Archive of Our Own

George’s new next door neighbour was gorgeous.

He’d only caught a few glimpses of the man—him stepping out of his luxurious black Jaguar F-Type, him carrying numerous boxes to and from the moving van, him hurrying a young girl inside their new home so as not to get caught up in the havoc outside. George stood, frozen in his front garden, unabashedly staring at the man who was moving in right next to him.

Immediately, George could tell that the man was incredibly good-looking. Golden hair sat atop a face which looked like it’d been chiselled by the gods, and although George was standing too far away to gage the colour of his eyes or the height of his cheekbones, he could definitely see the man’s smile. Confident, effortless, painfully attractive. Like the smile itself was trying to taunt George, even though the man hadn’t noticed him yet. Lean arms connected to a long torso, with legs looking like they went on for days. He definitely works out, George thought to himself as he ogled his new neighbour, and he wondered how long it would take for the man to spot him.

Apparently, gaining attention from the man was impossible, because George had been standing there for almost five minutes and he still hadn’t sent a single glance George’s way.

Feeling deflated, George huffed. God, was he actually going to have to approach the man himself? Why couldn’t he just stand there and wait for the man to regard him on his own? George would’ve been fine with remaining there until his presence was acknowledged, but with the way things were currently going, and by how annoyingly unobservant the man seemed to be, he’d probably end up standing there the whole day.

So, with a deep breath in and a fast-beating heart, George plucked up the courage to announce himself.

“Hi there!” he called, trying to make his voice sound as casual and friendly as possible. 

The man had a couple of small brown cardboard boxes in his hands, and was halfway between the van and the house when George spoke. He whipped his head around to find the speaker, and after a few seconds, his eyes settled on George. Immediately, he grinned.

“Hey,” the man said brightly, and oh fuck he had an American accent. “I’m guessing that you’re my new neighbour.” God, his accent was so hot.

“I guess so,” George answered, trying (and slightly struggling) to keep his cool. “Are—are you busy?” What a stupid fucking question, he thought to himself, and he groaned at his awkwardness.

Thankfully, the man didn’t seem to notice George’s discomfiture, and even if he did, he chose not to mention it. Instead, he raised up the boxes in his arms. “Fuck yeah I’m busy. I’m up to my neck in all this stuff.” One corner of his mouth turned upwards into a smirk. “It’d be nice if I could get a bit of help.”

George wasn’t about to turn down an offer like that. “Well, luckily for you, my schedule is free for the day.”

The man cocked his head towards the door. “Then what are you waiting for? Come and help me get some of this stuff inside.”

George tried to suppress his smitten smile as he walked over to the van and pulled out a few boxes. Together, the two of them carried the rest of the boxes inside the house, not making much conversation as they worked. The man instructed George to place the boxes on any random piece of floor in the main room of the house, which was an open-plan living room with a large kitchen area, in which a table and chairs and a few sofas had already been placed. 

“That’s the last of them,” the man said, dropping a final box down on the dining table. “Thank you for helping me.”

“You don’t need to thank me, it’s no problem!” George assured him. “You looked really busy; the least I could do was help you out a bit.”

“Well, I still appreciate it,” the man told him kindly. “I don’t know whether you noticed, but no one else came out and offered to help.”

George shrugged his shoulders. “It’s still not a big deal. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Not right now,” the man replied. “I was actually planning on taking a bit of a break. Sit down, maybe have a drink.” He smiled at George. “Wanna join me?”

The request was like music to George’s ears. “Of course!” he said instantly. “That would be lovely.”

“Great,” the man replied, and deposited the boxes on the dining table down onto the floor. “You can sit here, if you want. I don’t have much in the fridge, but I have a couple of pre-packed smoothies if you want one.”

“I’d love one,” George said, and watched as his neighbour walked over to the fridge in the kitchen. When he opened the door, he turned back to George.

“Mango lime, watermelon chia or strawberry goji?” he asked.

“Mango lime please,” George answered politely, and thanked the man when he handed it to him, fully aware of the sparks that shot up his arm when their fingers briefly touched. “Which one did you pick?”

“Watermelon chia,” the man told him. “I’ll leave the strawberry goji for when Maddie comes down again. That one’s her favourite.”

“I think I saw Maddie before,” George said. “Was she that blonde girl?”

The man nodded his head. “Yeah, she is. She’s thirteen, turning fourteen next year. She starts her new school in a couple of days, actually.”

“Wait… she’s thirteen?” George asked, surprised. 

Eyeing him with confusion, the man nodded again, this time slower. “Yes?”

“Okay, I’m really sorry to pry but… you don’t look that old,” George commented.

Immediately the man’s features softened and he laughed. “Thank you for the assumption,” he said sarcastically.

“No, I didn’t mean—I didn’t mean it like that,” George quickly corrected, but the man spoke again before he had time to clarify his words.

“Look, I know what you’re trying to say,” the man assured him. “I look too young to have a thirteen year old daughter, right?”

Copying the man’s earlier actions, George nodded.

“She’s… she’s not my daughter. She’s my older sister’s kid. But she lives with me now.”

George inclined along intently, expecting the man to elaborate his situation, but when he gave no indication that he wanted to continue with the topic, George decided not to push for any more information.

“You know,” he said instead, “it’s funny how I already know her name but you still haven’t told me yours.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Oh my god,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut and smiling embarrassedly. “How stupid of me. I’m so sorry.” He extended out one of his hands, obviously expecting George to shake it. “I’m Dream. It’s nice to meet you…”

“George,” he finished off, closing the gap between their hands. The man’s— Dream’s —grip was strong and firm, although George didn’t know why he expected anything different given how strong and firm they looked . Prominent veins ran from the knuckles all the way down to the wrists, with fingers that were twice the thickness than his. 

“George,” Dream repeated. “That’s a nice name. It suits you.”

“Oh, erm, thank you,” George answered. “And the name ‘Dream’, well, that… sure is interesting .”

Dream laughed at his joke. “Dream isn’t my real name, obviously. It’s just a nickname that everyone I know calls me. My real name is Clay.”

“Well, anyway, it’s nice to meet you Dream,” George said, enjoying the way his neighbour’s name felt rolling off his tongue. Dream. The name had quite a nice ring to it. 

Silence fell over the two of them again. George couldn’t help but gaze longingly at the beautiful man in front of him, finally able to see the gold specks in his viridian eyes. After a few moments of staring, he realised how fucking creepy he must’ve looked, so he coughed behind his hand in an attempt to clear his throat and averted his eyes from his new neighbour. How the hell do I make this seem less awkward? his brain pondered. Immediately, an idea came to mind: ask another question.

“Um, sorry if it seems like I’m prying, but… I’ve been getting the assumption that you’re not originally from around here? Your accent is American, right?”

“No, don’t worry, George, you’re not prying at all,” Dream said whilst shaking his head, and fuck did George love the way his name sounded coming from the blond. “I’m glad that you’re interested. And you were right—I am from America. Florida, specifically. Maddie and I had been staying in a hotel for a few weeks over here, waiting for this house to be ready.”

“And why did you choose to move all the way to England?” George asked.

“Well, the two of us wanted a change of scenery,” Dream told him. “And we wanted to move somewhere that spoke predominantly English, since neither of us can speak any other languages. So, England seemed like the obvious choice to us. Plus, my employer offered me an international position in either England, France or Spain, which was absolutely perfect for me.” Dream smiled over at him. “What about you? How long have you been living here?”

“I’ve lived in London my whole life,” George explained. “I grew up on the outskirts of London, and when I was eighteen I moved into the city so I could live closer to the university I was studying at. I did a computer science degree, so I was there for four years, and when I graduated I moved back out here, into the suburbs. As great as the heart of London is, sometimes it can get a bit overwhelming.”

“I agree,” Dream said. “That’s exactly why I chose somewhere out of the way of all the action. That, and, well, house prices are way cheaper out here.”

George laughed. “Yeah, that’s true. Not much is bad about this place, really. I like it.”

“From what I’ve seen so far, I think I’m gonna like it too.” Dream eyed the smoothie in George’s hand, which the brunet had been continuously sipping throughout their conversation. The bottle was almost empty. “Did you enjoy that?”

“Yes, it was lovely,” George said with a smile.

“Great. I’m glad. I’ll make sure I keep a spare one in the fridge every once in a while, in case you ever come round again.”

Before George had time to think about how adorably caring that statement was, he heard a voice coming from the stairway.

“I picked my bedroom.”

George turned his head and saw the blonde girl, Dream’s niece. She was tall-ish, well, tall for a thirteen year old, and was wearing a bomber, a pair of camo jeans and black combat boots. Her hair was long, coming down almost to her elbows. 

“Which one?” Dream asked her.

“The second biggest one, with the built-in closet and big window.”

“I knew you’d pick that one,” Dream commented. “Do you need help moving your stuff in there?”

“No, I’m good. I’ve already done most of it.” Maddie moved her attention to George. “Who’s this?” she asked.

“Oh, Maddie, this is George,” Dream said. “He’s our new neighbour. He lives in the house next door. George, this is Maddie, my niece.”

George waved at the girl. “Hi Maddie. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, George,” Maddie answered, although her tone was less friendly and more nonchalantly than George’s. He hadn’t had much experience with children as an adult, but he knew that Maddie probably didn’t care much at all for his existence. That didn’t bother him, though; all that mattered to him was Dream’s attention, which apparently wasn’t difficult to attain, since the blond had been constantly focused on him until his niece had turned up. 

“I’m gonna go back upstairs now,” Maddie said. “Shout me if you need anything, Dream.”

“I will,” Dream answered. “Same to you as well.”

Maddie focused on George again. “Bye George,” she said simply, before making her way back up the stairs. 

“She seems cool,” George said to Dream.

“Yeah, she is,” Dream said proudly. “If I ever have kids of my own, I want them to be like her. She’s super smart, you know? Her old school was talking about moving her up a grade before we moved.”

“Really?” George exclaimed. “She must be a prodigy.”

“Oh, totally,” Dream agreed. “Sometimes I’m a little intimidated by how clever she is. I wouldn’t be able to answer a single question on some of her science homework.”

“Well, like I said, I have a computer science degree. I’d be more than happy to help her if she ever needs it.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t bet on it,” Dream said. “Maddie absolutely hates asking for help; she’s obsessed about doing everything herself. Like, I get that it’s good for kids to be independent, but sometimes I feel like she’s trying to be too independent.”

“I don’t really think there’s such a thing as ‘too independent’,” George told the blond. “As long as she knows that you’re there for her then she’ll be fine.”

Dream raised his eyebrows, smirking at George. “How come you’re so wise, ey? Are you some kind of philosopher?”

“Oh, er—no, of course not,” George said with a short laugh, trying to ignore the attractive look Dream was giving him. “I was just, I dunno, giving my opinion? I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t have intruded like that.”

“No, George, it’s okay!” Dream assured him. “It’s fine, I promise. Don’t worry.” After a few moments, the blond continued. “I really hate to cut this short, but I’ve got a lot to do right now. God, I hope I don’t sound dismissive right now. I just know that I won’t be able to give you my full attention when I’m busy sorting out all of this shit.” He gestured to the boxes around them. “Next time I get a free minute, I’ll ask you to come over again and we can have a proper chat. How does that sound?”

George nodded. “That sounds nice. Are you sure you don’t need any more help?”

“No, I’ll be fine, but thank you,” Dream said. “I really appreciate you coming and introducing yourself. I know I already said that before, but I just wanted to say it again.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. I’m glad I came over. I had a good time. You certainly made my morning less boring.”

Dream laughed at his comment. “I’m glad. And to make things easier for us, why don’t you give me your number? That way I can let you know when I’m not busy.”

George’s brain completely short-circuited at that. What? He wants my number? Whilst nodding his head quickly, he stumbled out a comment. “Oh, uh, yeah, yes, that would—that would be a good idea.”

As Dream pulled his phone out of his pocket and typed the numbers George recited to him into a new contact, George couldn’t believe how successful the morning had turned out to be. He didn’t know how long he’d been with Dream before, but in barely any time at all he’d managed to impress his unnaturally hot neighbour enough that he wanted to be able to contact George whenever he wanted. The brunet licked his lips and pulled the bottom one between his teeth as he watched how gracefully Dream’s fingers moved over the screen of the phone, and wondered what it would feel like to have them gliding over his own again.

“Thank you,” Dream said aloud, pulling George out of his head. “I’ll text you when I get a free minute.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” George said earnestly. On a normal day, he wouldn’t allow himself to be this forward, but it made it easier for him to be honest when Dream was doing all the forwardness for him. “Remember, what should you do if you need any help?”

Dream smiled at George’s question, and the brunet swore he saw a slight blush on his cheeks as he did. “I’ll call you.”

“Perfect,” George said with a grin. “Thank you for the nice morning. And the smoothie.”

The pair said their goodbyes, and as George walked the short distance back to his home, couldn’t help but think about how royally fucked he was. 

So, yes, George’s new next door neighbour was gorgeous, which sucked, because George wasn’t sure how he’d be able to spend another minute around him without kissing him senseless.

——————————

It took a whole week for Dream to call him and ask him to meet again. 

The blond had texted George almost as soon as he’d gotten home, making sure George had the opportunity to save his number. Their digital conversation didn’t last long, as it mostly consisted of Dream telling George who he was and thanking him once again for all the help. Over the next few days, the two would wave at each other from their gardens if they happened to be outside at the same time, but that was where their interactions ended. It left George feeling quite deflated—he was too scared to initiate another chat with the man, but as well as his anxiety, he also knew that the blond was probably much too busy to want to hang out.

Luckily, their separation didn’t last long, because one Friday night after getting home from work, George saw a notification pop up on his phone. 

Dream

u busy?

George’s features lighted up, and he texted back a reply immediately.

George

no

i just got home from work and i’m free for the night

why?

The ‘why?’ at the end of the message was unnecessary as the brunet already knew what he was going to ask, but he still wanted to see the man type it.

Dream

maddie made a new friend at school and she’s staying at their house tonight

i don’t have anything to do either

can i come over to your house?

i don’t wanna be lonely :(

George laughed under his breath at Dream’s methods of persuasion. 

George

you don’t need to guilt trip me into spending time with you

of course you can come over

Dream

when?

George

whenever you want

Within a minute, George heard a knock at his front door. 

Giddiness filled him as he glanced over at the entrance. God, he felt like a kid, all excited and weak at the knees, besotted with his latest playground crush. It was embarrassing, really, how easily it had been for him to become obsessed with his neighbour, especially since they’d only had one proper face-to-face conversation with each other. 

After placing his phone down on the kitchen counter, George made his way over to the entrance area and unlocked the door. When he opened it, he saw the gorgeous smile of his neighbour, the lights of his front porch illuminating his beautiful features in the depths of the night’s sky. 

“Hey there,” Dream said in his gorgeous American accent.

“H-hi,” George answered, stunned at how ethereal Dream looked standing outside his house. Despite the darkness surrounding the area, the lights perfectly embellished the gold specks in his emerald eyes. “Do you wanna come in?”

Dream breathed out a laugh. “That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?” he quipped, finishing off his comment with a wink.

George groaned internally. Oh my god, why does he have to be so hot? he thought pitifully. “Oh, yeah, of course,” he said, moving to the side so Dream could enter his home. He watched as the blond scanned his eyes around the room, observing (and probably judging) George’s choices of furniture and colours. The man’s gaze landed on an area in his kitchen, specifically underneath the ledge of one of the windows.

“Why are do you have a bunch of rocks?” he asked, pointing over at the rows of stones lining the kitchen counters, each one completely different from all the others in terms of colour, shape and size. 

George shrugged his shoulders. “I like rocks,” he said simply. “If I see one lying on the side of the road that I think looks cool, I keep it.” 

Dream smiled over at him. “That’s… strangely endearing, actually. I’ve never met anyone who does stuff like that before. It’s cute.”

It’s cute.

He said the words so casually, as if they meant nothing to him, as if he had no idea that they meant everything to George. The brunet’s face flushed immediately, and George had to almost completely turn around to avoid the blond from seeing his visceral reaction. 

“Um, would you—would you like something to drink?” George asked in a weak attempt to change the subject. “Maybe some tea?”

“Some tea?” Dream repeated. “God, could you get any more British?”

“Excuse me?” George said, gaining the confidence to turn back around and smirk at his neighbour. “What’s wrong with being British?”

“Nothing,” Dream said, smirking equally as wide. “It was just a comment, that’s all.”

George loved how easy it was to joke around with the blond, and how he felt like he could be sarcastic without the other taking his words as insults. For some strange reason, he felt like he’d known the man a lot longer than just one week; it was like they’d been friends for years, and George loved it.

“If you keep making fun of me, I won’t make you a cup of my delicious British tea,” George said, raising his eyebrows at Dream. “Trust me, you don’t know what you’re missing out on.”

“Okay fine ,” Dream said. “Make me some of your dumb tea, then.”

“I will ,” George shot back, and got straight to work in the kitchen. “Sit down on the couch, if you want. It won’t take long.”

As Dream took a seat on the sofa as George started preparing their drinks. Like the blond’s house, George’s home also had an open-plan interior, meaning George could sneak a small glance over at his neighbour every once in a while and admire his striking good looks. Whilst the kettle was boiling, George added teabags and sugar to the mugs he’d picked out, and once the water had gotten hot enough to pour into the drinks, he took out the teabags and finished them off with a bit of milk. 

“Would you like the green mug or the blue one?” George asked as he carried the cups over to the couch.

Dream smiled when he heard the brunet approaching. “Green,” he said, and thanked George when he placed the drink in their hands. Once again, George felt sparks in his fingertips when Dream’s brushed his own, and oh shit this is becoming a problem , he thought to himself.

“So, how are you?” George asked, sitting down on the sofa and leaving a considerable amount of distance between his and Dream’s bodies. “How’s the move been so far?”

“Oh, it’s been fine,” Dream said. “Most things have been done now. Still waiting for a couple of big furniture pieces to be delivered, but the place doesn’t look like a total shithole anymore, which is nice.” He glanced down at the mug. “How long will it take for this to cool down?”

“About ten minutes,” George told him. “Well, it depends on how hot you like to drink it. Normally I wait ten minutes. You could try it right now, if you want. Prove how macho you are.”

Dream laughed at his comment, a deliciously beautiful laugh that could’ve come from the mouth of a siren. “Would that be enough to impress you?” Dream asked, and although his tone sounded like it was mocking him, George couldn’t help but hope that some part of the blond actually wanted to impress him.

“Absolutely not,” George replied. “Not if you want to turn your own tongue into lava.”

“Okay, okay, maybe I won’t drink it then,” Dream said, still smiling at George’s earlier comment. “How are you, anyway? I’m sick of just talking about me and my stupid new house.”

“I’m good,” George answered. “Nothing much interesting has happened to me recently.”

“Oh, come on,” Dream promoted. “Tell me something interesting about you, then. What shows are you into? What’s your favourite movie? What’s your favourite sport? Anything, George. Give me something to work with here.”

George rolled his eyes and tried to suppress a smile. Knowing that the blond was actually intrigued to get to know him felt amazing . “Well, to answer those questions… I like loads of different shows, but a lot of my favourites have ended, which sucks. I like crime shows, mostly. My favourite movies are the Harry Potter movies, but the first two are the best because they remind me of Christmas. The third one is good, too, because that one reminds me of Halloween. The earlier films in the series are weirdly festive for some reason. And, I don’t really have a favourite sport right now, but when I was a kid I used to play loads of sports. Swimming, hockey, cricket, rugby, and probably even more that I can’t remember off the top of my head.”

George didn’t realise how much he’d been talking until he finished, and the smile on Dream’s face gave him a sense of self-accomplishment. God, he’d do anything to keep making Dream grin like that. 

“That’s what I wanted to hear,” Dream said warmly.

“A-and what about you?” George asked him. “What would your answers be?”

“My favourite shows are crime shows too,” Dream replied. “My favourite movie is The Dark Knight, and my favourite sport is football.”

“You mean American football, right?” George said with a smirk. “Not proper football?”

“Hey!” Dream cried. “Don’t insult the great sport of football like that!”

“I hate to break it to you, but America is the only country that doesn’t call football ‘football’. I mean, seriously, what the hell is ‘soccer’ ?”

“ ‘Soccer’ is what you guys call ‘football’ . It’s really not that hard to understand.”

“Dream—the entire world calls your version of soccer ‘football’! You guys are the only country that call it soccer. And, I mean, calling your version of football ‘football’ is kinda dumb anyway, because you don’t even play it with your feet!”

By the time they’d finished faux arguing, the two of them were laughing so hard that tears had begun forming in their eyes. George realised he’d found a new favourite hobby: making Dream let out that cute little wheeze that was almost always followed by an even louder chuckle.

“You’re really funny, y’know,” Dream said as they calmed down. “I haven’t laughed like that in a long time.”

“Doesn’t Maddie ever make you laugh?” George asked. “She seems like she’d be a funny kid.”

“Well, yeah, but, it’s different,” Dream replied. “Sometimes I feel like I have to laugh with her. Y’know, because, she’s a kid, and I don’t wanna hurt her feelings if I just keep a plain face whenever it’s obvious she’s trying to make a joke. I dunno. Sometimes it’s nice not to have to force it.”

George smiled. Dream’s words felt extremely honest, and it was nice knowing that the blond felt that way about him. “Thank you for saying that,” George said earnestly. “I haven’t been complimented like that in a long time.”

Dream pulled a skeptical face. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Why?” George asked, raising his eyebrows in question.

The blond shrugged their shoulders. “Because. You’re just—I dunno. You just seem like someone who gets compliments a lot.” 

George blushed slightly at his words, and wondered how on earth he’d managed to come to that conclusion. “Drink your tea,” he said in response, trying his best to change the subject. “It’ll probably be cool enough for you now.”

Dream raised the mug to his lips and took a small sip of the drink. He let the liquid rest in his mouth for a couple of seconds, before he gulped it down and hummed contently. “It’s nice. Really nice. A bit sugary, though.”

“I put two sugars in,” George told him. “Maybe you’d be better with one and a half?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Dream said, taking another couple of sips. “It’s still lovely. Thank you, George.”

“You’re welcome,” George answered, finally tasting his own drink. The amount of sugar was perfect for himself, but maybe Dream didn’t have as much of a sweet tooth as he did.

As the pair slowly drank their drinks, they carried on their earlier chat, trying their best to learn as much about each other as possible. Deam was such an easy person to talk to, and George found himself never wanting their conversation to end. Talking to Dream felt so easy; it was like speaking to an old friend, one that you’d known for years, one that you had tons in common with and could trust with your life. How on earth they’d managed to reach that level of rapport with each other so quickly George would never be able to explain, but one thing he did know was that it felt fucking amazing. 

Despite his enjoyment, though, he knew that at some point their time together would have to end, but disappointment still hit him when Dream looked down and checked his watch a short while after finishing his tea. 

“God, I didn’t realise how late it was,” the blond said. “I should probably get going.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” George answered, hoping that his sadness wasn’t too apparent in his voice. “Here, give me your mug. I’ll move them and then I’ll see you out.”

Once George had placed the mugs in the sink, him and Dream walked back over to the entranceway. They said their goodbyes with smiles, both thanking each other for the lovely evening, and after George opened the door, Dream was just about to leave the house when he stopped in the doorway.

“I just have two more questions to ask you,” he said, the cool night’s air blowing gently into the house and making the hairs on George’s arms stand on end.

“What are they?” George asked with a smile. They were standing close, so close that George had to look up to see Dream’s face, and their height difference was extremely apparent from that position. 

“Um, okay,” Dream said, taking a deep breath. “Just before I start, I want to let you know that if I’ve misread this whole situation, then please tell me, and I’ll reign myself in a bit. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.” Another deep breath. “What’s your favourite restaurant? One that’s, like, close to here? Y’know, one that wouldn’t take more than, let’s say, half an hour to drive to.”

George wracked his brain for a minute. “Well, there’s a really nice diner about ten minutes from here. It’s quite casual, and it sells a lot of American-style food. They have different menus for breakfast, lunch and dinner, which is cool. Why?”

In an action that made George’s legs turn to jelly, Dream ran his tongue over his bottom lip and pulled it into his mouth, and it physically hurt how much George wished he was the one doing that to him instead. Then, the blond smirked, and George cursed the man for being so annoyingly hot. “Would you like to take me there? Just so I can judge for myself how good it actually is.”

Wait, is he…? No, he can’t be. What? George thought to himself. He couldn’t believe what was happening. “Dream… are you asking me to ask you out on a date?”

“What? No…” Dream said in a comical tone that made the brunet giggle. “Not like a date . Just, I dunno, two neighbours hanging out.”

“Oh,” George said, revelling in Dream’s flustered state. “Just two neighbours hanging out.”

“Yeah,” Dream agreed, scratching the back of his head. “Would that be okay?”

“Well, it depends when you’re free next,” George told him.

“Hmm, well, Maddie got accepted into a gymnastics group last week, and her first proper training session is next Tuesday evening.” Dream smiled down at George hopefully. “Would that be good with you?”

George could barely contain his excitement. “That would be great with me,” he said, voice sounding almost breathless.

Dream’s smile grew ten sizes. “Great! You, um, make sure you text me the details, okay?” he asked, stepping out into the darkness.

“I will,” George replied. “Thank you for tonight. I’m looking forward to our not-date.”

“Yeah, me too,” Dream said, and with one final wave goodbye, he turned and began walking the short distance over to his own house.

After shutting the door and locking it securely, George leaned against the white aluminium and buried his face in his palms. A blossoming grin spread over his face, and he screamed excitedly into his palms. It didn’t matter what language Dream had used—they were definitely going on a proper date on Tuesday night. George had no idea how he’d be able to wait another four days to see Dream again, but until, and he had no idea how things had managed to go so far in his favour, but what he did know was that there was no way in hell he was about to mess this up. Even just the slight chance that Dream was just as attracted to him as he was to them made him feel giddy, and he couldn’t wait to finally have the opportunity to spend more time with him. 

——————————

By the time Tuesday came around, all their plans had been set. 

Maddie’s gymnastic lessons started at six in the evening, and Dream would arrive at George’s house as soon as he’d dropped her off. They’d drive to the diner, have a nice meal and get to know each other better, all whilst making sure that they were finished early enough for Dream to pick Maddie up when she finished at eight o’clock. George had already messaged the blond the location of the diner and some directions on how to get there, so the man knew exactly where he’d be going. 

When George got home from work he immediately got into the shower, making sure to wash his hair thoroughly so it looked silky and smooth, and used his favourite vanilla pumpkin shower cream to make himself smell nice. After drying his hair, he applied a few basic makeup products to his face—just a bit of concealer to cover the bags under his eyes, a peachy blush to make his cheeks look pinker and some mascara to accentuate his eyelashes—and wore a simple outfit consisting of a white short sleeved t-shirt, baggy black jeans and a denim jacket. Looking at himself in the full-length mirror in his bedroom, he let himself admire his own appearance; in his opinion, he looked pretty good, and he hoped that Dream would think the same too.

At exactly six o’clock, George headed downstairs and sat down on his sofa, tapping his fingers on his thigh as he waited for Dream to arrive. Sure enough, at five minutes past six, George heard a knock at his door. The brunet took a couple of deep breaths, making sure he was calm before he introduced himself again. Keep calm. Act normal. You’ll be okay. Excitedly, he stood up from his place on the couch and opened the door, and was stunned when he saw what was standing behind it.

Dream looked gorgeous , although George should’ve been able to guess that fact before he saw him; somehow, Dream always seemed to look gorgeous. His caramel hair had been styled to perfection, and it looked like he’d also added some basic makeup to his face—the highlighter on his cheeks beautifully accentuated his glistening jade eyes. Gold hoop earrings hung from his lobes, and the dark green varnish on his nails perfectly matched his lighter green polo shirt. A black leather jacket hung from his shoulders, and the outfit made him look like the human version of Aphrodite. 

“Hey,” Dream said in a charming voice.

“Hey,” George breathed out, completely perplexed by the man standing in front of him. “How—how are you?”

“I’m great,” Dream answered. “Everything with Maddie has been sorted out. If we set off now we’ll have about an hour and a half before I have to go and pick her up.” 

“That’s awesome,” George said. “Shall we set off now?”

“I don’t see any point in waiting,” Dream said. With a wink, he turned around and began walking over to his car still parked in his own driveway, with George swiftly following him after locking the front door shut. The blond got into the driver’s seat whilst George slid into the passenger’s seat next to him.

“I’ve never been in a car this luxurious before,” George commented, settling into the comfortable seat and admiring the sleek interior.

“It’s nice, right?” Dream said proudly. “I bought it pretty much as soon as we got to England, so it’s basically brand new. It took me a while to get used to driving on the other side of the road, but I think I’ve got the hang of it now.”

George glided his hand across the framework. “I’m still baffled about how you can afford this,” he said, eyeing Dream curiously. “What do you work as?”

“Oh, nothing interesting,” Dream said nonchalantly as he pulled out of the drive. 

“Um, excuse me? No,” George retorted. “I’m not letting you get away with that so easily. Come on, it’s not like I’m gonna tell anyone.”

Dream huffed. “Fine. I’m a digital copywriter.”

“What the hell is that ?” George asked. He was desperately eager to find out more about his neighbour.

“Basically I produce written content for webpages,” Dream explained. “I have an employed position with a particular company, but I also do a bit of freelance work in my spare time to earn a bit of extra cash. My job is all about engaging whoever’s reading and trying to motivate them to do something, such as, like, buy a product or use a service.”

“That’s… really fucking cool, actually,” George said. “What types of businesses have you written for?”

“Well, currently I work for a beauty and cosmetics company, but I’ve written for clothing stores, grocery stores, spas, sports centres, literally everywhere. Obviously, all in the US, but I’m currently looking for a bit of freelance work over here to help me and Maddie out.”

“Don’t you find yourself getting too busy? With all that extra work?”

“Eh, not really,” Dream said. “I’m good at what I do, so it never really takes me too long to finish one job.” He glanced over at George. “What about you? What do you do?”

“My job is a lot more boring than yours,” he said. “I’m an applications analyst, but unlike you, I work completely freelance, but I rent my own office to work from so I don’t get distracted at home. I basically consult with the management of different companies and help develop software to fit their clients’ needs.”

“That doesn’t sound boring at all,” Dream said. “How’d you manage to bag a job like that?”

“Well, I mean, having a first in a computer science degree helps to make me look pretty desirable,” George told him. 

“I actually minored in computer science when I was in college, y’know,” Dream said with a smile.

“Really?” George asked. “What did you major in?”

“English literature,” Dream replied. “I’ve always loved reading books. Ever since I was a kid, I loved letting myself leave the real world and explore a completely new one. I used it as escapism when I felt like shit.”

“I used to do that with computers,” George said. “Whenever I’d had a bad day at school, the first thing I did when I got home was jump on Minecraft or Counter Strike or something. I used it as a distraction for all the shitty things I didn’t want to deal with.”

Dream laughed under his breath. “I guess we have a lot in common in that respect, huh?”

George smiled at the blond. “Yeah, we do.” Honestly, it felt amazing knowing that he and Dream did have things in common—they both liked crime shows, they’d both studied computer science… and George couldn’t wait to find out what else the two of them shared.

“Wait, is it there?” Dream asked, gesturing towards a one-storey building coming up on George’s side. 

“Shit, yeah, it is,” George replied. “Pull into that junction as soon as you can.”

Following George’s instructions, Dream followed the road all the way down to where the diner was situated. The outside was decorated with colours ranging from ivory to crimson to sky blue, with large windows that let out the light coming from the inside. Dream parked in a spot near to the entrance of the diner and both men got out of the car.

“It looks nice,” Dream said simply.

George scoffed. “Is that it? ‘It looks nice’ ?”

“Well, how am I supposed to know whether it actually is nice?” Dream questioned. “I’ll be the judge of that when I try the food.”

“Fine,” George said with a huff. “ Be the judge of that, then, I don’t care.”

With a smirk and wink, Dream swung open the door of the restaurant and gestured for George to enter first, the brunet squeaking out a word of thanks as he walked by. God, Dream was unfairly attractive, and sometimes George didn’t know what to do with himself. 

Once inside the restaurant, they were greeted by a smiley waitress wearing a red and white striped apron, who guided them to their table and handed them their menus. Luckily, they’d been seated in one of George’s favourite spots: in a booth created from two comfortable red leather benches separated by a silver metal table, right next to one of the large windows facing the car park. 

“I like it in here,” Dream said from the opposite side of the booth, glancing around and admiring the interior decor. “It kind of feels like being back in the US.”

“That’s exactly why I thought you’d like it,” George told him, not finding the need to glance over the menu as he basically had all the diner’s dishes memorised at that point. “This might be a bit of a personal question so it’s okay if you don’t want to answer, but… do you miss it? Like, do you miss Florida?”

Dream shrugged. “Sometimes. I miss parts of it, I guess. My friends, the rest of my family, the familiarity of the environment… actually, maybe I miss more about it than I thought.” He let out a quiet chuckle. “It’s been a bit difficult to adjust, but I’m getting used to it now. And, I mean, there are lots of positives that the UK has going for it.”

“Like what?” George asked, curious as to what examples he would give.

The grin on Dream’s face was knowing. “Well, like my fantastic new neighbour, for starters.”

George rolled his eyes and let out a giggle, completely unable to stop a sheepish smile from spreading across his face. “Shut up.”

“I mean it, George,” Dream pushed. “I’m really thankful for you, genuinely. Moving to a new place is scary, and you really made me feel welcome.”

“Oh, uh, well, I’m glad,” George said with a smile. “I’m, um, I’m glad I could help you. And Maddie? How is she doing?”

“Surprisingly well, actually. She’s already made quite a few new friends, and she’s not finding her school work too difficult. But, I mean, I always knew she’d be fine. She’s a lot more naturally extroverted than I am.”

“Kids are strong,” George said. “They’re a lot stronger than some adults give them credit for. I’m sure Maddie will be fine too.”

George desperately wanted to ask Dream why he moved to England a second time, but he really didn’t want to push the man’s boundaries. With the way Dream had glossed over the question last time, George had already assumed that the topic was a touchy subject to him, and so the brunet decided to keep his curiosity at bay for a little while longer. Still, it didn’t stop him from wondering what kind of disaster could’ve happened that would make someone want to pack up their things and move to an entirely different continent. Because, like Dream had hinted to before, an international job wasn’t the only reason why they were there. 

Whilst still making small conversation, Dream began looking over the menu. 

“Yep, this place is definitely copying America,” the blond said as he scanned his eyes over the items. “I swear I knew a place with almost this exact menu just down the street from me as a kid.”

“The names might feel familiar, but I promise you that they’ll look and taste a lot different,” George reminded him. “American food is a lot fattier than English food, and portion sizes over in the US are like twice as big as ours.”

“What do you normally order?” Dream asked.

“Um, well, I order tons of stuff, I guess. But my favourite is probably the bacon cheeseburger. With all the added extras, of course… pickle slices, onion rings, coleslaw and french fries. It’s not a perfect meal unless you have all the sides. That’s probably what I’m going to get today, actually.”

Dream placed the menu back down on the table. “That’s what I’ll have too, then.”

George eyed Dream skeptically. “Why? Have you even looked at anything else? Isn’t there something that caught your eye?”

Dream shook his head decidedly. “Nope. I wanna have what you’re having. Then I can judge your taste as well as the diner’s.”

“You’re so dumb,” George said with a short laugh. “Fine. Be stubborn like that. I’m guessing you’ll also be wanting a milkshake, right?”

“If that’s what you want too,” Dream said with a smirk. 

“God, you’re literally so annoying,” George groaned. “I want you to get a different flavour to me, though. At least try to be original.”

Dream flipped the menu over to see the names of all the milkshakes that were listed. “Which one are you getting?”

“I’m gonna get the salted caramel pretzel one.”

“Fine, I won’t get that one then. I’ll get the, um, the… the cherry vanilla one. There. Very original.”

“Yes, yes, Dream, I’m so proud of you,” George laughed. An embarrassing thought entered George’s brain as he watched his neighbour grin widely at him from the other side of the booth: I can’t remember the last time I smiled as much as this.

When the waitress came back over to their table, George gave her their orders, and immediately the two of them plunged each other back into their lighthearted and entertaining conversation. When their milkshakes came, displayed in long and thin glasses with whipped cream balanced on top, George watched as the blond took the first sip of his drink. Straight away, Dream’s eyes widened with glee, and George couldn’t help but feel accomplished that the man seemed to be liking his favourite restaurant so far.

The enjoyment continued when their food arrived. With all four extras added to their gigantic plates, it looked as if a small feast had been deposited in front of them, and Dream looked extremely satisfied by the size of their meals. Without hesitation, he took a large bite into his burger, and to George’s surprise, his neighbour moaned at the deliciousness of it, which did manage to catch George off guard for a couple of seconds. At one point, George had to scold him for eating too fast, because he knew that the quicker they finished their meals, the earlier they’d have to leave, and he really didn’t want their time together to end any time soon.

So far, neither of them had mentioned the fact that this was supposed to have been a kind-of not-really sort-of date, but with the way Dream had been acting, it certainly felt like a proper date. The man had been looking at him with such a strong state that George felt like he’d been sitting under a microscope the entire time, and it was painfully obvious by now that the man was purposely laughing at everything he said, even when he wasn’t even making a joke. But the absolute cherry on top was when Dream decided to start stealing some of his fries, and George had to smack his hand away to make him stop while ignoring the beautiful sounds of amusement falling from his mouth. And, the blatantly obvious flirting didn’t just seem obvious to George, but apparently other people were noticing it too—on multiple occasions George had seen their waitress staring at them with knowing eyes, and immediately averting her eyes as soon as she caught George’s gaze. It did make him feel quite comfortable in himself, because at least his doubts were confirmed now—George’s little crush was absolutely, undeniably reciprocated. 

By the end, both of them had eaten every single ounce of food on their plates.

“That was seriously good, George,” Dream said. “Thank you for suggesting this place.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” George answered. “I had a feeling you’d like it.”

The waitress brought their bill over shortly after, and George had just pulled his wallet out of his jeans when Dream placed a hand on his forearm.

“Don’t worry, George, I’ve got this,” he said, his own debit card already lying on the table.

George’s jaw dropped open wide. “Dream, no, I can’t—I can’t ask you to do that,” he protested, but it seemed like Dream was having none of it.

“You’re not asking me, George,” he said, “I’m offering . And, plus, it was me that suggested we do this in the first place. It’s only fair that I pay.”

The brunet let out a sigh. “Dream, are you sure ?”

“ Yes , I’m sure. Seriously, George, it’s nothing. It’s just a little meal, that’s all.”

With another sigh and a grateful smile, George thanked Dream for his kindness, and once again Dream deflected George’s appreciation. If George hadn’t been certain about the blond’s intentions before, now his aims were unquestionable—this whole thing was a date after all, and a very good one at that.

The waitress brought a card machine over to their table, and whilst Dream was typing in his pin, she placed something down on the table that the blond didn’t seem to notice. When Dream had finished with the machine, she sent a wink in George’s direction and sauntered off back to the bar area. George noticed that the item she’d felt wa a napkin, and when he picked it up and inspected it— oh fuck .

On the back of it was a phone number , scribbled in what looked like black sharpie ink, with the words ‘call me’ written above the contact and a little love heart right next to it.

“What’s that?” Dream asked, pointing at the serviette in George’s hand.

George let out a small laugh. “That waitress just gave me her fucking phone number. Can you believe it?”

When he glanced up at Dream’s face, he didn’t miss the way his features seemed to drop. “Oh, yeah. Yeah, that is kinda funny,” he said, scratching at the back of his neck. 

George rolled his eyes. “You’re an idiot, Dream,” he said, as he screwed up the sheet of paper and placed it back on the table. When Dream looked at him curiously, he scoffed. “What? You seriously thought I was gonna keep that?”

Dream shrugged his shoulders. “Well, I mean… why wouldn’t you?”

Oh my god, am I actually about to do this? George asked himself. The answer as to why was simple, but saying it out loud to someone he’d only been face-to-face with three times was still a little daunting. Despite that, though, Dream had just spent their entire meal flirting with him, so he didn’t really have much to lose anymore.

George took a deep breath, then gave his answer: “I’m gay, Dream. That’s why.”

And with that, George stood up from the booth. He pulled out his phone and checked the time. 

“It’s—um, it’s twenty to eight,” Dream said, pointing at the clock on the other side of the room. “So, we should probably get going.” Dream stood up too, and to George’s surprise, held out his hand. “We should get going, yeah?”

Confidence washed over the brunet, and without hesitation, he took Dream’s hand in his own, interlocking their fingers and squeezing gently. When he looked down at where they were connected, he was baffled by their size difference; both of George’s hands could’ve easily fit into just one of Dream’s. The blond’s palm was warm, comforting, and surprisingly soft, and George was terrified at how quickly he’d begun to fall for the blond. “Yeah,” George said. “Let’s get going. We don’t want Maddie to get abandoned at her gymnastics class.”

Dream let out a laugh. “Yeah, that would be great, would it?” 

Still hand in hand, Dream and George left the diner, but not before the blond had thrown a few pounds of cash on the table as a tip. Darkness now completely covered the sky, with the outside lights of the diner illuminating the area. When they reached Dream’s car, George reluctantly let go of his hand and slid into the car. 

“Um, is it okay if I pick Maddie up and then drop you off?” Dream asked as the two of them put on their seatbelts. “That was always the plan I had, anyway. I don’t think I’ll have enough time to take you home beforehand.”

“Oh, no, of course it’s okay,” George replied while Dream switched the ignition of the car on. “At least it means we get to spend a little more time together. And—um, thank you for tonight, Dream. Really. I never would’ve had the courage to ask you to do something like this. I’m glad at least one of us was brave enough.”

“How come you wouldn’t have been able to ask me?” Dream questioned as they pulled out of the car park. “You don’t really seem like the shy type to me.”

George let out a small laugh and looked down at his knees. “I don’t know. Sometimes I struggle with talking to people, that’s all. Not with you, though. You make everything feel so easy. It’s weird, but in a good way, y’know? But still, I never would’ve been able to ask you. I’m too scared of rejection.” He punctuated his last sentence with another short laugh.

Dream looked at George out of the corner of his eye, making sure he was still paying attention to the road. “Why would someone like you ever be afraid of rejection?” he asked.

“I—um, I don’t know?” George asked back. “I mean… why shouldn’t I be?”

“Well, I mean, you’re gorgeous, obviously,” Dream began. “And you’re kind, too. God, you’re so kind. Kind, and caring, and generous, and respectful , too. You don’t push me for an answer to questions that I avoid, which is important to me, because I hate it when people try to force me into talking about stuff I don’t want to. And you’re sweet, as well. Really sweet, and funny . God, you’re fucking hilarious, and I don’t even know if you’re trying to be half the time, but you are. And those rocks ? What the hell were those rocks all about, dude? They’re adorable. I think it’s great how you just have a bunch of fucking rocks lying around. It makes me happy that you don’t seem to be ashamed of the things you like, because for a long time I used to be the person that hid my personality to make people like me more. Oh my god, I probably sound like a weirdo right now, don’t I? Just—look, if you want to ignore everything I just said then you can. But… I promise you, George. No one like you should be afraid of rejection. You’re basically perfect.”

What. The. Fuck?

George was starstruck. His palms felt sweaty where they were placed on his knees, and his fingers curled into themselves instinctively. Long, even breaths escaped his body, regulated by his own mind, because if George didn’t put so much effort into his own respiring then he didn’t know if he’d be able to. He couldn’t believe what had just happened; he should be happy , he should be jumping for joy that Dream had just bared his heart like that, but for some reason, happiness wasn’t the driving emotion he was feeling. No, it was fear . George was scared . Because was he really everything that Dream had just said he was? Or was Dream blinded by his own naively? They’d barely known each other for two weeks, and Dream already had so many assumptions about him. What if all those assumptions ended up turning out to be wrong? What if Dream got to know him better and decided that George was the exact opposite of what he thought?

Quite frankly, the idea terrified him. Disappointing people was George’s least favourite thing on the planet, and right then, George couldn’t think of a person he’d less like to disappoint than the man sitting next to him. 

George didn’t really know how to properly answer Dream’s speech, so he settled on something simple. “You… you really didn’t need to say all that,” he said quietly. 

“I know I didn’t need to,” Dream said. “But, like before, when I paid for the meals, I wanted to. I want you to know what I’m feeling right now. And now , it’s up to you what you do with all that information.”

The brunet fiddled with the fingers in his lap. “And what if I choose to ignore it all?” George asked, although he had absolutely no plans to disregard the blond’s words, because what kind of person could even think of taking no notice of a declaration such as that? In all honesty, he just wanted to hear what Dream’s reaction would be to his nonchalance. “Would you be offended?”

“Of course I wouldn’t be offended,” Dream said. “It’s your choice, George.”

Silence fell over them, and George felt like Dream expected him to give another option. 

So, he did.

“And… if I chose to act on your words?” George asked quietly, quietly because he felt as if he’d jinx his chances if he spoke them too loud. “What would happen?”

It was just at that moment when George realised they’d pulled into another car park. There were groups of people of all ages standing outside an industrial looking building, one of which seemed to be walking closer to them. When the person in question got close enough to focus on, George could see that they were a girl—and when they got even closer, he realised that he recognised her: Maddie.

Just before the girl reached the car, Dream gave him an answer.

“Well, I guess it would be up to you what would happen, wouldn’t it?”

Their conversation was interrupted by one of the back doors of the car opening.

“Hey, Dream,” Maddie said as she slid into the car, seating herself behind George. She was dressed in a dark blue tracksuit, and she deposited a large gym bag onto the seat next to her.

“Hey, Mads,” Dream answered. “Have a good lesson?”

“Yep. It was pretty easy. Coach said I’ll probably end up moving up a group. Apparently I’m further ahead than a lot of the kids my age.”

“Maddie, that’s great!” Dream cried, turning round to smile at his niece. “I’m really proud of you!”

“What’s George doing here?” the girl asked.

“Oh—yeah, hi!” George said, also turning round so that Maddie could properly see him. As he began speaking, Dream started up the car again and began their drive home. “I’m here too. Dream and I, we just—I just showed him a cool diner down the road from our neighbourhood. You really liked it, didn’t you Dream?” he asked, looking up at Dream.

“I’m gonna take you there one night after school, Mads,” the blond stated. “They have so many different milkshake flavours, and I know how much you like milkshakes. They even had strawberry shortcake flavour, which I immediately knew would be your favourite. What do you think?”

“I guess that sounds kinda cool,” Maddie answered. George thought that she sounded a little unenthusiastic, but with the grin on Dream’s face, apparently that was how she sounded when she was excited about things. “So, what did you guys do while you were there?” she continued.

“Uh, what do you think we did?” Dream asked sarcastically. “We went to a restaurant , Maddie, so believe it or not, we ate food .”

“Shut up, I was only asking,” she said, and George saw her roll her eyes from one of the car’s mirrors. The brunet smirked to himself; he loved their uncle-niece dynamic, and if Dream had been a younger and Maddie a little older, it would’ve been easy to assume they were siblings instead. 

The group carried on their casual conversations for the rest of the drive home, with Dream and Maddie spurting out their usual sarcastic remarks towards each other every once in a while. When they reached their neighbourhood and parked outside Dream’s home, George felt disappointment swelling in his stomach. He really didn’t want to leave so soon.

“Is it okay that I parked here?” Dream asked him, looking down at him with a small smile.

George let out a laugh. “Are you seriously asking me whether I’ll get home okay ?” he mocked. “I live right next door, Dream.”

“Oh, come on,” the blond retorted. “I was just trying to be polite.” 

“Dream, it’s fine,” George assured him. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Uh, Maddie?” Dream asked, turning to look at his niece. “I was thinking about asking George if he wanted to come over for dinner over the weekend. Would that be okay with you?”

George coughed purposefully. “Excuse me? This is the first I’m hearing about this.”

It was obvious that Dream was trying to contain a smirk, and his attempts completely failed when Maddie let out an uncaring “Hmm. Yeah, that’s fine.”

The brunet rolled his eyes. “Fine, I guess I’m having dinner at your place at the weekend then.”

“How does Saturday sound?” Dream asked him. “Six o’clock, maybe?”

“Saturday at six o’clock is perfect.”

Dream turned back to Maddie. “Hey, remember how I said I’d leave a spare key under the mat?” 

Maddie nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“Go and let yourself in the house. I’ll join you in a couple of minutes.”

The girl let out a sigh. “Fine,” she said as she grabbed her bag and exited the car. 

Dream looked back over at George, and it looked as if he was about to open his mouth to speak, but George bet him to it.

“I really hope that you had a good time tonight,” the brunet said earnestly. “I tried my hardest to make sure you did. I want you to know that you’re always welcome in my company.” A few beats of silence went by, and George internally debated whether or not it would be a good idea to talk about what he knew he wanted to, but eventually he came to a decision. “I don’t know what… happened … to make you want to pack up all your things and move to a different continent, but… I want you to know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m here.” He pushed as much empathy and kindness as he could into a smile that was directed to and meant for only the man in front of him. “I don’t expect you to talk about anything until you’re ready—in fact, I don’t expect you to talk about anything at all if you don’t want to—but if you ever do want to, then I’m all ears.”

George had never been good at reading people, but from the minute he’d met the blond, he could tell that his face was like an open book. Right now, it was no different—surprise, appreciation, sadness , gratefulness, and something terrifyingly similar to adoration were the main contenders, and George wasn’t sure he’d ever been looked at like that before.

“George, I—” Dream began, and his tone seemed so vulnerable that George was afraid he would cry. “That means—that means a lot. It really does. Um. Hah.” He lifted his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck, which is a habit George expected he always did when he was nervous. “Listen, I—I’m not good at this sentimental stuff, okay? But, I promise that I’ll take you up on that offer if I ever need it.”

The brunet smiled. “I’m glad. I’ll be waiting.”

“Thank you, George. I really have had an incredible night.”

Dream’s hand was still resting on the gear stick, and George reached over to place his palm over the blond’s. He interlaced his smaller fingers between his neighbour’s much larger ones, and squeezed gently on his hand. 

“Thank you , Dream. I’ll be looking forward to dinner.”

And with that, George stepped out of the car and closed the door behind him. He gave a small wave to the man still inside, and then made the small walk back over to his house. Just as he was about to unlock his door, he saw Dream walking up to his own front door, and the two men held each other’s gazes as they stepped into their own homes. As George locked his door, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was that someone like Dream was now his neighbour, and he couldn’t wait to see how things would progress between them in the future. 

——————————

Over the next few weeks, Dream and George spent an inordinate amount of time together. 

Dinner at the blond’s house went excellently. The blond completely outdoing himself, with his delicious pasta with salmon and peas that could’ve rivalled any professional chef’s take on the meal. George had thoroughly enjoyed watching Dream and Maddie interact with each other in such a domestic setting, and it made him happy knowing that they both had someone as incredible as the other in their lives. 

Due to the fact that they both had relatively flexible jobs, sometimes they were able to find spare afternoons to spend with each other on weekdays whilst Maddie was at school. Apparently her school was close enough for her to walk home on her own when Dream was working, but on the days that Dream was free he’d go to pick her up. On one of those days George accompanied him, and it was on that day when Dream had acted the most adorably he had since they’d met. 

“Hey, uh, I got you something,” Dream said when the two of them had exited the car. They were standing on Dream’s drive after getting back from school, and Maddie was already inside the house. 

George looked up at Dream expectantly. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Dream said, carrying out his usual nervous tell of scratching the back of his neck. “It’s kinda dumb, really. Uh, anyway.” The blond pulled something out of his back pocket, and George could barely believe it when he saw it. “It’s, just, uh, it’s just a rock. I saw it lying on the floor outside Maddie’s school and, well, I guess I just thought it looked cool. I thought you could add it to your collection, maybe? I dunno. You, uh, you can if you want to.”

“Dream, I—” George said, but stopped before he could finish his sentence. He was speechless . The rock in Dream’s hand was grey, polished and relatively oblong, with a few uneven but smooth edges. George couldn’t believe that his neighbour had been thinking about him so much that he’d had the idea to find him a fucking rock . “Oh my god, thank you ,” George exclaimed. When Dream placed the stone in his hand, he immediately clamped his fist around it. 

“I know it’s only small, but I, er—” Dream paused, “I knew you’d like it.”

“I do like it,” George answered, running his fingers over the smooth surface. “This was really sweet of you, you know?”

Dream shrugged his shoulders. “I try my best.”

That day had been the first time they had hugged each other, and George had to admit that the feeling of the other man’s strong arms holding him tightly at the waist felt amazing .

After then, something had switched between the two of them. George could feel it, and although the difference was certainly apparent to him, he didn’t quite mind the change. Dream would text him a lot more, asking him random questions like what he was planning on having for dinner and what he was currently watching on TV. Their good morning and goodnight messages became a daily occurrence, and George didn’t notice a day go past where he and Dream didn’t talk over text. Another thing that seemed to have evolved between them was their in person conversations; Dream would sit a little closer to him, laugh a little louder at his obviously- not jokes, and act a little more helpful whenever he needed something. 

George had come to learn that Dream was like a puppy: excitable and loyal and energetic, but sweet and comforting at the same time.

George was quite quickly beginning to adore him. 

As time passed, their meetings became more frequent, and soon, they were spending at least three or four days a week in each other’s company. The connection between them was undeniable, and George found it scary how easy it had been for them to fall into such a domestic habit. For some reason, they’d just clicked ; their personalities complimented each other perfectly, they had practically the exact same sense of humour, and it was painfully obvious to the brunet that neither of them could keep their eyes off each other. Every so often, he’d catch Dream staring at him when he was in the kitchen making them something to eat, and he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t done the exact same thing to the blond when he was busy working to make them a meal. Dream’s presence was as disquieting as it was consoling—of course it was nice for George to have someone around that he got along with so well, but it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to spend any amount of time in the blond’s company without kissing him.

Because, yes, George might have a little bit of a crush on the man, which was a whole different story compared to just finding him hot. Dream was objectively a very attractive man, but the more George had gotten to know him, the more he’d begun to realise that he was so much more than that. Unsurprisingly, he was one of the most charismatic people George had ever met, always knowing the right thing to say in any situation that faced him. Not to mention he was a total sweet talker, and apparently had a thing for showering George with compliments even when the brunet had done absolutely nothing to deserve them. But most of all, Dream was kind; from how selfless he seemed to be when it came to driving Maddie to and from whatever activity she had that evening, to all the domestic tasks he’d offer to do in George’s home (and end up doing anyway even if George tried to talk him out of it), the brunet could clearly see that he was just one of those people. He didn’t play his kindness up for praise or attention; he genuinely was just that thoughtful. No amount of physical beauty ever could have matched the beauty Dream had on the inside, which is why George was struggling so much with the gradual realisation that he might actually like Dream.

What they had at that point was great. A solid friendship, created in an authentic way, built on the important principles of trust and helpfulness and mutual interest in the same things. It was clear that they had a lot in common, and while they also had a few similar traits, their personalities thankfully didn’t seem to clash. They’d never had an argument, nor been mad at each other for something, not even something small. Which is why, in George’s mind, all the loose ends were apparently tying themselves together, and their friendship blossoming into a relationship seemed to be the most logical option. 

However, the catch was that George wasn’t sure if he actually wanted that to happen. Yes Dream was gorgeous, and yes his personality was amazing, and yes George still hadn’t found one bad thing out about him yet. But things had been going so well , and they’d been having such a good time together over the weeks since they’d met, and the brunet wasn’t sure he wanted to jeopardise the position of their friendship by taking things a step further. 

Dating someone was entirely different to just being friends with them. For the most part of George’s life, he had found it difficult to allow himself to fall in love with people quickly, and what if Dream was the total opposite? What if he fell head-over-heels too quickly, and George had to rush himself to match the blond’s pace? The idea of hurting his neighbour terrified him, but with his track record of love, Dream would surely end up disappointed by the length of time it normally took George to truly love someone. There was also the issue of how dependent they’d become on one another—as friends, their face-to-face interactions were based solely on how busy the two of them were, but if they were in a proper relationship, would the pressure to see each other regularly grow stronger? And would that affect the authenticity of their bond? Obviously that wasn’t even mentioning how much more time they’d have to devote to each other—Dream had a kid he needed to take care of, for fuck’s sake, and George would hate himself if he ever got in the way of their relationship. Then there was the issue of decision making, as their choices would end up having to be based on mutual discussions and take away the freedom for them to make decisions on their own. At least the characteristics of their bond would stay the same; honesty, care, sincerity, trust and understanding, which were all traits that people in a relationship were expected to have with each other, Dream and George had already built up during their weeks of strong friendship. But the idea of actually having to commit to something, to someone , made him feel a lot more scared than it probably should’ve. 

In spite of all his worries, George knew that he should’ve talked to Dream about his concerns. The blond had proven time and time again that he was trustworthy enough for George to confide in him, but that wasn’t what the brunet was anxious about. In his mind, if he didn’t verbally acknowledge his growing crush, then hopefully things wouldn’t change too drastically too quickly, and the two of them could carry on pretending that the only feelings between them were platonic. Because, let’s face it, there was an obvious sense of attraction that existed whenever they were together, but admitting to its actuality seemed like too difficult a task for either of them.

Maybe things would get a bit easier once Dream decided to confide in George about the reason why he moved to the UK, but like the brunet had told himself a thousand times, the last thing he needed to be doing was trying to pressure Dream into talking about something he wasn’t ready to. Progress would come slowly, and George knew he had to be ready to accept any and all the information Dream decided to give him. 

What George wasn’t expecting was for all that progress to come straight at once without a shred of warning. 

Dream and George were sitting at the latter’s kitchen table, chatting nonchalantly after just having eaten a meal made by the brunet. He’d cooked them a simple mac ‘n’ cheese recipe, and after they’d finished the food and he’d washed up the plates they got settled down for their usual routine of talking until one of them had to return to their own house. 

“How’s Maddie doing?” George asked the blond. “I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“She’s doing great,” Dream replied. “Amazing, actually. She seems really happy here. She’s made quite a few friends, she’s doing well in school… I don’t know, man, but it just seems like she’s flourishing.”

George smiled. “That doesn’t surprise me, actually.”

Dream eyed him quizzically. “Why not?”

“Well, I mean, kids are always bound to be better at adjusting to things like that than adults,” he explained. “Obviously it was probably a bit difficult for her, but young people are good at bouncing back from difficult situations. It’s easier when you’re younger because you’re still growing, your body and mind are still adjusting to the world and you still have so much more to learn. But for adults it’s more difficult, because we’ve already learned everything we think we need to know and we’ve already adjusted to one particular way of life or way of thinking.”

“That’s poetic,” Dream joked. “But I get what you mean. And yeah, to be fair, I think I agree. I’ve seen a lot of that behaviour in Maddie recently. She seems very… resilient.”

“Resilient?” George asked. “How so?”

Dream shrugged, looking down at his knees. “I dunno. Some shit happened back home. She recovered from it better than I was expecting.”

Things were silent for a few moments before George decided to speak up. “Shit happened back home? Is that related to why you left Florida?”

The blond nodded his head. “Yeah. Yeah, um, it is.”

George could sense the unease in his tone and immediately backtracked. “Dream, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I completely understand if you’re not ready. I don’t—”

“George, calm down for a second,” Dream interrupted, looking back at him with a small smile. “I—uh, I want to. Talk about it. Um, if that’s okay with you.”

The brunet’s expression softened. “Dream, of course that’s okay. Don’t push yourself, though. Remember that I’m not expecting anything from you. Go at your own pace.”

Dream cleared his throat. “It’s just that there was a problem back home. With, uh, with my family. Specifically my older sister. Maddie’s mum. She and her wife adopted Maddie when she was eight. She’d been in the foster system since she was three, and we have no idea what her life was like before that. Maddie says she doesn’t remember anything before foster care. Anyway… about, um, six months ago, I think? My sister and her wife went on, like, a night out or something, and I was looking after Maddie for them. And, um… god, I can’t believe I’m actually talking about this. Ohh, fuck.” The blond took a few moments to calm his breathing before carrying on. “There, um, there was an accident. My sister and her wife, they… they had a crash. Well, someone crashed into their car on the way back.” Another pause. “And, they, um… they died.”

George was speechless. He couldn’t believe Dream had gone through all that and still seemed to be a fully-functioning person. Losing a sister? The brunet didn’t know how he’d coped. 

“Oh my god, Dream, I… I’m so sorry .”

Dream chuckled under his breath. “I know that you mean well, George, but you don’t need to like, apologise, or try to comfort me, or anything. It never works. I just… I just needed to tell you that. Well, I didn’t need to, but I wanted to. You’ve been so kind to me, so understanding, so patient, and I… well, I trust you. So, there. That’s what happened.”

George wasn’t really sure what to say. Of course he’d had his fair share of family deaths, but he’d never lost someone so close to him as a sister . He could empathise to a certain extent, but not fully. 

“And I’m guessing that’s why Maddie lives with you, then?”

The blond nodded. “I was always really close to Maddie, ever since they adopted her. I fucking love kids, and I’d definitely like to have some of my own one day. It just… kind of made sense, y’know, that I’d take her in. My parents have enough on their hands to start raising another kid, goddamnit. And I have two younger siblings, a brother and a sister, but neither of them are old enough to look after a whole ass child. So, naturally, it fell onto me. And, I mean, I’m okay with that. I’m more than okay with that. Like I’ve said before, Maddie’s great, and I’ve had a blast living with her. I just hate that it’s had to be under these circumstances, y’know?”

“Yeah, I understand what you mean,” George said. “And, I guess you could argue that you didn’t have any other choice, but I think it was really brave of you to take Maddie in like that. I can’t even imagine how difficult it must’ve been for you, plus having to take care of a kid on top of it allI don’t think I would’ve been able to manage.”

“Well, I mean, it gave me something to distract myself with,” Dream answered. “With Maddie around, it gave me something else to focus on. Something I could put all my time and energy into without having to constantly think about what happened.”

“But, Dream…” George began, but trailed off before he could finish. If Dream had been spending all this time looking after Maddie, had he allowed himself to properly mourn? And was it right of George to ask him such a personal question? “What about you? What have you been doing to help yourself? I mean, have you even given yourself time to grieve?”

At his words, the brunet saw glossy tears start to fill Dream’s eyes, and suddenly, he wished he’d never asked. “I… I don’t know,” Dream admitted with a shaky voice. “I thought—I thought that, maybe, if I made sure that Maddie was doing okay, that she felt safe and that she was, y’know, somewhat happy, then I’d end up feeling better too.”

“And did it work?” George asked, although he was afraid that he already knew the answer.

Unsurprisingly, Dream shook his head. “No, I—I don’t think it did.”

Tears started to fall, then—not quickly, like a waterfall, but slow and sparse, like the beginnings of what could end up being a torrential thunderstorm. George could tell that Dream was trying to stop himself from crying, but it obviously wasn’t working, and the brunet reached over the table and placed his hand over theirs to try and provide some form of comfort. He squeezed gently, and couldn’t help but smile when Dream turned his hand around and linked their fingers together.

“I’m sorry,” Dream said, taking a few deep breaths. “I didn’t want to—um, I didn’t want to start crying there.”

George let out a loud breath. “Dream, are you kidding me? Why would you want to stop yourself from crying? Crying is the best thing you can do in a situation like this. The longer you allow your emotions to stay bottled up, the worse you’ll feel in the long run.”

Dream nodded, and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. “I know. I know. I’m sorry. I’m just a little overwhelmed.”

“It’s completely fine to be overwhelmed,” George assured him. “And I want you to stop apologising for your feelings. You have absolutely nothing to apologise for. Okay? ”

The small laugh that escaped Dream’s lips made George feel instantly happier. “Okay. I—I’ll stop.”

“And… I don’t think you need to worry too much about Maddie,” the brunet added.

Dream looked up at him. “Why not? Her parents died, George.”

“I—I know, okay?” George said quickly. “Just—just let me give you a bit of an anecdote. It might seem really irrelevant, but—just hear me out.”

“I will.”

“Okay, so… when I was a teenager, um, I think I was seventeen? Um, no, it was, like, less than a month before my seventeenth birthday. I was in my first year of college. Anyway… one of my close family members died. My cousin. He was eighteen, and he’d just gone up north to study for university. He hanged himself in his dorm room. He had a younger sister, who had just turned thirteen, like Maddie. His death completely fucked up our family, and even after his death, things kept getting worse. Because, he killed himself, right? Which should be a suicide, right? Well, the coroner couldn’t rule his death as a suicide, because he was high as a kite on ketamine when he died. The coroner couldn’t determine whether he actually wanted to die, because the ket was most definitely warping his perception of reality and could’ve been making him hallucinate and stuff. All that might seem irrelevant to what you and Maddie are going through, but my point is… we found out about his death on the Thursday. His sister went back to school on the Monday . Two days and a weekend before she started getting back into her normal habits. And she wasn’t forced to go back, either; she chose to. So, my point is… kids are fucking strong, man. They’re tough, and hardy, and to a certain extent, they can be quick to recover from anything. So I don’t think you need to worry so much about Maddie. As long as she knows that you’re there for her, and that she can go to you for support if she ever needs it, then I think she’ll be okay. You, on the other hand… Dream I really don’t think allowing yourself to ignore your grief is a good idea. The fact that you’ve spoken to me tonight is a step in the right direction, but it’s definitely not enough. Is that wrong of me to say? I don’t know. But I’m only saying this, because… well, because I care about you. A lot. And I want you to be okay. But I don’t think you can be okay if you keep pushing your emotions away.”

Dream blinked a few times, seemingly trying to process all the information George had just thrown onto him. “Wow, that was… that was a lot . But, um, thank you for sharing all that with me. And, yeah, I guess you’re right. Maddie wouldn’t be doing as well as she is right now if she wasn’t so resilient. But, about me… I mean, what do you suggest I do? Go to, like, therapy or something?”

George smiled. “Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

“Well, I’ll think about it,” Dream told him. “But, uh, thank you. For, y’know… letting me talk about all that.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Dream. That’s what I’m here for, remember?” 

George only just remembered they were still holding hands when Dream began to stroke his thumb along his skin. “God, what did I do to deserve you?” the blond said, which seemed like a rhetorical question, but George still felt the need to answer.

“Probably nothing. But I guess that, sometimes, people just get lucky.”

“I feel really lucky right now,” Dream said. “Maybe you were the apology the earth wanted to give me for fucking my life up so royally. Maybe you were the present I got.”

“Dream,” George answered, feeling his face start to heat up. “I’m pretty sure you might be thinking a little too dramatically there.”

The blond shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t care. It feels right to me.”

George didn’t really know what to say to that. The look in Dream’s eyes was so sincere, so heartfelt and honest, and if he was being honest, the brunet was a little intimidated by it. He felt like he was standing on a cliff next to an ocean, where even just the slightest gust of wind would be enough to send him hurtling down to the icy waters below. Hopefully Dream wouldn’t end up becoming that wind. 

Their night carried on as any of their nights normally would: them carrying on chatting, joking around, eating more food and simply enjoying each other’s company. But when it started getting late, and Dream had to leave to go and pick Maddie up from whatever activity she’d been participating in that evening, George found himself desperate to ask the blond to stay. Or at least come back once Maddie was safely back home. When Dream finally stepped out and the brunet locked the door behind him, the house suddenly felt a lot more empty now he was alone. Dream’s presence filled a hole in his life he didn’t even know existed, and every time the two of them parted, that hole seemed to grow larger. George had never met a person that he’d become so attached to so quickly, and he hoped that the progress they’d made that night would help to bring them even closer. 

——————————

After their night of confessions, there wasn’t a day that went by where Dream and George didn’t see each other.

It looked like them opening up to each other had in fact helped to bring them closer, so much so that the two of them couldn’t last a day without seeing each other’s faces. Whether it was a small meeting, such as Dream dropping off a portion of sausage and mushroom ragu to George’s front door that he’d made for his and Maddie’s dinner, or a whole day spent together, like the time George took Dream and Maddie into Central London to visit all the popular tourist attractions, the two men were spending more time together than they ever had done before. They’d been next door neighbours for almost three months, and it was actually kind of scary how much they seemed to be attached to each other.

The climax of their strange will-we/won’t-we ambiguously romantic relationship occurred on a normal weekday evening, while Maddie was sleeping soundly upstairs, with the two of them sitting in front of the fireplace in Dream’s living room sipping glasses of red wine. 

Dream had slow-cooked a chicken casserole for the three of them beforehand, and when Maddie had gone to bed, that’s when they pulled out the wine bottle.

“Cabernet Sauvignon,” Dream said with a smile, handing one of the glasses to George. “It’s one of my favourites.”

George took a sip from the glass, swirling the liquid around for a few seconds before swallowing. “It’s good,” he said. “Exactly how much did a bottle of this cost?”

“Way too much,” Dream said with a grin. “But, only the best for you, am I right?”

“Shut up,” George said, looking down at his knees as his cheeks turned pink. “You’re so weird.”

“I think you like it, though,” Dream pointed out. “I mean, look at you; your face is basically the same colour as the wine.”

“Oh my god, stop! ” George cried. “Why do you love embarrassing me so much?” 

Dream smirked. “I’m not trying to embarrass you. I’m just speaking my mind. Also, you look really cute when you blush, so, y’know, sometimes I can’t help it.”

The blond’s words made George’s face heat up even more. “How much wine have you drank tonight, Dream?” he asked, trying to move the focus of the conversation over to them. “I swear you’re not normally this… this…”

“This what , George?” Dream prompted. 

George sighed. “This… flirty .”

With a low chuckle, Dream took a sip of his wine. “I had a glass before you got here,” he said. “A big glass. Also, I had some during dinner, remember? Not gonna lie, I haven’t drank in a while, and it might’ve affected me a bit more than I was expecting.”

“So that’s why you’re acting so weird, I’m guessing,” George said, drinking slowly from his glass.”

“I’m not being weird,” Dream said bluntly. “I’m being honest.” He looked George straight in the eye. “I think you look cute when you blush. In fact, I think you look cute all the time.”

George had to avert his eyes from Dream’s face to avoid the man seeing his disappointment. “You… you don’t mean that.”

“Who says I don’t mean it?” Dream said. His tone was annoyingly calm and controlled, and it should’ve been the exact opposite seeing as he was definitely a little drunk.

“ I say so,” George said adamantly. “You’re… you’re drunk, Dream. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

Out of the corner of his eye, the brunet saw the other man shake his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, George. I know exactly what I’m saying.” He took another sip of his drink. “Just because I might be a little drunk, which is stupid by the way… I’m tipsy, at best… that doesn’t mean that suddenly I’ve lost all my senses. I’m not an idiot.”

“I know you’re not an idiot,” George corrected. “I’m not calling you an idiot. I just need you to calm down.”

“Calm down?” Dream said with a scoff. “I am calm. What do you mean? Am I not allowed to call you cute, George?”

“ Dream ,” George warned. “I—I don’t—oh my god.” Hearing the blond say those words was making his brain short-circuit; he was struggling to put into words everything he was thinking and feeling, and if he was honest, he didn’t really understand all the emotions flying through him right then. For way too long, he’d been wanting to hear Dream say things like that to him, but the blond’s words felt too mocking and insincere for him to be able to believe them. Dream had drank two and a half glasses of wine, for god’s sake. “Please… please don’t say things you don’t really mean.” Maybe he was being dramatic, but he didn’t care. He knew Dream was fond of him, and he’d been suspecting for a while that Dream’s feelings for him were just as strong as his feelings for them, but he didn’t want the blond to confess like this , half drunk on expensive wine with a dumb smirk on his face that almost looked sneering. 

All of a sudden, Dream placed his wine glass down on the coffee table. “Put your glass down,” the man ordered, and George did as he was told, putting the cup down on the surface next to Dream’s. “Now turn and look at me.” With a deep breath, George swivelled round to face his neighbour, who was sitting a lot closer to him now than he had been when they first took their seats. Their knees were touching, and Dream’s hands were placed on his lower things in a way that made George think the blond was expecting him to take them. 

George didn’t.

So, Dream reached out and took George’s hands instead. He laced their fingers together and repeated what he’d done when they last held hands—he stoked his thumbs soothingly along the skin, sending shockwaves of energy up George’s arms as they moved.

“Look at me,” he repeated, and slowly George moved his gaze upwards and caught Dream’s eyes. The burning embers of the fire made his virescent eyes shine even brighter than usual, and with the passionate stare he was giving George, the brunet felt like he was about to burn up along with the fire. “Can you just let me talk for a minute?”

George nodded, because he really did want to hear what his neighbour had to say.

“Listen to me. Please , just, listen to me, okay? Properly listen to me.” Dream carried on stroking the backs of George’s hands as he spoke. “I know that, yes, maybe I’ve had a bit too much to drink tonight, but I’m not drunk , George. I still have a clear mind. I can still think properly. And do you know what I’m thinking right now?” He took a deep breath. “I think that you’re beautiful . In every way. You’re attractive, you’re charming, you’re hilarious, you’re kind… you’re everything . I could sit here for hours listing every positive adjective I can think of, because they’d all apply to you. I wish I could’ve found the courage to tell you all this sooner, but we had such a good thing going, and I didn’t wanna ruin it. And, yeah, maybe it is the alcohol giving me the confidence to talk about this now, but I really don’t give a shit. Maybe I’ll end up regretting all this in the morning, but like I said, I don’t care. You’re beautiful, George. You’re beautiful . God, I love being able to say that out loud.”

George’s heart was beating at a hundred miles an hour. After so many weeks of yearning, Dream was finally telling him everything he wanted to hear. And maybe George was naïve, but he believed the blond about the alcohol; he wouldn’t have been able to talk normally if he was totally drunk, and who cared if the liquor was giving him an assurance boost? It was only helping them in the long run.

Unfortunately, George had never been good with words the way that Dream was, and his brain had chosen that exact moment to completely shut down.

“Dream, I… I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, although the beaming smile on his face must’ve been a good enough indicator to the other man that his speechlessness was coming from a place of happiness rather than un happiness.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Dream assured him. “Just… do something for me, will you?”

“What?” George asked, still smiling wide as ever.

Dream tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth. “Stay the night,” he said. “You’ve never slept here before, and I want you to do that tonight.”

“But… Dream, you don’t have a spare room,” George reminded him. “The third bedroom is your office, remember?”

“You can just sleep with me,” Dream suggested, then immediately realised the connotations of what he’d just said. “God, I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that, I promise. Just… please stay, Georgie.”

Georgie. The nickname made George smile even wider. “It’s a weeknight, Dream. And I don’t have any spare clothes. Are you sure this is a good idea?”

“Aren’t you basically just self-employed?” Dream asked. “You can clock into work whenever you want. Also, I’ll just give you some of my clothes to sleep in. You don’t have to worry.”

George sighed. “Fine. I’ll… I’ll stay.”

And that was how Dream and George ended up lying face to face in the blond’s bed on a Wednesday night. 

Dream had provided him with a grey hoodie and some red and black checkered sleep bottoms, and the clothes absolutely buried him. George loved how big the items looked on him, and they were also exceptionally comfortable, meaning that he felt extra cozy snuggled under Dream’s covers with the man’s gorgeous face smiling over at him.

“I really wanna kiss you right now,” Dream said, with nothing but adoration filling his tone.

“Absolutely not,” George said immediately, although it must’ve been obvious to Dream that he wanted that just as much as he did. “Not while you’re half drunk. In the morning, maybe.”

The blond stuck his bottom lip out in an adorable imitation of a pout, and George giggled at his childishness. “You’re such a tease, George.” 

“Shut up and go to sleep, Dream,” George said with a smirk, staying laid on his side as he snuggled further into the bed. He shut his eyes, and hoped that in the morning he would find that Dream’s arms had magically found their way around his body. 

——————————

When morning came, it seemed like George’s wish had come true.

Opening his eyes slowly, he let out a yawn, and for a minute he almost forgot that he wasn’t in his own bed. But when he became able to focus on white curtains instead of blue, on cream walls instead of grey, a strong arm draped around his waist and a firm chest pressed against his back, he was immediately reminded of whose bed he was currently lying in.

Dream’s bed.

He smiled to himself, breathing quietly as he contemplated where they were supposed to go now. The obvious next step was a relationship, but were they really ready for that? Dream had said himself that there was an imminent risk of ruining their friendship, but how would they ever know if they didn’t take the risk? 

Just as he was about to turn around, George felt the other man stir behind him. Dream’s arm tightened slightly around George’s middle, and in a surprisingly abrupt act of intimacy, he placed a kiss on the back of George’s neck. 

“Dream?” George asked quietly, and felt butterflies flutter in his stomach when Dream smiled against him. 

“Hey,” the man replied in a gravelly morning voice, one so deep that it turned George’s fluttering stomach to jelly. “How did you sleep?”

“Amazing,” George said. “I didn’t wake up once.”

The blond. “Good,” he said. “Turn around, darling.”

George did as he was told, choosing to ignore how much the word ‘darling’ affected him. Dream had a sleepy grin on his face, his eyes barely open but delighted all the same.

“Hey,” George said, reaching a hand up to Dream’s face to brush a stray hair from his forehead.

“Hi,” Dream answered, and the two of them giggled at their pleasantries. “I, uh, I think I forgot to put my alarm on.” He glanced over at a clock on the wall. “So I’m gonna need to get up for work soon. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” George assured him. “I’m guessing you need to wake Maddie up as well, right?” 

“Oh, no, she’ll already be up,” Dream said. “She likes to set her own alarm on a morning. Something about being independent.”

“I told you she’d be fine,” George answered.

Dream rolled his eyes. “Okay, can we please stop talking about my niece and start talking about that kiss you promised me last night?”

George couldn’t help but laugh at the man’s confidence. “You never give up, do you?”

“Nope,” Dream said. “You already know how much I want to kiss you, though. It’s up to you if you want to go through with it.”

As if George was going to pass up on an opportunity like that. “You’re such an idiot,” he said fondly, before he closed the gap between the two of them and finally connected their lips. 

George had been fantasising about kissing Dream for the majority of the time they’d known each other, and the real thing thankfully lived up to all his expectations. Dream’s lips were beautifully soft and warm, and it was euphoric finally being able to feel them sliding against his own. When their mouths opened and their tongues met, George let out a contented sigh that was swallowed by the other man, and he loved the way that Dream held his waist while they explored each other’s mouths.

Soon they both began to run out of breath, and when they pulled apart, they couldn’t help but laugh at the reality of what was happening. After three months of dancing around each other and emotions, they’d finally taken the leap, and it seemed like all their efforts were about to pay off.

“God, you’ve got no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Dream admitted. 

“No, I definitely do,” George told him. “I was just too insecure to do it.”

“Me too, I guess,” Dream said. “I wanted to make sure you were actually into me before I made a proper move on you.”

“Wow, how kind of you,” George said sarcastically. “What a total gentleman.”

“Shut up,” Dream said affectionately, and was just about to lean in and kiss George again when the two of them heard footsteps coming down the hall.

“Wait, is that—” George began, but was interrupted by the blond.

“It’s Maddie,” Dream said, confirming George’s suspicions. “Quick, hide!” he exclaimed, and before George could react, Dream was throwing the covers over his head and submerging him underneath the sheets. ‘Perfect timing’ would’ve been an understatement to Dream’s reaction, because seconds later George heard the door swing open.

Good job Dream’s body is covering my silhouette, George thought to himself, because if their sides were reversed George’s presence would’ve been painfully obvious. 

“Why aren’t you up yet?” he heard Maddie ask.

“I, uh, I forgot to set my alarm,” Dream quickly said. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

“Okay. Do you want me to make you something for breakfast?” 

“No, don’t worry, I’ll sort everything out.”

“Dream,” Maddie said sternly, “tell me what you want for breakfast.”

George couldn’t see the man’s face, but he would’ve bet money on him rolling his eyes at that moment. “Some toast will be just fine. Thanks, Mads.”

The girl didn’t say another word, and the covers were pulled back off him once the door had audibly closed. 

“I can’t believe you just did that,” George said as he sat up on the bed.

“What, would you rather her have seen you lying in bed with me?” Dream asked judgmentally. “Because that wouldn’t have been my first choice.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely right.” George leaned over and kissed Dream’s cheek before standing up. “Now, are you actually going to get ready for work now?”

“Ugh, fine,” Dream said, sighing in defeat as he rolled out of bed. “But I think we need to address the extremely serious issue of how we’re going to sneak you out of the house with Maddie downstairs.”

George shrugged. “I mean, we don’t have to sneak me out. It’s fine. Just tell Maddie that I slept over.”

“George, we only have two beds in the house. She’ll ask where you slept, and then we’re fucked .”

“Oh god, yeah, I didn’t think about that,” George said. “What should we do?”

Dream slowly started making his way over to where George was standing at the edge of the bed. “I’m sure we could figure something out after a few more kisses.”

“You really just can’t get enough, can you?” George teased, placing his hands on Dream’s chest once the man had approached. Dream gripped George’s waist gently, and slowly glided his hands around to the small of his back.

“No,” he said. “I can’t.”

And when their lips met for the second time, George felt blessed with the knowledge that his gorgeous next door neighbour wanted him just as much as he wanted them.