Chapter Text
It was a new beginning for Dream.
It all started when his family decided to transfer him to another school. The new school he was supposed to attend to was closer to their house, it's not like he's not familiar with the place where said school was located, and he could still be in contact with his friends every once in a while, so Dream was convinced it was fine.
Entering school grounds with his chin up, confident but not looking unfriendly, people turn their heads to the new face in their school.
His first day was going rather great. Some people approached him and he made friends. Girls try to casually ask him out but he politely declines their offers, he wasn't really looking for /that/.
Sitting alone in the cafeteria, eating his lunch in peace, a boy he recognizes as one of the new people he made friends with, namely Eric, accompanied by some other people who Dream recognized and some he didn't, sat with him.
“Yo, Dream, you up going out with the gang tomorrow?” Eric asked, putting an arm on Dream's shoulder. “Yeah, sure. Just message me the time and place or something.”
He was about to eat a spoonful of his lunch when Eric stopped his hand. He looked at him confusedly and the other gave him a crooked grin. “Would you like to be a part of our friend group?” Dream's brows furrowed at that. Why did it feel like they're asking him if he wanted to join their cult?
“What? Aren't I already friends with you guys?”
“Nah. Not officially, at the very least.” What are these people, 1st graders? He almost rolled his eyes when the others nodded, agreeing with Eric.
“So... Let's make a bet.” someone says. “There's this dude who we often include, but he's really boring. Dude has an epic fort thing and wouldn't let us in there. If you can befriend him and convince him to let us hang out in his treehouse, we'll let you in as our friend.” Dream suppresses a groan. So much fucking work, he thinks.
He was about to refuse when, “Will you do it? Or are you a pussy?” one of the boys says. Dream's eyes darken.
There were countless tall, huge things such as skyscrapers, the Eiffel tower, Mount Everest, one of them was Dream's pride, and he'd never let anyone step on it.
He scoffs, “Bring it on, then.”
---
He meets the boy he was supposed to befriend, or maybe that wasn't very accurate. Deceive? Use, perhaps?
What he didn't expect was the guy to be a short, pale brunet with chocolate brown eyes.
They were introduced to each other, also shaking hands, and Dream couldn't help but smile a bit at the size difference in both their heights and their hands.
Heading towards the nearest park, he finds himself looking at George as he tries to talk to Mike, feeling bad for the brunet when he goes ignored.
He observed how his shoulders dropped in disappointment. Dream stares at the back of his head.
Remembering how he's supposed to befriend him, he decides to start a conversation. “So, George, what stuff do you like doing?”
The brunet turns his head to look at him, seemingly surprised of being talked to. He clears his throat before replying, “I enjoy gaming, I guess.” he says, shrugging.
The blond grinned, asking about more things. Eventually finding out that they had a lot in common. He was quite surprised he got along well with George, with the way his ‘friends’ described him, he thought he'd be unbearable and boring.
But as they quickly warmed up to each other, already joking and having playful banters, Dream was sure that George was the complete opposite of boring.
---
Days passed, along with it was the growth of Dream and George's friendship.
“Dream!”
“George!” they say each other's name as if they weren't together the day before. And the day before that.
“You up for minecraft later?” Dream asks once George stood in front of him, grinning.
He nods, his hair bouncing at the action. Dream's hand twitches as he feels an urge, a want to ruffle the brown locks. He was convinced it would be fluffy.
George's eyes glint with playful mischief, “Duh, of course, who else would be there to help you,” he clears his throat and Dream rolls his eyes fondly. “carry you, rather, to beat the game?”
He scoffs. “Yeah, yeah. As if you don't scream my name just by losing a heart or two.” he waves a hand dismissively.
George glares at him, as if Dream wasn't looking down at him due to their height difference. This time he couldn't stop himself from ruffling the brunet's hair, his heart warming as the scowl turned into a pout.
---
The guilt was eating at him.
At first it was bearable, he could easily brush it off. But as time passed by, and as he spent more time with George, witnessing how much of an angel he was, the pit of guilt in his stomach grew and grew.
Especially right now, when George called him at 2 AM, sounding so vulnerable, crying.
“George?” he calls his name once he hit the accept button, voice low as he had just awoken.
“D-Dream.” he sits up hearing George, his voice weak and small. Concern floods Dream, waking him and immediately taking the drowsiness away. He hears sniffles from across the line, only making him panic more. Is he crying? “George, are you okay? What happened? Are you safe?” questions came stumbling out his mouth, heart racing as fear courses through him. Fear of George being hurt.
“N-No. It's just…” George was sobbing. And it made Dream's heart ache for some reason. “It's my parents…” Dream pressed his lips together, eyebrows knitting in concern.
“I— At first, I thought…” he took a deep breath, seemingly trying to calm himself down. “It wasn't going to be a b-big deal. I knew once they found out… they'd ground me or even fucking disown me.”
“George…”
“But Dream it— it was just a fucking B on a test!” the frustration was evident in his voice. “It was even a B+! B-But I knew they'd make it into a big deal. I…” Dream hummed to let him know he's listening.
“I thought I could handle it,” it was almost a whisper.
“And—and it was all piling up, so I couldn't. I'm so tired of all the expectations.” A pause as he sniffs. “I'm so tired of feeling like a complete failure.” and he was sobbing again. Dream wants to run to his side, hug him, comfort him, and tell him how amazing he was.
He understands, George was always in a tight spot. He saw how the people around him pressured him. It was admirable, how he stood strong. There were times which he wondered when he would break, but now here he was, finally reaching the breaking point.
“George, it's alright. I'm here.” he wanted to comfort the brunet, he really did. It truly made his heart hurt to hear him crying like this, but the words felt bitter in his mouth. Along with it was the guilt in his stomach, an ugly feeling for ugly intentions of an ulterior motive.
He heard defeat in George's voice as it cracked, seeping with exhaustion and hurt. Only stirring the guilt in his stomach. George called him for comfort, George called him, crying and oh, so broken, because he trusted him.
Gritting his teeth, his hand balls into a fist, nails digging so hard it almost draws blood. Hatred for himself was blooming. Would George be as hurt as he was right now when he finds out about their bet?
No, he'd be thrice as hurt.
“I don't think you're a failure.” he whispers, it was the truth. He admired George. He thinks George was perfect for who he is.
“You’re only saying that to comfort me.”
“No, I mean it. You're perfect, George. I don't understand how they don't see that. Why can't they see you're doing your fucking best?”
“Dream—”
“Are they blind? Damn them and their expectations.”
“Dream, I—”
“Believe me. You’re doing amazing, baby.” his eyes instantly widens as the pet name slips. But as frustration and fury fills him, he didn't have it in him to take it back nor regret it. He meant everything he said, even if the guilt of what was left unsaid haunted him.
George went silent and he almost thought he had ended the call when, “Do you really mean that?” it was hushed, weak, and it made Dream's heart melt.
“Damn right, I do.” he answers, firm, certain.
Late into the night, they continue talking. Finding comfort in each other, serious and down topics turns light-hearted with jokes and flirtatious remarks.
But once George thanked him before saying he was going back to sleep, promptly ending the call, Dream's smile turns into a frown. His light heart that was previously fluttering grew heavy. He wanted to throw his phone into the wall. He was disgusted. Not at George, he could never, but instead at himself.
He absolutely loathed himself for comforting and talking to George as if he wasn't using him. Why was he so hesitant in just telling him the truth? Were their friends really that worth? Were his pride worth more than his friendship with George?
He was conflicted, he didn't want to think about it. So, he settled for something, a brash, reckless thought that caused him his everything:
What George doesn't know won't hurt him.
---
It was only a matter of time before the downfall.
Dream had almost forgotten about the bet. Almost. It had been months since he met George. And though he was still conflicted, he knew well how he absolutely adored the brunet. How he stares at him fondly, thinking how pretty the other was.
Dream wanted nothing but to see George happy, still keeping in mind that something he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Their friendship wasn't a lie, Dream's feelings weren't, let alone the time spent with each other wasn't forced. And so Dream continues to convince himself.
He finds George after school, dragging him to an ice cream parlor and paying for both of their ice creams.
He did it because he enjoyed spending time with George, he wanted to spend every minute with him. George's warm smiles and laughter never failing to make his heart swell. He couldn't get enough of him, as though he were addicted.
Hues of orange, red, and yellow painted the skies as the sun slowly set. Wind slightly whistles as the night neared. The moon peeking, ready to rise and replace the sun. George bids Dream goodbye, waving from the window of the treehouse, smile ever so sweet.
Dream couldn't stop the fond smile from spreading on his face as he waved back, George's smile was contagious. Or perhaps Dream was just whipped? We'll never know. (It's actually the latter.)
Walking with his friends on the way home, just a few steps away from George's house, he finds himself missing the brunet already. But it was getting late, and he supposed they'd text later anyway, so it was probably fine.
Unfortunately for him, on the way home, his friends just had to bring up the topic.
He frowns when one of his friends says, “Dude, Dream, you did really good in that bet, huh?” his jaw tightens and he gives it his all to suppress a scowl. He didn't want to talk about this.
“The one where we said you could only officially be part of the group if you could convince George to let us hang out in that treehouse of his.” hearing the whole thing from someone else's mouth makes the guilt ignite. Though ignite was probably an understatement. It made the small, nearly put out flame of guilt, spread like wildfire.
It instantly burned in Dream's body, so, so nearing the unbearable. But he had to take pride in what he did— at the very least he thinks he had to, even if what he did wasn't anything to be proud of.
He just had to put on the 'confident and cool' act, didn't he?
“Of course, I did.” the words tasted the same, bitter. He scoffs. “I had to endure being with that loser and listen to him rambling, but I still did it.” he was clenching his fist. He clearly didn't mean what he was saying. So why did he keep going? What was it worth?
“It was pretty hard to act like I actually cared though.” Lies, lies. I do care, I care for him so much.
“Yeah, that dude was a good for nothing. The only good thing about him was he had that treehouse where it's nice to hang out. And he wouldn't even let us in there. What a complete trash for a friend.” He wanted to punch the person who said that. He eyes the person who spoke, anger sparking. How dare he talk shit about George? But then again, wasn't Dream also talking shit about George?
Hums of agreement was heard, some nodding, and Dream despised himself for agreeing along with them. How could he?
“Dream.” to his horror, a familiar voice called from behind. It wasn't the voice he was used to. It was nothing like the voice he usually heard, fond, laced with sweets.
Dream turned around, freezing in place, eyes widening in surprise seeing George. His eyes were glassy and Dream could see the tears forming on its corners. In a flash, he was filled with regret, guilt, and most of all, concern for his best friend.
“You left your phone.” George says, barely making eye contact. His hands were shaking as he handed Dream his phone, voice so weak. Dream was hesitant in taking it, he wanted to embrace George, bury the brunet's head in his chest as he whispers words of comfort and apologies to him.
His hand twitches, aching to reach for the other. “George.” He says his name, full of concern.
He was about to reach out for George but perhaps George had enough, as he took a step away. He couldn't fight the hurt to show on his face as George steps away from him. But could he blame him? He cannot.
His heart aches, and aches, and aches. He aches for George. Especially when George tosses him a betrayed look, speaking so much, before turning to leave. He realized how much he had screwed up.
“What was that about?” a hand was placed on his shoulder and Dream was on the very edge.
“Guess we won't be hanging out his house anymore, huh?”
Dream clenches his jaw before continuing walking towards home. “What's wrong, bro?” Oh, for fuck's sake.
He stops in his tracks, facing Eric. Fucking Eric and his stupid ass face. “Everything's wrong. You guys are twisted.” he snaps, voice laced with venom, all pent up anger reaching the surface. “And I can't believe I agreed to that bullshit of a bet, let alone join and become friends with you guys.” they were clearly taken aback by his words, but more by the amount of disgust and contempt lacing his voice.
“This wasn't worth anything. Never go near me ever again, and I won't bother you and your oh, so fucking great friend group.” was the last thing he said before leaving the group speechless and perhaps even terrified.
He locks himself in his room, letting dread, regret, and frustration fill him. He was so selfish, never even thought of George's feelings, how he'd be so hurt once he found out.
He has grown so afraid that he'll lose what he owns. But what did he own? Pride? Honor? What is there to lose other than his lies and deception?
Fully aware of what could happen, he still didn't make an effort to even choose which weighs more to him, his ‘friends’ or George. Instead he chose to be greedy, expecting everything to go his way. He knew it would all lead to this, to him hurting, losing George.
What he was unaware of, was that what he should've been defending, was all he wanted. But now the damage was done, and just as he realizes what he had found, he had already lost his everything.
---
He thinks of George. George, George, George. Everything reminds him of George now.
He thinks of George when he lended him his hoodie, his favorite hoodie to be exact. He remembers how adorable the brunet looked in it, as it was too big for him. It made Dream swell with pride as he walked around wearing it. It made him feel like George was his.
He thinks of George whenever he plays minecraft. He thinks of the way he screeches at the top of his lungs even when they were playing in the middle of the night. He thinks of him screaming his name instead of ‘help’.
He thinks of him and his beloved treehouse. Oh, how he loved that place so much. Dream's hatred for himself only grows stronger as he realizes that George must not find peace in his treehouse anymore, as it was filled with memories with Dream. Dream who hurt and used him.
The longing for the brunet grew even stronger, accompanied by guilt and regret. All of it was flooding, and Dream was drowning in it. He had no choice but to drown in it.
So he drowns, sinking deep in the pit created by his own selfish actions.
---
“You did what?” he winced at the volume Sapnap talked.
Sighing, he says, “I agreed on a bet, but ended up getting attached, George was just so kind and fun to be with, and—”
“I get that part, you agreed on a dumb bet and ended up finding your soulmate, even falling in love with him.”
Dream stutters, “W-What? I'm not— I don't—”
“Shut up, Dream, you dumb fuck. You're in love with him, no room for arguments.” he could hear the eye roll in Sapnap's voice.
A few days had passed since that incident and Dream finally, finally realized he needed to get it together. It was days of barely eating, only staying in his room, reflecting on what he had done as well as loathe himself endlessly.
After days of only him and his thoughts, he realizes he couldn't just do nothing. Not when it caused him George.
He couldn't lose George. He just couldn't. So he wanted to fix what he had broken.
Now he called Sapnap, his best friend since he was 10, talking into the night as people slept, telling him what had happened since he transferred to another school. Sure, Sapnap always acted goofy and chaotic, but he was a really good friend and he always knew what to say.
“You could've told him, Dream! You could've told him back then and he would've forgiven you!” Right now, though, as much as it kind of hurt, Dream knew he was right.
“You broke his trust, Dream!” I know.
“I— I don't know what to say. I can't believe you were such a dick.” Dream couldn't do anything but duck his head in shame.
“You fucked up, big time.”
Silence.
Dream decides to talk. “That's— I… I regret what I did,” he takes a breath. “I realized that what only matters for me was George. I don't want any of those friends, I only want George.” he says, voice shaky.
A pause. Sapnap sighs, “Glad to know your brain is still working.” he says sarcastically.
“Sap,” Dream calls. Sapnap hums in acknowledgement, still upset judging from his tone. “I don't want to lose George. I want to fix what I've done, even if it kills me.”
He hears him scoff, “You better make it up to him. Like you said, dude's been through a lot. Apologize but give him some time. I think you have a chance of being forgiven, just make sure you deserve the forgiveness.”
A faint smile forms on his lips. He'll go through hell and back if that's what it takes for George to forgive him. “I will. Thanks, Sap. You always know what to say. You're like my mom.”
“I’m disowning you, then. I didn't give birth to a cocky asshole.” says Sapnap, though it held no real malice.
He wheezes, before smiling genuinely. “But seriously, thank you. I really needed to get my shit together.”
“Of course, dude. We're like brothers, ya know? You can always talk to me.” Dream hums in acknowledgement, a small smile ghosting his lips. He was glad to have Sapnap.
“Oh, and Dream?”
“Yeah?”
“Think about things instead of just brushing it off, or at least fucking talk to me when you're dealing with stuff like that.”
He absentmindedly puts a hand on the back of his neck as he chuckles. “I'll keep that in mind.”
“Good,” he hears Sapnap yawn. “Now go to sleep and I will too. I got early morning classes tomorrow and someone just had to call and talk about how he wants the love of his life back at 1 AM.”
Dream lets out a wheeze, “I wonder who that person is.”
They exchange goodbyes and end the call. As moonlight enters a gap in his window curtains, Dream finds himself with a small smile while he burns with new found determination.
He was determined to make things right.
---
Turns out, it wasn't as easy as he thought. He expected approaching George to talk without fumbling with his words, but what happened was worse. He instead found himself unable to even get out a single word. It was as if he had his tongue cut whenever he's about to talk to George.
What made it a lot more difficult was how George avoided him like the plague. He rarely sees the brunet. He thought he had the advantage since he was tall, therefore even in crowds he could easily see George. But he was wrong, George had the advantage, he could easily see Dream from afar, sticking out like a sore thumb with his height, and immediately dash away.
Hoping him practicing in front of the mirror pays off, he approaches George who was eating alone in the cafeteria.
Seeing him, George quickly packs his lunch, though it was clear it was only half eaten. Dream sighs. George was already standing up to leave once he got close.
“George.” he grabs the brunet's wrist, grip not too tight as if handling something fragile. He always had treated George with the utmost care. Well, maybe not always, but that was just one time, okay?
“Let's talk, please?” he asks with pleading eyes.
George scowls at him. “There is nothing to talk about.” he looks at Dream's hand on his wrist.
Dream lets go, and in a flash, George was gone and Dream stands there, defeated.
---
George wasn't doing so well.
Ever since he found out Dream used him, he had been sleeping most of the time. He was sleeping more often than he was awake. It wasn't exactly healthy. It made his body stiff, and he always lacked energy.
But in a way, sleeping helped him. Through sleeping, he could escape, both his thoughts and the reality.
When he was awake, his mind was flooding with questions he had to cover his ears, though the voices asking whys didn't go away. When he was awake, he often debated whether everything was his fault. When he was awake, he often asked, Was I not enough?
It was horrible, so he slept and slept, and the pain was gone, at least temporarily.
He avoided the people he used to call his friends. He avoided Dream.
Once he sees him, he quickly leaves, trying to get as far as possible. He couldn't face the blond, not when he was the reason George was in such pain. Not when he made George fall for his charm and thoughtfulness, only to use him in the end. Not when George knew well he still had feelings for him.
Despite his anger towards the blond, he thinks his feelings won't go away /that/ easily.
As chattering and laughter of other students echo through the walls of the school cafeteria, George sat alone on one of the tables, eating his lunch in peace.
He knew that the peace wouldn't last longer once he spots a familiar blond walking in the direction of the table he occupied. His heart races at the sight of him, it always did. But now it was accompanied by aching.
He nearly drops his utensils in panic as he packs his lunch, still unfinished. He feels as if his heart would burst in his chest by the way it beats ridiculously fast, feeling Dream's presence closer and closer.
Standing up and ready to dash to the exit, Dream calls his name, tan hand grabbing pale wrist so delicately. “George.” he freezes for a second hearing the familiar soft voice.
He bites the inside of his cheek before looking at the blond. “Let's talk, please?” Dream was pleading, and George was surprised.
He chooses to be stubborn. Dream didn't deserve his forgiveness. Not when he used him.
“There is nothing to talk about.” he responds curtly. He glances at the grip on his wrist, almost glaring.
Dream lets go of his wrist and he immediately walks away. He grits his teeth, after all Dream had done to him, why did he still feel regret leaving him?
He's angry at him, really. But he can't bring himself to hate him. He was in love with him, after all.
---
It became something similar to a routine. Dream would try to talk to George, but always ended up getting shut out.
“George.” I don't wanna hear it.
“Can we talk?” Dream's voice was so gentle, so soft. It made George weak.
“I already said it so many times,” his eyebrows knit together. “There's nothing to talk about.” he says coldly before slamming his locker shut. Dream winced at the sound. He doesn't spare the blond a glance, already walking through the hall.
“Come on, George. I'm really sorry.” of course Dream follows him.
George scoffs. “Of course you are.”
“I am! Please let me make it up to you.”
George clenches his jaw. “How do I know you're not lying again? Stop it, Clay. I'm done with all your lies.” he snaps, glaring at the blond as his words dripped with anger, and mostly, hurt.
He turns on his heel and heads to his next class, ignoring Dream's calls of his name.
George was convinced that after a few tries to talk, Dream would give up, instead getting mad at George for not listening to what he had to say. That was what he had expected, and it would be easy for him to cut off the blond in his life when that happens, as it was proof that he didn't regret what he had done much. Perhaps only apologizing to relieve his guilt.
But it had already been two weeks since Dream started trying to talk to him. It was the third time this week, and it was only Wednesday.
Why does he keep trying?, George wonders.
Wasn't he supposed to give up by now? He uses him and now he wants to apologize? He wonders why his forgiveness mattered so much for Dream. Wasn't he just some boring disposable friend for him?
Students fill the classroom as class eventually starts, and though he was confused at the way Dream acted, he pays attention, instead pouring all the emotions filling him into concentration for the discussion.
---
When George got home from school that day, he receives a text from a close cousin of his. It's Aerie's birthday, she's throwing a party at home, you coming?, it read.
Aerie was also George's cousin, she was two years older than George, and was already in college. He thinks for a moment, contemplating whether to go. Parties weren't really his thing. He rarely ever went to them, always feeling uneasy in crowded places.
I'm not sure... he texts back, going to his bed and laying on his stomach, phone still in hand.
There are donuts, an immediate response. He chews on his lips. Damn it, he knows my weakness. Attending his cousin's birthday party wouldn't hurt, right? A sigh leaves his lips as he types out a text saying he'll come. He buries his face on the soft pillows of his bed, groaning, maybe a little too loud as he almost gets embarrassed at himself. George ended up going to the party. He figures it was a good opportunity to escape his thoughts and stop moping in his room for a change.
He wasn't thinking of Dream anymore.
He wasn't thinking of Dream and his pleading eyes earlier that day when he asked George to listen to what he had to say. He wasn't thinking of the way Dream's broad shoulders drop whenever he rejected his requests. Let alone the soft tone of his voice he only uses when he was talking to George.
Yeah, he was definitely not thinking of Dream. On the other hand, things were doing okay at the party, to say the least. He had to admit it wasn't exactly fun, though.
He remained glued to a chair in a room that was least crowded and noisy, idly looking around, (though he was already familiar with the place) as he picked on his nails boredly. That was until a dog appears in the room, passing by the loveseat he sat on, not even glancing at him.
George loved dogs as much as he loved cats, he does have both back home. He also considers himself one of the people who fall in love at first sight with dogs.
He whips his head towards his cousin, almost too quick. “What's his name?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow towards the dog.
“Rumble.” his cousin replies, immediately resuming scrolling on his phone.
George grins, almost too wide as he turns his head to where the dog headed.
There was a room just a bit behind the loveseat he sat on, and there sat Rumble, eyeing George with eyes that reminded him of milky coffee.
George's grin grew impossibly bigger. He's so cute, he thinks, having a staring contest with the dog.
“C'mere.” he coos, spreading his arms. Rumble just stared at him, and he almost raises his eyebrows.
“Rumble? Hi!” he tries again, even waving yet still failing miserably as the dog refuses to move an inch from where it sat.
George clicks his tongue, his patience running out, getting replaced by irritation. He loves the dog, so why won't it come to his arms to claim the love?
He sighs, realizing it was too loud and putting a hand over his mouth. Good thing the speakers blasting music was louder, he presses his lips together in relief that no one noticed him.
His cousin asks him to go get food with him, and he does. “You know,” he starts, his cousin handing him a paper plate, raising his eyebrows. “You could've just told me there was a dog and I'd instantly say yes.”
His cousin smirks, “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.” he lightly nudges George's shoulder before going to the table with food.
Once he got back to his seat, he starts eating, a paper plate with food on his lap as he held a cup of soda in one hand. He frowns, watching as Rumble approaches the two boys sitting on a sofa across him. He grits his teeth in jealousy and annoyance, cup of soda threatening to spill as it slightly crumples due to his tightening grip.
And so he eats his food the same way jealousy eats him, watching Rumble being pet and touchy with someone else, right in front of him and his salad.
Stupid dog, won't even let me pet him.
Staring, watching the dog, and sulking the whole night, his mind wanders to what he was desperately trying to forget.
As the dog finally goes to him, his grin falters, noticing that Rumble, the dog's fur, was dancing on the shades of blond, perhaps a dark color of blond, almost brown.
He pats and scratches him, he had been waiting all night. “You're a big guy, huh?” he freezes for a moment before immediately resuming petting the dog.
The dog tilts his head to the side, and George almost faints because of the cuteness of the simple gesture. The way his ears moved edged George more, though.
The joy was short-lived, Rumble leaving the room after a few pets and scratches from George. He sulks once again, he thinks it had been too quick. He wanted to spend more time with the dog, Rumble was the best company in the party.
---
Rumble sat in front of him as he ate a spoonful of ice cream, he smirks. “You like ice cream?”
“Yeah,” George glances at his cousin. “Boy's a lover of cold things. He even loves baths while most dogs don't.”
He looks down at the dog, smiling sweetly as he says cruelly “Didn't you ignore me when I called you multiple times?”
He loved eating ice cream, and he never liked sharing what he loved. But he would've made an exemption if it was a dog. Then again, he doesn't, not when he was ignored for almost the whole night by said dog. Light brown furred dog who reminded him so much of someone, to be exact.
So he ate his ice cream, looking the dog in the eyes mercilessly.
The way he sat in front of George when he was eating, staring expectantly. The way he cocks his head to the side questioningly. Being a literal dog. A big guy. Dark blonde hair.
Did Dream turn into a dog to follow him to this party?
Remember when he said he wasn't thinking of Dream anymore? Yeah, that was a lie.
---
Dream was so, so close to giving up.
He was losing hope. He can't even keep count on how many times his requests to explain was rejected by George. He was hurting so much, each time George walked away, leaving him, he ached.
He was back to blaming himself, he thinks he might as well never be forgiven.
At times like this, it was a relief to have Sapnap. Needless to say, Dream was losing hope, but at least his brain was still working and he listened to Sapnap's advice to call him whenever he needed help.
Dude, I get why you're losing hope, but try again. One last time. Tell him to let you explain and after that, you’ll never bother him again, Sapnap had told him. As much as the part that he’ll never bother George ever again hurt, he knew there was no other way to get the brunet to listen to him.
After Dream explains his side, then what? What if George still finds him unreasonable? What if he still won't forgive him?
Dream missed George so much that it hurt physically. He doesn't know what he’ll do if he ends up not being forgiven. Let alone if George hates him forever.
So he decides, for one last time, he’ll ask to talk. And if George still doesn't take him back, if George still hates him, if George thinks he’s still very much unworthy for forgiveness, then he’ll accept it. As much as it would definitely break him, he would respect George's decision. After all, it was George, he would give him the world if he just asked.
And if that happens, then he’ll leave him alone for good.
---
Three weeks. It had been three weeks since Dream started following George around, asking to talk.
Why is he still going?
He avoided Dream, thinking how he was so blinding to the point he couldn't see that he had other intentions. Knowing well how the sun was beautiful yet could bring you immense pain. He was in love with the literal sun, the sun who left him burning with pain. But he was certainly taken aback when he remembers how you also get vitamins from it.
He had to admit, he was missing Dream like hell. And even if he always ignored and walked away from him, he found little joy that the blond was trying to apologize to him.
Dream brought him so much serotonin just by saying George's name. It was ridiculous, really, how George still refused to let him apologize when he clearly missed the blond.
But he himself was also conflicted. His trust was broken. Do you really expect him to instantly trust Dream again when he hurt so much because of him?
Despite that, he was colorblind, well, that's not the point, the point is that he wasn't blind to not see Dream's efforts. He saw it clear as day, that Dream genuinely wanted to apologize. Though he still had doubt in him. Again, he now has a hard time trusting because of what happened, fear of being used ate at him, and he doesn't want to experience such pain again.
Like they say, it was better to not have friends than have friends that don't care for you, right?
After a lot of thinking, a lot of sleepless nights, a lot of contemplating, rainy nights just staring out the window, watching rain pour, he makes up his mind. He just hopes his decision was the best, that his decision was the right one.
He hadn't seen Dream all day. Not even a glimpse of the familiar dirty blond hair. Maybe he didn't go to school.
So when a familiar voice called him as he exits his last class, he was surprised.
“George.”
He looked at him blankly, “What is it?” Dream looked tired, a lot more tired than usual. He looked pale, in an unhealthy way, and he seemed as if he lacked his usual energy. George felt worry bloom inside of him, but he doesn't show it in his face.
“Please,” his eyes widens at the tone of Dream's voice. It sounded desperate, defeated even. Too much exhaustion evident in just a single word. “Let’s talk.”
George's gaze lingered for a moment. This was good, it was the opportunity to tell Dream what he had decided on.
Parting his lips to say yes, Dream beats him to it.
“I—Let me explain, just this once. And— After, I won't bother you again. Please, just— I have to talk to you.” George's brows furrows. After, he won't bother me again?
A pause. “Alright.” Dream's eyes widens in surprise, before lighting up. He gives George a smile, “Thank you.” George looks away, heart pounding in his chest half because Dream was being adorable, it was unfair, and half because they were finally going to actually talk.
They enter an empty classroom, George takes a seat, crossing his legs as he tossed an expectant look in Dream's direction. Dream looked nervous, he was fiddling with his fingers and kept on glancing at random things in the classroom.
After a bit of awkward silence, the blond sighs, walking and stopping at a row. He leans on one of the chairs just a little bit away from where George sat, putting a hand on its desk to support him.
He then looks up at George, brown eyes meeting the oh, so familiar green. George loved those eyes, even if he can't see its real color.
Dream sighs, “First of all, I'm sorry. I've been a selfish asshole—”
“Glad to know you're aware.” George interrupts, sarcasm dripping in his words.
“George, please let me talk.” He scoffs, but doesn't say a word.
“I… wasn't supposed to agree to that dumb bet.” he takes a breath. “But I did, it's—it's dumb, it was probably because I didn't want my ego to be stepped on. But when I met you, I thought you were nothing like what they said. You—You weren't boring, George.”
He glances at George, and their eyes meet again. Dream looks away quickly, though.
“You were fun to be with, you bring out the better in me. And please believe me when I say that I didn't lie. The time I spent with you really made me happy and it wasn't forced. I liked your company—no, I loved it.”
George's eyes wander to find something to grip. Mixed, different emotions flood him the more Dream talked. He has no clue if they were good emotions.
“Like when on the same day you found out, I dragged you to an ice cream parlor, right? That wasn't for the bet or some shit, I genuinely wanted to spend time with you.”
He grips at the hem of his shirt, looking down and pressing his lips together. He actually wanted to spend time with me?
“It made me angry, the way they talked behind your back. But I hated myself more when I kept quiet when they did.” His heart felt like it was being pricked by needles at the thought of Dream hating himself.
“I was an idiot, I knew you'd be hurt but I still didn't tell you. But—but when you found out, and I saw how hurt you were, I knew I fucked up.” Regret. Regret was evident in the way he spoke. It made George bite the inside of his cheek.
“I snapped at those we called our friends, I was done with their bullshit. And when I got the time to think, I realized that…” Dream gulps, he was gripping the side of the desk now, knuckles turning white at the tight grip. As if he was suddenly weak on his knees, needing something to hold on to prevent collapsing.
“I realized that I didn't give a shit about being friends with them, not when…” he glances at George, voice growing weak. “Not when they're not you.”
George could hear his heart pounding loud in his chest. Yet, he doesn't dare to look at Dream. This isn't fair.
“I got angry with myself. How could I hurt you? And, and, I realized that—that you were all I wanted.” George bites his lips, he wants to cry.
“You're my best friend, George. When we stopped talking it felt like I was missing something. And it hurt so much when you ignored me.” George's head was spinning, suddenly feeling unwell.
He had been searching for any signs of hatred, trying to detect lies ever since Dream started talking, but only found genuineness and honesty. It made his heart swell, at the same time it continues to ache.
“I know I can't take back the pain you had to go through, I'm really, really sorry. I—I understand if you still don't forgive me, and,” he pauses, as if hesitating. “If you want me to leave you alone, I will.” his voice cracks, and so does George's heart.
Silence fills the classroom. Only the loud beating of his heart was what George heard. Neither of them say anything for a while, both avoiding each other's gaze.
Dream was the one to break the silence, as always.
“But please, George, I can't lose you.” Sniff. George snaps his head up, lips parting and heart hurting at the sight of Dream crying.
He straightens in his seat, wide-eyed with concern. He never saw Dream cry. Hell, he never even saw him being down or at least upset.
Concerned chocolate brown eyes once again meets glassy, broken green ones. This time, neither of them looks away, and it felt like they were the only two people in the world.
“I missed you so much that it hurt.” It was almost a whisper, but George heard it.
It was the last straw. George's heart that was pricked with needles, cracks, aches, and finally crumbles. If that still wasn't enough to describe what he felt, as his heart crumbled, it hits the ground, shattering into little pieces.
“Dream.” his voice was weak as well, looking at the blond with softened eyes. Finally dropping the cold, upset facade. Finally showing that he cared all along.
He stands up, walking towards the blond without breaking eye contact. Dream remained silent, staring down at George who stops in front of him.
“Stop crying, you big baby.” he says, tiptoeing to cup the blond's face, wiping the tears on his cheeks with his thumb.
Dream leans in at his touch, tired eyes looking straight at George. “I forgive you.” Dream takes the other hand cupping his face, putting it down as he looks seriously at George.
It was what he decided on, after thinking and contemplating for so long. He knows for a fact that he missed Dream as much as the blond did with him. He'd be damned if the blond were to really leave him.
“You do?” George flattens his footing on the ground, “Yes. How can I not when you're crying and all that?” he jokes.
Dream ignores the jab, “Really?” he asks, brushing a stray bang on George's forehead using his knuckles.
George nods, trying not to blush at the gesture, “But, don't expect me to trust again so easily. And you,” he points a finger at Dream, jabbing at his chest.
“Still have to make it up to me and earn my trust again.” the taller just stares at him blankly. He raises an eyebrow.
Dream grins and the next thing George knew, he was already getting crushed in a bear hug. Dream was hugging him so tight, as though he never wants to let go. George hugs back, putting a hand on the blond's back.
“I'm fine with that.” George could hear the big smile on Dream's face. He rolls his eyes fondly. I missed him. I missed this.
“Dream. Let me go now, you're crushing me.” Dream hugs him impossibly tighter, teasing him. George makes a noise in protest, and Dream lets him go, laughing his signature wheeze.
They look at each other for a moment, smiling like the idiots they were before George rolls his eyes again. It was sure to get stuck on the back of his skull these days.
“Let's go, you still have to make it up to me. And you'll start by buying me my beloved coffee.” He says, grabbing Dream's hand and dragging him outside the classroom.
“If you wanted to hold my hand, you could've just asked, Georgie.” Dream teases, squeezing George's hand.
George scoffs, though he was clearly blushing. “Hah. You wish.” He says, despite that, he didn't let go of Dream's hand, and Dream doesn't let go of his, too.
Dream laughs, making George grin. He can't explain how happy he was at the moment. Perhaps it was something similar to seeing colors when you had been colorblind all your life. But in his case, he doesn't really care if he can't see colors, for Dream already colored the boring life he had.
He's more than content with that.
---
On a fine afternoon, a peaceful, comfortable silence envelops the school library. Students focus on their laptops with thick books stacked upon even thicker books on their tables. Some chatting, probably talking about the latest gossip, though not too loud, just the perfect amount of volume.
On one of the tables, Dream and George sat across each other, exchanging banters as they worked on schoolwork. Finding a way to tease the other, they struggle to keep it down, boisterous laughter threatening to escape their throats, surely causing them to be kicked out.
“You're insufferable. I'm going to fly to another country and change my name, start a new life and forget about you.” George says flatly after Dream makes another pun. Dream laughs, sounding like a tea kettle.
“No, you won't. Maybe in your dreams, though.” he says with a shit-eating grin, wiggling his eyebrows. George groans, only making Dream laugh more. He found amusement in the brunet, and George should've known better that he only fueled Dream even more whenever he expressed his irritation.
“Okay, shut up, Dream. I'm working on a super serious reaction paper.” the brunet says, squinting his eyes and holding the sides of a paper. Dream would've believed it was a ‘super serious reaction paper’ only if he hadn't gotten a glimpse of the empty, clean sheet of paper, not even a single word written since they arrived at the library.
Smirking, he opens his mouth to make fun of his best friend's non-existent progress, but was interrupted.
“Hey,” They both turn their heads when some dude approaches their table. He stops in front of them, gaze flickering to Dream before settling on George. “George, right?”
Dream whips his head to George, raising an eyebrow in a nonverbal question. George doesn't look at him. “Do I, um, know you?” he asks, slightly tilting his head to the side. Dream almost passes out in his seat. So damn cute.
“Oh, no, not really.” the man shakes his head. “I just, I was at Aerie's birthday party a few months ago and you caught my eye. So I asked a friend to ask who you were.”
George seemed like he didn't know what to do, so he smiled awkwardly. “Oh, yeah, so, what can I do for you?”
The stranger smiles back, “Can I maybe get your number?” How bold of him. Dream clenches his fist, an ugly feeling brewing in his stomach.
George's eyes widen in surprise, clearly not expecting the man to say that. “I— I’m sorry, I’m not interested.” he rejects the man, sounding uncertain, uncomfortable. It looked like he didn't even know the guy. Dream presses his lips together.
“You aren't?” he scoffs in disbelief. “Weren't you checking me out the whole night?” Dream grits his teeth, feeling annoyed. This guy was certainly full of himself, alright.
George looks confused, “I wasn't.”
“You were staring at me, dude. Right when I was petting the dog. And that was like, every 5 minutes of the party!” the stranger insisted, voice rising, acting as if he was wronged.
“I was staring at the dog, not you!” He notices George's tight grip on his pen. Dream glares at the stranger.
“Wow, what a creative excuse. Are you seriously playing hard to get when I’m bothering to give you a chance?” Dream puts a hand on the table, a little too hard as it produces a noise. Pushing himself up using his hand, he stands to his full height, turning towards the man.
“He said he wasn't interested. Now get lost.” he growled, towering over the man who swallowed nervously. The stranger was average height, but he looked tiny beside Dream. The man gives George one last glare before heading to leave.
Dream returns to his seat, brows knit together, a scowl on his face. “Dream?”
He lifts his gaze, eyes instantly softening at the sight of George. “Thank you, I didn't know what he was on about.” says George, smiling apologetically.
Dream sighs, leaning in to ruffle his fluffy brown hair. “It’s nothing. That guy was a creep. What did he say? He met you a few months ago?” he scoffs. “And now he even knows you go to this school, let alone you're at the library right now? What a fucking stalker.”
George pouts, looking at Dream with a glint of unease in his eyes, “Do you think he’ll come back?”
“No, and even if he does, I'm like, with you 90% of the time.” George smiles, and it makes Dream smile.
“Well, you are pretty scary.” George teases. Dream chuckles, rolling his eyes fondly.
“Oh come on, he was getting on my nerves. Imagine assuming someone was checking you out when in reality they were staring at a /dog./” he wheezes.
George laughs, “What? Were you jealous, Dream?”
Dream stops laughing, red coloring his face, “Wha—No! What?”
“You know,” George says shortly after laughing at him. “I was staring at the dog the whole time I was at the party, because it reminded me of you.”
“What? Why?”
“Yes! It had blond hair like yours and it acted like you. I was still angry at you back then and I thought you turned into a dog as a last resort in apologizing to me.” he says, covering his mouth with the back of his hand as he laughed.
George thought of him. He reminded George of things. But wait, what was that?
“You thought I turned into a dog?” Dream asks in disbelief. George nods, still laughing. Dream huffs.
“Well you, reminded me of my cat, Patches, when you kept on being moody and ignoring me.” he says, crossing his arms.
George stops laughing, now looking at him in disbelief. “Are you comparing me to your cat?” Well, yeah, I do love you both. Dream thinks, but doesn't dare voice it out.
“Yeah, you act like you don't care but at the same time you always need attention 24/7.”
“I’m not like that!”
“Are too.”
“I’m not!”
“Are too.”