Chapter Text
“George… I think it’s time you learn the kitchen.”
George felt the colour drain from his face. He stared at Phil with wide eyes, mouth open slightly.
“The kitchen?” he asked, trying to not sound so incredibly intimidated.
Phil chuckled at his obvious distress, twirling in his chair to face the computer screen. George stood awkwardly by the door that lead into the small office in the very back of their McDonald's.
It was an early Sunday morning at the end of April. George had a shift between 8:30 A.M. and 7 P.M.
“The only people who don’t know everything are you, Karl and Niki who only know service and DT. Then Nick, and a couple of the older guys who only know the kitchen. Before summer break, we gotta make sure people can float as much as possible,” Phil explained. He turned back to George again. “The OEPE is at 146 and the R2P is at 160, by the way. Good job so far.”
“T-thanks,” George stuttered.
“Don’t worry about the kitchen, George. When you know everything you’re gonna ask yourself why the heck you were so scared,” Phil smiled. “I called in Clay. He’s coming at 11, so in about 35, to go through some stuff with you.”
“ Clay? ” George’s eyes got impossible wider. “Clay is teaching me the kitchen?”
“He seemed very enthusiastic.”
“Jesus…” George exhaled.
“Alright. Get back out there. Don’t leave Niki alone with both the in-store and DT.”
-
Dream showed up 34 minutes later, smiling widely.
He sauntered in, arms crossed over his black McDonald’s shirt. George couldn’t help but notice how fucking hot he looked, all confident and secure, and almost messed up the drive-through order as a result. Niki had to remind him to hand out the dip sauces.
“Morning George, morning Niki,” Dream said, meeting their eyes - lingering on George - before making his way to the kitchen to greet Phil and Tommy.
“Morning, Clay,” Niki replied, smiling. Once Dream was out of earshot, she turned to George with an arched eyebrow. “Are you going to be able to contain yourself?”
George rolled his eyes, toying absentmindedly with a straw. “He’s teaching me the kitchen today."
“How’s that gonna go?” she laughed.
“Terribly, knowing us,” George sighed. “Have you heard from Karl?”
“Nope. It’s been radio silence since he and Sap started dating.”
“They’re so much worse than me and Dream oh my god,” he laughed.
Just then, Tommy walked up to the front to get something to drink. “Who’s worse than Dream? And how? ”
“Nothing,” Niki said quickly.
Tommy eyed them suspiciously. “You lot are keeping secrets.”
“We’re allowed to keep secrets from children,” George smirked.
“I’m telling Wilbur.”
“You'll say you're a grown man one day and scream for your big brother the next,” George laughed, throwing the now bent straw in the trash.
“George!” came Phil’s voice from the kitchen. “Grab a cap and an apron and get in here! Line two with Clay!”
Niki giggled quietly at George’s petrified expression. “Good luck!”
“Ha-ha,” he deadpanned, making a face at Niki before he went to the back to grab one of the aprons and caps from the wall. He put them both on, adjusting the different straps to make it fit well before he stalked to the kitchen.
Dream eyed him up and down as soon as he was in view. George could see the way the corners of his lips quivered with the desire to smirk.
“I feel so ridiculous in this hat,” George groaned, pressing the black McDonald’s cap further onto his head.
Dream tutted, pushing his hands away. “You’re messing up your hair,” he said quietly.
Phil said nothing about the interaction, too deep in his papers.
“Shut up, Dream,” George muttered and readjusted his hat again.
Then, Phil looked up with a smile. “Alright. If there’s too big of a rush I want you to go back to the front, George. But we have Niki and me there, for now, Wilbur gets on in 15 and then Becca in 40. We should be fine is what I’m trying to say,” he said. He then turned to Dream, pointing a pen at him. “Teach him everything. Nothing is too dumb, okay? If there’s nothing to do, show him around the fridge and freezer.”
“I know the fridge and freezer,” George quipped.
“Yeah, the service parts,” Dream chuckled. “Do you know where the cheddar is?”
George rolled his eyes.
“I’m gonna leave you to it now. Clay, you got Tommy on line one, Nick is joining him in 30 when his shift starts. Okay?” Phil said.
“Yes, boss,” Dream replied with a big smile. Next to him, George just nodded.
With a final pointed look at Dream, Phil returned to the office to do whatever. George wasn’t sure.
“So, Gogy, ” Dream smirked, bumping his hip against George’s. “What do you know already?”
George glared at him, “ George ."
Dream leaned closer, putting his lips right against George’s ear. “What about pup ?”
The brunet shoved him back, a bright red blush building on his cheeks. Dream laughed at the sight.
“I hate you, oh my God,” George hissed, hands pressing onto his warm cheeks. “There are people here!”
“I am fully aware,” Dream said. He turned towards the front, giving Niki a wave. “Hey, Niki! Did you dye your hair again? It looks nice!”
Niki smiled and arched an eyebrow at Dream as she bagged a medium fries. “I did, thank you. How’s teaching going?”
Dream wrapped an arm around George’s shoulder, pulling him into his side. “Going great!”
George groaned loudly.
-
Two hours and a rush that had George frantically running between service and kitchen, Phil told George and Dream to take 45.
“Both of us?” George asked as he happily released his brown hair from underneath the ballcap.
“Clay’s on your schedule. He wasn’t supposed to work today, so we don’t need him when you’re not on the clock,” Phil explained.
“Alright.”
“I’m so hungry. I’m getting food,” Dream sighed, heading off to the front, Phil in tow.
George was hungry as well, but he had a mission of great importance to accomplish...
On the other side of the kitchen, partially hidden by sauces, cheeses and onions, Sapnap was assembling a Big Mac. He had come in right on time, cheeks red and hair messy. Absentmindedly, George had wondered if Karl drove him.
All throughout the rush, George had been itching to ask Sapnap about him and Karl. But the cars rarely stopped coming, and whenever there was a small gap, a minute to breathe, Dream whisked him away to the fridge or to the freezer or to the backroom. Anywhere that Sapnap wasn’t. George didn’t really understand it. Didn’t Dream also want to know?
So now, with Dream out of eyesight, George rounded the stainless steel counters and placed himself right behind Sapnap. Tommy was luckily nowhere to be seen; probably doing dishes.
“Hey, George,” Sapnap said, sliding the now finished Big Mac onto the conveyor belt, sending it to the front.
“Hello,” George grinned widely. “How are you?”
With nothing left to do, Sapnap turned around and leaned against the counter, arms crossed. “I’m good.”
“And how’s Karl?”
“He’s good.”
“Not amazingly happy and incredibly in- ”
“In love?” Sapnap arched an eyebrow. George nodded. “Yeah. We’re amazingly happy and incredibly in love. But so are you and Dream, aren’t you?”
George frowned lightly. In love. Was he in love with Dream? When he thought about it, there was only one answer that came to mind. But voicing it out loud almost made George gag.
He shrugged, twisting a little. “We don’t talk about it.”
“Really?” Sapnap asked. His eyes darted to Dream’s approaching form before returning to George. “Ask him about it.”
“Ask me about what?” Dream said.
George looked at Dream with a small smile. “Nothing.”
“Alright,” the blond replied, returning the smile. “How’s Karl doing, Sap?”
Sapnap rolled his eyes, letting out a mirthful laugh. “He’s good. Are you really more interested in my relationship than me? I’m hurt, Dream!”
Dream just laughed and fell into an easy conversation with his friend.
Meanwhile, George was having a bit of a crisis.
Was Dream in love with George? What if he wasn’t? God, what if he was? What if Dream was just aching to say it, to George and to the whole world, but George wasn’t even ready to admit it to himself? Words, especially words that carry emotion, had never been George’s strong points.
George was well aware that Dream wanted their relationship to be public. Well aware that Dream was ready to be out and proud, holding hands at school, trading kisses in the hallways, parading George around in his letterman like some sort of 21st-century peacocking. But George just wasn't ready - despite how much he wanted the freedom that came with being out. There was nothing George could do but pray that Dream would stick around long enough.
It hadn't been long, but George wasn't sure what he would do if he couldn't wake up next to Dream on weekends. If he couldn't slide his fingers through Dream's hair and kiss him. The very first time Dream had initiated something between them, George had felt the addicting tug of Dream. Now, weeks into it, he was hooked.
"George?"
George blinked frantically, eyes searching for Dream.
"George, are you okay? You're crying."