Work Text:
Dream knew the exact moment he fell in love with George, and he knew the exact moment he knew that George was unattainable. At first, it was the little things, the way that George would beg to watch a movie with Dream, only to fall asleep ten minutes into the movie. It was the way that George preferred apple juice to orange juice and refused to have anything else. It was the way that George collected things, like pretty rocks and knick knacks that he would keep on his desk, and receipts that he’d keep in a journal, too scared to yet stick them in, sealing those memories onto paper forever. It's the way that George preferred night over day, dark over light, the moon over the sun.
It was the way that George instantly knew how to cheer up Dream when he was upset. When Dream would flunk his comparative essay, George calmed him down with soft, featherlight traces in his hair. He would go out of his way to buy Dream vanilla ice cream and banana pudding The way that George brightened his day up after what felt like the worst of days, and would always make his father cook steak for Dream when he slept over.
Yet, it was the moment when George first cried in front of him. Dream had known George since he was four years old, and had never seen him cry until then. Not when he fell and scraped his knees after they went bike-riding, not when his mother left, not when Dream and him fought for the first time. Dream had never seen him cry, he never thought he would.
Dream never found out the reason why. He had asked but George never told him.
It was 3am when he heard the frantic tapping on his window, and he was roused from his sleep, hair tousled and eyes lazy. His eyes had focused on the brunette outside his window, barely registering the wetness on his cheekbones. After turning on his lamp, Dream shuffled over and huffed as he pushed to open the window. “George?” he whispered.
“I’m sorry, can I just…. Can I just stay the night?”
Dream noticed the blood-shot eyes and the tears brimming his eye-line. “George, what happened?”
“Can I stay the night?” George had repeated, eyes flicking away.
Dream had relented. “Of course,” he had said, and held out a hand, which George took as he clambered into Dream’s dimly lit room, illuminated by the soft lamp on his bedside table. Dream offered a change of comfortable clothes, and let George choose the side of his bed he preferred.
After they settled in, Dream stared at the ceiling, wondering what he was doing, questioning what the conflicting feelings in his stomach, head and heart were doing.
“Could I ask you to do another thing for me?” George broke the silence.
Dream hummed in response.
“Can you hold me? Just this once?”
And of course, Dream obliged, his heart and defences melting away. Shuffling, Dream moved onto his side, facing George. And silently, George pressed his back to Dream’s chest, letting the taller’s arms wrap around his waist, hands splaying comfortably against the flat of George’s stomach. Dream held his breath as George’s ankles knocked against his, moving to intertwine their calves together. And after he heard George’s breathing turn even, Dream knew that he could never do this again, never feel this way again, never hold George like this again - because George was unattainable, and George was not his.
George was not his.
And he never would be.
When Dream woke, with George’s head buried into his chest, hands clutching onto Dream’s shirt helplessly, stained tears from the night before trailed on his cheeks, his heart cried. Dream wanted to reach out, to trace his fingers against George’s skin, but he refrained. And when George stirred, Dream pretended to be asleep, opting to forget it ever happened.
Dream had realised he couldn’t have George when he had met him at his locker, excitedly telling Dream about how he was in a “thing” with Nate Anderson, their school's resident bad boy. Dream’s heart fell but he smiled instead. He had to be happy for George. How could he not? George's smile had been so bright.
Currently, George sits in Dream’s room, a Wii controller held horizontal and sturdy in his hands, face screwed in concentration as he and Dream play Mario Kart. He sticks his tongue out in frustration as Dream finishes in first, and he still races, only coming in fifth against the robots.
“God, why are you so good at this stupid game?” George whines, throwing his head back against the edge of Dream’s bed, to which Dream laughs softly.
“I’m good at everything,” he replies confidently, his slight ego swelling.
“I wish I was good at everything,”
Dream looks at George, brow raised. “You are.”
George taps a few times on the controller in thought, chewing on his lip. Dream glances away, starting up the next round. They race in quiet, no friendly jabs or banter, and Dream wins again with George coming in close third. George finally sighs and admits the thing on his mind. “I’m not good at kissing.”
The blonde doesn't take him seriously at first, wheezing. “George, what?”
George flushes red and puts down his controller. “Well, Nate and I aren’t together yet, and we haven’t kissed yet either. Because I’ve never kissed anymore before.”
Dream is surprised at first. He thinks back to that game of truth and dare that he, Sapnap and George played - George had revealed that he had his first kiss at one of Punz's parties. “But I thought-”
“I lied.” George reveals. “Don’t tell Sapnap.”
Dream can’t help but laugh again, standing up to close the curtains, shutting out the rain and the dark. At the same time, although George was attractive as he was, he was shy and nerdy, hard to crack at first. Dream couldn’t be that surprised that he hadn't had the nerve to kiss someone yet. “Why would you lie about that?”
“Why wouldn’t I lie about it, Dream? It’s embarrassing.”
“It’s fine, no one actually cares.”
“Well, how many people have you kissed Dream?”
Dream turns on his lamps, illuminating them in soft light. “Eh, I don’t keep count.”
George gasps, leaping up on his knees and Dream laughs harder at his excitement. “Surely, you know how many. Unless…” George places a hand on his chest. “Dream, are you… a fuckboy?”
Dream giggles and flops back on his bed, cocking his head as he looks back up at his ceiling. “Well, my first kiss, if you could call it that, was with Hayley, it was behind the bleachers of my first basketball game of the season-”
“How romantic ,” George mocks, sitting up cross-legged after he moves onto Dream’s bed. Dream slaps George lightly on his chest with the back of his hand.
“Hey, you can’t talk. Then, Hayley some more, after we won the grand finals. A guy named Tom on a dare, another girl at a party, a cruise ship, a-”
“Okay, okay, that’s enough, I get it. You’ve kissed a lot of people, you… serial kisser.”
Dream moves his hands to rest behind the back of his head. “You’re the one who asked,” he says tauntingly.
“Let’s just watch a movie,” George says.
“Mm, and let you fall asleep before it can even start?”
“Hahah, very funny,” George rolls his eyes, lying back on Dream’s bed again. They fall into comfortable silence as Dream fiddles with the remote, putting on Netflix. He puts on George’s second favourite, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Dream often argues that it's one of the weaker movies, but George simply enjoys it as it is, a wizard tournament with all the drama, and the return of You-Know-Who.
After a while of the movie, Dream cannot help himself. “What are you so afraid of?”
“I don’t wanna be bad.”
“You can only get better with practice,”
George cranes his head to make eye contact with Dream, giving him a look. “I haven’t had practice like you, Dream!”
Dream nudges George with his foot playfully. “Well, you can have all the practice you want with Nate.”
“But, if I’m a bad kisser in the first place, he won't want to be with me,” George complains and Dream falls silent in dumbfound- sometimes there was no helping George. Until… “You should teach me,”
Dream splutters, eyes snapping to George immediately. He looks content. “What?”
George nods, “We’re best friends, so it’ll be fine.”
Unable to stop his heart pounding, Dream pointedly looks away from George, from his lips, and focuses on the TV before him. “I don’t want to take your lip virginity from your actual boyfriend, George.”
“It’s fine , Dream. He hasn’t even asked to be official yet,” George moves closer on the bed towards Dream, and Dream feels as though he is suffocating. “Please, Dream.”
The blonde finally looks back, meeting playful yet pleading puppy eyes. “Are you serious about this? I just don’t want you to… to regret anything.”
George places his hand on top of Dream’s and tilts his head shyly, amber eyes glowing. He says the words that leave Dream’s self-control in tethers. “I’d rather it be you than anyone else.”
Blooming pink petals settle in Dream’s stomach as he swallows carefully. “Okay,” he finally agrees. George lightens up.
“Really?”
Dream tilts his head as if suggesting, do it now before he changes his mind, and George interlaces their fingers, scooting closer so that their shoulders touch. “We don’t tell anyone about this,” Dream says.
“Of course,” George says quietly.
“Not even Sapnap.”
“Not even Sapnap.”
Dream looks at George one final time before everything between them blows into pieces, before placing a steady hand on George’s thigh as he moves forward, pressing his mouth against George’s. Although George was expecting it, he still seemed to be in shock, lifeless against Dream. Dream doesn’t really care too much, more in disbelief that he just kissed his best friend that he’s been in love with forever.. When Dream pulls away, he lets out a light-hearted huff. “You know, it helps when you kiss back.”
George flushes immediately, the red going to his cheek bones and neck, but he flutters his eyes closed, waiting for another kiss. Dream leans forward again, taking George’s lips again. George kisses back this time, a sign of life behind cherry-flavoured and soft lips. George breaks them away this time and Dream almost feels disappointed, but George asks, “Where do I put my hands?” He’s breathless, as if Dream had somehow kissed the life out of him. The tips of his ears are pink as well.
“Wherever feels right in the moment, I guess-” Dream replies before George is swooping back in, hands awkwardly on both of Dream’s shoulders while his arms bend between them. Dream forces himself to keep his hand where it sits on George’s thigh, unmoving, but he kisses George like it’s the only time in the world that he’ll ever get to do it. George presses his mouth harder against Dream, wanting more, and Dream can not relent, he must not, in fear of losing everything. All he gives George is a squeeze on his thigh before pulling away, lips slightly swollen.
“That good?” he asks, voice slightly hoarse. George’s hands fall from Dream’s shoulders as he slumps slightly. He has a distant expression on his face, and nods slowly, looking away shyly.
“What about making out? Like what happens if it...escalates?”
Dream removes his hand and shuffles further up his bed to the pillows, away from George, a calculated decision. He can’t make out with George. “Then you go with the flow, you follow Nate’s lead, I guess. I don’t really think much when I’m kissing, it just happens.”
George looks back at Dream with a glint in his eyes. “Why won’t you kiss me Dream?”
“Because otherwise you’re going to miss all the firsts and excitement with Nate, you shouldn’t have that taken away from you by your best friend,” Dream lies, he so painfully lies. He wants nothing more than to have George all to himself. He sighs, and falls deeper between his pillows.
“I don’t care. About all that shit, that the first time is supposed to be special. Do you?”
“George,” Dream starts.
“Do you?" George repeats, "Your first kiss was Hayley and you barely talk to her now, don’t you? Does it really matter? I’m perfectly happy doing this Dream, I just don’t understand why you’re so worried about me-”
Dream surges forward, taking George’s face in his hands carefully and pulls him down on top of him, pressing lips against lips. George stumbles atop Dream’s torso, but as they kiss, and they kiss, and they kiss, he manoeuvres so that his chest is against Dream’s, a hand cupping Dream’s neck, playing with the tufts of Dream's hair at his nape.
Dream feels like he's died and gone to Heaven and that George is a fallen angel that has blessed him.
Although Dream was supposed to be teaching George, he felt like this was too intimate to just be teaching. Dream still has some sense of self control when he feels George press against him, refusing to escalate this situation even further, no matter how much he wanted to. But for now, he kisses George as if he is his. As if Nate didn’t exist, and that George wanted Dream in the same way Dream wanted him.
George lets out a gasp of surprise as Dream flips them, and George’s hair spreads against Dream’s pillows. He is so flushed and vulnerable beneath Dream, and Dream feels some emotion akin to hunger mixed with desire as George’s hands curl around the back of his neck, pulling Dream’s mouth to him again. Dream hurts, and he hurts so bad with every kiss he exchanges with George, his mouth on fire, and George’s touch stinging and burning him. He swears that George lets out an airy sound when Dream pushes him further into the mattress and Dream forces himself to stop, slowly pulling away from George.
He moves, stops encasing George beneath him, and clears his throat, eyes barely managing to actually focus on the movie blaring. He almost wants to cry. He's going to lose George.
George sits up and fixes his hair. “Thank you, Dream.”
Dream cringes. “Yeah, no problem. I… hope it helped.”
“It did,” George smiles sweetly, and in spur of the moment, presses a quick kiss to Dream’s cheek as if thanking him, before burying himself in Dream’s bed, watching the movie again. He falls asleep in eight minutes.
Dream has never felt more fucked.
The next week, as Dream sorts through the books in his locker, George comes up to him with tears brimming his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Dream asks, closing his locker immediately, but is taken aback as George moves forward to hug him. Dream folds his arms back around George. “George?”
“It didn’t feel right,” George says sadly, and he sounds so small.
‘What didn’t feel right?
“Everything,” George says, and Dream doesn’t know what that means until George elaborates further. “Nate and I kissed, and he asked me to be his boyfriend officially… and I said, I said yes.”
“You said yes?” Dream frowns. He can’t tell if he is happy or sad for George.
George shakes his head. “I didn’t know how to say no. I felt so bad. Like, we’ve been talking for so long-” He steps back from Dream with a small whine. “I just, I don’t understand why it worked with you and not with him.”
Dream goes a bit red, but doesn’t respond to that. “Well, what are you going to do now?”
"Well, as you said before, practice makes perfect. So, I’m just going to kiss Nate until it feels good. It’ll work out, it’ll be fine.” George huffs.
Dream nods and pats George on the back awkwardly, almost feeling like he is losing him by the second. “It’ll be right,” he says quietly. George then goes off to class.
Dream confides in Sapnap during maths, who comes to the stupidest conclusion that Dream had ever heard, and almost made Dream regret asking.
Sapnap taps his pen against his maths textbook. “He likes you back, that’s all.”
Dream shakes his head, “Don’t… don’t say things like that.”
The way that the raven-head looks at at Dream drowns in pity and he hates it. “Okay, Dream,” he says, and they move on.
Over the months, George stays together with Nate. They attend Dream’s basketball games almost mockingly. They go to parties and kiss in front of Dream, and Dream tries his best to be happy. Dream kisses random girls in hope that he could forget about George, and fails. They're never enough. Dream’s eyes glare daggers into his phone when Nate posts a photo of George shirtless in his bed in black and white, with George having the brightest smile on his face, with the caption ‘My boy <3.’ Dream throws his phone across the room.
George tells him that he and Nate are taking a break because Nate said that George spends too much time studying with Dream. Dream doesn’t say anything but is slightly grateful - more time spent with George without the constant reminder that George wasn't his. George and Nate fight a lot, and Dream knows George pretends he’s okay.
George has hickies on his throat.
George has tears in his eyes.
Dream wishes he could do something, but he’s scared. He doesn’t want to lose George.
George breaks up with Nate after finding out that he cheated on him with Hayley, and he goes to Dream’s immediately after. He doesn’t cry, but Dream puts on The Order of the Phoenix, and George doesn't fall asleep for once. Dream gets to hold George again, if only for a moment more.
One night, after the last day of school when George is lying under the stars with Dream in Dream’s backyard, Dream jokingly asks George if Nate ever got better at kissing. George laughs loudly, and tells him no.
“Oh, really?”
“You were better,” George says with a slight laugh.
Dream smiles. “How?”
“Well, you kissed me like I was yours. He just… I don’t know… kissed me,” George shrugs, turning his head to lock eyes with Dream.
“You’re not mine, George.”
George pauses in thought. “Do you wish I was?”
Dream knows the answer, and he replies without hesitation, with a hopeless smile. “Yes. I have always wished that.”
The boys lie in silence beneath the celestial phenomenon above them, a shooting star passing by that they pay no mind to. George sighs happily, and he rolls onto his side. “I am yours, Dream,” he whispers the secret into Dream’s ear. “I have loved you for a long time,”
“And I have loved you for longer,” Dream breathes.
George kisses Dream softly, and Dream holds George, because George is his, and they stay together until they fall asleep beneath the stars.