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George sobbed. The sun had begun to set, and he carried Dream out of the compound. He’d cried over him for a little while, Dream’s eyes having shut as his hand fell.
George let the sobs pass through his body, wails escaping his mouth as he blamed his hands into Dream’s sweatshirt.
“Ugh… What?” Dream’s groggy voice came through the quiet, and George froze. He turned his head, hoping it wasn’t just a hallucination, and he saw Dream rubbing his eyes.
He threw himself onto the boy, incoherent yells and cries spewing from his mouth as confusion overcame him.
Dream froze for a second, but just rocked him as they held each other under a tree.
“So vampires are real?”
“Yep.” Dream fidgeted with the carabiner he’d found, spinning it around his finger and opening it, only to close it a second after and do the same again.
“And you’re one?” Dream nodded, and George blinked.
“I- Sorry, I’m still trying to wrap my head around this- That’s why Phil let you leave The Compound?”
“Mhm. He saw my different skill aspects, and figured I’d be able to start a panic so they could work behind the scenes. Worked pretty decently.”
George recalled an incident a couple years ago when victims of murder would be found with their blood drained and two piercings in their necks.
“But wait, aren’t vampires, like, really old? Y’know, like Dracula? He’s 900 or something.”
Dream chuckled. “Nah, we live normally, but our lives are twice as long as that of normal humans. I’m able to go out in the sun for a little bit because my dad was a human—at least, I think my mom said that. It’s also why my fangs are smaller.”
Dream showcased the long teeth, which extended about twice as far as the rest of his teeth. He smiled, and George let out a laugh.
“So you used up your time in the sun to go out and meet me at the coffee store?” Dream flushed, but nodded.
“Yeah, it’s why I walked around a lot at night. And if I recall correctly, you were the one getting coffee at, like, 8 in the evening!” George let out a chuckle.
“Whatever. Anyways, you know this doesn’t change how I feel about you, right?” Dream nodded. “No, like, actually. Dream, I love you.”
He hesitated, but nodded again. George sighed as he leaned into his side.
“My lovely, photosensitive boyfriend.”
“George, you're using fancy words, and I love it.”
He let out a laugh, and they continued on as normal. Dream had exchanged his hoodie, offering a T-shirt to George as he recalled an odd memory.
A dare, from his classmate named Quackity, to put on a shirt for every minute he didn’t beat Minecraft. He’d only been friends with him to remain undercover, and yet, he still paid the price. George ended the day with over 100 T-shirts on, an aching ribcage, and a ripped shirt.
He threw it on, allowing his boyfriend to pull him into a tight embrace.
They were free.
They were free, and they’d make the most of it.