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Dream had grown up relatively poor. Not really poor, his parents made sure to remind him at least once a day that many people had it worse, so much so it was like a mantra in his household. And he preferred saying he came from a humble household, rather than a poor one. And he didn't really mind it, it didn't matter to him anymore, and it was the reason he'd met his best friend. He and Sapnap both came from similar living situations, and they'd become friends at a young age, vowing to stick together forever. His father, like any other, wanted his son to become a royal knight. It was a prestigious title, it meant hard work, it meant status.
So, Dream trained. With nothing but a stick and an old scarecrow his parents weren't using anymore, and his occasional 'duel' with Sapnap, he trained everyday, ever since the day he learned if he didn't become a knight, he'd be nothing. And all that training paid off, because he was soon the best fighter town, and once he and his parents had saved enough, he was able to go to an actual academy, along with Sapnap of course. They'd learn little literature, or math, or science. Their sole purpose was to protect the King and his family, so they'd find no use from those skills. Instead, they learned to fight, they learned everything they needed to learn to be knight. It was everything Dream had ever dreamed of. It was going great.
Except one, minor, detail.
There was one thing he didn't like. It wasn't the academy, or the waking up before the sun had risen, or dirty bathrooms, or little food. No, it was his new 'roommate'. The academy had decided to assign roommates, and Dream was unlucky enough to get the one guy he didn't like.
George Henry Davidson.
A little older than him, George came from a more noble bloodline, but not extremely so. Still enough to get called names though. Dream didn't know why he was even here, since all the man ever did was read. He read in the morning, he read at lunch, he read during training, he just read, and read, and read. It infuriated him. Because if he didn't wanna be there, then why had he come. So many people wanted a spot there, and then came this idiot, taking one of those precious spots, just to read. Honestly, he should've just became a scribe.
So, every morning, he had to wake up, and pretend the man didn't cause him insatiable anger.
And Dream wouldn't have been so quick to jump to conclusions and give the man the official title of his 'enemy', but George seemed to hate his guts too. Every day, he'd catch George staring daggers at him, just for him to go right back to reading whenever they made eye contact. There were never any "Good mornings" exchanged, not even small talk whenever they were paired up, George just avoided him each and every time he could.
So, on one hand he hated George Henry Davidson.
And on the other hand, he had to admit the man made him feel something.
George was undeniably attractive, but not in the way he was supposed to find guys attractive. He thought he was, hot. He had fair and beautiful skin, he had deep, dark, chocolate-colored eyes, and plump, pink lips. He had the brightest smile, paired with the prettiest face; he was gorgeous. He knew he shouldn't think of him like that, but he couldn't help it. His father had found him staring at another boy when he was younger, and the man had made it very clear what he and society thought about men who liked other men. But George was just, well, George.
But he thinks that maybe, maybe, George was also like him. George looked at him too, and when Dream had tried to talk to him, he'd turn red from the tips of his ears down to his neck, and Dream had found it adorable. But George may not be like him, and George could get him kicked out of the academy if he found out and told anyone, so there was no way he was telling George. And Sapnap probably already knew, judging by the way he looks at Dream after he'd catch him staring at George.
~~~
To be completely frank, George hated this academy. His father had forced him to attend, thinking it will "drive the homosexuality away" (his father's words, not his). George knew that wouldn't happen, but he hadn't really felt like arguing. All he ever did was read, sleep, and eat, so it really wasn't too different from home. Except for one, little thing. He had a roommate.
Maybe the hottest man he's ever seen, he'd come here with a friend, their names were Dream and Sapnap. So, his roommate, Dream, seemed to hate him. He didn't really know why, but he had guessed it was about his blatant lack of effort and interest in the academy. Dream was the best fighter there, by far, that was probably why the academy had paired them. But anyway, Dream was hot. And George liked him, but Dream hated him. But really, you couldn't blame him. Dream was tall, maybe 6'3, and George was 5'9, so you can imagine the difference. Dream also had very, very defined muscles. He knew because he was his roommate for Christ's sake, and Dream liked walking around shirtless. The group also had to shower together, but from the 30 or so people in that room, the only person that caught his eye was Dream (he'd be lying to say he hadn't looked at his, y'know, parts). Dream was also funny, and kind, and always helped everyone who asked and it worked wonders to fuel the flame that had started in George's heart.
It had been a regular night, and George had decided to take a walk. He was walking by the flower garden, and even though he couldn't see the colors properly, they looked beautiful. What he hadn't realized though, was that he wasn't alone.
"Well, well, well. Would ya look who it is. It's the homo kid that never does shit, other than read" Not what he had been expecting, and he knew that he should feel offended, but he saw the knives the other five men were carrying, and felt nothing but fear.
"Hey, look, we can talk about this, right? I haven't done anything, please. Please" He tried to flee, he tried to flee, but he knew what was going to happen, and there nothing he could to stop it. He knew it, and they seemed to know too. "And what are you gonna do about it, fag".
~~~
George, goody two-shoes George, George that's never late and always goes to bed as soon as the lights were out, was missing. George was missing. He had gone out to take a walk, and he did't come back. Dream tried to convince himself he didn't care, but he did. He cared so much for the older man, and he didn't know what to do. He was pacing, watching the clock, when suddenly, the door creaks and on the other side-
~~~
He's limping through the hall, using his good leg to support his weight as he makes his way toward his room. The guys had severely beaten him up, he was sure he had several bruises, but his biggest concern was really his leg. They had used the knife to make a large gash in it, and every time he stood on it, a sharp pain ran all the way up his spine. He felt tears prick at his eyes, he'd done nothing, he didn't even know how the men had found out he was gay, but he guessed it wasn't pure coincidence they found him in the garden. But he couldn't take it anymore. He was tired of the insults, that slurs and the mistreatment, he was tired of not being able to do anything to defend himself. After what felt like hours, he's at the door, and once he opens it, he's met with his roommate pacing back and forth. The moment they meet eyes, the taller man's eyebrows furrow in anger.
"Who did this to you?"
The look in Dream's eyes is a mix of anger, concern, and anxiety; until he properly looks him up and down, assessing his injuries. Then it could only be described as fury. He grabs George (with gentleness he'd never felt before from the younger), and sits him on the bed. Then he's taking his clothes off and guiding him to the shower. They knew they could both get into immense trouble by using it without permission, but the circumstance called for such action. The dirt and grime and blood on him were washed off with loving hands, and he was just so tired, he felt his eyelids begin to close, and having used up his last bit of energy, he fell asleep in Dream's arms.
He woke up bandaged, clean and in new clothes (clothes that definitely belonged to Dream), but it was still night out. He didn't know if Dream had already been awake, or if the movement woke him, but he was suddenly at his side, and George could do nothing but stare into emerald eyes. "Why'd you help me?" He expected a cold answer, something dumb like 'it was the knightly thing to do', but instead, Dream smiles slightly and whispers into his ear, "I love you".
For the time it took George to fall asleep once again, they exchanged silent love confessions, promises for the future, and maybe they undressed each other again, though for completely different reasons. It was nobody's business but theirs.
~~~
It had taken a lot of convincing, but Dream had managed to get a description out of George of the five men who attacked him. And the following night, while George slept, he went out to find them, and give them a taste of their medicine. If George noticed five people matching the descriptions missing from the next mornings head count, he didn't mention it. If he found it suspicious the instructor said they'd left due to 'inability to carry out physical activities due to major injury', he only showed it by a small smile, and a squeeze of Dream's hand.