Chapter Text
At first glance, it didn’t seem like there were very many stars in the sky. But if he closed his right eye and squinted with the left, he could see the miniature clusters of light, scattered across the never ending expanse. He could feel every little prod of the shards of green beneath his back, constantly pressing into him, like a reminder of where he was. He slowly caressed the short cut grass beneath his hand, sighing as the movement grounded him on the inside. Recently, George had been doing a lot of thinking, a lot of thinking without processing.
He wasn’t one to deal with his emotions, he’d much rather thrust them to the side and forget that they ever existed. He was, and still is, surprised he has found himself in this position. He was only supposed to step outside for a quick second, only to turn off the garden light. But for some reason, the grass was calling and pulling him in, the sky was pleading his name, the night was wrapping around his very being. He never dwelt on the beauty of nature in life, but somehow was mesmerized by the scenery before him, as if he had never stepped foot outside in his life. He slowly lowered himself down onto the grass, moving with hesitation. He thought, What am I doing? Even with those words echoing in his mind, he leaded back, and shakily exhaled when the back of his head relaxed into the ground.
He didn’t know how long he had been laying here, as time had become something like a distant memory. But he was slowly pulled back into reality, when his phone buzzed in his sweater pocket and fell out with its movements. He grabbed it and brought it up to his face to read, but quickly shoved it away as the light blinded his eyes. Once his eyes adjusted, he was able to read the notification on his phone:
TWITTER
Dream Tweeted:
Tiktok banned George to try and prevent him from releasing the Minecraft Sex Mod...
George chuckled, and quickly opened up his phone to respond to the tweet. Before he could, he read some of the fans' responses to it. A lot of them were meme pictures, others just hellos, and an abundant amount were saying things about dreamnotfound. He didn’t realize he had been scrolling through them for a little bit, so he went back to the original tweet to conjure up something to say in response. After a little bit of thinking, he chose to reply back with, “they cant stop us” with a smirking face next to it. Once the tweet was out, it was flooded with even more fans going wild about the “dnf” content. He just rolled his eyes at that, leaving it as what it is. After sometime of being in the spotlight, George had gotten used to fans taking almost everything he and Dream did as some sort of flirting or couple type thing. Even though sometimes it got a little irritating, he knew that it wasn’t hurting anyone. Though recently it seemed like the fans had reason for thinking such things. Dream and George had been extra flirty on streams and in tweets, surprising fans and friends. The reactions had skyrocketed, as George had never been as forward as he recently was being. It’s not that he didn’t think to say these things, it was that just something in him had surged them forward, and he would say them without even thinking. After he would say such crazy things he would doubt himself exponentially, continuing the cycle of intruding thoughts.
He turned off his phone and pushed himself off of the ground, thinking it was time to go back inside. Before he did, he noticed that his apple headphone cords fell on the ground. Every time he saw them he felt the need to laugh, as Dream had bought George’s mother airpods, and he was still stuck with the ones with cords. He plugged them in, and went onto spotify to see what he was last listening to.
It was America by Imagine Dragons. That song always reminded him of Dream. He pressed play.
Then I feel you close
Feel you close like you want me too
Feel you close like you want me too
Believe in you
George stood on that little patch of grass in his lawn, listening as those words sunk in and latched on to his brain, unwilling to let go.
He thought of those words as he walked back inside. He thought of those words as he sluggishly placed foot by foot up the stairs. He thought of those words as he collapsed onto his bed, tired from the crazy filled day.
His stream was very rewarding, because all in all he had gotten a lot of positive feedback. After quackity’s stream though, he felt exhausted, and Dream had kindly offered to call him separately so they could talk while George layed in bed. They had been doing that recently, calling each other without any other friends. George would even think of stupid reasons on why he needed to talk to Dream and Dream only, just to have him in his presense.
The song ended, and he immediately went to restart it. He listened to it as he slowly drifted into a peaceful sleep, Dream running rampage in his subconsciousness. He didn’t bother taking off his stiff and uncomfortable jeans, as he didn’t want to ruin this sedate and peaceful moment.
~
He could feel the sun that made its way through the crack into the curtain blasting on his right eye, like it was begging to be noticed. George flung his arm to cover his face, not wanting to spend another minute in this uncomfortable abyss. He had regretted his choice of keeping his jeans on in his sleep, as they had suffocated his legs with all their might. He got out of bed as quickly as he could without causing too much discomfort, and strode over to his attached bathroom.
He stripped off his clothes, catching his reflection in his mirror. He wasn’t one to dwell over his imperfections, but in the moment, he couldn’t help but stare at all the marks on his body. He had a scar above his left hip bone from falling off his scooter the first time he tried it.
He still remembers that day: he was out in the freezing snow, with his scooter in front of him and dream on facetime against the box the scooter comes in. Now George still didn’t know what Dream looked like, so his camera was off while he watched George attempt to ride the scooter, and ultimately fall on the sidewalk facefirst and hip jutting into a rock on the side. Now everytime he sees that scar, he is always reminded of Dream. You would think that he would be upset at having a scar on his hip, but in some strange and peculiar way, he liked having a permanent thing on his body that connects to Dream.
He looked away and towards the shower, and went to drag the curtain open. He then turned the nozzle towards the hot, as he liked it when the water was close to steaming. While waiting for the water to heat up, George just stood there in silence, limbs dangling at the side of his body. He couldn’t bring himself to turn around towards the mirror, because he knew that if he looked back, he would see that scar. Upon seeing the scar, George would think of Dream, and he really didn’t want to think of him before he went in the shower. Once he could feel the steam enveloping him in its bubble, he lightly dragged his limbs into the everflowing downpour.
Once under the stream of scalding water, his head went lax and hung low. He was one who hated showers, because he wasn’t able to escape the very thoughts that he wanted to forget. In a state of blurriness, he slid his pale fingers up the side of his body, his fingernails dragging sensually as he went. He imagined how it would feel if Dream's long tan hands replaced where George’s went, and as far as he wanted to go. He would let Dream touch him wherever he wanted to. From the tips of his toes to the top of his head, shame and guilt flooded him, covering every surface of his skin in a deep shade of red. Why would he think about Dream? Dream, his Best Friend?
In a haste, he showered in a state of shame, not wanting to feel like this any longer. He turned off the water, ripped a towel off of the rack, slung it around his bottom half, and trekked back to his room.
When looking through his closet, he flinched when he heard a discord call notification from his computer. He wanted to get dressed before he answered, but what if it was Dream? He didn’t want to miss the call if it was him, so he quickly threw on some boxers and waddled to his setup. It was Dream. He was glad that he hadn’t missed it, as he would have felt poorly for not answering a call from his best friend. He slunk down in his chair, and immediately answered the call.
“George?”
He didn’t expect to feel this way. He didn’t expect the hot, searing shame to find its way back in him when he heard his friend speak, only uttering one singular word. His brain immediately went back to that moment in the shower, the way he touched himself, the way he imagined Dream was the one touching him. But that one word was enough for George to hesitate to respond.
“Um, hello Dream.” George spoke in a soft tone, scared that if he spoke any differently, his emotions would just trickle its way out.
“Hi again. What are you doing? Why isn’t your camera on?” Dream said, and George could hear some shuffling on the other side of the call. George was struck by that question. Dream always asked George to turn on his camera when they were talking, but George definitely couldn’t now, considering he was only wearing boxers.
He bit down on the left side of his lower lip, feeling his teeth sinking in slightly. “Um, uh I can’t right now.” He instantly felt bad, as he was denying Dream of something he asked for.
“Oh, ok. Why is that?” He sounds sort of, disappointed?
“Haha well, I um, just got out of the shower, so I um,” he was stuttering with practically every word. He couldn’t figure out why he had turned so nervous. He was just talking to his best friend, it’s nothing serious. “I am not wearinganyclothesrightnow.” He rushed out with a huff, glad he finally got out the not so consequential words.
He heard a light weeze of a laugh, and the corners of his mouth turned up sheepishly, as he brought up his hand to lightly scratch the back of his neck.
“Hahaha who cares? Wait, did you not get dressed so you could answer my call? Wait, don’t answer that, you totally did! What a simp!” Dream spoke, laughing in between each sentence.
“I’m gonna hang up on you Dream if you keep making fun of me.” George could practically feel the blush covering his face.
“Nooo don’t George. Just go put on some sweatpants or something.”
Listening to Dream’s words, George got up and grabbed sweatpants from the bottom of his closet. He didn’t bother getting a top, because Dream had only said sweatpants, right? He walked back to his computer, and turned on his video camera. He wasn’t expecting to hear a shaky exhale on the other side of the call as he sat down.
“What did you call for Dream?” George tried to say with as much confidence as he could muster, hoping that the blonde wouldn’t hear the tenseness in his voice.
“Um yeah right haha. So uh, I just kinda wanted to talk to you. That’s it.”
“Oh, ok Dream.” George spoke with tenderness.
After that, the two flowed into a casual conversation about future streams and videos they had planned out. George was always envious of the friendships he saw on tv that looked so raw and natural, never thinking that he could ever achieve anything of similarity for himself. But with Dream, god, he couldn’t think of anyone else in the world who understood and got him as much as he did; no one even came close.
“George? Are you still there?”
He hadn’t realized that he had gone silent in his escapade of thoughts.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here.”
“Good. I wouldn’t want little George’s attention to be away from me for too long.” Dream enunciated his words that were dripping with flirtiness. Most of the time when Dream made those types of remarks to George, especially off stream, he didn’t know what to do with himself. When on stream, he could chalk it up to content for the fans, because they both knew the fans clung onto every word that could hint towards a possible romance between them.
But when the words were spoken in private, only for their ears to hear, he became flustered with this tenseness, one that would only go away with time. Those words were his and Dream’s only, the outside world oblivious to them; it was their own little secret in their own little world.
“Shut up.” George quipped back in response. Could Dream hear how flustered I am? Can he feel the warmth from me, thousands of miles away? Does he have any clue of what he can do to me?
“I will never shut up. I will bother you forever. Oh shit, I am sorry, I actually have to go George. Someone is calling me about my next song, I have to take this.” Dream says, with slight sadness and sincerity.
George slumps down in his chair. He hates that the passing and going of one person is able to dictate his emotions so easily.
“Yeah, it’s fine. I have some chores to do anyway.” George stated the excuses like second nature, as he had become accustomed to needing to leave situations when he would get too riled up.
“Thank you for understanding George. I love you. Bye.”
George didn’t even get to say goodbye before the other left the call. He knew he shouldn’t be disappointed, as the other man had important things to get to. But he still couldn’t deny the hollow and emptiness in his chest as the blondes last words lingered in the air.
Dream would often express his love to George, both on and off camera. He knew that George wasn’t intune and open with his emotions, but chose to show his appreciation and care for the smaller man either way. George admired how amazingly beautiful his friend was, how incredible of a person he was. He didn’t know what he would do if he had never met the person who gives him so much undenying happiness.
~
George’s day dragged on and on, as he filled it with miniscule and mundane activities to pass the time before going to bed again. He was now laying ontop of his bed, under the warm comforter. He was on his back with his limbs spread out. He felt overwhelmingly hot, and was doing as much as he could to get rid of this sticky heat. He flung his covers off of himself, and just layed there in the silent aura for a couple of minutes. Before he could realize what he was doing, he was heaving himself up and out of bed, and walking down the stairs towards the backyard.
He carefully opened up the back door, not wanting to disturb or wake any nearby neighbors with any loud noises.
He sat down on the grass once again, and shifted his plaid pajama pants down to find some sort of comfort in his positioning. After a little time had passed of letting the cold night ambience become attune to him, he looked up to the stars.
He let out a long sigh, and placed his hands behind him to leave on. He watched his breath swirl in the air before he spoke, to nothing in particular. Maybe the moon, the stars, the air, the sky, anything that would listen.
“I don’t know why I am thinking these thoughts about him. They are so overwhelming and terrifying; like they are taking over my every being. Everytime he speaks, I feel the natural pull to him, to indulge in his every word, to listen to him with the utmost attention. I don’t know what I am supposed to do about these thoughts and feelings, and I don’t know if I want them to go away.”