Work Text:
“Dream.”
The blond boy didn’t look up from his keyboard, headphones fitted snugly over his ears. He probably had some sort of game soundtrack blasting, peppy and bright against the December twilight.
George was seated on the couch, legs pulled up to his chest, his phone resting on his knees. He’d been texting people on and off, waiting for Dream to finish editing so he could ask for his help, but the nimrod was taking for-fucking-ever arranging the last few clips.
He bit his lip and tried again. “Dream.”
Dream straightened, pushing one side of the headphones off his ear. “Hm?”
“I need to ask a favor.”
“What do you need?”
“I need to make someone jealous.”
Dream cocked an eyebrow. “Go on…?”
The words--pre-planned--spilled off George’s tongue, molten. “There’s this guy I’ve been Snapchatting--”
“Whoa, hold on, a guy?”
It was George’s turn to make a face. “A guy, yes.”
Dream’s expression neutralized. “Sorry. Continue.”
“We’ve been seeing each other casually for a few weeks, got coffee, drinks. He came over the other day while you were with Drista.” George picked a little where the nap on the couch was pilling. “We’re not exclusive, though, and the asshole keeps posting pictures of him on other dates, y’know, two places set at the table, or in a hotel room with two glasses of champagne.”
“And I come in, where, Georgie?”
“I need...a picture to really piss him off.” His blue eyes glinted. “Show him what he’s missing.”
Dream put both hands on the desk and rolled the chair toward the couch. “What did you have in mind?”
“Would you...come here?”
Dream obligingly stood, slipping his headphones all the way off and leaving them on the desk. He took George’s extended hand, and George, heart fluttering, pulled the taller man over top of him until they were laying chest to chest.
Dream let out a soft ‘oof’ as George brought his hand and tucked it over his own shoulder.
“My idea,” he said, watching the taller boy start to flush pink at the proximity, “is that we take a selfie.”
“A--a selfie?” Dream breathed, sounding almost winded.
“Mhm,” George said. “Tuck your face right into my shoulder, princess, so all he’ll see is my hand in your pretty blond hair.”
Dream’s eyes blazed at the pet name, but he did as George asked, hiding his face in his friend’s collar. George brought one hand up, up, up Dream’s back and, as promised, twined his fingers into his hair. He swung his phone up over both of them, and snapped the photo.
/save to memories/
/are you sure you want to abandon your snapsterpiece?/
“You can come up now,” George said, with a hint of a smile in his voice. “Thanks for helping me out, sweetheart.”
There was no mistaking it, Dream was as red as a cherry. “Anytime,” he squeaked.
~ - ~ - ~ - ~
A few days later, they were back in the same spots, George tucked into the couch and Dream, eyebrows furrowed, editing like the channel depended on it (It probably did. That fucker barely evers uploads).
George waited a little longer this time, before letting his sighs get louder, longer, and more peeved. Dream slipped off his headphones of his own accord, this time.
“Something up?”
George did his best not to over-emphasize his pout. “He’s on a picnic. ”
Dream tilted his head inquisitively. “In December?”
Shit. Fuck. Shit.
“In Hawaii !” George moaned, hoping his on-the-spot lie sounded convincing.
“Disgusting.”
“We need to up the ante.” George said, sitting up as if he’d been struck by inspiration. “C’mere.”
Dream walked over, willingly, but George only took his hand and led them both down the hall, to the bathroom mirror. He stepped in front of Dream, moving his phone back and forth, up and down, trying to find an angle that would block out Dream’s face. No such luck.
“You’re gonna have to snuggle up to me,” George whispered, watching Dream go pink again. He leaned backward, slightly, into the solidity of Dream’s chest. Obligingly, Dream brought his arms to George’s sides--and immediately dropped them.
That would never do.
“It’s okay, Dream.” George said, biting his cheek to hide his grin. “You can touch me.”
Hesitantly, Dream raised his arms again, this time placing his hands ever so lightly on George’s waist.
“More,” George said, and this close to the taller boy, he could feel Dream’s heart pick up the pace, but he wrapped both arms securely around George’s midriff.
“I still can’t hide your face,” George breathed, absorbing the feeling of being held, feeling soft, and secure, and warm.
“I...have an idea.” and Dream bent forward, again hiding his face in George’s neck. From this angle, Dream’s hair tickled George’s collarbone, and he could feel warm, steady breath on his neck.
Just before he snapped the picture, George felt soft lips press just under his ear.
Holy shit.
That had not been part of the plan.
His hand instinctively pressed the camera button as his face flooded with heat. At the snap of the camera, Dream looked up, catching George’s eye in the mirror.
His voice was low, sultry. “Think that one’ll get him?”
“Yeah,” George breathed, heart racing. “I think that one’ll do it.”
~ - ~ - ~ - ~
Days passed, melting into weeks, and George couldn’t bring himself to stage another photo, not since Dream had turned the tables so badly on him last time. Dream, for his part, seemed to think the exchange over, George’s boo thang successfully reined in and appropriately committed.
When, in fact, nothing could’ve been further from the truth.
Life moved along as normal for a while, as it should between roommates, with no lingering touches or anything spoken in an undertone.
Until Dream decided to ruin it all, during movie night.
The film--a household staple they’d both seen before and had mainly put on for comfort purposes--was playing in the background. Dream, sprawled beside George, bowl of popcorn in his lap, decided to use his annoying height advantage to look over the shorter boy’s shoulder. George--as always--had Snapchat open, responding to one of the many muffin groupchats.
“Sapnap, Bad, Karl, Quackity, Corpse…” Dream read off his contact lists, eyes scanning down before George thought to yank the phone out of his line of sight. “No more boy toy, after all that work? What was his name, anyway?”
George turned his head and met the most meltingly inquisitive eyes he’d ever seen, pure and clear, and...narrowing at him in suspicion the longer he held his tongue.
“Um…” He exhaled, unable to look away.
Dream sounded stunned. “George? What was his name?”
“He--” George bit his lip, looking down, at the popcorn, at the lead actress, anywhere but Dream’s eyes. He could feel Dream’s gaze on his face as it heated.
“You don’t mean…” Dream’s hand moved up and caught George under the chin, forcing the boy to look at him. “ George .”
“He wasn’t real.” George squeaked. “I...can explain.”
He took a breath, trying to collect his thoughts. Everything was so scattered, with Dream’s damn distracting hand still holding his face.
“I can’t explain.”
Dream’s eyes were alight. “Confess, then.”
George raised his gaze to meet Dream’s shining eyes. “I wanted you. I want you. I--” he took a breath. “Picnic dates. Dinner dates. Instagram posts and Snapchat stories. Nicknames so sweet they make our friends sick. I want you, Dream.”
“C’mere, you idiot.”
Dream drew their faces even closer together, tantalizing, making George wait and anticipate, until he pressed cherry lips to the other boy’s mouth. Warm hands stole onto George’s back, slipping under his shirt to touch flaming skin. Dream moved forward, pressing their chests together and moving George back on the couch, until they were laying in a mimicry of their first selfie together.
The kiss was the kind to make any boy jealous, except that there was no need.
George was taken, at last.