Chapter Text
“NO!” George screamed at the top of his lungs, bashing his mouse against the desk. “NOOOOO!”
He couldn’t help the wheeze of laughter that erupted from his chest, his finger on the mouse moving it side to side as he grinned from ear to ear, examining the contents of George’s inventory, now scattered on the ground.
“I thought you were popping off, Georgie,” he teased, discarding a few things from his inventory with the ‘q’ button so that he could pick up George’s armour and oooh, ender pearls.
This challenge just got so much easier, he thought with a smirk. Thanks, George.
George’s huff of irritation was his only response, followed by sullen silence, and Dream checked his second screen where George’s stream was playing. His eyes lingered on the thick bottom lip jutting out in a pout as George slumped in his chair, resting his chin on his hand, staring blankly off into the distance.
“George?” he checked.
In the game, he was already sprinting off, taking full advantage of George’s distraction to put some distance between them.
“You’re a jerk,” George muttered.
Unbidden, his chest tightened, and it was his turn to swallow down a sigh. He hated seeing George like this. Ever since their plans to meet up had had to be put on hold because of the virus, George had been much quicker to fall into this melancholy state. It was hard to watch his friend suffer like this, to not pull him into a tight hug and assure him that it would all be fine.
The virus had been hard on all of them. As much as they all joked that for gamers nothing had changed, the forced isolation just hit different. Dream was so sick of his own company. He saw his family on occasion, and now Sapnap was living with him, but he missed just being able to go out without a care whenever he felt like it.
So many people he knew had gotten sick, largely thanks to Trump’s policy of burying his head in the fucking sand and letting the virus spread unchecked. As time wore on, Dream had become even more and more of a recluse; getting groceries delivered, exercising in his home gym and wandering the rooms of his house like a caged tiger. He didn’t want to risk it. Getting sick now, when his channel and merch were finally getting some traction, would be disastrous.
It was a large part of why Sapnap had agreed to move in with him. He’d been even more isolated than Dream had, and they’d both talked about how they’d needed someone in order to not go crazy. And yeah, maybe Dream had hopes that one day he could set up a hype house with some of the other SMP members like so many others on Youtube had done, but for now, having Sapnap with him made it better.
George, on the other hand, had no one. He knew that he and Wilbur had met, of course, but it was a long drive between the two of them. For some reason, Brits viewed even a one hour drive as a massive and insurmountable inconvenience.
Dream, who had once gone on a twenty hour road trip with an ex, could only shake his head at the idea. He regularly drove a few hours at a time on various day trips and overnight trips to visit friends and family, or at least he had done before the virus.
He and Sapnap were worried about George. Earlier that day, Sapnap had lingered at his door, chewing at his lip.
“He said he slept a few hours,” Sapnap told him.
“I saw,” Dream had replied. He’d watched the end of the stream as George and Sapnap played Bedwars with Callahan, contemplating joining in. He’d been busy glaring at the dark circles under George’s eyes, picked up even more clearly by his new HD camera, and just as he’d resolved to jump on, George had finished the stream and Niki’s stream had started up from George’s raid. George's sleep schedule, or lack thereof, was very concerning.
“Is there any way?” Sapnap asked, trailing off, voice tight with worry.
“I don’t know,” he’d told him truthfully. “I can look into it.”
“He joked that there wasn’t going to be room for him here,” was the last thing Sapnap said before leaving again, closing the door quietly behind him.
Yes, Dream had heard that too.
Sapnap had scrambled to reassure him, but Dream had just frowned at the screen, confused. They’d talked about George coming here multiple times. He knew that there was room for him. This ridiculous house had like five bedrooms in it.
A few days later, he hadn’t confronted him about it, not yet. He was busy fighting off the deep-set pang of worry that maybe George didn’t want to come anymore and was trying to find excuses to avoid it.
Dream shook off his thoughts, checking George’s screen again. He was back in the game, but he still wasn’t speaking, just speed-running across a plain, an iron sword already clutched in one hand.
“You coming for me, Georgie?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.
“Oh my god,” George groaned, glancing at his chat. “Stop baiting chat, Dream.” Dream checked, and sure enough, the chat was going crazy, with George’s fans shrieking about ‘dnf’ and how flushed George’s cheeks were.
George always blushed when Dream teased him, and it drove Dream insane. They’d played this cat-and-mouse game for what felt like years now, always flirting around these feelings that they hammed up for the chat. And sure, a lot of it was just banter and joking around, but Dream couldn’t deny the shiver that went down his spine when George blushed so prettily at something he’d said.
And George gave as good as he got. He was still reeling over George saying that he’d sprayed ‘Dream’s hoodie’ with cologne, pulling it up to his nose and sniffing it. His face had gone hot and he’d screenshot it without even thinking about it, saving it in his secret folder of pictures. Unlike snapchat, George couldn’t tell when he took pictures from his stream, and he’d amassed quite a collection of cute and embarrassing pictures over the years.
Blackmail material, he’d thought of it back then. Now, he could admit he’d been in denial. His feelings for George ran deep, basically part of his personality at this point. His family knew George almost as well as he did at this point at the moment with how much he talked about him.
He scoffed, chuckling lowly as he used a water bucket to make obsidian blocks over a pool of lava in the desert. “You love it, George, don’t deny it.”
“You wish,” George joked. But Dream looked at the stream, flushing as George directed a look down the camera, clearly telling Dream to behave.
George was wearing the hoodie again, he noted. He couldn’t help but wonder the reason why he was wearing it so much, and what cologne he was wearing. He was pretty sure he’d mentioned the cologne he wears to George months ago, but he doesn’t know George’s brand.
At this point, he didn’t dare to ask. Not when George had made such a point of the cologne thing on his stream.
He scooped up lava in his bucket. An achievement popped up on the screen.
Dream has made the advancement [Hot Stuff].
“Dream!” George screeched.
He laughed, quickly finishing the portal and lighting it with a flint and steel. He jumped in.
Dream has made the advancement [We Need To Go Deeper].
“Let’s goooo,” he cheered as the nether loaded on his screen.
It was less than a week since the most recent Manhunt had been uploaded onto Youtube, but George had confessed that he’d missed making them with just the two of them, and Dream had been all too happy to comply. It was challenging against four hunters, but playing with George was more fun. His goal was to beat the game within an hour, and so far he looked to be on track. George had killed him in the first few minutes, but they’d restarted, and he was already in the nether.
Of course, he’d paused before restarting, sending George the agreed penalty in the sum of a thousand dollars, ignoring the way George chortled as he checked his bank account on his phone. George had earned it fair and square, and it only made him more determined to get away from him and have a good run this time.
The chat had been curious, of course. They knew from a previous video that he paid out a sum of money when he lost in Manhunt, but they had no idea how much. Or, considering the fact that they pretty much never live streamed these videos, just how often he’d actually paid up.
There was a reason these videos were planned well in advance. They were bad for his bank balance.
But they worked. They were popular with viewers, and they helped Dream to stay sharp and keep honing his skills. It was all part of the master plan.
And George was getting better too. He made less mistakes now, and he knew Dream’s playing style. It’s why even though Dream had killed him less than five minutes ago, he was already hot on his trail in the nether, jeering at him as he leaped after him, the two of them sprinting down the passages of a stronghold.
“Dreeeam,” he sing-songed, getting a hit with his sword and making adrenaline shoot through his body.
“No! George!” he pleaded. “Leave me alone!”
He could barely get the words out, laughing the whole time as he skidded around a corner and threw himself over a ledge, placing blocks just before he could fall and making his way around the tower.
“Come here, Dream,” George sang with a wicked laugh, easily trailing him.
On his way past a group of zombie pigmen, he tagged one with his axe and then immediately started towering up. George cursed as they immediately targeted him, and Dream wheezed with laughter as he towered back up to the fortress, pleased to have a bit of breathing room.
He made his way straight to the blaze spawner, killing and blocking their attacks as he kept half an eye on George’s screen as he fought off the pigmen and began towering up after him. He didn’t have much time, so he dug underneath the spawner and placed bricks over himself, squatting to hide his name from view.
George searched for him, scowling at his screen.
“Oh my god, you’re already out, aren’t you?”
He laughed in response, watching as George started pelting off in the direction of the portal. With just the two of them, they’d opted out of using the compass, so George had no idea where he was.
Dream waited until George was out of sight and climbed back out, killing off the blazes that had spawned and examining his inventory. With the pearls he’d already collected from George’s body and the blaze rods he’d farmed, he already almost had enough.
On his way back out, he exchanged some gold for more pearls from a piglin, watching as George mined a vein of iron ore, a furnace lighting up his screen.
GeorgeNotFound has made the advancement [Suit Up].
Dream was wearing the leather chestplate and gold boots that George had found in a village chest. George in full iron was a threat that he’d need to be wary of.
He paused back in the over world, carefully scanning for George. He was trying not to check his stream too often, knowing that he had an unfair advantage over his friend. But he hadn’t been able to help himself. He loved watching George’s reactions, something that he missed out on during the manhunts with no face cam.
And his face was so expressive. Even when his brow was furrowed in concentration, he was captivating.
Dream checked his own stream, who were screaming at him to run, so he assumed George must be nearby.
“What?” George exclaimed suddenly, drawing his attention unwittingly back to his stream. “Oh my god! You were still in the nether?”
Dream burst out laughing, seeing George’s character bounding towards him from the nearby birch forest.
“Chat,” he scolded through his wheezes. “No dobbing to George.”
“Yes chat,” George encouraged them. “Where is he?”
Of course, he hadn’t stood still. He’d sprinted off towards the desert, tracking the ender eye he’d flung up into the air. He swore as an arrow hit him from behind, weaving side to side as George tried to snipe him from afar.
“Stop!” he laughed, towering across a ravine, jumping across the last few blocks, helped along by the impact of George’s arrow. He was on half health, and paused a second to munch on a steak, using 'F5' to check how close George was.
“Dream, I’m gonna get you,” George yelled, leaping over the ravine using his blocks. Dream laughed and dodged him, making the crouch jump back over to his last block and walking backwards, destroying the dirt he’d placed, leaving George stranded on the other side.
“NO! DREAM!” George screamed, immediately trying to shoot him again, but Dream just dodged side to side, walking backwards the whole time as he taunted George with how close he’d come to killing him, munching on yet another steak.
“Better luck next time,” he cheered, following the ravine to the right and firing off another ender eye.
He found the stronghold without much difficulty, though he was conscious of George hot on his heels. For a moment, he contemplated placing a trap, but there probably wasn’t enough time. George would still be wary though, and his caution should give him at least a minute in the end.
Dream was determined to win. They’d made a bet, an open ended one. Whoever wins can make the other do or say anything they want. The stream didn’t know, of course. If they did, he would have joked about getting George to say he loved him on stream, but he had something else in mind. Something better.
Something real.
“Georgie,” he taunted, filling the portal with his spare ender eyes. “I’m setting a trap for you.”
“You are not,” George scoffed.
“I am,” he assured him, the smile clear in his voice. “Even better than the last one.”
He still grinned every time he remembered the explosive ending of their last Manhunt.
Dream has made the advancement [The End?].
On George’s screen, his eyes were narrowed as he approached the portal room, crouching with his shield in front of him protectively.
“What has he done, chat?” George muttered.
‘Nothing!” they screamed at him, urging him on, but George was far too suspicious. It took him more than thirty seconds of careful searching, as well as setting a spawn point with a bed before he would even consider entering the portal.
GeorgeNotFound has made the advancement [The End?].
By that time, Dream was already most of the way through destroying the crystals, expertly shooting them down with his crossbow and killing endermen as he went. With his stockpile of ender pearls, buckets of water and a crossbow stocked with a decent amount of arrows, George didn’t stand a chance of catching him.
For once, he decided he wasn’t going to target George and kill him. He was just going to draw it out and tease him, eliciting those screams he loved so much as George failed to catch him.
“Come here!” George growled, pearling after him and descending on him from above, sword in hand.
“Nah,” he chuckled, immediately pearling again as the dragon settled down on the pedestal, getting a few hits on him and chipping away a quarter of his health. George hit him once and then he was off again, sprinting around the map and shooting the ender dragon as it spiralled through the air.
It was the most fun he could remember having in ages, his cheeks hurting from laughter and smiling so damn wide. It was lucky that no one could see his face right now. He probably looked deranged.
George came close to killing him a few times, at one point leaving him on half a heart as Dream pearled away, managing to place water down before he landed just in the nick of time. He ate a few steaks quickly, sprint jumping away.
“I was on half a heart, Georgie,” he joked. It was a meme now, and both chats went nuts as George groaned a laugh. He was pretending to be annoyed, but he could tell that George was enjoying himself as well. A grin kept tugging at his lips every time he got close to Dream, and his cheeks were flushed with exertion.
But as much as Dream tried to drag it on as long as possible, the dragon’s death was inevitable. George groaned as Dream cheered.
“YEAHHHHHHHHHH!” he screamed, landing the final blow from afar with his last arrow, the dragon splintering into beams of purple light. “LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Dream has made the advancement [Free the End].
After more laughing and banter, they both ended their streams but stayed on chat.
“Alright,” George said after a few moments, sounding resigned. “What do you want?”
“Aw, don’t be like that George,” he said, unable to hide the fondness in his tone. “I’m not going to make you wear a maid dress or anything.”
George groaned out a laugh, and Dream leaned back in his chair, grinning. Instead of answering, he rubbed at his chin, considering.
“What were you going to ask for?” he asked George, unable to push down his curiousity.
“It hardly matters now,” George muttered. He sounded embarrassed, and Dream leaned closer to his screen, as if he could somehow crawl through it and see George’s face, see into his soul, maybe.
“It does,” he said firmly. “Tell me.”
George sighed again, and he didn’t need to see his face to know that he was sinking back into melancholy again. Dream’s heart sunk.
“It’s been years,” George said instead, “and the most I’ve seen of you is your hands.”
Dream smiled at the thought of how many teasing snapchat’s he’d sent George, the frequency of them only growing as time passed. Of him sticking up his middle finger, or making a heart with both hands, or making an 'ok' sign. He’d teased George about his hand fetish, because the Brit had screenshotted every single one of them, but George just brushed him off each time with a laugh.
He got it though. He was obsessed with George too. And he was lucky that he got to see him any time he wanted.
Many times, he’d thought about just opening up video chat on discord, or facetiming him. It wasn’t a big deal, he’d reasoned with himself, it was just George. But something had stopped him every time. A voice in his head whispering ‘not yet.’
“You’ll see me when you come and visit me,” he pointed out.
George huffed. “Yeah, sure,” he complained. “Like that’s happening anytime soon.”
Dream smiled at that, his heart racing. It was time. “Sooner than you might think,” he said slowly.
There was a long pause.
“What?”
He’d promised Sapnap he’d look into it. He was pretty sure he’d figured it out.
“One of the very few legal reasons to enter the US right now is work,” Dream explained, staring intently at George’s name on discord. “I’m offering you a job.”
“You’re joking.”
“Not about this,” he said gently. “I can draw up all the paperwork, offer you a position as a coder and editor. You can live here, and I earn more than enough from Youtube and Twitch and merch to pay you a decent wage.”
He wished fervently that he could see George’s face.
“Dream,” George said, his voice wavering. “That’s a lot more than just a visit.”
“I know.”
“That’s- that’s long-term.”
“We could start with a six-month contract,” he suggested gently, the hope burning bright in his chest. “I’ll pay for everything. The tickets, the visa application, the covid tests and quarantine, all of it.”
George sniffled, and Dream’s eyes widened. “Hey no,” he said urgently, kicking himself for rushing into this like this and dumping it on. It was too much. “Please don’t cry.”
The sniffles turned into a watery laugh, and Dream strained to hear.
“That’s what you want for your bet?” he asked, spluttering and sounding shocked and amused. “You want to give me a job?”
Dream frowned. “Yes,” he said, the uncertainty bleeding into his tone.
George sighed again, but it sounded fond now. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, the smile clear in his voice. “Alright, a bet’s a bet, I guess. Let’s figure it out.”
“You mean it?” Dream asked, eyes wide.
George laughed at him. “Yes, Dream. I accept.”
“SAPNAP!” Dream screamed.
In the background, he could hear George’s laughter getting louder as Sapnap barrelled into the room.
“What? What is it?” Sapnap demanded, looking panicked.
“GEORGE IS COMING TO AMERICA!”
“LET’S GOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Sapnap screamed, launching himself across the room.
They grinned at each other, jumping around like idiots, yelling at the top of their lungs and completely ignoring the fact that it was some ungodly hour. His neighbours were used to it.
This right here, this made every single moment of hard work worth it. He was going to see him.
He was going to meet George.