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“That’s not what you said last night.”
“I’m well aware of what I said, that shouldn’t count.”
“Then I win,” George let his laughter seep into his voice, spinning in his computer chair as he chanted, “I win, I win, I win!”
Dream’s scoff and half-assed excuses resonating through his headphones were more than enough reward, but he wasn’t about to let Dream know that. He got too much of a thrill seeing him break a sweat over their silly little bets.
“Okay, how about this, when you get here, we’ll order in whatever you want.” Dream’s voice sounded genuine, laced with a singsong playfulness he reserved only for George.
“Anything I want?”
“Anything you want.”
George stopped his celebratory spinning to glance at his parent’s desktop monitor full of open tabs, unclosed documents, and most importantly, a big window in the middle containing a dirty-blond with a shit eating grin plastered across his face.
“Deal.” The promised gamble would have gotten George upgraded to first class if Dream fell asleep. He had insisted on them pulling an all-nighter together before the early morning flight, vowing to outlast his exhaustion to make sure George made it to the airport.
George remembered with fondness how peaceful Dream had looked, mouth slack with a tiny slip of drool staining a dark patch on his pillowcase, eyes fluttering with unseen dreams. He’d let him rest for a couple hours while he finished packing the last of his old room at his parent’s house where he’d been staying for a few weeks before the big move. It had taken six facetime calls to wake Dream up again, but he had perked right up after realizing the bet he’d lost.
“You have to leave soon right? Especially if you want to catch that first early train.” The furrow between Dream’s brows which appeared when he asked questions he didn’t know the answer to was on full display. George thought it looked especially cute when he was drowsy, the questions extra serious voiced through the leftover gravel of sleepy vocal cords.
“Yes, I know.” Words heavy with dry sarcasm, George was used to the particular attention to detail Dream favored. “Thank you for the tenth reminder, definitely wouldn’t make it without you.”
“You’re welcome.” The furrow disappeared and was replaced with the start of crows feet from the cheeky grin that reached Dream’s eyes.
“You’re right though, I should get ready to take off. I’ll let you know when I get checked in.”
“Yes, call me before you board! I’ll be awake.” His confidence in his ability to keep sleep at bay was at odds with the yawn that snuck its way out of his mouth.
“Sure you will.” George winked and kept the call on just long enough to see the pink flare of blush grace Dream’s cheeks.
The silence that followed was palpable. Sure, he could hear his mom fumbling with the coffee machine in the kitchen, and his dad ambling around somewhere upstairs, but it made no difference. It was just that Dream was his normal after years of several hour long calls each day, even if they were just sitting quietly together.
Sighing, George stretched his arms behind his head before rubbing his eyes. He had a long day of travel ahead of him. It was the shortest route they could get from London to Orlando, but 4,336 miles were no easy feat to traverse.
It felt like a lifetime ago that they had made the arrangements.
“You? Make an 8:00am flight? Unlikely.”
“It’ll be fine, my sleep schedule will probably be fucked up anyways.” George brushed it off with his usual joking tone.
“Doesn’t mean you’d make a morning flight.” Dream mumbled, looking distracted. His sage green eyes were illuminated by the glow of his monitor, flitting back and forth as he assessed various flight options. “It is the fastest though. Wouldn’t want you traveling for longer than you have to, especially if COVID numbers go back up.”
George watched him for a moment, pausing his own search for flights as he admired that intent look Dream got when he was really focusing on something. His mouth was parted slightly, baby pink lips bitten raw in places- a nervous habit of his.
As he was noticing the dark pink patches, Dream folded his bottom lip inward and caught it with sharp ivory, nibbling gently at one shining corner. His eyes were still glazed over, unconcerned with the assault his teeth were waging.
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?” Dream looked up from his search, eyes flitting toward where George assumed his own face was on the monitor.
“Biting your lip.”
Dream stuck his freshly-gnawed lip out exaggeratedly, resulting in a pout that had no right being as appealing as it was before he replied, “No I wasn’t.”
“Liar.”
“Nope, see.” He puckered his lips, pushing them out as far as they could go.
“Mm, still a liar.” George stuck his lips out mockingly in return and leaned closer to the camera. “This is what non-bitten lips look like.”
It wasn’t easy to ignore the way Dream openly stared at them, his profile alight with a smile. George glanced down at his hands then back at the screen, unconsciously hiding his blush.
“Whatever. Idiot.” Dream remarked, followed by an all too familiar lopsided grin.
Their banter could go on for hours when left unchecked. Which it frequently did, time flying by as they played games, watched shows, planned content, or just talked.
When George didn’t respond, and the silence perpetuated for a beat too long, Dream cleared his throat and turned his attention back to the flight options. “Let’s just get these tickets booked.”
George hadn’t meant to leave him hanging, but had gotten thrown off guard by Dream’s staring. He’d been doing that more lately- spending more time than most people would looking at George’s face on his display. Dream had dismissed it as something any friend would do, but George wondered if he’d meant it or if it was just to save face.
“Fine. But quit biting your lip.”
Thinking back on it, George isn’t sure why the memory stuck. There hadn’t been anything particularly memorable about buying the tickets. They’d talked enough about their plans that it wasn’t exactly a novel experience.
Really, the memory wasn’t much about the tickets at all. It had been a peculiar kind of night, the first of many. George caught Dream staring more than once. Even more peculiar, he caught himself blushing in response, face growing hot and palms breaking into a light sweat.
Even more distinct was how vulnerable George had felt.
He was always careful - no, not just careful - precise about what emotions he shared and when. His reality was meticulously blanketed in a thick lining of mostly genuine giddiness and jests, brash innuendos and fiery comebacks.
Especially when it came to showing affection.
But that night, he’d felt himself retreat from his cocoon of protection where he held himself at arms length from others. Perhaps it was the way Dream didn’t seem ashamed to look, to admire. Rather he basked in it, happy and unbothered.
After all, embracing vulnerability encourages others to be vulnerable, too.
And nothing could shake the pure excitement Dream emanated when they finalized the plans and started the official countdown. He was genuinely, wholeheartedly, undeniably overjoyed, and he kept saying so, over and over.
“I can’t wait to see you, George.”
Dream had always been better with sharing how he was feeling, and that night hadn’t been any different in that sense. It was difficult to put into words, but something about it felt uncommon.
Something shifted.
He could still feel that same love, same affection Dream frequented. But it felt less like being asked to come visit and more like being told to come home. Like George not only belonged in the same house; he belonged with Dream.
The way Dream spoke about it, George believed it too.
---
One car, train, and check-in kiosk later, George stood alone at the entrance of the security checkpoint. He had said his goodbyes to his parents at the train station, and insisted his friends not come to see him off. It was too early for that, and they’d said their farewells in their own ways already.
All he had to his name at that moment was the backpack on his shoulders, the clothes on his back, a phone clutched in sweaty hands, and a stomach full of butterflies. Glancing around before stepping into line, George unlocked his phone and opened his messages.
Checked in
About to go through security
Good
Long line?
Not really, I’m early
Perfect
Not even you could fuck that up
I won’t
I can take my butterfly knife with me right?
What? No
You’re such an idiot
George smirked, pleased with Dream’s reaction. The word bubbles had barely disappeared before his lighthearted derision.
“Next in line.”
Almost dropping his phone in his haste, George scrambled to pull up his electronic boarding pass to give to the security agent.
“Pull your mask down for just a moment.” The demand was brisk and monotone.
“What? Oh-” The last time he’d flown there hadn’t been COVID restrictions. George didn’t want to think of how much sooner he would have made the journey otherwise.
He moseyed his way through the line, removing his shoes and discarding his phone into a security bin as instructed by the too-loud agents. George fiddled with his mask, accidentally catching the eye of a tall blond man on the other side of the scanner.
The man glanced downward, mapping the briefest of trails down George’s body with his eyes. It wasn’t fast enough to evade notice. Dodging his gaze, George ran a hand through his hair before stepping forward through the detector.
Raising his arms above his head as instructed, George felt the slightest nip of air at his abdomen where his shirt rose above the waistline of his sweatpants. Self-conscious, he lowered his arms as quickly as he could once the man beckoned him through.
“I’m going to have check between your shoulder blades.” The agent took a step closer. George’s breath hitched in his throat.
“Th-that’s fine.”
His hands were warm. Sturdy. Gentle. The assessment was over before it started.
“You’re good to go.” He winked as he nodded George onwards before beckoning the next traveler through.
George hurried to gather his things, slipping on his shoes and stuffing his laptop back in his bag. No matter how many looks he’d gotten from guys like the security agent before, he couldn’t shake the overwhelming urge to crawl into a hole and stay there until the next ice age was over.
It wasn’t even that he wasn’t attractive.
No, he found guys like that plenty attractive. Tall, confident, probably capable of sweeping him off his feet (literally and figuratively), and even more adept at effortless flirting.
It was that he already had a guy like that. A guy he would be seeing in less than 24 hours, if all went well.
George thought of calling Dream then and there, letting him know he’d made it through without a hitch. Mostly out of habit, but also because he wanted to.
He always wanted to.
Got busted going through security
Told you they’d pop you for the butterfly knife
Had to get patted down
Security agent reminded me of you
Why, was he abnormally good looking?
Close
Abnormally annoying
Just your type ;)
The giggle that slipped from his mouth tasted like sunlight. It was his type, because his type was Dream, and Dream was annoying as hell, but he’d never admit that.
Instead of replying, George took out his headphones and slipped them over his ears before he hit the facetime button. Dream answered before the first ring could finish, face set aglow by the midday Floridian sun. George recognized the couch in the living room beneath him, and could hear the muffled sound of a television in the background.
“They didn’t detain you?” Dream asked in place of a greeting. His voice sounded like melted butter.
“I broke out.” George dissolved into a toothy grin and wrinkled his nose despite Dream not being able to see his delight beneath his mask.
“What’d you do, bat your eyelashes at them?” His chin was tilted up in self-assurance, and he had that honey-dipped glimmer in his eyes he got when he was teasing that made them look more golden than grassy.
“Maybe.” He aggressively fluttered his eyelashes to strengthen his case. He glanced around afterwards to make sure no one had seen him before plopping into a secluded corner at his gate.
Dream’s laugh was sunny and affectionate, eyes crinkled with authenticity. George giggled with him, unable to resist the joyous contagion.
“Not much longer.” It was spoken through a leftover grin. “I can’t wait to see you.”
George admired the way the beams of sunlight made Dream’s freckles stand out, speckles of mousy brown on tanned beige. The tired purple-blue circles beneath his eyes didn’t steal from his beauty.
“I can’t wait either.”
A flicker of apprehension invaded Dream’s expression before he said, “I told Sapnap I wanted to pick you up from the airport.”
“I thought you decided that was too risky?” George hoped his feigned concern was believable.
“It is but… I want to do it.” Dream was purposefully looking anywhere but at his phone, his nerves obviously getting the best of him despite his effort to appear aloof.
George found himself wishing for the umpteenth time they could make eye contact over facetime. Instead, they cycled through an achingly unending dance of one looking at the camera while the other pretended to return their gaze.
“If you insist. You’re the faceless one.”
“Not for much longer. If people find out a little early, so what.” There was actual nonchalance in his demeanor now. They may not be able to make eye contact, but that didn’t stop George from being able to read Dream’s expressions like a book.
“I’ll see you at the airport then.” There was still half an hour until boarding, but the orchestra in full symphony in his stomach didn’t bode well for conversations.
“Yeah, let me know when you board and when you take off. And I think you can get free in-flight texting too, if not you should just get the internet package. I’ll put it on my-”
“Dream. I’ll text you every step alright?” George snickered at Dream’s anxious rambling. It was comforting to know he wasn’t the only one with a raucous tumbling of nerves.
“R-right, yeah. Okay, I’ll talk to you soon!” Dream said his goodbye but failed to exit the call as he often did, instead opting to leave the line open while he went about business as usual.
“Bye.” George tapped the end call button.
Dream would be picking him up at the airport. Holy shit. And he’d be alone ? It had sounded like Sapnap wouldn’t be coming. Giddy, George opened his discord and tapped into messages.
Decided not to third wheel in person?
Fuck off
Can’t wait to see you, dude
Even if I have to third wheel
Bet you wish it were Karl
;)
Fuck. Off.
Well kind of actually, not gonna lie
But no really, I’m glad you’re finally coming!
Dream hasn’t shut up about it for weeks
DNF supremacy
Alright, actually fuck off
George got a little thrill from pissing Sapnap off, and a bigger thrill from hearing that Dream had been talking about him.
The orchestra in his stomach upped the intensity. It was about to be a long flight.
---
Ten hours and five time zones later, George was standing with his suitcases beside him, sweating his ass off outside the Orlando airport. He’d taken his mask off to breathe now that he was in fresh air, which was a relief. But considering how painstakingly Dream had been encouraging George’s punctuality, waiting on a curb for five minutes longer than he should have been wasn’t as enjoyable as it could be.
If he hadn’t already been sweating from the muggy air, he was certain he’d be sweating over how close he was to seeing Dream. How drawn out this wait was wasn’t helping.
George resisted the urge to call again- Dream had said he was coming, that he was right around the corner.
The wait wouldn’t seem so lengthy if George weren’t replaying over and over in his mind what it would be like to finally meet. Would they hug? What if they tried to do different things at the same time? Fuck, what if it was actually awkward?
Considering the amount they’d planned, he wouldn’t be surprised if Dream had plotted out exactly what he was going to do.
Would he… kiss him?
It felt taboo just thinking about it. They definitely hadn’t talked about it, but damn if that wouldn’t be a welcome surprise.
To be fair, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise either. They’d been tiptoeing around outright affection for months, spending even more of their time together and fine-honing their own language of endearment.
They’d even talked about things that they liked in relationships. How they both happened to prefer opposite sides of the bed and no coffee with their breakfast. How their love languages had mapped out and where they were similar and dissimilar. How their past relationships went and how they compared to what they had now.
Whatever it was.
Despite all that talk about relationships, they hadn’t defined theirs.
Which was why even thinking about kissing Dream felt like taboo, regardless of how many signs pointed toward both of them being committed to something more.
“George!”
“Dream?”
George was jolted from his opalesque daydreams by the sound of a voice he’d recognize anywhere. It echoed oddly, no longer filtered by scratchy mics and bandwidth delay.
“George!”
Just as he pinpointed the direction that voice was coming from, he turned and was greeted by a swift force that knocked the air from his lungs and swept him into the air. Long arms were wrapped around his waist locking him close as Dream spun them around, laughing uncontrollably.
“Dream!” George could barely process what was happening. Dream held him tight to his chest, and he did his best to get a grip around the broad shoulders that supported him. His own joyous cackle was muffled by Dream’s chest, but he couldn’t contain his jubilation so he yelled into the soft fabric.
Dizzy with elation and from literally spinning, George kept his hold on Dream when he set him down. Without thinking, he looked up.
And there was Dream, looking back at him.
No amount of facetime could have prepared him for the closeness, the warmth, the solid stability of being held. The way he smelled like fresh laundry and honey shampoo with a hint of mint toothpaste on his breath. The sound of his heart beating steady rhythms against his palms paired with the rise and fall of each full-bellied breath.
Taboo or not, George wanted nothing more than to kiss him at that moment.
Seconds passed.
George watched as Dream scanned his face the same way he was taking in every detail of his. His eyes were a much darker green around the edges, the middle much lighter than they looked on a monitor. They skimmed a course from cheekbone to nose to eyes to mouth, coming to rest for a beat too long on the latter.
Almost unconsciously, George tilted his head forward infinitesimally.
But Dream cleared his throat, and the moment was gone. He held George out at arms length and gave him a little shake.
“You’re really here! Thanks for waiting, I took a wrong turn at the last second and ended up in departures.” He was rambling, but George liked it when he rambled. “I could have made it if I hadn’t resisted the urge to speed, I have enough tickets as it is. Anyway, let me get your bags, don’t forget your backpack!”
“Thanks, which one is your car?” George interrupted before Dream could keep talking.
“Right over here, Nick is waiting there to make sure we don’t get ticketed.”
“Sapnap came?”
“Of course! We had to rock-paper-scissors for who got to go get you first.”
George’s stomach did a strange somersault; he was excited to see Sapnap but disappointed he wouldn’t have Dream to himself for longer.
Right on cue, Sapnap barreled from the car and grabbed him around his arms, squeezing until George groaned for mercy, all while screaming George’s name in one long note.
“Happy to see you too.” George grunted through Sapnap’s death grip.
The car ride home went by in a whirlwind of excited yelps, uncontrollable laughter, and arguing over what to do first. George asserted that he wanted to try American burgers for dinner, while Dream insisted the first thing they’d do would be to tour the dream team room.
Which was fine with George. Unpacking could wait, and there were plenty of other things to keep his mind from wandering toward the unsaid things waiting in limbo between him and Dream.
He was finally with Dream, finally with Sapnap. He was walking through the front door of the house he would be sharing with two of his favorite people, and life couldn’t get any better.
But it could get worse.
“Hi! It’s nice to finally meet you, George. I’ve heard so much about you.”
The voice was high-pitched and melodic, and it was coming from a short woman with onyx black hair and bronze skin.
“Uh, hi.” George was at a loss for words. Who was this person, and should it be nice to meet them? Shouldn’t he have heard about them too, if so?
“George, this is Ari.” Dream rubbed a hand over his forearm, crossing it over his chest as he continued. “My girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” George was frozen to the spot. Each limb felt like it was filled with quicksand, his heart fighting to keep from sinking to unreturnable depths. There was an unexplained ringing in his left ear, and his palms had broken into a clammy sweat.
“Yeah, we’ve been dating for almost two months now?” Dream answered, looking sheepish as he put an arm around her shoulders.
“Two months this Friday!” Ari chirped, looking from Dream to George and back again.
“Nice to meet you.” He still couldn’t move his limbs, but at least his tongue was working.
Sapnap was looking from Dream to George, obviously uncomfortable with the way things were going. Dream was biting his lip with a furrowed brow, avoiding eye contact while George stared pointedly at him.
Ari, who wasn’t nearly as acquainted with their dynamic (and why should she be?) remained oblivious.
“Ari, will you help me bring these to George’s room?” Sapnap nodded toward the luggage and grabbed one, leaving the other for Ari.
“Sure!” She moved to heft the luggage up, teetering it on the edge of her hip to help her maneuver its weight.
George was still staring silently at Dream, who finally looked back at him. Neither spoke until Dream sighed and moved to make his way to the kitchen, reaching behind to grab George’s hand when he saw he wasn’t following.
He dodged the attempt, pulling his hand back, but followed nonetheless. They made their way through the kitchen and to the backyard, George never taking his eyes away from the nape of Dream’s neck.
The tiled patio extended to a set of stone steps that led to a large pool and a marginally smaller hot tub. Under better conditions, the juxtaposition between the cerulean of the water and emerald of the surrounding grass would be breathtaking.
Now, the bright colors paired with the hot air and hotter sun made him sick to his stomach.
“I feel sick.” George mumbled, turning toward the far edge of the patio.
“Want me to get you some water?” Dream asked tentatively, moving to rub a hand across George’s back in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.
“No, no.” His response was barely a murmur as he leaned his elbows on the stone railing lining the area, the unexpectedly warm stone disconcerting. He kept his back turned toward Dream, and let his head hang between his arms.
“What can I do?” The question sounded hopeful.
George laughed despite his queasiness. It was laughter or tears at this point, and there was no way he would let himself cry right now.
“What can you do?” He scoffed, finally turning his head to look at Dream. “You can explain what the fuck is going on?”
Dream looked troubled as he came to stand next to George, mirroring his position on the railing. He was picking at a cuticle on his thumb, another nervous habit of his.
“Well, it’s sort of complicated.”
“What’s complicated about it?” Scarlet anger fueled George’s words, daring Dream to tell the truth regardless of how complicated it was.
“We… Ari and I, we both signed NDA’s. We don’t talk about each other online, or anywhere that has a remote chance of being recorded. For… privacy purposes.” He paused, wringing his hands together in nervous anticipation. “You know how careful I am. Especially with IRL stuff.”
If George’s heart hadn’t been thudding so heavily in his chest he would have sworn it had dropped into his stomach. “IRL stuff? What am I not ‘IRL’ enough for you, is that why I didn’t have to sign an NDA?”
“What? No, George, it’s not like that.” Dream ran his hands through his hair, his sweaty palms flattening out his flyaway locks. “Why would you have to sign an NDA?”
“You know what, forget it.”
“Listen, I know this might come as a shock, but I didn’t think…”
“Obviously.” George wasn’t fond of sharing how he felt on a normal day, let alone trying to interpret the weird amalgamation of betrayal, shame, anger, and jealousy he was feeling all wrapped into a jet-lagged and sleep deprived body.
Dream groaned, plopping his face into his hands. Neither of them spoke for a couple minutes, nor did they make any moves to leave.
Gathering every ounce of his energy, George stood, turning to face Dream as he said, “I’ll be in my room.”
“In your room? What about dinner, do you still want…?”
“I’ll be in my room,” George repeated, voice dull but insistent.
He could feel Dream’s eyes boring holes in the back of his head as he left, and it took everything in his being to not look back.
Dream didn’t try to stop him.
---
The days that were supposed to be the happiest of George’s life quickly turned to some of the most exhausting. Each day was a momentous effort, each moment an unfortunate reality.
Ari was there more often than not, coming over in the mornings and leaving late at night. She was an excellent cook and an even better gamer, with competitiveness to match any of them. Her humor was unique and laughter contagious, and could handle the pressure of high stakes situations. To top it off, she was a good sport about winning and losing, and was always up for trying new things.
It made it really difficult to dislike her.
On the contrary, she was ridiculously likeable. Under any other circumstances, George imagined they would be fast friends.
Meanwhile, it was even more difficult to pretend like anything had changed with Dream. Try as George might to hold his grudge, he couldn’t help but forgive Dream for keeping Ari a secret. It’s not like he did it specifically to spite him, and they hadn’t talked about what they were.
If anything, he supposed it was his fault for assuming their late nights and shared secrets meant anything more than friendship.
What made it unfair was that their friendship still felt like something more, something different. There was a nearly palpable tension George couldn’t explain now that they were in the same space together.
It was remarkable. Glorious, even, how much stronger their connection was in person.
Until George remembered Ari, and everything would come crashing down again.
Luckily, Sapnap made it easier. Instead of the wonky tripod that was Ari, Dream, and George, they were a somewhat balanced group. He had a knack for recognizing uncomfortable situations, and was careful to step in when things got tense.
Unfortunately, Sapnap had pre-planned a visit to go see Karl a couple weeks after George arrived. He offered to cancel his trip, but George insisted he go. It wasn’t fair to ask him to stay away from his person just because his own wasn’t actually his.
By the time Sapnap was scheduled to depart, Ari and George had grown more comfortable around each other regardless of George’s bitter attempts to give her the cold shoulder. It helped that she understood and valued the relationship Dream and George had, encouraging that they get time alone together.
Not long after Sapnap left, Ari and George sat lounging by the pool while Dream napped after an event he had woken up early for.
“George?” Ari’s voice was melodic as ever, the questioning lilt at the end gentle.
“Mmm.” He was drowsy, eyes closed to the midday sun as he laid back in his pool chair. A nap didn’t sound half bad.
“I’m going to break up with Dream.”
His eyes shot open as he fumbled upright, turning to face her as he exclaimed, “What?!”
“I’m going to break up with Dream.” She repeated herself, cool as a cucumber.
“No, I heard you, I just- What?” George was dumbfounded. For one, why would Ari break up with Dream? Even more confusing, why would she tell George about it first?
Ari turned to lie on her side, her nonchalant composure oddly calming. She tilted her sunglasses down so George could see her eyes, the dark hazel of them gleaming in the bright rays of day. “I think he knows. We started off as friends, and I think we’d be better off that way.”
George felt his mouth drop open. “Okay?” He blinked at her, uncertain about what else could be asked without sounding flippant. “Why are you…?” He trailed off, but she caught on quick as ever.
“Telling you?” She languidly sat up, taking her time to adjust her baby blue bathing suit before answering, “Isn’t it obvious?”
“No, not really.” George felt silly. What wasn’t he getting? They were fast friends, but nowhere near close enough for such confidentiality.
“I think you should go for it.” Ari said with a catlike smile, winking as she moved to put her sunglasses back on.
The blood in George’s cheeks grew hot, his already sun-kissed freckles engulfed by hot pink. “I don’t- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pressed the back of his hand to his face, running his fingers over his lips to disguise his lie.
“Sure you do,” Ari whispered, leaning toward him conspiratorially. “If you don’t, the only person you’re fooling is yourself.” She breathed the last bit into his ear before getting up and sauntering inside without another glance.
Had he been that obvious? They hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary, but their ordinary did have a way of feeling unintentionally exclusive.
All he knew for sure was that he would be thinking of nothing else until he figured out whether what she said was true.
---
Truth has a knack for making itself known.
Ari and Dream came downstairs after Dream’s nap, and Ari was gone before dinner. With just the two of them home, Dream offered to fire up the grill and order in some dessert.
George was hyper-aware that it was the first time they were truly alone together. No screens, no friends, just unspoken admissions and well-done steak. He fiddled with his fork, pushing his vegetables around the plate in silence.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Dream asked between bites of asparagus, looking up to gauge George’s response.
He wasn’t sure if he should divulge his conversation with Ari. What if she hadn’t broken up with him yet? Dream was in a pretty average mood- nowhere near as distraught as someone who was just dumped might be.
“Good steak.” He had meant to ask why Ari hadn’t stayed for dinner.
“Thanks, tried a new spice rub.” Dream clanked his fork against his plate on accident, causing George to jump.
“Nice. Now, where’s my penny?”
Dream nearly choked on his bite of steak, letting out a wheeze that rivaled a teapot. “You idiot.”
“Not my fault you can’t eat properly.” George laughed lightheartedly, happy for the momentary reprieve. He gave Dream a moment to recover while he gathered his thoughts, feeling more comfortable after their shared amusement.
“Why didn’t Ari stay for dinner?” George asked quickly, almost slurring his words together in an attempt to get the question to vacate his mouth.
Dream’s cheeks ballooned as he tried and failed to keep from spitting out his water in surprise. Instead, he ended up splattering tiny chunks of food and several droplets of water onto his plate.
Apparently George hadn’t given him enough time to recover.
“Who taught you how to eat your food?” George teased through devious cackles.
“Shut up.” Dream moaned, still sputtering slightly. “Ari broke up with me.”
The little lopsided grin Dream had on was George’s favorite. The kind that made his bottom lip pout out just enough to make a tiny dimple on his chin. It usually meant ‘hey I’m being really honest about something I’m kind of embarrassed about but trying to take it lightly so please go easy on me.’
“Oh shit, that sucks,” George said before he could stop himself. Admittedly, consoling was not a strong suit of his. It was quiet for a few moments, not even the sound of forks on plates to break the silence.
“Yeah I guess. I- We- I think we were better off as friends anyway.” Dream busied himself with cutting his last couple bites of steak, the hint of rosy blush gracing his forehead.
“So, it doesn’t suck?” Half-joking was much more difficult when you genuinely wanted to know the question, George noted.
“No, I… I’m kind of glad?” He said it like he was still uncertain. It had just happened today, after all. He probably needed more time to process.
George fiddled with his last couple pieces of steak, popping a bite into his mouth before getting up from the table to drop his used plate in the sink. As he moved about the kitchen he said, “What are you glad about? She was nice, I liked her.”
Dream rose to clear his plate too, chewing his last bite of dinner extra long. Likely to give himself more time to answer the question.
“I liked her too, just… more like a friend, you know?” Dream was rinsing his dish now as George refilled his glass from the fridge.
“Yeah… like a friend .” George emphasized the word friend, knowing Dream would catch on to the double meaning. If he didn’t, George would eat his left sock, because how else was he supposed to bring up how he felt?
“Not like you.”
There it was. The first truth. Or was it a half-truth?
“We’re friends.” Without being too conspicuous, George grazed Dream’s back as he walked by and made his way toward the living room.
“Yeah, but…” Dream was in close pursuit having finished rinsing his dishes.
“But what?” George tried and failed to resist the urge to lace his syllables with innuendo. He would get Dream to admit his feelings first no matter how much effort it took to coax it out of him.
They plopped onto the couch, putting their feet up as they often did after meals. Dream reached for a chocolate mint on the coffee table, throwing one to George in the process. They opened and chewed, the sweet and fresh taste delightfully rich.
George crumpled his wrapper and threw it at Dream’s head, laughing as he attempted to dodge it. Dream retaliated with his own wrapper, landing his shot on George’s forehead and giggling as George exaggerated the damage.
The silence was comfortable enough to lull, but not enough to make him forget his quetion. Just as George was about to give in and break his silence, Dream said in a near-whisper, “We- what if I don’t want to be friends?”
Dream was looking at him with a furrowed brow, that one that appeared when he asked questions he didn’t know the answer to. George wanted to chase away the tiny worry wrinkles with a gentle thumb stroke, a soothing reminder that for Dream, he would be anything he needed him to be.
“What if?” George played along, scrunching his own brows together to mock Dream’s concern. “You probably should have told me before I moved over here. Kind of awkward asking someone to move in when you don’t even like them.”
“Who said I didn’t like you?” Dream raised an eyebrow at him and adjusted how he was sitting, angling his body toward George’s ever so slightly.
“You literally just said you don’t want to be my friend.” George exaggerated his fake pouty tone as he tilted onto his hip and curled into a ball, tucking his knees to his chest and putting his arm over the back of the couch. Him and Dream were practically perpendicular now.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t like you.” Dream let his arm drop toward George, seemingly nonchalant.
“What does it mean then?” George grazed at Dream’s fingertips with his own, heart revving as the soles of their fingers met. He slid his hand forward to graze his thumb across Dream’s palm, letting his legs unfold as he siddled closer.
“You know what I mean, idiot.” Dream rolled his eyes teasingly and licked his lips, pulling in his bottom lip to bite it once it was glistening with spit. He managed to make it look half seductive, half nervous.
“I don’t.” He tried to make it sound as believable as possible despite Dream already playing along, because what fun is a game without enthusiastic players?
“Then I’ll show you.” The promise was little more than a murmur, Dream’s nerves getting the best of him as he sat up and sidled closer, his eyes flitting from George’s eyes to his lips.
George settled his extended leg over Dream’s knees to make room, his body coming alive at the touch. He never took his eyes away from Dream as he leaned in slowly until their faces were inches apart.
“Can I show you?” Dream asked, the question a minty wisp of breath upon George’s lip.
“You can try.” George teased, the adrenaline in his veins boosting his confidence tenfold.
“Oh trust me, I will.”
He kept his promise.