burning embers be rekindled again? Did he even want that?
He didn’t know.
But what he did know was George was shivering and biting his lips hard, so hard he could make out the whiteness of the pressured flesh even in the dim light of the moon, the way he did when he was upset. Sapnap didn’t know what had possibly upset George that much that he wouldn’t even complain - his favourite pastime if there ever was one. He didn’t think his refusal to continue the instigation and fights of George would even have that effect on the man. Sapnap had never brought out any particular emotion in George, nothing except anger and a brand of happiness fueled by making Sapnap the butt of the joke. He didn’t think, he doesn’t think he had ever gotten a more complex emotion from him, except maybe on the night that George had broken down in his arms after Sapnap had ushered him away after arguing with Dream on the night of his dethronement. But again, those emotions were not because of Sapnap. He felt his lips curl into a larger frown and he shook his head. All he seemed to do these days was reminisce and get hurt - again and again and again.
Maybe he should actually do something and get hurt, for once. Sapnap turned towards George, who was facing the other direction now, unknowingly or knowingly looking in the direction of the prison and decided to move a little closer to the shivering boy. As he did, he felt George’s breathing stop and his back stiffen against the very edge of his arm.
“What are you doing?” he asked, without turning, his voice surprisingly dull.
“I’m trying to keep you warm, idiot,” George turned at those words, so quick that Sapnap moved his head back ever so slightly, worried about the whiplash. “You’re clearly shivering and I’m a handy lava pool you can take anywhere,”
Sapnap opened his arms, mentally preparing for the all familiar sting of George’s ‘I-don’t-want-to-but-I-have-to’ expression, but it never came. Instead, George stared at him intently for a few moments, his eyes dark despite the moonlight shining right against them. After a few tense seconds of that, he relented with a small smile, moving closer until he was pressed up against Sapnap with his arms around the man.
Oh, he didn’t know those embers in him still had the ability to burn.
But he could feel it, all around him with how close George was. He could feel the way George’s cold hands gripped his shoulders and waist and the way the wet dirt on his pants and cape was rubbing off on his and he couldn’t find it in him to complain, too content in breathing in the smell of mushrooms and dust and George’s skin all together in each intoxicating gulp of air. As the shivers that wracked George’s body quietened, Sapnap couldn’t help but wonder if he would still be allowed to be this close if it wasn’t for his fire-born tendencies.
He really hopes he would.
He hated that the hope felt like a betrayal against the two rings burning a cold mark onto his chest but he pushed it away. He’s allowed to be selfish. For once. And all his selfishness demanded was George, as it always had. Even on days when he knew Dream had looked at George like he had hung the stars and the moon in the sky and on days when George had looked at Dream like he was the embodiment of the sun. He had selfishly wanted. Sapnap supposed he did have George now. He did, atleast physically, at this very moment. And that was enough. It had to be enough. It had to be, or else he knew what would happen like the back of his hand. A heartbreak that would shatter his already thrice broken heart into neat fragments.
As time passed and the moon seemed to shine even brighter, Sapnap could feel his eyes grow heavy and his head grow droopy. Even as he tried his best at digging his nails into the palm of his hands, hoping the pain would help keep him awake and alert, he could feel himself dozing off before jolting awake a few seconds later. The pattern repeated for a couple of minutes before George eventually grabbed Sapnap’s arm and pulled it closer to him, leaving Sapnap stunned.
He rubbed a gentle thumb over the indents on Sapnap’s palm, holding it so close to his chest that Sapnap could almost convince himself he could hear the rhythmic heartbeat of the man next to him. He didn’t want to breathe, in case it came out loud enough to startle George into realizing what he was doing and draw his hand away leaving Sapnap to go back and live in a world where they had to pretend like this never happened. Sapnap couldn’t help but wait, so still and silent for the other shoe to drop, for the cruel joke George always has at the tip of his tongue, for the eventual taunt.
But it never did.
Instead, George said, so soft that his words were almost eaten up by the night wind, “You know you could sleep, right, Sapnap?”
Sapnap managed a weak scoff. “And then who would be there to protect you, Gogy?”
“I can take care of myself, Sappy-Nappy,” Indignation coated George’s voice, the earlier softness replaced. “Either way, you should sleep. You won’t be of much use protecting me if you can’t keep your eyes open.”
Sapnap smiled, ever so slightly. “Oh, the tin man actually has a heart,” referencing an old sentence he would say every time George displayed the slightest bit of care towards him, however rare that was.
George laughed, the loud one that sounded like bells tinkling in the early mornings in the Prime Church that made Sapnap feel like he’d been injected with lava. He thinks being next to George is like a drug. He keeps thinking he’ll be fine, he can be normal about George, his best friend who has proved for years and years that he doesn’t care, but he can’t. He wants to crawl inside George’s chest and scream into the hollow space there until there’s a nook for him to live in permanently.
For now, Sapnap satisfied himself with tentatively resting his face on George’s shoulder. He doesn't know if George would push him off or whether he would just accept it. Prior to this evening, he would’ve said with definitive surety that George would’ve just shoved him off, making some comment about how he smells. But today…something was different about today and the way it had made George soft, soft in a way Sapnap had never experienced him. George was still holding his hand and it made Sapnap want to combust into flames, something his subconscious mind was trying very hard not to do. Maybe that could mean something. Not much, but something.
And it does. George didn’t push him away, or anything like that. His hand was dropped from George’s grasp and something like a whine made its way out of Sapnap’s throat, but he would never acknowledge that. George moved in closer and wrapped his arms tighter around Sapnap’s waist, his breath directly falling on the shorter man’s forehead. One of the hands around Sapnap’s hand was placed in his hair, ever so slightly dragging through the knots he hadn’t had the care to untangle for a while and he felt his eyes flutter shut, pressing his nose further into the cape covered shoulder of George, hoping he could inhale the man whole.
As George’s hands dragged through his locks in a rhythmic motion, Sapnap couldn’t help the contented noise that made its way from the back of his throat. He could feel George’s chest move with a soundless chuckle, and he could feel himself smile in return.
George cooed, just the slightest bit of mocking evident in the soft honey of his voice, “You’d love it if I held you like this forever, wouldn’t you, Sapnap?”
Would he? If George agreed to hold him like this forever, Sapanp could die immediately and he would die as the happiest man in the entire SMP, though that wasn’t a big competition. He wanted to stay here, on this stupid mushroom, far away from the issues of the kingdom below and the problems of their past, in a space where the rings hanging from his throat don’t choke him with broken promises and the empty space on George’s head where a crown used to rest doesn't feel like a stabbing reminder of old friendships and betrayals. If it was just him and George and his arms touching Sapnap, leaving bursts of heat wherever they linger, all alone without every other useless fucking thing from their past weighing them down, he would be ecstatic forever.
But he doesn’t say that to George.
He knows George, knows him like the back of his hand and if there’s one thing he knows about George, it's that sincerity and emotions scare him. He’d seen it again and again in the past. George withdrew into his own inner shell when he or Dream ever got too close to touching the soft interior that existed within. And Sapnap would rather chew off his arms and strangle himself with them than have this moment taken from him. He knew this softness within George wouldn’t last, not forever, it was an ephemeral moment on this lone island, or mushroom. Whatever. It was crystal glass and Bad had taught him since he was young to handle crystal glass with care, and he would do anything to preserve this particular one.
Instead, Sapnap murmured, “Just hold me until the sun rises, Gogy.” As he felt George’s hand squeeze his waist ever so slightly, Sapnap smiled.