Chapter Text
They’d been ignoring each other for more than a month, avoiding any kind of conversation and not staying in the same room for more than five minutes.
It was, unarguably, one of the worst months of George’s life. Not only had he lost his boyfriend (without any warning, mind you), he had lost his best friend and potentially had to start looking for a new flat like Quackity was.
So here he stands in front of Dream’s door, searching for a last ditch effort to get back the guy he loved—as cheesy as that may sound. The loose sleeve of Dream’s hoodie slips down his arm as he raises his hand to knock on the door.
Unsurprisingly, the door opens. The face looking back at him is hollow, clothes the same as earlier that week and hair uncombed and wild.
Well, it is what George had expected, if he's being honest. To be fair, he’s not much better, still wrapped in Dream’s hoodie from a week ago. It hadn’t been washed, and still smelled of the blond’s cologne. If Dream was to ask, he would deny the fact that it was a constant comfort. He would deny that burying his face into the shoulder seemed to ground him.
"We need to talk."
Dream's voice is completely wrecked when he replies. "You haven’t spoken to me in a month."
"I—yeah," George says, heart heavy. "I couldn’t bring myself to, like…" he gestures vaguely between them. "But you didn’t either and it was your fault, so I’m not the only one in the wrong here." He shuffles awkwardly on his feet. "Can I come in?"
Shoulders visibly slumping in relief, Dream steps back to allow George into his room.
There’s a palpable tension between them, both wanting to talk and get it over with, while not wanting to start up something that could damage whatever they had forever.
"I don't want you to apologise a million times, Dream. I will forgive you, with time. I just need an explanation," George explains as he walks over to the bed. He wants to reach for Dream's hand. It doesn't seem like the right thing to do.
"What do you know?"
He gestures next to him and they both take a seat. Dream looks like a stranger in his own room, cautiously sitting against the edge of the bed.
"From what I figured out, Sapnap dared you to date me, probably during or just after that party, but you got a bit carried away and fell in love with me."
There's a static pause as Dream seems to process what George knew.
"That's pretty much it," he responds shamefully. "He dared me at the party to ask you out, didn't matter if you said yes, but—um—there was $50 if I slept with you."
George frowns slightly, but chuckles at the idea of Sapnap actually holding his part of the deal.
"I wasn't planning to take it anywhere though, and definitely not take the money," Dream adds.
"If you weren't taking it anywhere, why'd you say yes?"
"I don't know. I think it was my ego talking," Dream starts, "I saw you kissing Sapnap and wanted to fucking punch him and kiss you myself, but I knew it would never happen. The dare presented an opportunity where only you would judge me, Sap wouldn't get mad at me for asking you out."
Sapnap? Why was he worried about Sapnap? George voices his confusion.
"It's always subconsciously been a competition, I think. It's like telling a twin brother you want to date a mutual best friend. I guess I was just embarrassed about what he would think?"
George pats the mattress beside him, and Dream settles within touching distance. The tense air is beginning to disappear, the room seems to warm up as they talk.
"But you kissing Sap was the moment when I realized I liked you. I think it had been building for a while, but that was like the last straw or something. And then you went of with some chick, and the low I was on from that put me in some stupid headspace where I accepted the dare."
"That was the same for me," George responds in a small voice, "I thought I was straight before I kissed Sapnap, which ironically became the moment I realised I liked you."
A hand is offered as a peace offering, George holds it gently.
He can see Dream visually begin to calm down, shoulders relaxing and brow unforrowing as he continues on with his story. George starts absentmindedly stroking the back of his palm.
"I didn't mean to ask you out when I did, it was going to be a meme or something so you'd have the opportunity to reject me with the excuse of a joke."
"That backfired," George sarcastically points out.
A watery laugh. "It did, didn't it. Turned out ok in the end." Dream squeezes his hand. "But even in the more serious situation, you declined. It hurt, yet I fully understood. I pretended like it didn't happen. So did you, pretty much."
"I didn't. I hardly spoke to you and I couldn't stop staring."
A brief look of confusion flashes across Dream's face. "Are you sure, baby? You always used to stare at me without saying anything. I didn't notice anything different."
A blush spreads across George's face.
"I'm kidding, bub. You did look at me a lot, it was kinda creepy. Not that I can talk though, I stared a lot too. And made flirty jokes to see how you'd respond. You were so cute and awkward," Dream smiles.
He can see Dream's eyes light up as he talks, becoming more animated and less cautious as he lets his tongue loose.
"You practically asked me out with that movie, I was so fucking shocked. Like, we watch movies together all the time, but I still pretended it was a date."
"I wanted it to be. And you did end up confessing undying love and kissing me, so I guess it kind of was."
Dream chuckles, playfully leaning into George's side and elbowing him gently in the stomach.
"Yeah, I never wanted to go upstairs, I loved sleeping with you on that couch, you were so cute," Dream said, "and we went on that actual date and everything was perfect, the beach, getting soaked, running home, it was better than I ever could have imagined it to be."
"You're such a hopeless romantic, I literally found a piss coloured rock then threw you in the ocean."
Dream tauntingly replies, "After saying you loved me and kissing me."
George smiles and relaxes, head falling to lie against Dream's shoulder. He lifts their linked hands to rest in his lap.
"I knew I didn't just want it to be the dare, that was when I realised what the dare would mean. I wanted to be with you, but the moment you found out you'd think everything was fake. So I didn't tell you, I kept up the charade and fell so deep in love it became a problem."
"Then I started asking about why you asked me out and you wouldn't tell me."
It's a dejected voice when Dream finally responds. "Yeah. I guess I never could have kept it up for long."
"It's hard to figure you out, Dream. I know you love me but you lied for months because you didn't trust that I'd continue to love you back."
"I'm sorry. I get it that you probably want to move out and break up or something, I fucked up bad."
What? That is literally the last thing on George's mind. His anger had been and gone, and the idea that Dream thought he was no longer loved had sadness and disgust curling in his gut.
"Don't think for a second that I want to leave you, Dream. I've never loved someone like this, we all make mistakes. Granted, it was a pretty shit move, but I forgive you."
"Oh-"
He interrupts Dream with a chaste kiss to his lips. "You've talked, it's my turn now."
Cheeks flushed, Dream cuddles into George's side. "Go on then, loverboy."
George smiles and begins threading careless fingers through Dream’s hair. "It was the Sapnap kiss for me too. I hid behind my hand because I wanted to make you jealous," George speaks quietly, as though his voice could break the serenity of his boyfriend against his chest. "It didn't help that you were so hot when you were staring at me–"
"I'm always hot."
He flicks Dream’s nose with faked annoyance. "I'm trying to be serious, you asshole, also you fucking growled, you were definitely hotter then—"
Dream interrupts him, growling and poking his stomach.
"Oh fuck off, you a dog or something?"
"Something like that, sure."
"Anyway," George says, rolling his eyes. "I couldn't stop thinking about you, so I distracted myself. When girls didn't work I drank past the point of no return." George chuckles, "would have been a mistake, but you carried me upstairs–"
"In my defense, you probably would have died if you tried to do it yourself."
"Simp."
If one word could describe Dream, it was definitely 'simp'.
"Scuse you–"
"Anyway Sapnap came out, I proceeded to have a panic attack, and once again you went Simp Mode."
"Ok, you are fucking adorable, of course I'm simping," said Dream, booping him gently on the nose.
"Yeah, yeah. You then asked me out—ultimate simp move by the way—and I had a gay panic and rejected you."
"All this talk of simping, Georgie, when you're the one who wanted a movie night with just me then proceeded to fall asleep in my lap."
George can feel his cheeks heat up as he stutters out his answer. "Yeah ok, that day was kinda awkward at first, but it worked out, so stop complaining."
Dream wraps his arms tighter around George's middle, burying his face into George's shirt.
"I was so scared you were joking." It is no more than a whisper, a quiet admission he wasn't quite sure he wanted Dream to know. "But you showed me what I was missing. The moment you said you loved me on that beach, I wanted more than just one date."
A gentle thumb wipes away the tear he hadn't even realised was leaking from his eye. Smiling softly, he looks down at Dream.
"You showed me the fucking world, and I loved every part of it. I love you so much it fucking hurts."
They're both crying now, and George leans down to kiss the tears away from Dream's face, before his lips softly rest on Dream's.
"I love you too, my baby," Dream breathes against his mouth, "You are my world."
Apologies and forgiveness are silently spoken through gentle kisses and cautious tongues, and it's perfect.
Until Patches, who had been hiding under the bed, decides to jump on top of Dream, pushing her head hard into George's chin.
Well, moment over then. George shrugs, watching his boyfriend's mannerisms.
"Oh, hey sweetie," Dream coos, scratching her chin and completely ignoring the brunet who's lap he's practically lying in, "Did you feel left out my baby? I love you, my little kitty, almost as much as I love my Georgie." Dream shoots a cheeky smile at George and drops his voice to a whisper, "Maybe a little bit more, you're less demanding."
George can't help but adore his boyfriend's interactions with his cat. There is just something about 'tough boys' going all soft whenever something small and fluffy demands their attention.
"Y'know, looking back before the party, I think there were a few moments when I subconsciously realised I liked you," George comments, rolling his eyes at Dream's exaggerated kisses on Patches' head. He smiles when Dream freezes and turns to face him, an eyebrow raised.
"Well can't end with that, do you remember any?"
The memory is rather clear, but now that he's brought it up, he doesn't know if he wants to share it.
"There was one when you were holding Patches."
It exposes Dream in an intimate moment, and he almost doesn't want to tell it, even months after it happened.
"Go on."
Dream's hopeful smile is too much to resist.
"You were holding Patches in front of a mirror and pretending she was a guitar player or something," he smiles at the memory, "and singing a duet with your normal voice and your cat-speak voice. It was so fucking cute."
He's never seen Dream stare with such adoration.
"I think it was near then that I started to like the you that you were when no one was looking."
He can't help but blush at the intense gaze Dream is giving him, the blond's eyes fixed onto his.
"I love you more every day, my sweetheart."
And in that moment, George completely forgives him. Maybe it shouldn't have been one sentence and the stirred memory of Dream having a rock concert with his cat that solidified it, but it was. It always is the little things.
"I love you endlessly, idiot."
It's 10:46pm, a month after his heart had been broken, and George finally falls asleep in his lover's arms, dreaming about post it notes and morning pancakes.