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George has talked in his sleep since he was young. His mom pointed it out one morning, asking if he’d always done that. He didn’t know. What he did know was that in his most vulnerable state, he could be spewing out his deepest secrets and confessions to anyone who happened to walk in his room. He knew he couldn’t control what he said, but he could control other things. So, from that day on, he would lock his door and shove a t-shirt in the crack of it, hoping to soundproof whatever he’d say that night while sound asleep. And it worked, up into George’s adult years.
Sure, he was still anxious about sleepovers with his friends, or letting a date come up to his apartment. What if he woke them up with his sleep-talking? What if they heard what he said and used it against him? Judged him for it? He didn’t think he could handle it, so he just avoided those situations with his whole being. It was a bit hard to keep relationships this way, but it worked better. It made George more comfortable.
But, it got to a point where he felt more curious than nervous about it. What was he saying? What did he talk about when he wasn’t awake? He’d had sleep cycle trackers before, but none that could tell him what he said. Then one day, he got an ad for an app that records your sleep, meant for sleeptalkers. George was a bit scared when he did it the first time, but when he listened back to it in the morning, it was just mumblings, a bunch of words that didn’t mean anything. Knowing that lifted a huge weight off his shoulders, but he never did stop recording himself.
Not even when he was finally able to move to America.
The fluorescent light in the kitchen is the only light George has while he eats his dessert after dinner. He dunks his Oreo in his milk and waits for it to get soft. But, it is a bit hard to enjoy it fully with Dream sitting right next to him, staring him down.
“Dream, I’ve had Oreos before, this isn’t something new.”
“But, that’s where you’re wrong! This is an American Oreo, I looked it up, ours are thicker and taste different.”
George scoffs, “That’s just not true.” Dream starts spinning around in his stool while George finishes his cookie, rolling his eyes.
He can’t let Dream know, but this is what he was missing when he was living alone in London. Just hanging out, doing normal things.
By the time George finishes his last cookie, Dream looks ancy. Drumming his hands on the counter and tapping his feet on the floor, he looks like he has a song stuck in his head.
“Dream, what are you doing?”
He throws his head back in exasperation. “I’m bored! I want to do something!” George glances at the clock on the oven, and chuckles.
“It’s almost three o’clock. We can’t do anything.” Even as he says this, George cringes internally, knowing that if they didn’t do anything, they’d just go to their rooms. George would be up for hours by himself. He hadn’t been getting any sleep since he moved here. He forgot how nerve-wracking it was living with people. Even though it’s his two best friends, it’s still embarrassing.
“What do you mean? There’s so much we can do.” Dream gets up and starts pacing. Sometimes George gets tired watching Dream have so much energy.
“Wait, I know! Let’s go driving.” George looks at him with a flat stare while Dream gives him a huge smile, all proud.
“Are you joking? It’s the middle of the night, and it’s dark. What’s the point of going driving?” Dream starts walking away, towards his room. George gets up to follow him, grabbing one more cookie before leaving the kitchen.
“Night drives are the best, you don’t always have to be going somewhere. You don’t know this because you can’t drive, but it’s fun, especially at night. There’s no one around, so you can go as fast or be as reckless as you want. You can go to the outskirts of town and blast your music, or you could roll your windows down and cruise. It feels like you’re the only person awake, alive. It’s the best.” George leans up against the door frame, watching Dream search frantically for his car keys.
“So I’m guessing you take a lot of night drives?” Dream straightens up and faces him.
“I mean, sure. You could say that. Whenever I’ve been in the house for too long, or I get in my head about a video, something like that. It’s like a brain refresh for me.” He goes back to his task at hand, and George watches him for a second.
“I could do with a brain refresh.”
“Yes, I knew I could convince you! And I finally found my keys!”
“You wanna wake Sapnap up and have him beg to come with us? Quiet down, idiot, or else I’m not coming.” Dream just rolls his eyes and grabs the brunette by the hand.
Going 90 down this empty road at the dead of night was not something George thought he’d ever be doing. Driving had always seemed like a chore, boring but necessary. But, watching Dream fiddle with the radio until he finally finds a song he likes and sort of mumble along with it while he drives, is helping George see the appeal. The blonde always seems in his element when he’s doing something, and since he’s usually alone when he goes driving, Dream seems more at ease. Natural.
George speaks up, trying to be louder than the radio. “How often do you do this?”
Dream glances at him quickly, from the corner of his eye. He slows the car a bit and turns the music down. “Not so much anymore. When it was just me and Sap, I would do this to be alone sometimes, if he was getting on my nerves or being too loud. But, when he would leave to go home or meet up with someone, I’d do it all the time. The house was just so empty without him, it kind of freaked me out. One time, I tried to take Patches with me, but she was flipping out the whole ride. The only other time she ever goes in the car is for her vet appointments, so she probably thought I was taking her there. I never tried that again.” He chuckles softly at the memory.
By now, George has turned completely in the passenger seat, facing Dream, listening intently to his story.
“But, now that you’re here, I don’t really feel like I need to. If I start feeling lonely or anxious, I just come hang out in your room.”
This throws George for a loop. “Wait, really?”
Green eyes meet brown for a quick second before they focus back on the road, preparing for a left turn. “I mean, yeah. Before you got here, I would just text you and ask you to hop in a voice call. But now, I don’t have to. You’re just right down the hall, it’s so much easier to hang out, be around you.”
George understands this. Back in London, Dream felt like this unreachable being, almost not real. He had refused to see the blonde’s face, convinced that seeing it first in real life was the best option. What he didn’t realize was how much that would affect their relationship. George has known, since very early on in their friendship, that it was very different and more intense than any other friendship he’d ever had. But, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, there was always this mental wall in his mind, imposing and impenetrable, blocking him from feeling any closer to the younger man. In voice calls was when he could feel it the most.
Now that he was here, that wall was gone. And sometimes he couldn’t tell if he felt free or just exposed.
George clears his throat slightly. “Is that weird? Having me around all the time?”
Dream rolls down his window and sticks his hand out, feeling the air card through his fingers. “No. At first, it was. It felt like too much at the same time. Being friends with you is different than it is with Sapnap. A lot of build-up and anticipation was riding on me meeting you. I was afraid I wouldn’t live up to your expectations. But, when you finally got here, all of that disappeared. It felt like you had always been here.”
“You weren’t afraid of me not being what you thought?”
The blonde thinks for a second then says, “I mean, maybe for a little bit. But, most of that came from Sapnap’s jokes about it. Remember he would always talk about you being different in person, and how we’d have to send you back if we didn’t like you?” George smirks.
“I always knew he was just joking, but when we finally got the news about your visa getting approved, I really started thinking about it. That it was finally happening. The waiting with no end in sight was over; it wasn’t a matter of ‘if’ anymore, it was a matter of ‘when’. That just made you seem more real, I guess. I wasn’t afraid of you not being what I thought, I was just afraid of you being, if that makes any sense.”
George searches Dream’s face for a clue into what he might be feeling, proof that he’s just as nervous. The two of them have had talks like this before, but never this sincere. Dream hasn’t really cracked any jokes yet or poked fun. It’s not bad, it just feels different.
“It makes sense, Dream.” The slight second where viridian eyes leave the road, George makes sure to catch them, and put all his feelings into that quick glance. Even though he can’t think of anyone he’s closer to, he still finds himself hesitating to say what he’s thinking. Dream took the words he couldn’t say right out of his mind and said it for him, so George is hoping that his eyes can say what he can’t.
The warm smile he gets in return is all he needed. He lays back against his seat, letting Dream turn the radio up again. The warm Florida air wafts against his cheeks as he turns his attention to the inky black night sky. He hasn’t been this comfortable in a while, especially in a car. Maybe it’s because no one else is around, or maybe it’s just who's driving. Either way, George can feel the tension slowly lifting off his shoulders. He’s not used to feeling so at ease.
They sit in relaxed silence, then it starts happening before George can realize it. The slight vibration coming from the car’s engine. The soft music pouring out from the speakers. The heated seats that Dream had insisted were a need in any car. The safety and security he only felt when he was around his blonde friend.
This car ride was lulling him to sleep. He starts panicking silently, startling himself out of his cozy state. He can’t fall asleep. Not here, in front of Dream. This is too much. Too fast. He shakes the sleep out of his head, and blinks it away from his eyes.
“George, you okay over there?”
The brunette’s cheeks warm and he shrinks in his seat. “Yeah. I’m fine. But, do you think we could head back now? I have something to do in the morning, and it’s kind of late.”
From the corner of his eye, he sees Dream’s shoulders drop in disappointment.
“Sure. I was getting tired, too.” He flips a quick u-turn, and George silently sighs, from relief or regret, he can’t tell.
After that night, Dream seemed normal. George still wasn’t quite sure how to act, what steps to take. But if he didn’t press, things would stay good. So, George did what he did best. Repress whatever he was confused about, whatever he was feeling, to stay comfortable. But, then one night, when Sapnap was out with Punz, Dream had insisted that they watch a movie in the living room.
“Oh come on, George! I’m sure that you’ll love it, it’s my favorite movie.”
“Dream, I hate movies. Just because it’s your favorite one doesn’t mean I’ll like it.”
“Just trust me. If you end up hating it, you never have to watch another movie with me again. Okay?” George groaned and flopped down on the couch, sprawling out as far as his body would let him.
“If you don’t move, I’ll just have to sit on you.” George yelped and gathered himself up into a ball. Dream chuckled and settled down close to him, pressing play on the movie.
About thirty minutes into the film, George knew he was in trouble. Dream had noticed him shivering a bit earlier, and laid a warm blanket around him. The blonde also radiates a ton of heat, making George feel extra cozy. It was a quiet movie, with nice music constantly playing in the background. The lights were warm and dimmed. His eyes were starting to feel heavy.
George was getting tired. It was so tempting to just slump over and curl into Dream’s side, let a protective arm tuck around him. But, he couldn’t. Right? George was so tired that the reasons slipped his mind entirely. He hadn’t been sleeping well recently, even more so than before the night of the car ride. He never did well sleeping in new places, and with the returning stress surrounding his sleep-talking, he almost never had energy.
“Dream, I’m tired.” All George feels is an arm circle around his shoulders and slowly pull him close, until his head is resting on Dream’s chest. He lets out a contented sigh, and almost immediately falls asleep. But not before hearing Dream say, “It’s alright. Just sleep, George.”
When he finally wakes up, he’s in his bed. It’s still dark outside and the clock on his bedside table says it’s just past midnight. He must’ve really fallen asleep on the couch and Dream probably carried him to his room after the movie was done. The blanket the blonde had wrapped around him earlier was now wrapped up in his arms. George is such a light sleeper, he’s surprised that he didn’t wake up when Dream moved him.
But now that he’s awake, he knows that he probably won’t be able to fall back asleep. He sighs in defeat and walks over to his computer, hoping maybe he’ll be able to make the rest of this night at least a bit productive. But as it’s booting up, he stops and thinks. He was able to sleep with Dream around. He’s never been able to do that with anyone else before. He could just have another long lonely night, pretending to edit a video and hurting his eyes; or he could sleep. He just has to find Dream.
If he doesn’t think about it too much, this is normal. He’s able to get good sleep when he’s sleeping with his friend. That’s all he’s doing. He’s sure Dream wouldn’t mind. But, as George is tiptoeing down the hall towards the blonde boy’s room, he starts to get second thoughts. This is weird. This is an invasion of privacy. This is the exact thing George hopes and prays people won’t do to him. He can’t do this.
But even with all this reasoning, the moment he inches the door open and spots Dream fast asleep, snuggled in his duvet and his arm wrapped around a pillow, George’s body loses all tension. He wants to be that peaceful. Now that he’s come this far, he can’t make himself leave.
He decides that he will sleep in here, that Dream’s bed is big enough for them both. The tired brunette delicately forms a pillow barrier and slowly settles himself down on the soft bed. Before he can get comfortable, he remembers his sleep app. A backup, so that if he does end saying something and waking Dream up, he’ll know and be able to apologize. He plugs his phone into Dream’s charger so it doesn’t die while recording. One last lingering doubt starts to pop into his mind, but his eyes are already shutting. He falls asleep to the sound of Dream’s fan and the soft breathing coming from the other side of the bed.
If the sun wasn’t shining directly in his eyes, George would still be sleeping. He sits up and stretches, a smile on his face. He hasn’t slept that well in years. He looks to the left of the bed and is a bit disappointed to see it empty. That means Dream got up before him and knows that he slept in here. But, at this point, he’d rather explain that away than have missed out on such good sleep. He grabs his phone and blanket to make his way back to his room.
The sleep recording on his phone is burning a hole in his pocket, almost daring him to press play. He plugs in his earphones and presses play. This is what he usually does; he goes about his day listening to the recording, after he’d realized it keeps him off his phone, and he’s able to focus on other things.
It isn’t until about an hour before lunchtime that he starts hearing something. Someone’s turning over in their sleep. Some more rustling of blankets and then it stops. He hears someone rubbing their face and groan lightly. Dream.
George flinches when he hears the blonde’s raspy morning voice start to say something.
“George? What? I thought for sure I put you in your room after the movie was done. There’s no way.. Hmm. Well, at least you’re getting some sleep. It’s been killing me having to notice your eye bags get darker and not be able to say anything. I wish you would talk to me about it. Whatever it is that’s bothering you.”
A bit of silence is what it takes for George to realize that he’s been holding his breath.
“I’ve never seen your face like this. Your eyebrows always get this little crease in between ‘em, like you’re always focused on something. Your face seems softer right now. You seem peaceful. If you have to sleep in here every night just to be able to look like this more often, to get rid of your eye bags, I’ll let you. I’d do anything for you, George.”
His breath catches.
“I say it a lot, and you probably take it as a joke. But, I mean it. Every single time. You’re so important to me. This is what I was trying to tell you in the car, during our drive, but it kind of scares me. You scare me, in the best way…”
It isn’t until now that George realizes what this all is. What he hoped it’d be. What he’s terrified of it being.
“I think I love you, George. More than I’ve ever loved anyone else. Fuck. I wouldn’t be saying any of this if you weren’t sleeping. Just saying it now is terrifying. What if you don’t feel the same way? What if everything is inside my head? It’d ruin me. But now, I’m not even sure if I want things to stay the same. Having you here has just dialed everything up, to the point where I can’t ignore it anymore. You’re here and I love you. That’s good enough for me. It’ll probably take me months to work up the courage to tell you this when you’re actually able to hear it. But, just to say it is enough.”
Another beat of silence, like Dream’s hesitating. George hears a dip in the bed and then a small kiss. Dream kissed his forehead. Another dip and then retreating footsteps. He stops the recording.
It isn’t until he reaches up to touch where Dream kissed him that George realizes he’s crying. He’s never heard Dream talk like that, to anyone. It was so honest and real, something he is not at all used to. In George’s most vulnerable state, Dream was able to say how he really felt. The blonde was able to be sensitive for him.
George needs to find him, tell him that he knows, and that he feels the same. Something he didn’t even know until he heard Dream say it. Hearing them from anyone else would have been wrong. And now he knows that Dream needs to hear it from him. He gets up and reaches for the doorknob, but it starts turning before he can get to it. The taller man on the other side of the door looks at him with a smile, which quickly turns into a frown.
“George, why are you crying?” He just smiles and looks deep into viridian eyes.
“I love you, Dream.”