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New York City was bustling as always, fall wind chilling George to his bones as he walks down the sidewalk burrowing into his scarf. Holding his hot Starbucks tea in his mittened hands he turned a corner down the street towards his destination. It was barely six-thirty am and his agent called him an hour ago to prepare for an impromptu callback at seven.
He decided to leave early, take a breather before heading to where his unconventional job took him. It was supposed to be a calming one, but as soon as he closed the secluded coffee shop’s door, he was bombarded by flashing bulbs and questions thrown at him. He lost them in the morning crowd on the subway platform. Predators, George thought to himself as he entered the movie studio’s building.
The director of the film was waiting in the lobby and greeted George mirth. Ponk went to a prestigious film school with him and reached out because he thought the role was perfect for his old friend. Both found fame after being discovered, George for the way he completely immersed himself in his acting and Ponk for his experimental directing. After the initial audition, Ponk offered him the role on the spot. The actor who’d be playing his love interest, that was still to be decided.
The premise of the film was two enemies brought together through grief. After a fatal car accident left their mutual friends’ kid an orphan, the two godparents had to overcome their differences. It wasn’t supposed to be a happy story, no not at all, but one that started tragic and ended more devastatingly.
Right up George’s alley.
After a previous role in a TV show garnered him an Emmy nomination at just seventeen for best supporting actor in a drama series, George has been on the Academy’s radar. His performance as a troubled teen abusing drugs to escape reality before being killed by the very thing he was trying to run from broke many hearts. Young George’s character hiding, cowering in a closet with wide eyes and tear streaks down his ashen face. His character being pulled out by his father who had found out his son was gay before beating him to death, leaving him laying a puddle of his blood with labored breathing before the credits rolled. His performance was forever burned into everyone’s memory, even George himself couldn’t watch that episode over again.
He’s twenty-four now and has three Academy Awards and countless other nominations under his belt. With critics saying Ponk’s newest work would be recognized by the prestigious award shows by the plot synopsis and his previous works, George was confident in his abilities to make his vision come to life on the silver screen.
The question is, who will be starring beside him? Who would be playing the tormented Dante beside his fearful Caspian? He hoped they’d like him. He hoped he liked them.
Ponk ushered him into the elevator as they caught up since the previous audition, “So this is going to be a table reading with your prospective co-star! Very exciting stuff, we think he’s the one. But that of course depends on this chemistry reading.”
George nodded along, he’s a professional. He's done this countless times before, “Who is he?” he asked absently.
“I’m not sure if you know of him, he’s relatively new to the acting scene, Clay Evans? You might know him as Dream.”
Oh for fuck sake.
“You’re joking, him?” George gaped at his friend, “he’s a mockery to the art form.”
“What’s so wrong with him?” Ponk snickered, he figured his friend would have that reaction due to the reputation of Dream.
“First off, he’s a fucking asshole. His ego is bigger than Quentin Tarantino’s, you know that’s saying something. He’s self-taught but disobeys any critique or guidance from professionals! He also spilled champagne of my nice powder blue suit.”
“I get the impression that you’ll enjoy working with him then.” Ponk joked as he pushed the door to the conference room open.
“I’m sure I can handle one entitled brat. I’ve seen it all, try me.” George laughed incredulously.
Green eyes met dark brown. The aura surrounding him was confident and prideful.
No matter how much George hated him, he was intrigued. Dream is an enigma, dressed in secrets and mayhem, neatly covered by charisma and secrecy.
He smirked from where he was seated and extended an amicable hand out for a handshake, raising an eyebrow.
“I paid for your dry cleaning. Or were you too wasted to remember, Georgie?”
“Don’t call me that,” He huffed, petulantly ignoring the hand as he picked up the scene script. He flushing after realizing he heard their entire conversation, “Let’s just get this over with.”
“You wound me, Georgie.”
George fixed him with a withering glare, Dream just chuckled as he studied his lines.
Ponk wore a shit-eating grin, he was going to enjoy watching his friend suffer. Maybe it was cruel of him to choose Dream in particular for the part knowing how George disliked celebrities like him, but where’s the fun in that? The natural discordance between them reflects those of their characters, real feelings translate to screen well. That’s the entire purpose of this dynamic read, to see if they bounce off each other well enough.
The casting proved Ponk’s bold choice, pairing a method actor with a classical actor together in the leading roles, to be genius.
The scenes they read through were all bleak, ones that truly tested the actors and showed their humanity. One was when they were at the funeral, Dante read a eulogy stoically before hiding in the bathroom during the reception and breaking down. George had to admit even he was a little impressed in Dream portrayal. It was shockingly real and raw no matter how much he tried to find fault in it, there was none.
The next scene they read through was when Dante comforted Caspian as he had a panic attack after the two put the kid, Oliver, to sleep. George was almost lulled into a sense of security for emotions that weren’t even his own. Despite how much he hated Ponk at the moment, his friend had an eye for finding actors perfect for his roles. He should just become a casting director instead, George thought to himself.
The final was when Oliver screamed that he would never see them as his real family no matter how hard they tried. That was a little hard to act out since the actor playing him, Ranboo, was out of the country working on a different film. Still, Dream managed to blow it out of the water. The aggression peeking through his words with anger simmering just below the surface. Each line delivered with a snarl and venom lacing the words.
Ponk decided not to thrust the two into the more taxing scenes like Oliver’s suicide or the reveal that Dante had been having an affair with the deceased mother. Just from the scenes they ran through briefly, he was confident in his decision to cast them.
“That was- wow. It was exactly like I pictured in my head while writing up the script, you both are phenomenal. Filming starts in a month, we’ll need the snow.” Dream’s grin juxtaposed his teary eyes and wet cheeks as he laughed once Ponk practically danced out the room to talk with producers.
“I’m looking forward to seeing you in December.”
“I’m not, I’ll be dreading the day I have to see you again.”
Dream just threw his head back and laughed, blowing a kiss.
“Until then, my Caspian.”
“Fuck you, Dante.” he spits out, fighting off the flush threatening to color his face.
It was going to be a long six months, George inwardly groaned.
The months before filming went by quicker than George expected. He’d had other auditions proposed by his agent, but he refused. He wanted to give this role his all first before thinking about doing anything else. Something about it felt different and he couldn’t place a finger on why.
He’d shrugged it off when he found a box at his front door labeled “confidential” in all caps and a large red font. It was the full script complete with another copy with Ponk’s specific notes for him, he got to work immediately. George had even called up his theatre star friend Wilbur Soot to help him. Being a Tony winner himself, he was fully aware of the secrecy involved in helping his actor friend with script reading and actor help. Hell, George even helped him with his Broadway scripts and how to incorporate acting into the songs he sang as seamlessly as possible.
“This is... Are you sure you can handle this, Gogy?” concern laced Wilbur’s voice as he continued reading through his lines.
George scoffed, “I’m a professional, Wilby, of course, I can handle it.”
“That’s not what I meant. It’s just much more intimate and grim than what you’re used to, I don’t want you to push yourself too hard on this one.” Wilbur met his eyes with thinly veiled worry, “I don’t want this to hurt you.”
George sighed, he understood where his friend was coming from. Wilbur was the first person he ran to after filming the scene that earned him his first Emmy nomination, sobbing and inconsolable for a good four hours until he was willing to talk about it. Being gay himself and his character being killed for it by someone who was supposed to love him, the lines became too blurred between acting and reality. Wilbur held him the whole time until he opened up.
“It’ll hurt, I know that. It’ll get to me I’m sure, but I have a much better support system and coping mechanisms now than I did before.” He smiled weakly at his friend, grabbing his hand fondly, “I’ll communicate your worries with Ponk if it’ll make you feel better.”
Wilbur exhaled a sigh of relief, “I’m glad you know your limits, but please let the director know. I know how much this role means to you, I want you to be safe during this.”
George grinned wider and nudged his friend’s shoulder, “Aw, you big softie. I love you too, Wilbur.”
“Shut up! Let’s get to reading then, Caspian.” He laughed and shook his head.
George considered himself very well prepared for filming. But, why Ponk decided filming during a snowstorm was smart was beyond him.
Filming chronologically was not how it always was in his line of work, but his friend wanted to tackle the dramatic car crash scene first. Something about setting the tone for the rest of the film.
George and Dream technically didn’t even have to be there, yet the director insisted. They’d get to see Ranboo’s acting style since he hadn’t been able to attend the table read.
The kid reminded George much of himself when he was younger. Emphasis on technical perfection while putting his spin on what he did, making it his own. He and Dream had been assigned to watch through Ranboo’s filmography before filming to understand his method more. Dream even texted him to see if he was up to watch them together as a movie night, tacking on a smiley face at the end. George just disliked his message and left him on read, which was admittedly a bit harsh (If he was trying to be diplomatic, shouldn’t he as well?) From what he saw, he was very impressed. It was rare to find a diamond in the rough such as Ranboo, he’d commended Ponk for getting him to take the role.
The scene didn’t require much of his talents, though, as Ranboo’s character was just supposed to be asleep in the back seat. Oliver’s parents were seated in the front seats, played by Caroline Puffy and another of George and Ponk’s film school buddies, Sam. Their roles weren’t major, as they were killed off literally within the first five minutes, but they’d be making other appearances during filming as manifestations of Dante and Caspian’s pain and guilt.
“Sleepy, Georgie?” Dream snapped George out of his reverie with a yawn.
“I thought I told you not to call me that,” George muttered without looking up at the taller man, “Ponk’s ridiculous call times are taking a toll on everyone.”
“No kidding.” Dream snorted, gesturing to where the three actors in the scene were getting their gory, post-crash makeup done, falling asleep in their chairs. It’s four am, the sun hasn’t even begun to peek above the horizon, no one blames them.
“Do you think they’ll miss us?” George asked quietly, still avoiding looking at Dream, “We’re not scheduled to do scenes until next weekend.”
Yes, George hated Dream. Despised him, wanted nothing to do with him. But he could at least try to be friendly and make up for the way he has been coldly ignoring him up til now.
Dream’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline, turning to look at the shorter man who was still pretending his gaze didn’t root deep into him. “You, George Davidson, want to willingly hang out with a lowlife scoundrel such as me? I’m appalled!”
“Oh, bugger off. I was just being nice.” George huffed and crossed his arms, so much for that.
“And what will you do if I say no?”
“I’ll be gutted, completely heartbroken!” George exclaimed, voice dripping with sarcasm.
“Alright Georgie, I’ll keep you company then if it’ll cause you that much pain.” Dream smirked, taking a sip of his hot coffee.
“Nope. Offer is now rescinded since you called me that.”
“Oh, come on now. What would Ponk say? Should I bring up the text message ordeal to him and file an official complaint?”
“Well, now that you’re practically blackmailing me, you can come with. There’s a nice twenty-four-hour cafe in town.” The wheeze Dream let out was the slightest bit endearing. George bit back a smile as he walked out of the tent with Dream trailing behind.
Maybe it wasn’t going to be so horrible working with him.
By the time the pair were to be back on set, Dream and George had been talking nonstop. As much as it pained him to say, he might have been wrong about his co-star. His company was better than nothing, and the conversations they shared left him feeling fuzzy on the inside. Maybe his resolve was melting, maybe he could slowly put down his walls.
“What do you mean you dip your apples in apple juice?!” Dream exclaimed while laughing while the crew reset the shot. The barely restrained amusement in his voice juxtaposed the scene they were filming, “Hey, Sam did you know he did that?”
“George is just weird like that, we tried to get him to stop but he wouldn’t.” Sam chuckled, sitting up in his coffin next to Puffy. She held up a folded paper fortune teller she had hidden in the white rose flower arrangement, Sam pointed at a section and watched as she unfolded the tab revealing his fortune. Ranboo leaned down and laughed as Sam looked offended and swatted at Puffy as she cackled.
“It’s good! You can’t knock it until you try it.” George grumbled, adjusting his tie as a makeup artist touched him up.
“I will if it’ll prove you wrong.”
“Come back to my trailer next break then.”
“Getting a bit bold there, aren’t you Georgie?”
“For the love of god, please stop calling me that! If I was flirting with you, you wouldn’t know what hit you.”
“I already don’t know what hit me.” Dream’s eyes flashed with something George couldn’t decipher. He sputtered indignantly and bit his lip to keep himself from smiling.
Dream laughed at his co-star’s reaction and punched his shoulder lightly, nearly toppling George into the six-foot deep hole with the other actors. He scowled up at him and shoved him back.
Dream barely moved an inch.
“Aww, tiny, delicate Georgie!”
“I’m not tiny or delicate, I’m average height!”
“Keep telling yourself that, dwarf.”
“I’m going to clobber you, you won’t be laughing when you’re dead.”
“Quiet on set!”
George shot him a glare while Dream just grinned and stuck his tongue out at him. The actors scored their expression and returned to the visible despair their characters felt.
With the clap from the slate, the cheerful and spirited energy from between takes dissolved into somberness.
Dante attempted to comfortingly knead Oliver’s shoulder after reading a eulogy, being shook off by the despondent teen and shrinking away, looking visibly hurt. Throwing yellow and pink roses over the open graves before the dirt was shoveled on. Caspian pricking his finger on a thorn, sneaking away to the bathroom to clean it, and finding Dante crumpled in an open stall muffling his sobs with his fist. He didn’t say much but helped Dante up and dried his tears, washing any sadness on his face away with a damp paper towel.
Ponk called the end of the scene congratulating the two main actors on a successful day of filming before wrapping for the day. George and Dream decided to walk to the nearby hotel the cast was staying at together instead of taking the shuttle with the rest of the cast. They used the excuse of gas emission and took off before anyone else could question them further.
It was just a ten-minute walk, George reasoned, Sure it was freezing, but the cold didn’t touch him, didn’t seep into his bones and weigh him down. He had no idea why, but he felt warm with Dream.
George didn’t want to read much more into that. He was afraid if he sought out the reasoning he would run away from it. You can’t try to escape the truth if you don’t seek it out.
Their boots crunched on the snowy sidewalk as they walked away from the film lot in silence. George was left feeling uneasy, his friend always made conversation with him on the way back to the hotel even if he didn’t feel like reciprocating. That’s why he liked him, he filled the quiet that left George with his thoughts. He was distracting. With eyebrows knit together, he nudged his co-star and looked up with furrowed brows. Dream sighed.
“No matter how much I love acting, I will never be able to enjoy doing scenes like that.” He muttered, barely audible over the howling wind, “It always leaves me feeling barely human, you know?”
George hummed in agreement, “I get that. Separating yourself from the pain your character is supposed to be feeling is almost impossible sometimes.”
“Especially when there’s little to no dialogue, you’re just supposed to hurt. It makes me doubt my career choice sometimes.” Dream let out a huff of laughter.
Despite only really knowing him for a few weeks now, George could tell that his comment wasn’t fully a joke.
“Hey, you’re a great actor you know?”
Dream made a noise of disagreement, “Even you said it yourself the day of the dynamic read.”
George stopped walking and grabbed Dream’s arms, turning to face him. “I want you to forget anything I said before I made an effort to know you. I was stupid and held a grudge from that one award show party. Maybe I was just jealous, jealous you’re doing things I could never do. You’re changing the game, Dream. Just look at the scene we filmed today! You had zero lines and showed Dante’s anguish perfectly. Even if you think you’re shit, I know you’re not.”
He looked straight into Dream’s eyes, trying to read his emotions. The corners of his mouth barely lifted as he looked down at his feet, “Thank you, Georgie.”
George shrugged as they reached the door of the hotel lobby, “I really mean it, you know? You’d do the same for me I’m sure. This is the one time I’ll admit I was stupid, revel in it.” That earned a laugh from the dejected Dream.
George didn’t know when they started walking with their sides pressed flush together, but he didn’t mind it either.
Once in the elevator, George could see the tear tracks on his face in the light. He grimaced and turned away knowing if he mentioned it, Dream would close off.
“Do you- do you think I can stay with you?” Dream’s hoarse voice struck a chord, “Not for the full night, I just don’t want to be alone right now.”
“Of course, Dream.” George smiled up at him. He wouldn’t ask what was bothering him, he wouldn’t prod any further. If he wanted to talk, George would listen.
He took Dream’s hand and lead him to his room, down the hallway with all the casts’ rooms. Luckily, they all retired much earlier than they had since they took the shuttle. Not that George was embarrassed to be seen with him, he just didn’t want them seeing Dream while he felt like this.
He said nothing as he sat him on his bed, pulling him into his side. Dream slowly rested his head on George’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around him.
The closeness stole George’s breath. He desperately hoped Dream couldn’t feel his heart beating like a stampede in his chest. He just pulled him closer, rocking him, rubbing his hand up and down Dream’s back with the other buried in his hair.
The comforting movement soothed him to the brink of sleep soon enough, George pulling away to adjust their position so they were laying down instead. Once Dream fell asleep, George would get up and move to the couch, he decided. What he didn’t count for was the comforting heat of being held lulling him to sleep as well. The ache and exhaustion from the day chasing him, so George decided to surrender.
It wasn’t weird to cuddle with your friend and sleep with them, right?
“Thank you.” Dream murmured into George’s hair once the man was asleep.
He wouldn’t have to know.
Filming that day was hard, George wasn’t going to pretend like it wasn’t. Ponk started them off simple enough, Ranboo doing a school scene, then the trio shooting a semi-tense dinner scene, and finally a short, rage-fueled filled love and morning-after scene. That was a feat in itself, George was lucky his blush at Dream’s toned chest and shy flush at Dante’s actions was in character. After the lunch break though, that’s when things got much more taxing.
The crew brought in therapy dogs specifically for the scenes today which George thought was a little much, before filming that is. Caspian sang Oliver to sleep after he had a nightmare about the car crash, leaving the room and promptly having a panic attack. Then right after that scene was done, they filmed Oliver’s suicide and Dante finding him with Caspian, one of the final scenes in the movie.
By then, the whole cast and some of the crew were snuggling the furry puppies in between takes. Ranboo was wrapped for the day after that but promptly stole one of the animals and ran off to his trailer by himself. If anyone saw the tears, they didn’t mention it. All in a day’s work.
The last scene on the schedule was one George was dreading, Caspian finding out about Dante’s affair with Oliver’s mother after their relationship started to blossom.
“You can do this,” Wilbur said over the phone, “You’ve done much worse before.”
George was forever grateful to his friend for immediately picking up when he texted, seeking comfort before filming.
“I wish you were here so I could hug you.”
“I’m just a phone call away, I’d drive out if it wasn’t opening week.” He said regretfully. George could hear the clamor and action of Broadway backstage through the tinny phone speaker.
A crew member knocked on his trailer door telling him they needed him. With a shuddery breath, George stood up. “That’s my cue.”
“You’ve got this big man, I believe in you. Call me right after.”
“Thank you, Wilbur.” He said breathlessly before hanging up. He could do this, he thought trying to boost his morale.
George decided to stop by the pen of puppies before, finding Dream laying on the floor inside covered with them. He grinned up at him and beckoned to George.
“Ready, Georgie?
“I wish I could say it was.” He joked lightly with a thin-lipped smile as he helped Dream up, petting one of the dogs inside briefly.
He nodded in understanding, “Not the best day of shooting. I talked with Ranboo a bit before, too. Poor kid was curled up with a little furball talking to Puffy.”
“Everyone knows she’s the therapist around here” George smiled at that. Even though they were almost wrapped, the cast had become so close over the months, “Therapuffy.”
“Places everyone, the shot is set up!” someone in the crew called.
“The sooner we start, the sooner it’ll be over.” Dream whispered and squeezed George’s hand reassuringly. He wished he could pull him in for an embrace as they did months ago, but the encouraging contact was enough to motivate him.
The two made their way over to the set, George taking his place at the desk where he would be looking through Dante’s former online interactions with the mother and Dream waiting in the fake hallway.
He took a deep breath as the slate clapped, forcing his thoughts as himself to the back of his mind. Caspian’s feelings weren’t his own, but they sure felt like it.
It didn’t hurt when Dante stepped on Caspian’s heart, ripped it to pieces. It didn’t hurt when Dante didn’t even bother trying to lie or explain himself knowing he had been caught. It didn’t hurt when Caspian’s love for him was extinguished. Nope, it didn’t affect George at all. He was a liar.
He zoned out during the multiple takes they had to do, falling back on his instincts as an actor.
When he came to, Dream was kneeling in front of him with fear written all over his face. Ponk had wrapped for the day ten minutes ago, yet George was still sat on the prop bed with tears streaming down his face.
“Hey, let’s go back to the hotel, okay?” It wasn’t a question, more rhetorical than anything, but George still nodded vacantly and let Dream tug him to the shuttle. They sat in the front so they could avoid everyone else sat near the back, a semblance of privacy. The others didn’t bother congratulating the two stars that day.
With his friend leaning on him heavily, Dream held him close as he had done for him before. Once they arrived at the hotel, George was still silently sobbing into his shoulder. He took it upon himself to escort him to his room instead of leaving him alone.
George helped him when he needed it, he would do the same for him.
After a solid hour of them laying down together, Dream stroking his hair and patting his back occasionally, George spoke.
“I should go.” His voice shook a little like he was trying to hide it.
“What? No, you’re not leaving until you feel better.
“I’m not going to burden you with my troubles” He sniffled and moved away from Dream’s warmth, going to stand up.
He pulled George, “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But I’m not letting you leave.” Dream murmured, breath fanning out on George’s cheeks.
The raw concern in his eyes tore a sob from deep within his chest.
“I’m sorry, Dream. I know it’s just acting but… I just want to be needed.” George wept in between hiccuping sobs, his friend stayed quiet.
He continued unfiltered, “I felt the way he was unwanted, replaceable. It’s just too much for me to handle, I don’t want to feel like that, Dream.”
“You are wanted though, George. By so many people.”
“That’s not true, you’re lying to me.”
Deep down, he knew what Dream was saying was true, he just couldn’t believe it especially after grounding himself in an unstable character’s emotions the entire day. He wished it didn’t resonate so deeply within him.
“Ponk, he wanted you for the role of Caspian and actively sought you out.”
“That’s one person.”
“Ranboo, Puffy, and Sam, they want to talk to you, they want to build a friendship and connection!”
“What about you then, do you want me?”
George had been putting on a brave face far too long, filming was taking a huge toll on him no matter how hard he pretended like it wasn’t. He was a professional, he shouldn’t be hurt by one fictional argument. But it felt like he had been cast aside by the one person he wanted to be wanted by.
Dream swallowed audibly, eyes flickering down to George’s lips before meeting his eyes once again.
“More than you could ever know, George.”
George’s heart was beating out of his chest, he recoiled at the transparency of the statement. Yet still, he asked, “Wh-what do you mean?”
“I want you, George Davidson.”
Dream wiped a stray tear from George’s eye with the rough pad of his thumb, leaving his hand there to caress his cheek. The truth had finally caught up to him, the feelings he had been running from made themselves known. He had been avoiding them for far too long.
“Please say something,” Dream begged.
Bold, fearless Clay Evans, the one that called out reporters and interviewers for crossing a line, the one that always spoke his mind but listened to others and made sure they were heard, the one that cared for others above himself despite the media depicting him as a selfish prick, was reduced to a fragile, quivering mess.
“You already have me”
The relieved, breathless smile that overtook Dream’s face once he processed the words was brighter than any other he had seen. George grinned back dopily through his tears, brushing their noses together as he exhaled shakily.
The weight of his secret love he’d tried and failed to repress was gone, all that was left in its place was Dream.
He kissed him, finally. Like the tide meets the shore.
Time stopped, leaving only feeling. Dream’s lips were like ambrosia, he couldn’t get enough. All he wanted to do from now on was drown in them, drown in Dream’s love and his love for Dream.
For the first time since George had known himself, he didn’t feel fear. He felt adored, he felt loved
It felt dangerous, like diving headfirst into shark-infested waters.
It felt like a secret, shared between two lovers whispered during stolen midnights.
It felt like home, warm and true.
It felt like a promise.
It felt like destiny.
The two pulled away breathlessly, cheeks flushed and panting slightly.
“The one time I let myself fall, the one time I allow myself to love someone, and I can’t have them.” George’s lip trembled and his eyes glistened with unshed tears as they leaned their foreheads against each other.
“You already do, George. I’m already yours if you’ll let me.” There was an urgency in Dream’s voice, all panic and passion. He had just got George, he wouldn’t be letting him go anytime soon.
“But what will the media think-”
“Let them think, I know I want to be with you. Will you be with me?”
George pondered that. Dream truly desired him, what was holding him back?
Green eyes held a promise of love, a promise to cherish him for as long as he’d allow him to.
“If you’ll let me.”
The two lovers were inseparable since filming wrapped. They had intended to keep their romance hidden, but everyone caught on pretty fast after finding them napping together in a trailer.
In between other filming jobs, they always found each other. George traveling to London for the week to surprise Dream, spending every waking moment murmuring “I love you’s” to his lover and holding him close, relishing in the warmth before he’d have to leave it. Dream flying to Skagway taking time out of his busy schedule to guest star in the TV show George was starring in, just to see him and speak to him in person.
They were reunited during the press tour for Ponk’s film, luckily paired together for every interview. Sometimes Ranboo was stuck between them on cramped couches during select reports, but the kid understandably wanted to avoid that. They didn’t blame him at all. The couple, still unconfirmed to the public, often cast each other longing gazes and lingering touches.
“Dream is... well he’s tolerable” George laughed, “I’ve worked with worse.”
“Tolerable?” Dream sputtered indignantly before lowering his voice to a low whisper in George’s ear, just for him to hear with breath tickling his neck, “Am I really that terrible, darling?”
“Barely tolerable,” George said pointedly while shoving him away, hoping the warmth he felt inside didn’t reach his cheeks. The poor interviewer had no idea what she signed up for. George almost felt bad they were ruining it, thinly veiled innuendos, inside jokes only the couple understood.
Once they escaped the watchful eyes of the interview crew and cameras, they holed up in their shared hotel room with a do not disturb sign hanging from the handle for the rest of the day.
They walked the red carpet at the New York Premiere, royal blue and emerald suits with matching cufflinks. Not that the photographers would catch the engraved lettering or glittering gems, it was just for them. A way for them to show their love without wearing their rings.
The lasting contact between them and blatant admiration on Dream’s face during the concise interviews before the premiere was enough to fan the flame of the circulating rumors.
During award season, both were nominated for best actor in every show they were eligible for. Ponk was nominated for best directing and Ranboo for best supporting actor in a drama as well as the film overall being up for best picture. All George and Dream really cared about was each other, as always.
One photographer after the Golden Globes caught the two smiling with their foreheads against each other’s after Dream won an award during the after-party. The public wouldn’t get full confirmation until a month later during the Oscars.
George and Dream waited with bated breath, holding each other’s hands tightly waiting for the envelope for the best actor would be opened.
“The best actor is... George Davidson, Stolen Midnights!”
With unrestrained joy, Dream was pulled into a passionate kiss before he walked up calmly to the stage to accept the award pretending nothing happened. His speech was deeply heartfelt, thanking Ponk and the Academy as well as the cast for being his family.
As the orchestra starts playing him off, George hurriedly added something else impulsively.
“Clay Evans, you're the heart of this film. You are beyond immensely talented and you have captured my heart. Thank you so much!”