Archive of Our Own

Clay Green—another dumb attractive frat boy who was only in college thanks to a hefty football scholarship. From the second George found his name on his list of tutorees for the semester, he already despised him.

“Hello,” was his dry greeting when he stepped into the cramped study room where said frat boy was rocking back on his chair while holding onto the table. “My name’s George. I’m your Computer Science tutor. You must be Clay?”

He couldn’t help the way his nose wrinkled as he sized Clay up. Ridiculously tall. Messy dirty blond waves that fell over his forehead. Light tan skin with freckles peppered over the bridge of his nose.

The second Dream spun his head to make eye contact with him, the chair he was balancing on tipped backward and sent him onto the floor with a curse. George winced at the resounding bang that bounced from the walls and glass entrance of the tiny space.

There was a good five seconds in which George debated backing out of the room to call for help considering Clay was still laying back with his feet hanging in the air. But before he could conclude that Clay had indeed hit his head and they would have to cancel their tutoring sessions for the semester, he shuffled off the fallen chair and jolted to his feet.

With an awkward smile and cheeks dusted in pink, Clay ruffled his hair and awkwardly stood a meter from George. “Sorry about that,” he muttered.

“It’s, uh, no problem,” George replied with a lifted eyebrow. 

With clear of George’s throat and an awkward pause later, a look of realization seemed to phase over Clay. With a more confident smirk, he offered a hand and said, “George! Nice to meet you. Everybody calls me Dream.”

“Dream.” Because of course he would adopt such a ridiculous and conceited nickname. After some hesitation, he shook his hand. “Weird nickname.”

Dream chuckled and replied, “Yeah, well,” he flashed him a cheeky grin, “my friends like to call me ‘the Dream’ and all.” The coy sparkle in his eyes told George everything he had to know. This idiot was only used to people getting weak knees and flustered giggles around him. Well, he was in for a pleasant surprise.

George’s expression remained unfazed. After a second, Dream’s smile faltered. George bit back a laugh and a rude remark. The well-deserved jab at Dream’s ego was enough to satisfy George. For now.

“Alright.” George sat down on the chair across from him. After an expectant look from George, Dream picked up his chair and took a seat too (correctly this time). “Let’s start.”

Much to George’s dismay, Dream brought back that dumb smile and playful twinkle in his eyes that made George almost let out an audible groan. “Can’t wait.”

It was only day one and George was already done with him.

.  .  .

When George had first applied for this crummy tutoring position, he had already accepted that the only kind of people he would be interacting with were spoiled rich kids who only loved, lived, and breathed their sport and dumb playboys who were only in college to play football, throw parties, and hook up with girls.

But from the range of people George had mentally prepared himself to meet, a clingy blond football player with golden retriever energy whose favorite pastime had turned into pestering him hadn’t been a part of that list.

“Can you help me with my calc homework?”

“Do you mind reading over my essay?”

“My code isn’t working, do you mind looking over it?”

And as far as George knew, he hadn’t signed up to be Dream’s personal tutor. The only thing keeping him from marching up to his manager and demanding he get a different tutoree was the fact Dream was the only tutoree he hadn’t turned into a full-time teacher for. Sure, Dream was a nuisance, but at the very least he actually cared about doing his work and didn’t rely on George and his academic advisors for so much as wiping his ass like some of his other tutorees did. He didn’t understand how they were even in college considering they didn’t even know how to log into their student portal.

He wasn’t paid enough for dealing with so much bullshit.

It was almost a month and a half into their sessions that he arrived at the athletic center earlier than usual to work on an assignment that was due right after his tutoring sessions ended. Needless to say, he wasn’t having a very good day, and it was only about to get worse. As he clocked in and made his way to their usual study room, a tennis player who one of his coworkers tutored blocked his path before he could walk inside.

George grimaced. What now?

“Hey,” the guy greeted him with a shining toothpaste commercial smile. “You’re George, right?”

George hummed in response and tapped his shoe on the floor incessantly.

“I’m David,” he said, eyeing him down with interest.

Of course. George scoffed. He glanced around in hopes of finding his manager to diffuse the situation. Unfortunately, it was too early for anybody to be around which meant he was stuck by himself with some guy he wasn’t interested in.

Whatever. It wasn’t like George hadn’t gotten himself out of situations like this in the past, especially considering they had started becoming more common all of a sudden.

“Yeah. Do you mind?” George tilted his head and flashed him a spiteful smile, pointing behind him.

At the very least, David moved aside so he could walk in. Unfortunately, he also took it as an invitation to seat himself across from George.

“So, George, I was thinking that maybe…” he rested his elbows on the table and leaned closer. “We could like, I don’t know, grab something to eat sometime this week? I know this really neat restaurant downtown that just opened. I’m sure you’d really enjoy it.”

“Sorry, I’m not interested,” George responded as he opened his laptop. “And in case you’ve forgotten, tutors aren’t even allowed to talk to their tutorees outside of sessions.” He wrinkled his nose and stared at David with clear distaste. “Much less over dinner.”

David laughed and raised both eyebrows. “Really? I’ve seen you and Dream walking together more than enough times around campus.”

George’s grip on the armrest of his chair tightened and he pursed his lips. “He needed help. But we’re not friends.”

“Come on, George. It’s not like you’re going out with anyone right now. What’s the harm in one date?”

“I said I’m not interested. I shouldn’t have to be dating anyone for you to leave me alone,” he grumbled.

“But you—” 

“He said he’s not interested,” a familiar voice interrupted. They both turned to see Dream standing at the door with a tight grip on the strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder and a piercing glare directed at David.

George fumed. Now with two icy stares headed his way, David finally got the memo and pushed past Dream to exit the room. As he did, he muttered something George didn’t quite hear but that Dream did seeing as his fist clenched and he looked like he was about to throw a punch at the back of the guy’s neck.

Before he could, George cleared his throat and gestured for him to sit. Dream reluctantly slumped on his chair and threw his backpack aside.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“You don’t know them like I do,” Dream muttered and glanced away with a clenched jaw.

George raised an eyebrow at that. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

There was a second of silence. Dream shifted under George’s gaze. He opened his mouth, but he seemed to reconsider and instead shook his head and opened his backpack to pull out his laptop. “They’re just assholes.”

And you aren’t? George bit back the remark.

Dream slipped back into his usual annoying self with his impish smiles and tea-kettle wheezes. It was an hour later when Dream was gathering his stuff to make way for George’s next tutoree that he said, “There’s a homecoming party this Saturday to celebrate our win.” He pulled a half-crumbled card from his pocket and tried his best to smooth it out before slipping it in George’s backpack. He offered George a crooked smile.

“You haven’t won yet,” George pointed out.

His grin expanded and he raised an eyebrow. “We will."

"You sound pretty confident about that."

"That's because I am." George rolled his eyes at that. Dream laughed. "Anyways, it’d be cool if you could stop by.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Just think about it.” And without breaking eye contact, Dream backed out of the room wearing a dumb smile and disappeared around the corner.

“He invited me to the homecoming party his frat is throwing after the game,” George casually mentioned to his friends that Friday at the library.

Quackity proceeded to spray the milkshake he was drinking all over George’s statistics homework. He gaped at George with a fly-eating mouth. “He what!? Isn’t that like the homecoming game party.”

“Yeah, dude, how did you manage that!?” Karl asked with a similar expression.

George shrugged. “He just said it would be cool if I showed up and slid the invitation into my backpack.”

“Okay.” Quackity slammed the book he had been reading on the table and put his elbows on the table like they were about to start a negotiation. George took it as a cue to lean back into his chair and cross his arms with an eyebrow raised. “We need to talk about how obviously this guy is thirsting over you.”

“I second that,” Karl said as he slammed his laptop shut to use this as an excuse to stop working.

George rolled his eyes. With a snicker, he replied, “He’s just another frat boy who's only interested in one-night stands and fake tits.”

Quackity whistled out and wiggled his eyebrows. “Add in geeky British twinks too.”

“Shut up.”

“We’re obviously going to that party, right?” Karl proposed.

Before George could reject the idea, Quackity exclaimed, “Of course we are! It’s the biggest party of the semester and we got an invitation.”

“Correction. George hitched an invitation from his quarterback boyfriend.”

George flashed him a glare that Karl grinned at.

“I’m not going,” he said.

Quackity narrowed his eyes at him. George mimicked him. Neither blinked. Silence drew out across the table as their stare-off intensified. Karl’s chip bag crinkled.

Quackity was the first to talk. "George. Do you remember the pictures." 

"What pictures." George's frown intensified. 

Quackity's eyebrows creased together. "The pictures."

"You wouldn't." 

The corners of his mouth turned up. He raised an eyebrow. "Try me, baby."

Another tense moment passed. Karl crunched on another chip in the background. George turned up his nose at the scent of cheeto puffs dusting the air. Neither backed down. 

He ran down the list of blackmail material he had against Quackity. None of it was worth wasting over some stupid party.

George groaned and buried his face in his hands before sending him a glare. Quackity wooed and raised his hands in the air in victory. One of the students sitting nearby shushed him and he flipped them off. 

"Whatever," George grumbled.

Quackity and Karl cheered and high-fived each other. Quackity wiped the cheeto dust on his palm with George's paper and grinned. 

Rolling his eyes, George yanked his paper from under Quackity's hand and winced when he noticed the cheeto-milkshake stains. “I hate you guys.” 

“Aw Gogy. We know you loooove us!” Karl beamed.

“Just like he loves his quarterback boyfriend.”

George rolled his eyes again. Every day, he reconsidered why he was friends with these idiots.

.  .  .

It was one minute into the party and George was already ready to leave.

The stench of nicotine, sweat, and alcohol contaminated the air. There was shouting and whistling and people screaming out the lyrics of some rap song blaring across the nightclub Dream’s frat had rented. Bodies were pressed tight across the dance floor and many were raising their arms as they swayed to the DJ’s remixes.

It was ten minutes into the party when George decided he would rather jump off the roof just so he had an excuse to get away.

As his friends squeezed between tight bodies and swerved between glowing plastic cups to reach the less-crowded bar area, George yelled, “Whatever you do, don’t let Dr—”

“Look! It’s your football boyfriend!” Karl shouted and started frantically flailing his arms.

Horror struck George when his eyes swept toward the seating area on the elevated platform across the room where Dream was hanging out on one of the sofas. Sitting on the couch to his right, there was a raven-haired guy from the football team and pressed between the armrest and his other side, there was a brunette cheerleader who appeared to be very comfortable clinging to Dream’s arm. There were a few other football players and other faces he didn’t recognize in the surrounding chairs and sofas.

It was eleven and a half minutes when yellow-tinted eyes met brown ones. Even from across the space, he could see the way Dream’s face lit up upon spotting George. He retrieved his arm from behind the cheerleader and jerked forward to wave them over. Meanwhile, the poor girl was left to stumble awkwardly in between the cushions and him. She recovered pretty quickly, and she sneered at George even though she likely had no idea who he was.

Quackity shoved him forward while Karl proceeded to grip his arm to yank him toward the last place he wanted to be at.

There was a guard at the entrance steps who didn’t let them through until Dream told him they were with him. And just like that, George found himself being pulled into the VIP area of the biggest party of the year by no one other than Clay Green. Had he been able to get a hold of a time machine, he would’ve probably begged his past self to reject the academic tutor job.

“Guys!” Dream caught the attention of the small crowd of people he had been sitting with and said, “This is George, my favorite CS tutor!”

“Your only CS tutor, you mean?” a light-blond guy in a white hoodie and a gold chain pointed out.

“George!” the raven-haired guy sprung from the couch to envelop him into a hug that made him freeze like a deer in the headlights. When he pulled away, he beamed and explained, “Dream talks about you so much that I feel like we’re best friends already!”

“Easy on the drinks there, Sapnap,” Dream patted his back with a snicker and pushed him back onto the couch. “Anyhow. This is my best friend Sapnap.” He signaled to the guy he’d just pushed. “That asshole over there is Punz.” He pointed at the blond with the gold chain. 

“Callahan.” A guy with brown hair gave him a two-finger salute.

“Alyssa.” A girl with ash-brown hair offered a big smile and said, “Nice to finally meet you, George!” 

“Sam.” A guy with dyed green hair waved and said, “Nice to meet you, dude.”

When he got to the brunette on the couch, she stood up before he could introduce her and offered George a handshake paired with a plastic smile.

“And I’m Jess,” she said while gripping his hand a little too tight. “Dream’s—”

“Friend,” Dream finished for her with a smile, directed mostly toward George, and then gestured for her to sit. She did with a huff and her arms crossed. George wasn’t quite sure what kind of relationship drama he’d walked into, but he knew that he did not want to be a part of it.

Behind him, Karl and Quackity cleared their throats rather loudly. “Oh, right,” George stepped back. “This is Karl.” He pointed to his right.

“And this idiot over here is Quackity.” He pointed to his left.

“You know, Dream,” Quackity started, sending George a spiteful smile that made George regret his words. “George talks about you nonstop,” Dream’s eyes brightened and his eyebrows rose with clear interest, “and he even has—”

George elbowed him and cut him off with a strained, “Quackity is like the coolest guy I’ve ever met. Insanely smart pre-law during the day and life of the party by the night.”  

With a coy smile, Quackity backed off and slumped onto one of the chairs across from Sapnap. Karl also walked over to lean next to Quackity’s chair.

Meanwhile, Dream took hold of George’s hand and pulled him over to sit in between him and Sapnap. George didn’t miss the dirty look Jess flashed him. Karl and Quackity fell into an easy conversation with Dream’s friends.

Dream was contently humming along to one of the songs playing over the speakers while he rested his arm over the headrest behind George. On the other hand, George was having the worst time of his life cramped between Dream and Sapnap with a dry mouth and anxiously glancing at the time on his phone every so often.

Fifteen minutes. It had only been fifteen minutes.

At one point, Sapnap seemed to lose interest in the conversation with the rest, so he sat back and eyed George with curiosity. He braced himself for the worst.

“So George,” he started. “What are your intentions with my brother here?”

Dream scoffed and slapped the back of Sapnap’s head from behind George, only causing George to be pulled closer to him. His mouth to turn dryer than it already was. “Idiot,” Dream grumbled. “Just ignore him.”

To distract himself from Dream’s warm body pressed against his side and his arm practically almost falling over his shoulders, George cleared his throat and blurted out the first thing to come to mind. “You guys are brothers?”

 “Not by blood.” Sapnap snickered. “He’s my best friend though, and we’re frat brothers so… basically the same thing.”

“Right,” George muttered.

“You’re a Computer Science major, right?” Sapnap didn’t break away from the conversation, much to his dismay. Next to him, Dream shuffled back as Jess pulled him off the couch to whisper something inaudible.

“Uh, yeah,” he said.

From the corner of his eye, George watched as Jess dragged Dream off the platform and into the crowd.

“— minor. Do you think it’d be too much?”

“Right, yeah,” George murmured, this time turning to see if he could catch sight of him but not quite finding them in between all the moving bodies.

Sapnap laughed. “Did you even hear what I said?”

“Huh?”

When George met his gaze again, Sapnap was sending him a sideways smirk. “Don’t worry about it. So you and Dream, huh?”

“Me and Dream?” George furrowed his eyebrows.

“You and Dream. Are you guys like a thing, now?”

George scoffed, but his face betrayed him when his cheeks turned hot. “No.”

“You sound unsure.”

“We’re not… I’m just his tutor.”

“But you like him?”

“Of course not,” he answered fast enough that it made Sapnap raise a dubious eyebrow.

“You sure about that? Because he’s all you talk about you know. If you did like him, trust me, he would drop everything in a second for you.”

George swallowed. He clutched the bottom of the sofa. The words resonated in his mind.

I would drop everything for you, George. I love you that much.

He bit his lip a little too hard and forced the memory to the back of his mind. With a serious stare, he said, “I don’t like him. I only put up with him because he’s my tutoree.”

It was harsh, and it obviously took Sapnap by shock, but it was the truth. George and Dream were never going to be a thing. He would make sure of that.

“Is that the infamous George?” A new, loud and rather obnoxious voice joined the conversation. How did so many fucking strangers know who he was?

George turned to see a somewhat tall and broad-shouldered blond from the football team along with some other football players and frat boys he recognized as tutorees from the athletic center.

“Ryan. What are you doing here?” Sapnap sat up straighter. The rest of Dream’s friends stopped their conversation at his arrival. How come everyone was suddenly so jumpy?

“Heard Dream’s…” he glanced at George with a snicker and in quotations finished with, “‘tutor’ was here.” Behind him, some of the guys chuckled. “Just wanted to see what all the fuss was about, you know?” His gaze was mocking, but George wasn’t sure for what.

George narrowed his eyes. Before he could ask what exactly it was that people were saying about him, Dream’s voice came from behind Ryan and his friends.

“Just drop it, Ryan. It’s not the time.”

George tilted himself back to look behind them. Dream was standing with his hands in his pockets and a not-so-amused expression. Next to him, Jess was clinging to him like a leech. She was the first to make eye contact with him, and all she did was tilt her head with a teasing smile and send him a little wave.

“Aw, come on, Dreamie. We were just having some good and friendly fun! I mean, that’s all Mr. Popular is here for, isn’t he?” Ryan flashed George a smile and a wink.

Dream looked like he was about to combust on the spot. He pushed Jess aside in favor of getting in Ryan’s face. Out of nowhere, Sam stepped in and put himself in between them. “Come on, guys. Let’s not do this right now. We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

When George glanced to where Sam had been sitting, he realized that most of them had gotten to their feet like they were expecting something to happen.

For a moment, the only sound was the music playing over the speakers. With a sneer, Ryan was the first to back away. He patted Dream’s shoulder loud enough to sound like a slap and muttered something in his ear. Dream kept a straight face. It was only when he locked eyes with George for the first time that his gaze softened. But George looked away.

Ryan and his buddies walked off, and the tension in the air dissipated. Everyone got comfortable in their seats again, though the conversation felt more forced and trivial than before. 

From the corner of his eye, he watched Jess attempt to wrap her arms around Dream’s arm again but he only pushed her aside and approached George.

“You okay?” he asked when he sat down.

George’s jaw clenched. He sent Dream a dry stare. “Am I not supposed to be?”

“Just…” Dream exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair. George had pinpointed it as his nervous habit since their second session. “This is probably really confusing for you, huh?”

“What? That somehow the whole football team and your frat house seem to be aware of my existence and for some inexplicable reason, everyone looks at me like I’m inside a cage at the zoo? No, not at all.”

Dream wheezed, and George tried to ignore how endearing it sounded. “You’re not a zoo animal, George. Far from it.”

“Then how come everyone is treating me like one?” George raised an eyebrow.

But just noticing the way Dream pursed his lips and glanced away, he knew it was useless to ask. He stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“Somewhere where people don’t know me.”

He ignored Quackity and Karl’s concerned faces and marched off without looking back. He ended up leaning the back of his head against the concrete wall of the venue, watching the cars zoom past on the highway nearby.

As expected, footsteps approached him. He was about to ask Quackity or Karl to return to the party when he realized it was actually Dream there. He turned away with a scoff.

After a moment, Dream spoke. “Thanks for showing up.”

“It wasn’t my decision.”

“But it was… you could’ve decided not to come, but you did. I’m really sorry this happened. It wasn’t my intention.”

“It’s whatever.” George shrugged and crossed his arms. He stared off into the distant lights of downtown with tight lips.

“It’s not. It’s just...” Dream scoffed. “It’s stupid, but I’m not exactly the most well-liked by certain people in the team, mostly because some of the guys think I don’t deserve my position and well, let’s just say it’s caused some tension, and this is really just them getting back at me.”

George shifted to his side and met his nervous gaze. “What has that got to do with me?”

“Well…” His cheeks turned darker. As he slid his hands into his pockets, he lowered his chin and muttered, “I like you.” He looked back up to met George’s arched eyebrow. “I feel like I’ve made it pretty obvious.”

“Hadn’t noticed.”

Dream snickered.

“But what’s that got to do with this whole… me suddenly being the most talked about person in this party situation.”

“Oh, come on.” As he tilted his head, Dream’s eyes twinkled with a hint of playfulness. “Don’t be so full of yourself there, Georgie.”

“I could say the same to you.”

Dream scoffed and rolled his eyes. He stepped closer, close enough that when he exhaled, the puff of white air he blew out reached George’s face. Every inch of his body told him to pull back, and yet it was like his limbs had forgotten how to function. “You’re really attractive, you know that?”

George couldn’t help his smug smile. “I’ve been told a few times.”

“Just a few?” Dream raised an eyebrow, and George’s innocent shrug made him chuckle. “Pretty boys tend to gather attention, and seeing as I’ve got plenty of petty people out for my head…” His smirk widened. For a moment, dread spread across the pit of George’s stomach as he noticed the way Dream’s eyes traced down to his lips and then back up. “They think that using you is the best way to bother me.”

And as was usual with George’s hard-to-control mouth, his chin leaned upwards as he asked, “Is it?” before he could think any better of it.

Dream’s breath was warm and humid on his face. George desperately tried to pull back, but his body did the opposite. Sparks ignited across his body when their lips brushed. 

“Yeah,” Dream whispered.

And before George could process it, his body was pressing into Dream’s as their lips made contact. It was wet and messy and hard-to-control—the way their mouths moved against each other and their hands clutched the closest garment they could find.

George’s back pressed against the wall as Dream pushed further into him, teeth clinking and heads rotating. His fingers traveled from gripping the front of Dream’s jacket to wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. At the same time, Dream pressed his hands on the back of his thighs and George’s back rubbed against the wall as he lifted him.

It had been a while since George had kissed someone like this—hard and heavy and only witnessed by the moon and the stars above them. It had been a while since he’d felt the blaze burning at the pit of his stomach demanding more, more, more.

 It was only when Dream rutted his hips into him and he gasped out that he came to his senses, and with wide eyes, his feet found their way back to the ground and he shoved a confused Dream back.

“What’s wrong?” Dream asked, knitted eyebrows replacing his previous look of desire. His hand reached forward to caress his cheek, but George turned his face away before he could.

“This is a mistake,” George managed, taking his eyes off of Dream’s flushed lips and scarlet face. He moved aside to put more distance in between them.

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is I don’t like you in that way,” George replied, words unintentionally strained.

Dream’s voice was only growing more confused. “But… you kissed me.” 

His stomach rumbled. He clenched his fists and backed away. When he finally met Dream’s gaze, he frowned and stated, “It’s not going to happen, Dream. Just forget it.”

And before Dream could respond, George turned on his heel and rushed back into the building. Behind him, Dream called out his name and chased after him, but George managed to lose him in between the rush of people and the blasting music. It wasn’t long before he spotted Karl leaning beside Sapnap whose palm was spread against the wall beside him at a rather close distance.

On a different occasion, George would’ve started the conversation with a teasing remark. But right now, it only took him saying, “I’m leaving,” before Karl’s expression fell and he reached for George in a second.

“What happened!? Are you okay?”

George nodded, though from Karl’s reaction, he assumed he didn’t look the part. Karl didn’t ask anything else before giving Sapnap a rushed goodbye and pulling him toward the closest exit.

A text and a quick phone call later and Quackity was outside ordering them a Lyft that arrived within five minutes. They didn’t ask him what was wrong—not as they entered and exit the car, not as they wandered up into their shared apartment, not as George locked himself in his room and faced the mirror, realizing his eyes were puffy and red.

He slipped off his shoes and collapsed into his pillow without bothering to change. He tried to forget about the imprint left by Dream’s soft lips and warm tongue.

Much to his dismay, he failed, and he passed out with the memory of Dream’s caring hands and endearing laughter fogging his mind.

.  .  .

The party was a mistake.

Somewhere along the line, George had lowered his guard. He wasn’t sure where it started. Whether it was when he started smiling at dumb quips. Or when he started snickering at Dream’s lame jokes. Or when he started finding stray sticky notes inside his backpack with scribbled smiley faces and daily compliments.

It was the kiss that pushed them past the point of no return, and there was no way George was going to face Dream after that. Thus, he took the most logical decision he could. 

He started taking excused leaves for the days when he had tutoring with Dream off and started attending during the days he knew he had football practice. It left Dream with no choice but to switch tutors.

George wasn’t dumb. He knew Dream was looking for him. George had started taking a new route to his classes and borrowing one of Quackity’s beanies and more of Karl’s sweatshirts. It had also been several days that Dream had showed up at the footstep of their apartment and Karl and Quackity had made the excuse that he wasn’t home, even when he was. They didn’t understand the full picture, but they understood enough to cover for him.

It worked for a while. Until one unexpected evening when George showed up to his Thursday sessions and spotted Dream’s name in the first slot of his tutoring list. He almost considered running out, but the receptionist had already seen him, and there was no way he could come up with an excuse when he had already been switching so many of his days around.

Thus, when he spotted Dream with his legs inclined on the desk and fiddling with the zipper of his backpack, he stepped into the study room with his best poker face.

Dream’s eyes lit up the way they always did when he talked to George. The way that made his stomach stir and his fight or flight instincts to kick in.

“George! I haven’t seen you in almost two weeks.”

“I’ve been busy.” He took a seat across from him. “Don’t you have football practice today?”

Dream kept a curious stare fixed at George. For a moment, his eyes traced over his lips, and George’s body urged him to rush out of the room. “I told Coach that I was struggling with calc and that I really needed to see my Thursday tutor.”

“I’m not even your calc tutor.”

“Yeah, but you’re better than all the math tutors in this place.”

He scoffed. Dream perked up and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could rope George into the inevitable conversation he was looking for, George cleared his throat.

“Alright.” He opened his laptop while sending Dream a blank stare. “If you’re struggling so bad, then let’s study.”

Much to Dream’s disappointment, they didn’t talk about much besides partial fractions and trigonometric identities. While gathering his stuff, he tried to start another conversation, but George excused himself to go to the bathroom until it was time for his next tutoree.

It was two hours later when George was exiting the athletics center that he ran into Dream again. He was leaning next to the exit with his arms crossed and a big smirk.

“What are you still doing here?”

“I was waiting for you.” He swallowed. His grip on the strap of his backpack tightened. Don’t let him get to you. He’s just another charming playboy who’s trying to break your heart.

George hummed. Dream settled on a quiet pace beside him. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the way Dream buried his hands in the pockets of his letterman jacket and eyed the side of George’s face.

“The parking lot is back there, you know.” George pointed in the opposite direction they were walking.

“I know.”

Idiot.

“Then why are you walking the opposite way?” 

“We have some things to talk about, don’t we?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

Dream scoffed. “Come on, George. I just want to know why you’re so afraid of admitting you like me.”

“Who says I’m afraid?” He lifted an eyebrow and sent him a sideways glance. “And who says I like you?” He ignored the part of him that told him it was all a lie.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn’t like when we kissed.”

George turned his head and met his gaze. Dream’s eyes were sparkling with confidence. He didn’t understand how Dream managed to sound like that—like he was trying to gift George the world and all he was doing was rejecting it. It sounded too much like him. George just wanted to erase his voice from his head.

“Say it.”

“I don’t like you, Dream.” It wasn’t convincing even to him.

“Come on, George. Why are you so scared to confront your feelings?”

“Why are you still following me? You know I could call campus police right now and say there’s a creep stalking me.”

Dream scoffed. “I just wanted to make sure you got home safely.”

“It’s like across the street, and I always make this walk.”

Dream shrugged. He turned to George with that aggravating sparkle in his eyes. “You can’t be too sure.”

He walked him the whole way. He walked him the whole way and George didn’t understand why he wouldn’t just give up. George had given him every obvious cue that he wasn’t interested—even if it might’ve not been the most convincing. Dream had almost half the cheerleading team thirsting after him and even more people pursuing him, and yet he insisted on toying with George’s heart. Hadn’t he already humiliated George enough with the party?

As they arrived at the front of George’s apartments, Dream started speaking again. “I’m not lying when I say I like you, George. I like you a lot. Just… think about it. If you decide you really don’t like me, I promise I’ll stop bothering you. I’ll even ask my advisor to switch tutors so you don’t have to see me.” His gaze softened. “But please be honest with me and yourself too.”

George pursed his lips, but he didn’t answer. He only turned on his heel and made his way toward the entrance.

“Goodnight, George,” Dream said, behind him.

He refused to look over his shoulder when he walked into the building.

It was outside of the elevator when he was stuck inside his head that an atrocious voice pulled him out. He closed his eyes, and with a sigh, he faced her.

“George. Long time no see.” Her smile was venomous. She twirled a strand of her hair around her finger and wet her lips. Her eyes sized him up.

“Jess,” he stated. “I didn’t realize you lived here.”

“I don’t. I’m here with a friend.”

The elevator door dinged. When the doors opened, they stepped inside. He pressed the ninth floor. She pressed the eighth.

“I see.”

The doors shut. Jess fixed her stare on him. He didn’t.

“I hope you know Dream blew off practice for you.”

The elevator dinged as they ascended. George sent her a puzzled glance. She was still smiling and twirling her hair, a feigned innocence to her gaze.

“What?”

“He told the coach he was sick.” A bitter laugh escaped her. She rolled her eyes. “Imagine my surprise when my friend sent me a Snapchat with a picture of you and Dream walking out of the athletics center.”

George’s eyes shifted toward the number above the doors. The number switched from three to four.

“I didn’t ask him to.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Her words were more aggressive this time around. “Because all you have to do is flutter your pretty little eyelashes and people are on their knees in front of you, huh?”

The floor number read five.

“Or are you the one who gets on his knees?”

He pursed his lips but didn’t say anything. She was jealous. That much was obvious. She was only trying to pick a fight with him because she knew he didn’t even have to try to get Dream’s attention.

“No wonder half the sports teams on campus have this bet going on.”

He turned too fast, his eyebrows creased. “What?”

“Oh, you hadn’t heard?” Her eyes squinted as she burst into giggles. “Why do you think so many people are suddenly so intrigued with you? Everyone has this bet on who’s going to get you in the bag soon—guys and girls.”

His stomach fell. He hadn’t thought into it much. It had seemed like an abnormal development—the number of people who had asked him out in the past few weeks and especially after the party. He had dismissed it as an aftereffect of his sudden popularity. He had never considered…

“I wouldn’t even be surprised if Dream was in it too, considering how much he’s been trying with you.” She laughed again, this one softer and all the nastier. “I’ve never seen him be so obsessed with someone. There’s no way it’s not just a challenge. Haven’t you noticed?”

He gritted his teeth, but he didn’t respond.

“Dream loves challenges.”

The elevator halted.

“It’s a good thing you don’t like him.”

The doors dinged. She stepped out and looked over her shoulder momentarily with a twisted white smile. “Goodnight, George. Oh, and by the way,” her traced him up and down. “You look good today.”

The doors closed, and the elevator continued up. They opened at his floor. The person waiting on the other side stepped inside and looked at him weirdly. “Are you getting out or..?”

When he got to his dorm, Karl beamed and asked him how his day was. He didn’t answer. Instead, he went to sit on the couch and stared at the muted TV playing titanic in the background. He didn’t talk that night. His friends didn’t push him either. They only enjoyed each other’s company as George spent time with them for the first time in days.

And the next week when he showed up for his last tutoring session of the semester with Dream, he ignored everything he said besides the questions about his homework. It was when Dream was gathering his stuff and shuffling toward the door with his chin down that George finally said something. Dream spun his head to meet his eyes in anticipation.

“I don’t like you, Dream.” Then he looked back at his computer screen, trying to swallow the tightness at his throat. “Please just leave me alone.”

.  .  .

His finals flew by in a flash. Winter Break arrived, and he spent his holidays with his family in England. Nights spent up until 5 AM in the morning studying for his computer science courses turned into shouting into his microphone playing videogames.

Dream didn’t speak to him for the rest of the semester. He didn’t call him. He didn’t message him. George was grateful for that—even though deep down, he couldn’t erase his face from his mind.

It was his fault, really. He had known Dream was trouble. He had known not to get involved. It wasn’t like he wasn’t familiar with his type. But George had played into his stupid game and he’d won a stupid prize. He was the one who’d fucked himself over.

It was during a New Year’s party that George made his first stupidest mistake of the year.

On his first week back, his friend Wilbur hosted an off the rails party that ended up with them in his room either knocked out, high as fuck, or drunk off their wits. It happened during a dumb game of truth or dare that Quackity suggested they play for the ‘nostalgia.’

On his second turn (after the first in which he had admitted to giving his first blowjob during a seven minutes in heaven game in his senior year of high school), he chose dare. He had no idea the trainwreck that was about to take place.

A trail of beer dripped from Quackity’s chin when he took a swing of his bottle and then wooed as soon as George called out, “Dare.”

It was Karl’s turn to choose George’s dare but considering he couldn’t be bothered sprawled out on the floor with his arms out and laughing hysterically, Quackity decided to choose it for him.

“I dare you,” he grinned, all teeth and with a devilish glint in his eyes. George was already regretting his decision, “to ask Dream out and then dump him in front of his whole team.”

“What?” George huffed in disbelief. “That’s so dumb. Give me a better dare.”

“Aw, Gogy, you can’t tell me you’ve already fallen for the prick,” Wilbur added with a smile and a click of his tongue.

It struck too close. But he bit back the defensive remark at his tongue and scoffed. “It’s just a dumb dare. He’s just a stupid frat boy who’s trying to use me for his sexuality awakening or whatever.”

“Come on, George,” Ant said from his spot huddled in his boyfriend’s, Velvet’s arms, on the couch across from him. “If you think he’s just another stupid frat boy, why don’t you do it?” Ant laughed as Velvet pressed them closer together and made faces at his phone camera. George turned up his nose as he witnessed their disgusting display of affection. He turned away.

“Yeah, he’s definitely just trying to screw you,” said Quackity. 

“Oh, trust me, Dream is down baaaaaad,” Karl giggled. “He’s not just looking to screw Georgie.”

“Shut up.”

“Why do you even care so much about his feelings?” Wilbur asked.

George scoffed and crossed his arms. “I don’t.”

“Then just do it, man, it’ll be hilarious! You already always talk about how much you hate him,” Quackity insisted. “I’m starting to think it’s the opposite.”

George rolled his eyes. He pressed his back against the couch and considered it. Dream was a heartbreaker—that was a given. He also loved games. So what was George to do if not to play him at his own game?

There’s no way it’s not just a challenge.

“Come on, George!”

His jaw tightened. “You know what? Fine. I’ll ask him out and then embarrass him in front of his whole team.” It wasn’t like Dream hadn’t already tried.

“Ooooh,” Velvet pulled down his phone and whistled. “Watch out, we got a new heartbreaker in town.”

The rest whistled and burst into cheers (Karl too even though he probably had no idea what he was wooing at) while Quackity cackled maniacally. A tinge of pride and excitement settled in his stomach as he further considered the idea. And yet, George had yet to find out the massive fuck-up he’d stuck himself in.

.  .  .

George prided himself for not being an idiot—well, at least relative to his friends that was. His friends who were the dumbest people on the planet and who loved to torture him.

And yet this was the most absolute batshit idiotic bet he’d ever taken, so, really, he only had himself to blame. 

It was only until he was standing in front of this other beaming idiot that he realized this.

“Are you asking me out?” was the first thing Dream asked when he snapped out of his haze, the one that had him looking like he had heart-shaped sparkles in his eyes like an anime character.

And instead of doubling back on his words and dropping this stupid bet, George made his second stupidest mistake of the year. He responded, “Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Oh, yeah, um, obviously I’ll go out with you, I just— wow, hold on just—” Dream looked like he was about to explode as he fiddled with the clanking fidget toy on his car keys, his foot pacing up and down and his words coming out at a hundred miles a second like he had yet to believe what was happening. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

George snickered, shifting on his feet uncomfortably. “I think I do.”

“Well,” Dream tilted his head in a manner that shouldn’t have been as endearing as it was. He paused like he was thinking about his words. “What made you change your mind?”

George shrugged. “I figured we could try it.”

The goofy grin Dream gave him made George want to slap it off his face. “I knew you liked me!”

He scoffed, “I don’t. This is just… a one-time agreement.”

“Sure.” Dream’s eyes twinkled with an emotion that made his stomach stir. They made their way toward the exit of the technology building.

“Soooo… where are you planning to take me, Georgie?”

Welp. He hadn’t exactly thought far enough into this plan. His face burned hotter than it already was. “Um…”

Dream stopped in the middle of the hallway and burst into wheezes. He shook his head and looked up at George with the fondest expression he ever had, so much that he entertained the possibility that it was honest. But it wasn’t—it couldn’t be. Dream just so happened to be a charming person.

Because he’s all you talk about you know. If you did like him, trust me, he would drop everything in a second for you.

“You asked me out on a date without actually planning where we were going?” Dream asked after he managed to contain his laughter.

“I don’t know. I just didn’t think I’d get this far.” He cringed at his own dumb excuse. What was wrong with him?

“... You thought I wouldn’t accept even though I’ve spent all semester trying to get you to realize you like me just as much as I like you?”

“I don’t like you,” he muttered, but the more he said it, the less convincing it sounded.

“You’re such an idiot.” Dream giggled. “Alright. Since you didn’t have the decency to plan our date—”

“Outing,” George corrected.

“Friday night. Seven PM. I’ll pick you up at your apartment and we can go to that new Sushi place that opened up downtown.”

George furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought you hated Sushi? You’re always talking about it.”

“But you like it.” Dream’s smile broadened as he spun his key on his index finger. “You mentioned it during one of our sessions.”

His stomach fell. He pursed his lips and broke their eye contact, unable to deal with the intensity of his affectionate gaze. “You remembered that?”

Dream giggled again. “Obviously. It’s you.”

“Oh,” was all George managed, the sinking dread at the pit of his stomach only growing worse. “I have to go.”

“Well,” Dream stopped when they reached the door. He ruffled his hair in the attractive way he knew always had people blushing. And apparently, George was no longer the exception. “Don’t let me stop you.”

As he rushed away, Dream’s gaze burned into the back of his neck. And it was only until this moment that George realized how royally he’d fucked up.

.  .  .

“He literally bet on you,” Quackity scoffed as George pressed his hands over his face and slumped against the armchair of their sofa. “That’s fucked up. It’s not like you’re the asshole here. You’re just turning the tables on him.”

“I don’t know, Quackity, I still don’t think Dream would do something like that,” Karl added, only making George feel worse about himself. “Maybe you should call off the bet.”

He had come clean about the situation. Although his friends had known something had happened between them, George hadn’t been explicit about what it was. But the closer Friday got, the more he found himself contemplating the situation. Unfortunately, they weren’t very helpful about it. 

“Bullshit! He’s an asshole! You have to do it,” Quackity insisted. “All he was trying to do was hurt George to feed his already massive ego. You gotta hit him where it hurts!”

“But the way Sapnap talks about him—”

“— is the way we used to talk about Jay.” The comment hit George square in the chest. Quackity cringed as soon as he said it, and he hurriedly replied, “Shit, sorry, George, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine.” George’s lips tightened. “I’ve forgotten about him.”

He hadn’t. But he wasn’t about to admit that aloud.

There was a brief pause before Karl muttered, “This isn’t you, George.”

It wasn’t. George had always been the kind of step away from drama and toxic people. He had never been one to take stuff like this seriously. Relationships were pointless in his eyes… at least they had been until Jay happened. And that experience had certainly pushed him away from pursuing anything serious.

But somehow, Dream had wound his way into his life. He had turned into the exception—just like Jay had been. He exhaled a deep breath and stared at his hands.

Dream loves challenges.

“I guess it is now.”

.  .  .

It was date night. He was so nervous throughout the day that he got absolutely nothing done. Karl gently nudged him to back out of the dare, but at that point, he had made up his mind.

When Dream showed up at his door wearing a dark blue button-up that was unbuttoned at the top and a bouquet of roses on his arms, George couldn’t help the way his stomach dropped with both guilt and hidden anticipation.

He ignored the feeling for the rest of their date. Dream remained his usual laidback and enchanting self while George was only a bit quieter than usual, every so often chuckling and smiling at something Dream said.

The restaurant went better than expected, and George didn’t like that.

He didn’t like how Dream’s dimples creased and his eyes lit up when he talked about how much Patches was going to love George (even though he had mentioned his cat was currently living in his childhood home and the thought of meeting Dream’s parents was only giving him whiplash).

He didn’t like how Dream didn’t contain his wheezes in the middle of a crowded restaurant and he wasn’t embarrassed to reach across the table to take George’s hand. He didn’t like the way that Dream winced when he put a piece of sushi in his mouth and yet forced himself to swallow it just because George was enjoying it.

He didn’t like how Dream’s arm felt like a missing puzzle piece around his shoulders when they walked back to his car or how George’s head felt so perfectly tucked into the crook of his neck every time Dream brought him closer.

He didn’t like how as soon as George so much as crossed his arms from the night breeze, Dream flung his arm over the back of George’s seat and pulled out the letterman that practically drowned him in a cloud of warmth and piney scent.

He didn’t like how Dream walked him to his apartment door at the end of the night and used his fingertips to guide George’s chin up. How he stared at him with stars in his eyes and smiled like George was the sky and the earth and the universe all at once. How he caressed his bottom lip across George’s forehead and then pressed a gentle kiss on his skin.

They stayed like that for a moment, with Dream’s hands gently resting on his waist and his lips pressed against his forehead. And right before pulling away, he whispered, “Goodnight, George.”

He backed away with a warming smile that George couldn’t help but return. It was only when he was inside sitting on the floor with his back against the door that he realized his heart was pumping hard and fast.

“George?” Karl’s sleepy mutter came from the kitchen. When George looked up, he saw him approaching with a very concerned expression. “Are you okay? Why are you crying?”

Confused, he reached his hand to his cheek and realized his face was wet. He hadn’t cried since… His gaze fell to the ground again, and his vision grew blurrier.

“I think I messed up,” he managed.

Karl hummed. He shuffled closer until his feet were within range and a hand came down. George took it, and Karl helped him off the ground and into his arms. It was only then that he burst into heaves and sniffles, unable to contain his heart from bursting any longer.

After a few minutes of Karl rubbing his back comfortingly, George whispered, “I need to tell him,” with a dry throat and a cracked voice.

“Yeah.”

.  .  .

He didn’t tell him.

Instead, he quit his job as a tutor with no explanation before the first day of classes even started. He spent his first week avoiding Dream—he even blocked him on every social media and his number.

On several occasions, he ran into Sapnap or Punz or a few of his other friends.

“Dream’s been looking for you,” they would always end up saying, but George always gave them a simple shrug and pulled out an excuse to leave.

He had even seen Dream a couple of times, but he had made sure to walk the other way or hide somewhere.

It wasn’t until halfway through the second week of classes that his plan crumpled. He was walking out of the research center when a girl (one he recognized from the cheerleading team) stepped in front of him.

“You’re George, right?” she asked with a sweet smile and a playful gaze.

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Jannet,” she introduced herself while twirling a strand of her curly hair and tilting her head. “I’ve seen you a lot around campus and well, I’ve always been too shy to approach you but I thought this was my chance so—”

He tuned her out after that, only looking past her shoulder and hastily tapping his foot on the ground. He had only been back on campus for a few weeks and the sudden “confessions” and amount of people who flirted with him appeared to have tripled. He tried to ignore it—to put it behind and forget Dream existed. But it was like suddenly everyone knew his name and avoiding what had happened with Dream was proving to be an impossible task.

“Jannet,” the voice that came from behind him made his heart sink and his throat close up. Even though he wasn’t directly touching George, his presence was heavy enough that he was being swallowed whole.

“Dream,” she replied, dryly. “Weren’t you hanging out with Jess?”

The name felt like it was rubbing salt on the wound. George turned around with a blank face and met his eyes like it was the first time again.

“I need to talk to George. Do you mind?” Dream asked her without breaking eye contact with him.

Jannet scoffed. “You know, Dream, you can’t just—”

“Come on,” Dream said as he took George’s hand and lead him toward the benches on the side of the building where there was no one to snoop.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

George’s eyes landed on the oak tree in front of them. With a dry voice, he replied, “I’ve been busy.” 

 Dream let out an unamused chuckle. “What happened, George? I thought we’d fixed things but it’s like you’re trying to pretend I don’t exist again.”

I am. “I’m not.” He bit his lip and fumbled with his fingers. “I said I was busy.”

The leaves rustled with the coming Spring breeze. Fallen twigs crinkled when a squirrel darted down the trunk of the tree and scavenged the ground for food. Beside him, Dream sighed, and it broke George.

“I just want to know what I did wrong,” Dream’s voice was barely above a breath. “Our date went so well and then you just… disappeared.”

“I just—” George’s voice cracked. Dream shifted closer at the sound of it. He internally cursed himself. Now that he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t affected by it, George let out a long breath and turned to face him. Dream’s brow line was wrinkled and his eyes were glossy as they searched George’s expression like he was trying so hard to take him apart. His heart picked up as the words edged his tongue. “There was this bet…”

Dream’s eyes widened like a realization hit him, and before George could continue, he said, “George, that wasn’t— I promise, it wasn’t my idea, I wasn’t a part—”

Sudden confusion struck George, and when he saw the panic on Dream’s face, his heart dropped. He had been right. Jess had been telling the truth. His chest burned as guilt turned into bewilderment which turned into anger, and he tried to stand up, but Dream clung onto his arm and pulled him back.

“Let me go, Dream,” he snapped.

“No, no, no, you can’t do this again, just let me explain!” Dream’s voice was only growing more agitated. George’s eyes were burning and he was struggling to pull himself away, trying to get as far away from Dream as he could.

George’s eyes blazed as he looked at Dream. “There’s nothing to explain. I know everything.” 

“There was never a bet!”

He froze. The wind picked up. His heart was beating at a hundred miles an hour and his thoughts were so fumbled he couldn’t tell what was happening. “What?”

Dream breathed in deep and released his arm. His stare was firm when he said, “There was never a bet, George. Not from me or my friends, at least. Ryan is an asshole and he thinks that I stole Jess and his place on the team and he’s jealous that people like me for not being an absolute asshole who’s totally full of himself like a lot of my teammates are.”

A scoff escaped him and he muttered, “That’s debatable.”

Dream chuckled, but it wasn’t hurt this time. “Just stop being an idiot and let me finish explaining.” George raised his eyebrows expectantly. “When he figured out I liked you, the pretty tutor that basically every person in the athletic center found attractive, he thought it’d be funny to bet an obscene amount of money on who would be the first one to sleep with you. But I never took the bet. A lot of people did, even some people in other teams like that guy from tennis. That’s why I told him to leave you alone that day.”

Slowly, the dots began to connect, and as George was about to formulate a response, Dream continued, “But George. I’ve always liked you, even before you became my tutor.”

Frozen, the only word George was able to utter was, “What?”

Dream laughed, this time in a lighter and warmer manner. “I saw you in one of our winning games the first time. You were talking with Karl and your other friend, that Quack-something guy—” George snorted but continued listening. “— and I thought you were cute, but it wasn’t until we were in the same history class that I really started liking you.”

“We took the same history class together?”

“Yeah. Professor Clarke.” He remembered. He was an old boring man he’d taken during his third semester to meet one of his core requirements. During his lectures, he always dozed off or worked on his computer science homework seeing as it was his easy class.

“I don’t remember you being there.”

“That’s because I never talked to you. I sat right behind you but the only time we interacted was when you turned around and asked me if you could borrow a pencil.”

“I—” His eyes widened. It was the day his friends thought it would be a good idea to steal his laptop for shits and giggles and he was bored out of his mind so he opened his journal to doodle in it, but he realized he didn’t have anything to write with. He had turned to the person behind him and asked for a pencil, but he hadn’t even looked at them for long enough to remember it was Dream. “That was so long ago. How did you even remember me?”

Dream rolled his eyes. “Because I was crushing on you like crazy, but I never had the courage to talk to you.”

“So… you’re saying you never made a bet?”

“Of course not! Would I have gone through this much trouble for a stupid bet?”

George shrugged. “You’re pretty competitive.”

“Okay, yeah, but with stuff that doesn’t matter.” Dream snickered. “I really like you, George. I always have.”

He didn’t know what to say. He believed him, but where were they supposed to go from there? How was George supposed to confess that he was the dumbass who had made a bet? How was he supposed to admit that he liked him too?

“I… I don’t know, Dream.”

“Come on, I like you and I know for a fact you like me. So what’s the problem?”

“It’s just. I don’t think you know—”

“Is it because of your past relationship?”

George tensed. “How do you know about that?”

Dream’s eyes widened like he hadn’t meant to say it. He fumbled for an explanation before his shoulders lowered and he said, “Karl told me.”

He frowned. “What?”

“By accident! I was hanging out with him and Sapnap one day, and I admitted that I really liked you, and since he was your friend, I figured he could tell me how to figure out if you liked me back and he accidentally told us that you had a bad experience so it might’ve been why you were so hesitant to be with me.”

George pursed his lips. He knew Karl hadn’t meant any harm from it, but it was still annoying to know his private life was being spoken about. “I see.”

“Is that why you're so hesitant to be with me?"

"Clay, it's just… I don't know if we're right for each other."

Dream stared at him. It was when he felt his breath brush over his skin that he realized they'd instinctively moved closer to each other. He tried to force himself to pull back, but this sort of unexplainable magnetizing aura pulled him closer. 

"What are you so scared of?"

Their lips brushed. It triggered a spark of electricity that rushed down his spine. His bottom lip quivered.

“I’m not scared.”

Dream’s tongue grazed his lip when he wet them. The exhale he let out burned his skin. George’s breath hitched when Dream whispered his next sentence.

“Then kiss me.”

It was different from the first time. Warm. Delicate. Loving. It set off a different kind of fire within this stomach—this longing for him. For Dream. For the way he clung to his waist and the way George gripped the hem of his shirt and pulled him down to deepen their kiss. To melt into his mouth and trigger sparks across his body.

 When they pulled away, they were panting. Their foreheads were pressed together. The wind was wrapping around them like a ribbon pulling them tighter.

“Please,” Dream murmured against his lips. “Just give me a chance.”

George searched his gaze, and there was nothing but longing and affection. He didn’t deserve him—not after what he’d done.

And yet, without a second thought, George ended up making his third biggest mistake of the year.

“Okay.”

.  .  .

 "Hold on, weren't you the one who told us he was just some stupid frat boy who wanted to experiment and get in your pants like barely a few weeks ago?" Wilbur pointed out as George buried his face in his hands.

“I thought he was. But then he confessed to me and… I believe him. I can’t tell him it was a bet. It’ll break his heart.”

“Seriously?” Quackity groaned and stood in front of George with a disappointed look. “Mira rey. You were the one who told us he bet on you. That you didn’t care about what happened to him. What changed?”

George sighed and glanced up at him with a sick stomach. “I realized I like him.”

Wilbur burst into exaggerated cackles until he realized no one else was laughing. “Oh.”

Quackity let out a deep breath and put on a serious expression—a rare expression for him. “Okay then. It’s better if you tell him about the bet now, isn’t it?”

George squeezed his eyes shut. “I know, but I don’t want to hurt him and… I really do want to be with him.”

Quackity sent him a pity glare. "Then you better pray he doesn't find out cause if he does—"

“— you’re fucked,” Wilbur finished.

.  .  .

The weeks passed. And it was both the best and worst time of George’s life.

He wanted to be happy. He really did. But every time he saw the way Dream’s smile shined when he looked at George. Every time he kissed him like he was the only person in the world… George felt like his world was falling apart.

The longer he held it in. The longer this fear lingered in his shadow—that in one second, he could lose it all.

.  .  .

It took two months for George to start feeling safer—to entertain the thought that maybe they could leave this whole bet situation behind. Nobody beside his friends knew, and George was certain they weren’t going to rat him out. 

He was happy.

Karl and Quackity spent the days endlessly teasing him about it by making barfing and smooching noises and disgusting movements with their tongues out. George even grew much closer to Dream’s friend group and even closer to Sapnap who he had found out was actually a pretty cool guy.

It felt like everything was striving toward perfection. Well, at least it was until that Saturday struck.

It was during a football game. The game was about to end, and there were only a few points on the line. Everyone in the stadium watched in anticipating silence (as silent as a stadium could get, that was), and when Dream scored the winning touchdown, the crowd burst into a thousand cheers.

From the stands at the front, George and his friends went feral and began jumping the fence to rush toward the players. It was disorienting for a second with everyone shouting and players dashing about in celebration. George only caught Sapnap throwing his helmet aside and Karl in the background being twirled in the air before he himself was lifted up by a pair of arms and he was bursting into giggles as he faced the sky. Dream pulled him down again to press their lips where they belonged.

He didn’t stop laughing into the kiss, and when his feet pressed into the grass again, he took the chance to wrap his arms around Dream’s neck and deepen the kiss. 

“You guys are disgusting!” Quackity exclaimed.

Only then did George pull away and look behind him to stick his tongue out. Dream took the opportunity to wrap his arms around his waist from behind and pull him close (as close as the padding on his jersey would allow them).

“He’s just jealous he doesn’t get any action,” Sapnap pointed out as he and Karl came up from behind Quackity.

Quackity scoffed, and he was about to open his mouth to spout more bullshit to laugh at until his face fell and he was left in dumbfounded silence.

With befuddlement, George twisted him and Dream around to see what he was staring at when his own stomach sank.

“Georgie!” the familiar blond approached them with his arms extended. He offered a dazzling smile that made him want to throw up on the spot. “Long time no see.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

George could sense Dream’s confusion at the sudden aggression in his voice. His arms loosened up from around George’s waist and he instead slipped one protectively around his shoulder.

Jay’s eyes landed on Dream. His smile was spiteful, and he dug his hands inside his pockets and clicked his tongue. “So this is your new boyfriend, huh? Not gonna lie, Georgie, I feel a little replaced.”

Dream tensed from behind him and his shoulders drew back as he rose to full height. George scowled. “There’s nothing for you here, Jay. Leave.”

“You really need to learn to chill, George, I’m just here to pay a visit to a very important person to me.” His smile tightened as he eyed George.

Dream pulled his arm away from George and then stepped up in front of him to face Jay head-on. For a second, George felt panicked, and he figured Sapnap did too seeing as he was quick to step up beside Dream. “He told you to leave,” Dream snapped.

Jay tensed when he did and the taunting glint in his eyes morphed into hostility. “And who says I’m gonna listen to you?”

In a second, Dream’s hands turned into tight fists on Jay’s shirt, and suddenly everyone was tense and treading carefully near. There was a crowd starting to form around them.

“It’s not worth it, Dream,” Sapnap muttered.

Dream’s grimace didn’t turn any lighter. George came up from behind and stepped beside him. “Sapnap’s right. He just wants trouble, Dream,” he murmured as he reached a hand to his wrist.

His shoulders untensed all the bit, and after a moment, he let go of Jay’s shirt and shoved him back. Jay chuckled with blatant bitterness.

“Get lost, Jay,” Quackity added. “Nobody wants you here.”

Jay rolled his eyes. He pushed his hands into his pockets again and took in the small crowd of whispering strangers around him. His eyes burned into George for one last time before he backed off. “Fine. I’ll see you later, Georgie.”

George didn’t say anything as he watched Jay retreat. And it was only when he was out of view that his shoulders untensed and Dream pulled him close to his side and pressed his lips to the top of his head while holding his hand tight.

“Why would he show up here?” Karl questioned aloud.

“I don’t know. He’s always been a pendejo,” Quackity added.

George searched the crowd, but he didn’t find Jay again. He sighed in relief, and as his sight traced back to his friends, he spotted two eyes boring into him with a nasty sneer.

From the water station, Jess was standing beside the other cheerleaders with her arms crossed. George looked away quickly, though he couldn’t help but feel her eyes on him for the rest of the time.

.  .  .

George was having the worst day. First, he had failed his programming fundamentals exam miserably. Then some girl in the dining hall had accidentally spilled her lemonade on his white shirt and he’d been forced to sit through his next two classes with an obvious yellow stain that looked like some idiot with a piss kink had peed all over his chest. Now, he was stomping out of the computer lab at the technology center just after having seen the ‘not working’ sign hanging off the printer.

As if on cue, two arms wrapped around his stomach and a pair of lips pressed into the crook of his neck.

George scoffed when Dream breathed in deeply and hummed in approval.

“Let me go, you idiot,” George groaned and tried to unlatch his hands from his waist. Dream held on tighter.

“Why is your shirt wet?” Dream mumbled into his skin.

“It’s piss.”

Dream turned him around and scrunched his expression in disgust. Yet he still pressed their mouths together and traced his tongue across his lip. George grumbled against the kiss, but he didn’t push him away.

When Dream did pull away, he smirked and said, “Hot.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“You loooove me.”

“I haaate you.” George pushed him away and started making his way toward his apartment. Dream caught up to his side with an excited hop to his step.

“Sooo what are you doing this evening?”

George scoffed. “What do you think, you idiot? I have a midterm to study for tomorrow.”

“Can I sleep at yours tonight?”

“Of course not. You’re going to be clinging to me for the rest of the night.”

Dream whined and when George turned to him with a disapproving eyebrow raise, he was pouting like a scolded kid. “Come on, Georgie! I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

Dream tossed an arm around his shoulder and tugged him closer. He pressed his lips to the back of his neck. “Pretty pleaseeee?”

“Stop it, Dream! I said no!” George exclaimed though he couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him when Dream whined again and the sound tickled his neck.

“Nobody wants to hang out with me.”

“Because you’re annoying, that’s why. Why don’t you go bother Sapnap or something?”

Dream whimpered. “He’s too busy hanging out with Karl.”

He huffed. “Those two need to confess to each other already.”

“That’s what I keep telling Sapnap!”

He swiped his card to walk into the building and Dream trailed behind him like a lost puppy until they reached his door. George pushed the key inside and sent him a look. “What are you still doing here?”

“I wanna come inside with you.” Dream watched him with a pleading gaze.

Before George could protest, Dream invited himself inside. The apartment was empty considering Quackity was out being a menace per usual and Karl was apparently out with his not-yet-boyfriend, Sapnap.

As George stepped into his room, Dream pulled him into an embrace from behind and started peppering kisses on his neck.

“Dream, stop! You’re like a dog!”

“Everyone says I have golden retriever energy,” he mumbled into his skin like it was something to be proud of. His hands slipped inside George’s shirt and traveled up his chest as he slowly nudged him toward the bed.

“Dreeaaaaam,” George whined as Dream turned him around and pushed him onto the bed, still kissing up to his neck and sending goosebumps all across his back.

“What?” he said with an innocent smile while the tips of his fingers grazed over his stomach and around and up to his shoulders

“I need to study,” George said.

“Just a little longer,” he replied and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.

Much to say, it lasted much longer than “just a little,” and nearly an hour later when George ended up with Dream’s arm around his shoulder and snuggled up against his bare chest under the covers, he slapped his arm and grumbled, “See what I mean when I say you’re a distraction?”

“Ow.” Dream rolled his eyes and rubbed his finger on George’s shoulder. “You weren’t complaining when I was on my knees—”

George pressed a kiss to his lips to shut him up.

When he pulled away, Dream nuzzled his nose against George’s and, with a sickeningly sweet smile, murmured, “Idiot.”

Ten minutes and a few too many hickeys later, George finally slipped out of the bed, even though Dream tried and failed to pull him back. He pulled on his hoodie (which was really Dream’s) and sweatpants.

As he headed to his desk to open up his laptop, he heard Dream’s tiktok turn on and directed him a glare. Though Dream was too busy scrolling to notice his boyfriend’s annoyment.

It was about an hour later that he heard Dream shuffle out of bed and he turned around and sent him a confused look. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, Jess texted me saying she was going to drop something off but that I needed to be there to pick it up.” 

The name left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Oh.”

Dream paused. He furrowed his eyebrows and put on a teasing smile. “Are you jealous?”

He scoffed. “Of course not. Why would I be?”

It didn’t sound convincing even to him. Dream snickered. “I’m not into her, George. You’ve known that since before we started dating.”

“She’s obviously into you.”

“We’re just friends.”

George hummed. He knew that, and yet still, just the idea of Jess being near Dream irked him. It wasn’t so much that he believed Dream would be dishonest with him. Truthfully, it was about the fact that George still wasn’t being completely honest with him. He swiveled back in his chair and glared at his screen. “I know.”

Behind him, Dream shuffled closer and massaged his shoulders. He pressed his lips to the top of his head and then whispered, “I’ll see you tomorrow, baby,” before making his way out of the room.

 The night went on as usual. George lived off of the stash of monsters in Karl’s closet and studied until he was no longer sane. He woke up the next morning to banging on the door. He figured Karl or Quackity would get it, but when the banging continued, he groaned and pushed himself out of bed.

“Who the—” The face he saw on the other side of the door made his blood run cold.

“George.” He grinned.

“What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you too.” He leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed and traced his eyes down George’s frame. “You look great.”

“What do you want?”

He snickered. “You don’t have to be so rude, Georgie.”

Gripping the door frame tight, George clenched his jaw and tried to close the door, but Jay stopped it before it could. “I just want to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Oh please, George, don’t tell me it’s because of that stupid new boy toy you’ve adopted.”

He gritted his teeth. “Don’t call him that.”

His bitter grin widened, and George saw red. “You don’t have to pretend with me. I know you don’t like him.”

“I like him more than I ever did you.”

“Really?” Jay raised an intrigued eyebrow—the way he had always done when he thought he knew something he didn’t. “Didn’t really sound like it when you were talking about dumping him for that bet.”

His stomach dropped.

“When are you planning to do that, by the way? You’ve really been taking your time, Georgie.”

“You don’t know what you're talking about.”

“Oh, don’t I?” Jay laughed. He slipped his phone out of his pocket and pulled up a video from his files. It was a screen recording of a Snapchat story. For a moment, George wasn’t sure why he was showing him a video of a drunk Velvet and Ant making faces at the camera until Jay pulled up the volume, and he heard the voices loud and clear talking over the music in the background.

“Then just do it, man, it’ll be hilarious! You already always talk about how much you hate him. I’m starting to think it’s the opposite.”

“Come on, George!”

“You know what? Fine. I’ll ask him out and then embarrass him in front of his whole team.”

“Ooooh,” Velvet whistled and looked away from the camera with a smirk while Ant kept messing with the cat filter. “Watch out, we got a new heartbreaker in town.”

The recording ended, and George’s heartbeat echoed in his ears. The world grew dizzy and distant around him, and for a brief moment, he wondered if he was having a nightmare, but when he looked down at his hands, he realized he was awake. This was real.

“What’s with the face? Don’t tell me you aren’t planning to actually tell him? You can’t possibly be into that loser.”

“Delete that video.”

“Why?”

“Delete it right now!” 

George tried to reach for the phone, but Jay held it high over his head. He looked down at him with a condescending eyebrow raise.

“Why should I?”

“It’s none of your business?”

“It is. This guy’s obviously not good for you.”

“And you are?”

“I’m certainly a better choice.”

With his head slightly tilted, George stepped closer and glared daggers at Jay. “Fuck. Off.”

“You know, George. I’ve given you a lot of space and time. Just like you asked—”

“I told you to get out of my life.”

“— you know I met this very charming girl recently. She’s a cheerleader actually. We met through a mutual friend during a football game. Coincidentally, it’s the one your boyfriend made the winning touchdown for. The PDA was a little excessive, but you know, I figured it was to make the whole show better. Except you never did admit it was all a bet, so I started digging. And this girl, Jess is her name—”

George’s heart reached his throat.

“She told me she was a very good friend of Dream. Told me all about your ‘relationship’ if you can even call it that. Imagine her surprise when I told her you were my ex or when I told her you were really just with Dream to mess with him.”

“You didn’t.”

“Sent her the video and everything. She found it very interesting… In fact, I think that might’ve been yesterday afternoon and all? By now,” Jay pretended to look at his watch before meeting George’s eyes with a devilish stare. “It should already be out.”

George snatched his keys and closed the door in an instant, fumbling with them a few times before he was able to lock it. He pushed past Jay who didn’t bother stopping him, only stayed back wearing a wicked smile and with his hands in his pockets again.

“He’s not right for you, Georgie. He never was.”

He didn’t bother answering him as he dashed down the stairs and out the apartment complex with only one person in his thoughts and one destination in mind.

.  .  .

It was pouring outside. George hadn’t even bothered to grab a rain jacket or an umbrella when he’d trotted into the heavy rain. Thunder crackled and lightning flashed in the distance. His phone rang in his ear. It sent him to voicemail for the fifth time.

He reached Dream’s house within fifteen minutes, record time seeing as it was usually a thirty-minute walk. He probably looked like a crazy person all drenched and slamming the front door with his fist and continuously ringing the doorbell.

The door opened, and Sapnap’s face fell when he saw him.

“Where is he?”

“You can’t be here right now.”

“Just let me talk to him.”

“George.” Sapnap exhaled harshly. He ran a hand through his hair and seemed conflicted, maybe even a little hurt, as he stared at George. “I’m sorry, but I can’t let you in.”

He tried to close the door on him, but George put his foot in between to stop him.

"Please, Sap. I need to see him," George's voice cracked. "It wasn't… I didn't mean to hurt him." His eyes ached and he wasn’t sure if the drops trailing down his cheeks were from the rain or from him. "I love him." 

Sapnap’s expression turned cold. "Yeah? Well, you should've thought of that before you bet on his heart."

He shut the door, and after dialing Dream’s phone nearly twenty times and standing outside the door for almost half an hour, he left the house with red eyes and carrying the weight of two broken hearts—all of which had been his fault.

.  .  .

It took a week before George managed to talk to Dream. He had been consistently waiting outside his classes and getting to his own late hoping to run into him. Unfortunately, Dream hadn’t been attending class, and it only hurt George more to know that it was his fault.

On the sixth day of trying his strategy, George finally spotted Dream weaving in between the students rushing out of the English building. Needless to say, he looked terrible.

His hair was extra messy. His lips were chapped and they were pressed into a thin line as he shuffled through the crowd. When he saw George, the wide-eyed look of horror that he sent him made the guilt sting harder.

He tried to scramble away, but George managed to catch up.

“Dream, please, I need to talk to you,” George insisted as he trailed on his heels.

“Leave me alone.”

“It wasn’t on purpose, Dream. I swear, I didn’t mean to—” He ran into Dream’s back at full force.

It took him a second to orient himself, and when he looked up again, Dream was facing him. His eyes were red, his jawline was tense, and his eyebrows were creased in what could only be described as a look of vehemence.

 “You push me away for months then randomly tell me you never want to see me again. You ask me out on a date after you tell me to stop pursuing you. You play with my heat for months over some fucking bullshit dare even though your only excuse for not wanting to be with me was because you thought I bet on you . And then you still have the nerve to show up telling me it was all an accident?” Dream laughed. It was cold and dry and it tore into George’s soul.

Considering George had only ever known Dream as smiles and laughter and gentle holds and kindness and even when he was angry, the softness in his eyes had never melted when it came to him, the heartless expression he directed at George made every part of him hurt. “Okay. I’ll give you five minutes to convince me it wasn’t on purpose.”

His vision grew blurrier, and he opened his mouth to find a proper explanation, but he wasn’t able to.

Dream laughed again. He blinked his eyes shut. A tear rolled down his cheek. George’s heart ached. He opened then again, and the anger disappeared from his face—only leaving desolation behind.

“Please, just stop following me, George. I— I’m not like you. I can’t just take things like this and forget about them. You won, okay? Everyone in the goddamn team and my house knows you’ve humiliated me. Isn’t that enough for you?” His tone quivered as he spoke and he pursed his lips tight.

“Just get out of my life,” he said before turning on his heel and rushing away, leaving George frozen to his spot and unable to chase after him.

.  .  .

What am I supposed to do?” George muttered, his words muffled into Karl’s shirt.

Karl rubbed gentle circles on his back and sighed. “Admit you fucked up. Tell him how you feel.”

“He doesn’t even want to see me.”

“It’s barely been a few weeks, George. You really…” he hesitated. “Dream is really hurt. Sap says that sometimes he barely goes out of his room and he has to bring up his food every meal so that he actually eats.”

The words only served to twist the dagger already buried in George’s heart. “I’m the worst person in the existence of the human race.”

“No, you’re not. You fucked up, but you’re not a horrible person, George.”

“How do I fix it?”

Karl hummed. After a moment, he said, “There’s a party after the game next Saturday at his place. Sap told me he was going to do everything he could to convince Dream to get out of his room.”

George pulled away from Karl to look at him with red eyes. Karl sent him a warning, yet sympathetic gaze. “You have one chance.”

.  .  .

It was the first time he’d seen him in almost two weeks. Dream hadn’t noticed him yet. He was standing by the snack table holding a drink and gazing off into the crowd while some girl attempted to talk with him.

George approached, cautiously, and buried his hands in the pockets of Dream’s jacket that had been left in the recesses of his closet. Before he could get any closer, a face that made his blood boil blocked his path.

Jess glared at him with a sick smile. “There’s nothing for you here, George.”

George tried to step around her, but she shoved him back. “You’ve already done enough. Just leave him alone.”

“You haven’t liked me since day one. I don’t have a reason to listen to you when you’ve only ever been looking for a way to break us apart,” he snapped.

Jess dropped her fake smile. She raised a finger and pressed it hard against his chest. “You’re the one who ruined everything. Don’t blame your bullshit on me.”

And before George could reply, Jess retreated toward the corner Dream was loitering next to and stared straight into George’s eyes with a devilish smirk before she wrapped her arms around Dream and brought him down to press a kiss on his neck.

Dream didn’t even flinch.

His throat tightened at the scene and as he was about to step toward them again, an arm slung itself over his shoulder and pulled him toward a new body.

“George! Man of the year! Great to see you again!” Ryan let out a drunk laugh and then wooed into the noisy crowd.

“Let me go,” George tried to unlatch his arm but to no avail. “What do you want?”

“Just wanted to congratulate you on your little stunt. Honestly? I didn’t think you’d have the guts. You really took my bet and turned it on its feet, huh? It’s definitely not what I expected, but I’ll roll with it!” He released his shoulders and reached into his pocket to pull out a chunk of bills to offer to George. “Your prize?”

George’s eyes traced over his shoulder. Dream was staring straight at him. When their gazes met, Dream instantly put his drink down and turned to flee like a frightened stray puppy with his tail tucked between his legs.

Before he could, George rushed toward the speakers and unplugged them, causing the music to die and making everyone in the room groan. He jumped onto one of the chairs by the dining area and whistled. Everyone, including Dream, turned to look at him.

George stared into Dream’s eyes as he announced, “Attention everyone! I want to say something.”

The room quieted down.

“I am an idiot.”

The crowd laughed. Dream frowned.

“There’s this guy I’ve known for a while. I used to hate him. I thought he was annoying, that he talked way too much, and that he was a jerk. Well, I was wrong.”

Dream narrowed his eyes and his fists clenched at his sides, though he didn’t move from his spot.

“He’s actually the sweetest, kindest, most amazing guy I’ve ever met. And I didn’t realize that until after I fucked everything up. I started to really like him even though I never thought I’d seek another relationship again after my past one, and just when I thought I’d give him a chance, someone told me he was only pursuing me because of a bet,” Dream’s expression softened.

“I was angry and hurt and I pushed him away, and when someone made a bet with me to break his heart in public, I took it because I thought it would help me stop hurting. And then I realized he was such an amazing person and even though I didn’t want to build our relationship on lies, I was too scared to lose the one person who made my life complete again. Because I never thought someone like him, someone so thoughtful and warm, would look at someone like me.”

George forced a smile and a sniffle escaped him. He wiped the tear from his cheek and kept his eyes on Dream’s shocked expression. Because George had never been one to speak from the heart. He had never been one to stand up in a crowd of people and actively admit his fuck-ups. He had never been one to show off their affection in public or wear his heart on his sleeve. That had always been Dream.

“I know I probably don’t deserve him or even an apology for that matter, but I can’t live with myself without letting him know how I feel.” He took a deep breath. “So you don’t have to forgive me, but I just wanted to let you know—I love you, Dream.”

Chit-chatter spread across the crowd. Some people whistled while others clapped and others just shouted to turn the music back on. Eventually, someone did, and George stepped down from the chair, though he made the mistake of stepping on his foot wrong and stumbled forward into… a familiar and warm embrace.

When he looked up, Dream stared at him with a wide beam and that revitalized spark in his eyes. It was only then that George realized how much he had.

“Hi,” he managed after a second of staring in a breathtaking silence.

His cheeks warmed when he heard Dream wheeze. Dream rubbed a gentle finger across his jaw and pressed their foreheads together, not breaking his fond stare.

“You’re such an idiot, you know that?”