Work Text:
There are times when you feel down for no reason at all. It feels as if your energy was sucked out of your body and you felt nothing at all. It came out of nowhere, the feeling of your soul separating your body. It tires you to the point you don't know why and it's as if you ran miles getting chased but all you did was watch a movie while lying down on a sofa.
Everyone had felt this feeling. It's as if you need something but that ‘thing’ you don't know. It's as if you are yearning for nothing at all, desperately digging dirt with nails and finding nothing, and yet you still try. You're so desperate to get rid of the feeling and at one point you get used to it and you let it, tired that nothing works at all.
Tired of trying to know ‘what’ it is you want, confused to the point you're stressing about nothing at all and it gets you irritated more than you already are. And then you stop trying, trying to find a reason and the solution for whatever made you feel like this, this feeling that you don't even know how to explain, this feeling of nothing but confusion and sadness and yearning.
At one point, you stop, hoping that maybe, the solution comes to you by itself. Hoping that someday, this feeling of ‘nothing’ stops appearing so often, that the solution comes and helps you, helps to reduce this feeling of ‘nothing’
Reduce feeling empty and emotionless.
-
He lay his head on the table, arms tucked into his face and stares at his phone for as long as the phone is willing to ring, or the person across the ocean to respond to his text.
Dream taps his fingers on the hardwood table, humming a song as he waits for his best friend to reply. Timezones suck.
“ I miss you, “ he whispers to the serene air and although he talked to George a couple of hours ago, he still misses him.
He sighs, quickly typing out a message- ‘text me if you see this <3’ and tucks his phone into his pockets. He stood up, stretches, and walks to his bed.
He lies there, staring at the fan twirl and twirl. The room was quiet, Sapnap was out with Punz, staying at his house so he was alone, in this big house filled with nothing but plain furniture. It was silent, too silent.
The house was quiet, too quiet for his mind, and he needed something. There's a time when he's grateful for a time of peace like this but there's also a time when he hopes to never experience this quietness because it felt like something was missing, and he knows nothing of it.
He wants something but that ‘something’ he doesn't know, he doesn't know what it is, he tries but he doesn't know what he's trying to do. Hopeless.
It's perhaps because he's alone, laying on his bed (missing George, maybe) but a tear slips, falling at the side of his face, he wipes it to get rid of the evidence, laughing quietly. “Why am I crying?” he whispers to no one, in fact, he wishes for the room or whoever responds. A tear that represents feelings that he, himself doesn’t know of. He hates it. Everyone hates it.
He rolls to his side, sniffles, and more tears fell. It's this sudden outburst that got him thinking that, maybe, he’s ludicrous just crying out of nowhere. This emotion sucks, it appears out of nowhere and ruins him, ruins everyone.
He wipes his face harder, trying to stop himself from crying. There's nothing that made him cry, there's no reason for him to cry. The tears suddenly slip and now they can't stop falling.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. ‘Maybe sleep helps.’ he tucks himself under the covers, rolls to his left, and hugs the empty pillow. One day, maybe someone would lay beside him, and help him in these silly situations where he cries for no reason at all.
Hopefully, one day that person could be someone he knows, someone he wishes for, someone, and maybe that someone could be specific, him .
-
He hits the button, ‘enter’ hard. It loads, and finally, he finishes editing. He looks at his desk where a clock is positioned. He read, ‘19:00’.
It took him seven hours to edit his video, nonstop. There's time, just like this one when he gets hyper-focused on his task and he wouldn't realize that it's been hours since he last eat or drink.
He checks his phone and has thirty missed calls from ‘someone’. Dream, to be specific. Although Dream could go through his ‘do not disturb,’ his ears were too occupied and his whole soul was on a different planet while he was editing.
He stood up from his chair, along with his phone, and went to get a drink. it has been almost the whole day ever since he last stuffed his stomach with anything, he gulped down two cups of water, sighing after finishing the last cup.
He went back to his room, tired as hell, and scrolled down to the missed calls and some other messages. He considered calling Dream tomorrow, in case he was asleep or busy, but as he hovered his thumb on the call button, he accidentally clicked it, and the screen changed.
“Oh fuck it's on a video call,” he whispers harshly, his fingers moving as fast to hang up before Dream picks up. Nevertheless, his fingers and reflexes were too slow because the person behind the screen picks up.
-
A specific ringtone rang throughout his room, a sound he was too familiar with. No matter what situation he's in, cooking, showering, and even sleeping, his fingers touch the green button without a second thought and immediately bring him to another screen, which at most, shocked him enough that his eyes were wide open, too wide for a person with eyes after crying enough tears out.
He gasps, immediately pointing the camera to the ceiling. He coughs, clearing his throat. He tries to cover up that he was asleep while crying before that. “Hey...George,” after a moment of silence.
His voice croaks at the end, adding the awkward tension that appeared right as he answers the call. The other line was quiet, and as he tries to look at the camera without showing his face, which is at that moment puffy and swollen from crying, he caught a glimpse of George.
His heart got caught in wires. It felt like his blood stopped moving, his whole body felt like it was floating in space, frozen.
George looked beyond gorgeous. The way rose cherries paint his cheeks and the way his eyes shine while scrunches his face with his hands hiding his mouth just as he tries to hide the tomato red on his face.
Dream grins, and while he was distracted, he tilted his screen to get a better view, mind drawn away by the view on his screen.
A squeak came out of the speaker of his phone, and conceivably, it shocked him. To the extent that he almost threw his phone away, figuring out that it was maybe an animal of some sort.
-
His face was red like roses and he knew it was evidently with the way Dream reacted. It was his first time seeing Dream in months and he looked... Breathtaking.
It looked like he was asleep with a hint that he might be crying before he fell asleep. Other than that, he looked like a very expensive piece of art, painted for years. God must have taken a lot of time to create him.
He looked majestic, the type of person that George might be into. Other than that, he was already charming as hell before he even know what this good-looking guy looks like.
It adds a bit of, flavor to his dish.
Admiring him and complimenting Dream has always been George’s thing, and although he's seen his face multiple times, he couldn't just believe this is his boyfriend.
He probably did a little ‘squeak’ but other than that, he won't know what else. If his first impression of seeing Dream for the first time in months was bad, he might consider being a time traveler and going back in time and taking a bit of time to get ready. He didn't expect Dream to pick up.
“Did you just squeak?” Dream questioned, tilting his head even though he could only look at the top of his head.
He probably realized that he was face-timing him. “Uhh,” he replied, too stunned to reply. It was, very...awkward to the least.
It was a short silence before a laugh appear, it was quite low, very seductive. “What, too alarmed to answer?” Dream replied, the phone moving to show his face.
This cheeky, egotistical bastard.
“Shut up idiot,” George clicked his tongue, rolling his eyes. He rolls to the other side after his body felt like it was about to be numb, placing his phone near to get a clear view of the person on the screen face. He will not pass on this lifetime opportunity.
He took the time to stare, admiring all the features that he have never seen before, after only getting some sneaky ‘pictures’ that are not all of his faces and always ‘something’ else for months, Dream teasing him as always, arguing that he doesn't look his best when George tries to get some.
“Why did you call me?” Dream asked, almost in a whisper tone when he said that. It's like he trip over his words, tumbling horribly and it makes George laugh.
“Why are you laughing?” his words intercept with his laughs. It was moments like this George wished he could replay again, sweet nothings that are meanless that made him want to go back and enjoy time with the guy near him by screen and far apart by an ocean.
“Did you cry?” after they calmed down, George asked. A question for the vulnerability they show for only each other. Dream coughed, and moved his camera away from his face.
“Why did you cry?” he asked again, he knew Dream avoids to answer because he was bad at lying, and half of it was because he knew he couldn't lie to George.
“I don't know,” Dream sighed to the pillow, followed by a muffled sigh. George gave him time to think, whether he would like to tell him or not. Continued, “I felt like it, I just need someone,” he whispered, sniffing. He faces the camera, tears apparent on his face, he wipes it and smiles.
“I'm so stupid, I don't even know why I'm crying,” he croaks out a laugh, tears streaming. “I don't know why,” he repeated, wiping his face harshly.
“You have me,” George replied, smiling softly. He's bad at sending words, receiving is all he knows but he tries. For Dream. “You can talk to me,” He continued, “I'll be here,” and Dream nodded, wiping his wet face. “But you're busy,” He whispers, putting the phone away to get a clear view of the brown-eyed man.
“You didn't pick up,” he almost whines, and perhaps George finds it cute the way he acts like a puppy in need. “I'm sorry baby,” the word slips like ice.
“You promise?” He holds out his pinkie in front of the camera and George just wants to pinch his cheeks and put him in his pockets. Nevertheless, George giggled, pulling his pinkie out. “Promise,”
And Dream smiled.
-
“When will you come home?” Dream asked, rolling to his side while he hold the pillow in front of him.
(”pretend this is you,” Dream smiled at the camera, pointing at the pillow in front of him. He pulls the pillow towards him, hugging the pillow tightly. “I am giving you the tightest hug you will suffocate,” and George just giggles.)
“Maybe next month, I need to finalize some of my work here, I'll come home as quick as I can,” he answers, also holding a pillow.
(”Do it with your pillow!” Dream pouts while George denies it, laughing. “Fine,” George lets out a sigh, pulling the pillow towards him. He scrunches his nose, tugging his pillow to his chest. “Yay,” Dream laughed.)
Dream saddens, pushing his face to the pillow. “I want you here now,” he whines and groans, pouting to the camera when he takes his face out of the pillow.
George laughs, cooing. “I'll be with you soon,” Dream smiles, resuming to pout after a bit. “I want to cuddle with you,” he said, tightening his hold on the pillow and George turn red cherries.
Dream continued, “I want to hug you like this-” he grips to pillow hard. “-and cuddle with you,” he pats the pillow, “-and...kiss you,” he mumbled the words at last.
My dear heaven. If George was extremely red before, he was awfully redder now. George sighs, shaking his head. “Soon,” he smiled to the camera lovingly.
“Okay,” Dream nodded like a puppy. He is so adorable, who could resist him?
George laughs, finding it precious how he obeys him, “You’re such an idiot,” and he may not mean it, too in love to care if his lies is transparent.