Work Text:
Dream has a problem.
A big problem, an earth shattering, life changing, mega problem.
Okay, maybe he’s being a tad dramatic.
It’s a late Friday night, or early Saturday morning when he realizes his problem. He’s ruining his sleep schedule in exchange for a few more precious moments staring at his phone screen in a darkened room, switching between scrolling twitter and instantly texting George back at every opportunity, laughing to himself at every dumb thing he says.
The realization hits him when his chest aches at the blurry, dark photo George sends from his bed, only showing the bridge of his nose, soft brown eyes and nearly black curls that meld into the darkness of his room.
‘Hehe, you cant see my hair. Invisihair’
Dream sits up in bed, his smile falling as he stares at those damned honey eyes, pallor skin and droopy curls, and that stupid message.
Oh fuck. He likes George.
Oh fuck. He likes George.
It’s not his fault. Not when George looks like that, skin made of marble and eyes like molten bronze, a smile so soft and kind it looks fragile upon pastel lips. It’s not his fault when George’s laugh sounds as addicting as nicotine, his British accent so mesmerizing he feels like falling to his knees when he hears it. It’s not his fault, and he guesses it’s not Georges either.
And maybe he knew far before now, he realizes. Because he’d always found himself drifting to George’s side, would always look for the mess of brown hair in a crowded room, would feel an empty spot beside him whenever he climbed into his own bed. Maybe he knew because he had felt such anger when he’d seen a man clutching George’s shirt, breathing hot words in his face. And he knew when he’d pushed through a crowd to get to his side, to get to his George, a possessiveness taking him over so abruptly he hadn’t been able to control the arm sliding around his waist, pulling at his hip to trap him close to his body, a mantra of George, George, George playing in the back of his mind.
Dream has always known. But he has only just realized.
Dream can’t bring himself to respond to the brunette, turning over in his bed and letting his phone buzz until sleep finally takes him.
And Dream can’t bring himself to send a good morning text like he always does, just stares achingly at his phone as each message pops up, watches it in the early morning light until it stops buzzing and his screen goes forever dark. Thankfully he doesn’t have to go into work, doesn’t have to confront the man he’s very suddenly realized his feelings for. But he does tomorrow, and it’s a ticking time clock to figure things out.
He can’t talk to Sapnap about it. Sapnap wouldn’t understand, wouldn’t be much help in that department either. And God, he can’t tell George .
Actually, there’s only one person he can feel he can trust with this secret, and trust to give him the proper advice.
So, just before noon, Dream’s sat at his desk, listening to the familiar ring ring of his phone.
“Dream!” A cheery voice greets him, and Dream can feel the instant relief that washes over him at the others voice, an easy smile slipping to his lips. “What’s up?”
“Hey Bad.” Dream hums in response. “Not much, I’ve been busy with work mostly.” He hears shuffling noises, a dog's bark and a quiet hush that makes him laugh a little.
“Sorry- that’s good! 404 Tech, right?” Dream nods, and then hums along when he realises he can’t see his nod. “Thought so! How’s it been there? I know you were settling in last time we talked, is the pay still good? Got a good boss?”
Dream laughs, again, but it’s more out of nervousness than anything actually funny being said. “Yeah, it’s good! It’s been really good. It’s.. it’s kind of why I called you. I need some advice.” Dream shifts the phone to his other hand, picking anxiously at the edge of a hole in his jeans.
“Uh oh. What’s wrong?” Bad sounds concerned, and Dream winces some with regret.
“No, no ‘uh oh’! The job’s great, it’s.. It’s my boss. He’s great, a great boss. And I’ve become friends with him, he’s only a few years older than me. It’s been great, we’ve been hanging out a bunch, and he’s great when we’re on the job and all. But, uh..” Dream pauses for a moment, trying to still his frantic heart and regain his composure. Bad waits patiently on the line, as he always does.
“Go on.”
Dream gulps.
“I’m.. I’m pretty sure I have a crush on him.” Dream listens to the intake of breath Bad does, and he groans, letting his head fall onto his knees. “I know .”
“Hey! That’s not.. It’s not bad . Y’know. Is he.. Is he gay too?”
Dream sighs. “I don’t know, I don’t think so. When we first started hanging out, he’d just broken up with his girlfriend. Or, she broke up with him, I mean. But he’s never mentioned anything, but..”
And Dream thinks of the times he’s caught George looking at him when he thought he wasn’t paying attention, thinks of the flush that came to his cheeks every time he smiled at him during meetings. Dream thinks of when their fingers touch in passing and he would see the way George’s shoulders would shudder, and how the other’s gaze would linger on his tattoos, on the dip of his skin whenever he’d stretch and flash tanned skin for the briefest of moments.
He thinks of fevered cheeks, snuggling into his chest and searching for his warmth, searching for him , sick fingers tracing the twisting ink.
Dream thinks of the way George had leaned into his side, so grateful for his presence to ward off a dangerous drunk, how he had stared at him with a twinkle in his eyes he had never seen before.
“Maybe I’m looking into it too much. I don’t know, Bad. I didn’t know who else to call.” Dream groans again, squeezing his eyes shut.
“Aw, Dream.” Bad’s voice is pitying, but not in a demeaning way. “It sounds like you have it bad.” The whine Dream makes only furthers that statement. “Do you want advice, or did you just want to tell someone?”
“I don’t know.. Both, I think?” He can hear the nod Bad does.
“Alright, well, what makes you think you’re looking into things too much? What’s that mean?”
Dream’s quiet for a moment, pursing his lips. “Sometimes.. Sometimes it feels like he does what I do. Like.. checking me out. And he doesn’t mind when I sit close to him and like, our knees or shoulders touch. It almost feels like he wants it to happen, sits as close to me as he can without it being obvious.”
“Except it is obvious.” Dream laughs.
“Yeah, exactly. It feels like he’s reciprocating what I do, but I don’t know if he’s even aware of it. I mean, maybe he’s just a touchy guy, or overly nice. He did just get broken up with. With his girlfriend, again. And he didn’t say anything when I told him I was gay for me to think he liked guys in that way… So that’s.. ugh. I don’t know, Bad.”
Bad doesn’t say anything just yet, and it eggs Dream into continuing after a few moments of silence.
“I don’t want to ruin whatever we have by coming forward with all this. George is a really great guy, and a really good friend. Not to mention he’s my boss . If I were to fuck it all up, I’d be screwed over so royally I’d never recover. I’m certain of that.” Dream takes a breath, breathing it out in a sigh. “What do I do, Bad?”
“Honestly? I don’t know George, or the situation well enough to be like ‘go for it!’. But if you see something there, and really see it, however small it is, you should just wait it out. If something comes out of this, then that’s good! But if not..” Bad lets the silence finish his sentence.
Dream sighs. It’s not the answer he wants, but he knows it’s what should be done. Telling George would ruin everything, would absolutely destroy a very important part of his life.
Dream could do this. He could find happiness in viewing him from afar, never getting too close to be burned. Dream wouldn’t become an Icarus.
“Thanks, Bad. You always know what to say.” Dream hums with a small smile, and he can hear Bad’s smile in his voice.
“Aw, Dream. You don’t have to thank me! Take some time for yourself, alright? And I’m always here if you want to talk.”
Dream knows this; Bad was always there for him when he couldn’t get through to Sapnap or when he needed unbiased advice.
Take some time for himself. He can do that.
Dream spends the rest of the weekend doing what he wants. Which is mostly just playing video games and working on side projects. He’s withdrawn, just a bit, from Sapnap, but his roommate is used to these isolated spells, so he leaves him be. It’s the lack of talking to George that gets to him, guilt eating away at his lungs each time he lifts his phone to try and text him back. Dream knows he’ll have to deal with him come Monday, but he can’t seem to will his fingers to move, to type out more than a few dry responses.
Hopefully George understands.
__________________
A knock at his door has him looking up. Monday has come with an early start, groggy feet dragging him into the work building far before anyone other than the janitorial staff had entered. It’s brighter outside now, the sun casting a yellow haze through the window as he calls for whoever to enter. And the door opens to soft brown curls and a bright face. George is smiling, standing straight in the doorway, dressed in a suit that fits his frame almost too well. In his hands are two styrofoam cups of coffee.
“Morning!” George’s voice is a welcome distraction from the sleepiness pulling at his brain, and Dream shifts back from the emails he’d been answering as George enters, nudging the door shut with his foot as he holds out one of the coffee mugs. “Saw you got here before me, so I thought you’d want a coffee. Double milk and one sugar.”
Some of Dream’s heart melts as he takes the cup, and gives the other a grateful smile. “Aw, thanks man. I didn’t get a chance to grab any, Sapnap used all of my k-cups and didn’t buy anymore.” George chuckles, pulling a chair closer and sliding into it.
“Man, what an asshole. I would never treat you that way.” George jokes, and Dream nearly chokes on his coffee. He forces the burning liquid down, and smiles some at him. George smiles back, but then his face slips into something a bit more serious, concerned.
“Are you doing okay? You were kind of MIA this weekend.” Ah. Dream sets the coffee down, letting his hands hang limply in his lap.
“Yeah, I’m alright. Just had a.. Weird weekend. Mind stuff.” Dream taps the side of his head for effect, and George nods.
“I get that. Anything I can help with?”
Dream pauses. He wants nothing more than to gather George close, let brunette curls brush against his cheek, run thin fingers through thick waves and tug out any cumbersome knots the other couldn’t brush out. Dream would give anything on earth to have George a millimeter closer to him, if only to feel the brush of his skin and the chill it brought.
“Nah.” Dream shakes his head, and adopts a smile. “Just some stuff I gotta work through on my own.” George nods, as though he understands, and smiles at him. Then he leans forward, and slides a hand gently on his shoulder. It feels like ice, chilling him down to his core. It’s all he can do not to shudder at its frigidness.
“I’m here if you need me. And I’m sure you’ve got other, much smarter people than me, but I’m still here.” Dream scoffs, brushing his hand off his shoulder with a laugh before frost builds on his dress shirt and he could leave his imprint behind.
“Yeah, yeah. You might be on my list, somewhere down there.” George laughs, and his eyes scrunch up briefly in that way they do, and Dream's smile grows more fond.
Yeah, he could do this.
“Hey, I got one more question.” Dream blinks, tilting his head to let him know he had his attention. George shifts, fingers tracing the edge of his cup.
“There’s a meeting I have to attend, out of state. Down in Florida. And.. I was wondering if you’d wanna come with me. I know you said once you were from there, and I’ve never been there, and.. yeah. I’d like to have you with me.”
Dream feels lightheaded. If he could fall for this man any more, he just has. Dream smiles past the rot in his chest, and nods.
“I’d love that man! Are we flying; how much are tickets?” George only shakes his head, smiling wider now.
“No, don’t worry about anything. I’ve got it all. I’ll get us a nice hotel.” Dream furrows his brow, but George is continuing before he can argue. “Stop that, don’t give me that face. Save your money- there’s no one else I’d rather have come with me, anyway.”
Dreams heart aches .
But he keeps his smile, and nods diligently.
“Sounds like a date.”