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George used to skate in these skin-tight black pants his mom bought him. He’d practice doing a kickflip until his wrists hurt from catching his falls and his shoes were dirty from the grip tape. That was before he met Dream.
Back when Dream had dyed his hair pink after a spontaneous night with his sister and her friends (they all ended up dying some amount of their hair pink, Dream did his whole head) and loved to listen to slow indie songs. He’d seen George from a distance, across the skate park. George was at the edge of the bowl about to drop in.
Because Dream had been watching the shorter for a few days (or weeks, Dream went to that skate park nearly every day) he just knew the new skater wasn’t ready to drop in like that just yet. So, without ever previously speaking a word to the boy in black skinny jeans or even making eye contact, Dream rolled on over.
“Hey,” Dream greeted, “you gonna drop in?”
Apparently, Dream really startled the poor boy because he tripped backward on his board and landed on his ass on the concrete. Dream wished he was quick enough to catch him, that would’ve been really cute.
One thing lead to the other and that day Dream ended up giving George tons of tips and even holding his hands so he wouldn’t fall while practicing tricks. It was something that Dream would’ve imagined before he went to bed or something, teaching a pretty boy at the skate park a kickflip. A pretty boy who giggles like he’s never had more fun and whose cheeks are burned red from the early summer sun.
By the time they exchanged numbers Dream knew he liked George, somewhere in the back of his mind he knew. But he was dumb and couldn’t quite pinpoint why he was okay with losing hours of sleep just to text the brunet while he tossed and turned in bed with a huge grin and his phone screen spotlighting his happiness.
George bought a pair of looser jeans. Ones his mom told him looked too big. Dream laughed so hard when George told him that, he nudged George’s knee with his metal water bottle as they sat in the grass outside the fence of the skatepark. “I think they look good,” Dream had said. He didn’t miss the hopeful smile on George’s face.
The two had gotten in a bit of a routine that summer. Meeting at the park every afternoon, (or later, they ended up sleeping in pretty late due to texting all night until a ‘you asleep?’ Text message went unread and one of them was already asleep) skating until sweat dripped down their faces, lounging in the sweet shade on the grass, then skating to the grocery store nearby for sodas or popsicles.
Dream got more into alternative pop music. Not because that was what George liked, of course.
It had been a particularly uneventful day when George absolutely biffed it in the bowl. He had dropped in, which by that time he was pretty good at, and hit a stupid pebble halfway down. The rock lodged its way between the tire and truck, halting rotation immediately and sending George flying. He caught himself by his hands and knees.
Luckily, due to how he landed, he wasn’t too badly hurt and his palms were hardly skinned. But he’d ripped a hole in the knee of his pants.
“Dammit!” George cursed, rolling onto his ass to sit and check the damage.
Dream, who had been at the top of the bowl, skidded down the side and slid next to George. “Oh my god! Are you okay?” He instantly took his friends hands to check for blood and scrapes.
“I’m fine, the fall wasn’t too bad,” George let Dream inspect his hands. Dream may have gotten a bit sidetracked with George’s slim fingers in his hand, he ended up turning them over and admiring the back even though George clearly didn't hurt that part. “But I tore a hole in my pants,” said George.
The two observed the hole. Dream said something about how the hole proves George is practicing hard, and poked his finger in the tear, touching George’s bare knee before someone else from at the top of the bowl yelled at them to get up so they could use it.
Apparently, George didn’t want the hole in his jeans. As much as Dream said it was cool he still didn’t like it.
They ended up both skating to George’s house so he could change. That was the first time they hung out and one of their houses.
It felt weird, walking through the threshold of George’s house. Invited into his personal life, seeing where he lived. There was a hustle and bustle in the brunet's house, his mum cooking in the kitchen, siblings playing in the living room, tv on, yelling and arguing, and loud music coming from a decorated door down the hall. A stark contrast to what Dreams house was like.
“Sorry, I thought nobody was home,” said George as they removed their shoes by the door.
George’s bedroom was so cool. He had posters and random things covering most of the walls, colored string lights draped on the ceiling, a bookshelf full of mangas, graphic novels, and magazines (George wasn’t huge on ‘actual reading’ as he called it). He even had a little canopy thing over his bed that Dream would later find out used to belong to his younger sister.
He took a seat on the bed as George rummaged in his dresser.
“Don’t look, I’m gonna change,” George said after he found a clean pair of pants.
After George was changed into a pair of what looked to be painting pants (white denim, multicolored paint stains) he let Dream open his eyes.
God, did he look cute. Dream actually hadn’t seen him wear much else besides his usual baggy black jeans so it was a pleasant surprise seeing him in something different.
Dream briefly hid his cheeks behind his hands and looked to his left pretending to be distracted by a large poster for a movie he’d never seen.
“I’m trying to figure out how I’m gonna fix this hole,” George said as he looked through the drawer in his small white desk. At the time Dream wondered if he might pull out a needle and thread and start sewing the tear up by hand. He didn’t though.
“Why don’t you just buy a new pair?”
“They're thrifted,” George pulled something out of the drawer, “hey this might work!” In his hand, he held up an embroidered patch that resembled a bright red mushroom. Dream almost swooned, he’d never known anyone quite like George, someone who would patch up a hole in their jeans with a mushroom.
The two made their way downstairs where George presented his mum with the jeans and patch. She guided them to the laundry room where her sewing machine was located. It was surprisingly comfortable with his friend's mum, unlike how Dream expected it to be.
She asked Dream some of the classic get to know you questions as she quickly attached the patch. George must’ve been able to tell he was feeling a little awkward because at some point he latched his hand around the back of Dreams bicep, just out of view of his mum. For the first time in a while, Dream wished he wasn’t wearing a hoodie (he wanted to wear a hoodie every day, but couldn’t as much because of the hardly bearable summer heat) so that he could’ve felt in more detail George's fingers on his body.
George latched onto his arm as Dream told his mum what his plans were after the summer (the classic ‘college?’ question that Dream was so incredibly sick of hearing long before that point) and feeling the warmth of his home, smelling the food cooking in the kitchen, the muffled sound of the tv. It was an odd sense of comfort in somewhere Dream would’ve thought there’d be very little of.
After that day George wore his newly fixed pants just as much as he did before. The mushroom patch didn’t perfectly cover the entire hole but Dream suspects George wasn’t trying to completely fix it. Either way, it was super cute.
The summer kept trudging on. Eventually, the heat became too much to handle so they’d hang out inside until they could leave the house and skate during sunset late into the cool night. During that time Dream took George to his house for the first time too. His mom was out at work (as she usually was, single mothers shouldn’t have to work as hard as they do, bless their souls) as she usually was but his older sister was home.
If she had known at the time she probably would've been a lot more embarrassing. She would've called George Dreams 'boyfriend' just to embarrass the blond until he was bright red and pulling Georg away. But Dream didn't let himself fall victim to that around her. Not with how fragile things were with George, how his friend could've slipped through his fingers if he knew what Dream was thinking at the time and didn't reciprocate feelings.
Plus, Dream hadn't entirely figured out the whole things that was going on with his heart and George.
After passing Dream's sister in the hallway (Dream quickly introducing George and her just about to leave for work) they found themselves in Dreams bedroom. It wasn't as cool and decorated as George's, not by any means. Dirty clothes were strewn on the floor, a single crooked poster and skateboard parts all over his desk stood as proof. Dream had quickly tidied up while George was in the bathroom though. So hopefully a few less dirty clothes made the place more presentable.
They sat on the floor, leaned up against the edge of Dream's bed. For the first time, Dream wished he had a cooler room, before then he had never cared about those kinds of things.
"Oh, I just remembered, I gotta show you this trick I saw online," Dream said after a bout of silence as George glanced around the room. Yes, he was insecure that George was slowly judging his living quarters. But he really did have something to show George so it wasn't a totally lame excuse.
George smiled, a hum barely making noise behind his lips. His loose white t-shirt was hanging just under his collarbones and Dream had been trying the whole day not to stare. George scooted over as Dream pulled out his phone and searched for the video. He hadn't been paying too close attention so when George was pressed up against his side Dream felt his cheeks heat up a little and his heart get excited.
When the video started to play Dream held his phone out for them both to see, his phone and hands resting on his knees. George watched intently, chin in palm, all too close. "We should try that," George said, he was almost whispering.
As the short video clip ended Dream felt himself unmoving from George. "Yeah, we should, I think you'd be able to get the hang of it pretty quick." He replied, voice the same volume as George's.
Before Dream could turn to read what George's expressions were the brunet dropped his head on Dreams shoulder and placed his hand on Dream's arm. He was so close and so warm and Dream had a million different thoughts run through his head in the span of three short seconds. He looked down at George's hand, resting on Dream. Something about it, about the placement and closeness, made Dream feel like he was safe. Like right there was the best place to be.
Dream sat still. Trying to keep his shoulder in the exact same spot so George's head would never move, so they could stay like that for a couple centuries more.
Eventually, George stirred. His head lifting ever so slightly so they could make eye contact. Even though Dream knew he looked a mess and was one second from losing his cool he looked down into George. His brown eyes big and smiling. "I really like hanging out with you Dream. I don't know what it is but, I just feel like I can," His eyes seemed to flash down to Dream's lips (at the time Dream told himself he was crazy for thinking that happened), "Be myself? I don't know, that sounds dumb."
It did sound dumb. But Dream loved it. He soaked in every word like it was medicine, like he was a boy in a coming-of-age romance novel. George smiled bigger than ever when Dream said he felt the same, when he told his friend he would not have rather been spending his summer with anyone else.
They went over to Dream's house several more times, usually to sit in front of the TV and watch a random movie or to search through the kitchen for something to eat. Dream never missed an opportunity to sit on the same couch as George, especially when they decided to squish together on the smaller one side by side as the family cat sat across their legs. Something about that filled Dreams insides up with a warm glow.
A feeling like he and George were together or something. Like it was their house and their cat and no one would ever come interrupt.
But because they weren't living in Dreams outlandish fantasies people did come to interrupt. And one of those people was Dream's sister. She came bursting into the room just as Dream had his hands wrapped around George's ankle in his lap and was debating whether or not to pull George by his leg and into his lap. Her booming voice was complimented by those of her friends (the same ones Dream had died his hair pink with back in the very beginning of the summer, the color was long faded from all of their hair by that point).
With a fury of young adult energy, she demanded Dream and George come with them to the beach. It would've taken a lot more convincing if George hadn't agreed so quickly. And after seeing his face light up with the prospect of going to the beach, Dream didn't have the heart to tell George that he didn't like sand.
It was only an hour until they were all smashed into his sisters' sedan, having collected their swimsuits and everything else they needed. George sat in the middle seat between Dream and one of his sisters' friends. His faded teal swim trunks exposed so much of George's legs that Dream hadn't seen before. He wanted to reach over and rest his hand on George's thigh, but he knew that would be way too inappropriate.
At the beach, Dream couldn't keep his eyes off George. The boy looked so happy running along the shore, screaming with Dreams sister and her friends and kicking cold ocean water up in the air. It was a lovely sight to behold, Dream may have even snuck a few pictures to laugh at (read: swoon and admire) later.
But it became tainted when one of the girls ran up behind George and jumped on his back. He caught her, both of them laughing loudly until Dream's sister shoved them over into the cold water and George dropped her as they stumbled over.
Dream hadn't felt jealous before. Not with George at least. The whole summer up until that point had been just the two of them. Despite a few people at the skate park making conversation from time to time, it was just Dream and George ninety-nine percent of the time. He had George all to himself. So seeing George and her almost ruined the beach day for Dream, but George had come running over (running the best you can in sand) and pulled Dream into the water.
They swam together, heads bobbing and eyes stinging from saltwater. George was close under the water and Dream could feel their feet touching. When a big wave came and crashed over their heads, pushing them under, George threw his arms around Dreams neck. Dream held George close as they came back to the surface, gasping for air and laughing. For a second, their foreheads even pressed together.
On the car ride home, George rested his head on Dreams shoulder much like he had not too long before. That time, however, Dream relaxed and leaned his head on top of George's. Coarse, salt-coated brown hair scratched Dreams cheek the whole car ride but he was too exhausted and happy to care.
Something about that day made Dream suddenly feel like he was drowning in George. And unlike in the water, he couldn't just swim up for air.
Suddenly, every time they went skating down the street and George was a few feet away with the wind whipping through his hair Dream wanted to skate over and hold his hand. And he wanted George to want it too. Dream wanted for everything to last forever, for George's giggles to float through the air and echo in the trees.
The summer needed to keep going, but before Dream knew it it was well past the middle of summer and all the stores were putting out their back-to-school supplies. The stupid plastic pencil cases and composition notebooks evoked a new kind of anxiety in Dream, one that wasn't just the dread of going back to school he was used to the past twelve years.
Because, honestly, Dream wasn't going back to school. And neither was George. They both had graduated high school and were taking a gap year break until starting college. But even so, Dream couldn't help from growing a pit of dread fear in his gut. He worried that because he and George's friendship began with the summer that it would end with it as well.
And even though it was a dumb thing to worry about, Dream still entertained the thought. He still sat with it for several days. "Hey, George?" Dream asked while they sat at the top of one side of the halfpipe at the skatepark they'd come to know so well.
"Yeah?" George replied nonchalantly as he picked at the aglet of his shoelace with his full attention.
"Do you- uh," Dream paused, George looked up to show Dream he was listening. "Do you wanna keep hanging out? I mean like even after the summer ends."
His puzzled look said it all. "Huh?" When Dream seemed to give a sad look George was damn near jumping over to Dream, pulling him to a hug. "What? Dream, of course I do!" He hugged George back for a few long moments their chests close and George almost halfway on his lap.
They sat like that, and they allowed it fully. Dream arms loosened from a tight 'never ever let me go' grip to gentle strokes up and down George's spine. As he did so, George's hands fiddled with the soft blond hair on the back of Dream's neck. Hugs like that were something Dream didn't know existed. Let alone something he'd experience.
"I want to hang out with you all the time Dream," George piped up, "through the fall and winter and spring and summer, again and again."
"Really?"
"Yes, of course, you idiot!" They pulled away to look at each other. Dream hadn't noticed the sun almost completely set. "But if you keep touching my back like that I might not make it to next week." George breathed out with a soft laugh.
Dream smirked, "Oh? How come?" He ghosted his fingers gently across the thin material of George's t-shirt. Just as Dream asked, "Sensitive?" in a low voice George surged forward into Dream, hitting his head on Dream's shoulder and puffing out hot air onto his collarbone.
"Dream," George said breathlessly. "I can't help it. I- I want to," his words ceased for a moment, Dream paused his hand. "I don't know if you feel the same but I really, really like you."
With the words still processing in his brain and a tingly feeling in his limbs, Dream pulled George's head away ever so gently, and after a brief moment of eye contact and a nod from George Dream slotted their lips together.
Kissing was something Dream didn't know George would be so good at (despite how many times he imagined what it would feel like). Unlike the few people he kissed in high school George was gentle and soft, but rough and needy all at the same time. He pushed and pulled and turned Dream inside out. He whimpered into Dreams mouth and it made his whole body start on fire. Before Dream knew it George was crawling into his lap and their chests were pressed together.
When they pulled away and caught their breath they both smiled impossibly huge. "I like you too George. You're like, my favorite person ever." Dream replied.
That was the best summer Dream ever had. Even though the sweltering heat was just as terrible as it had always been and he ended up breaking two skateboard decks it was still the absolute best. Because he met George that summer. The man who completes him and makes every day all the more exciting and joyful.
Every summer since then (and every fall, winter, and spring too) since then has been the best too. George makes every season a little happier and a little more bearable.
Even when they moved away together out of their hometown to bigger and better things, Dream still looks at George with the same awe and admiration as he did all those years ago at the skatepark.