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George didn’t know what was happening as he cracked Dream’s door open. He didn’t know what time it was or if Dream was even awake, but he had spent too many hours listening to Sapnap blast music to stay in one place.
It wasn’t until the door creaked open and Dream looked up from his phone that George realized what he had done. He had snuck into Dream’s room in the middle of the night, unannounced and without a real reason to be there. There were plenty of extra rooms in the house- hell, the couch was so comfortable he had fallen asleep there by accident a few times. But instead he was standing at Dream’s door, searching for some made-up excuse for his intrusion.
“George?” Dream said, always soft and always caring. For George, the past few months living in this house had felt like being on one end of two magnets. Constantly flipping, pushing, or pulling. It made him dizzy, the way Dream slowly learned how much George loved physical affection and sweet nothings. All of the sappy things George made fun of when he was an ocean away.
And that was hard, having someone know him so well. Dream could look at him and guess exactly what he wanted to watch or where he wanted to go eat. He could finish George’s sentences or understand what he wanted to say when it was too hard for him to say it. It was a closeness George had never known before.
And it was fucking terrifying.
“Hey,” George said back, not moving from where he stood in the door frame. “I couldn’t sleep, Sapnap’s been listening to music.”
“It’s that loud?”
“Yeah, he’s an idiot,” George laughed, not wanting to admit just how thin the walls really were.
Dream didn’t let his gaze waver from where George stood, and slowly his hand holding his phone lowered to the bedsheet. There was a moment of awkward silence where George let himself linger, not too sure what he planned on doing. He hadn’t thought it through, he just managed to pull himself out of bed and take the walk to Dream’s door.
“Do you want to come sit?” Dream asked, with hesitation. It wasn’t just a question, it was a confirmation. Yes, it’s okay. Don’t be nervous, Dream was saying through his innocent invitation. George always knew it was, but hearing it from Dream’s mouth made something inside him click.
It’s okay. Don’t be nervous .
George rolled his eyes and shut Dream’s door behind him. Dream just grinned sheepishly as he patted the spot next to him on the bed. Batting his hand away, George climbed under the covers before Dream could start protesting. George knew he wouldn’t, though.
“What are you watching?” George asked as he glanced over at his phone, which was opened up to Twitter.
“Nothing, just mindless scrolling. I’ve been looking through fanart for a while,” Dream laughed, but George noticed the way his eyes caught George’s.
George wanted to tell him that he didn’t care if he was looking through fanart of them. He wanted to tell Dream how he looked at the fanart too, from a hallway away, every night. George wanted to tell him everything he had built up inside after four years of being in love.
But he didn’t, instead he just scoffed and pushed Dream’s arm away.
He always did that. He didn’t mean to, but he did. Sometimes he wondered how Dream had put up with it for so long. Didn't he ever get tired of George’s endless state of dismissal?
“What’s that?” George asked, peeking over Dream’s shoulder at a clip on his timeline. Dream laughed and unmuted the clip so they could listen to it. It was an old clip from one of the “Am I In Love With My Best Friend?” quizzes. George could tell it was the one from last year and not the year before. The first quiz was so different from the one they took last year.
“It’s the anniversary of the quiz,” Dream said quietly as they watched the clip again. “The fans are begging for me to take it again.”
“Oh,” George murmured, so many memories from the years of prior quizzes lurking in his mind. “Are you… going to?”
Dream stopped laughing under his breath and turned himself into George. He watched him carefully, his eyes flitting back and forth as he searched for something in George’s face.
“Do you want me to? I don’t have to do anything.”
“I mean, I don’t care. It’s your quiz,” George said as he looked away from Dream’s eyes.
Dream watched George for a few more seconds- George could feel it burning into the side of his face- before he turned away again and paused the clip. It was from the end of the quiz when Dream had promised to stop being infatuated with George. To which George quickly replied “No.”
Or at least that’s what the fans seemed to be debating about in the comments. George couldn’t remember if he had said no or not, but he figured it was somewhere in between what the fans were saying. It was a “no” that had meant to be an unbothered grunt. Something he hadn’t meant to say.
The old Discord podcasts had always made him feel more comfortable than he could help. It was hard to shake the idea that it wasn’t just him and Dream talking, and George would end up slipping or being too honest. He only remembered there was an audience once it was too late.
“We could take it,” Dream said, partially joking, “I mean, just to see.”
George huffed and sank deeper under the covers, knowing the quiz would only do the same thing it had for the past two years- make him feel like total shit. But he still clung to the hope that something had changed.
In a way, things had changed. Every year the test proved Dream was more and more “in love” with him, but why did that matter if the rest was all the same?
Florida had changed so much, but George was still afraid. Afraid of the conversation they had that felt like ages ago. Afraid of Dream’s touch or George’s own accidental honesty. Florida was so hard. It was hard to lie or pretend his feelings weren’t the same ones Dream had.
“George?” Dream asked over the silence between their phones.
It was so dark in his room. George remembered it was a few months after the first quiz Dream had taken. That blur of time was just restless waiting for the Visa.
“Hmm?” George yawned, already falling asleep. It was the same thing they had done every day, pointless conversations that they would forget the next morning and endless hours of a single phone call. George knew Dream would say his name for no reason other than to hear him respond on the other end.
But tonight was different.
“Do you think it’s weird? Like, all the DNF stuff?” Dream said, his voice heavy with something indistinguishable.
George felt his chest constrict, jolting any drowsiness out of his body. He knew Dream was going somewhere with this- somewhere that would open a cavern of more questions. That's just how Dream was.
“I mean, I don’t think it’s that weird,” George mumbled, trying to sound indifferent while his eyes threatened to spill over. It hurt, to keep a secret from the one person George held closer than anyone else.
“Yeah, I mean, it’s not that weird. Tons of influencers have gotten together in the middle of their careers.”
“I guess,” George whispered. He knew better than to feed himself fake hope.
“I’m saying, like, I see where they’re coming from.”
“Yeah.”
The silence was deafening. He wondered how it was possible that so much could change in the span of so little time. Why couldn’t every night be like the last? Why did Dream always have to speak his mind and make things hard?
“Would you ever.. date a guy?” Dream asked. George hated the forwardness of it. He hated how the question hadn’t come from nowhere.
George felt a buzz in the back of his mind. A warning was going off, telling him to lie. Screaming at him over and over to stay silent. He was so familiar with those sirens that it was almost relieving when that sense of panic set in.
But something, maybe the darkness or maybe his tiredness, compelled him to answer, “Yes.”
It was the first time he admitted it to Dream but he didn’t act surprised or say a single word of protest. He hummed and comforted George and acted like this bold confession was something he had always known. In a way, George supposed, it was.
And when George parroted the question back, he was surprised when the same word was repeated back to him.
“You would?” George asked, his voice clawing at his throat, begging to scream. Dream just sighed, oblivious to the fire burning in George.
“I mean, yeah. It’s not really a secret that I think some guys are attractive. I mean, I’ve said it about you at least a hundred times.”
“Well, that’s.. different. That’s us.”
“Us” was such a heavy word. One of the heaviest he had ever said, George thought.
“What do you mean?” Dream asked, both of them knowing the answer.
Us, George wanted to yell, Dream and George. George and Dream. Sleep calls and stupid jokes and all the unsaid things. The stuff we ignore.
But he didn’t say that. Instead, he said, “Stop, Dream.”
“What?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I’m curious. What is “us.” What are we, George?”
George couldn’t take this. He hated the pain in Dream’s voice, he hated his sincerity and his perfectly aimed questions. He hated the reality of it.
George didn’t know how to lie when Dream did this. He was like an animal, caught at the wrong moment and cornered by a pack of wolves. He couldn’t run, couldn’t cause a distraction, or divert the attention. He was stuck with a knife against his throat, not sure if the attacker would drive it into his skin or kiss him senseless.
Sometimes it felt like both.
“I don’t know, Dream. What do you want?”
“I’m asking what we are.”
“And I’m asking what you want.”
Dream scoffed and George could hear him shuffling in his sheets from the other side of the phone.
“I don’t know,” Dream whispered.
He never does, George thought to himself, So many years of waiting and we always end up right back here again.
“Well, let me know when you do,” George snapped. He wanted to hang up and cry into his sheets but for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He needed Dream’s voice on the other end like a desperate reassurance that he wasn’t alone in his shitty London flat.
“George,” Dream pleaded, the single word already too much.
“I can’t, Dream. Let’s just go to sleep.”
“But-”
“Please.”
After that, not another word was spoken, but they still kept the call going all night. George’s anger would subside by the morning because deep down he knew it wasn’t anger at all. It was yearning.
And as much as he wanted to pretend it wasn’t there, he knew that he would keep waiting for Dream until he finally knew what he wanted. Even if that waiting took forever.
“Fine, let’s take your dumb quiz,” George huffed and watched Dream’s face break out into a shit-eating grin.
“I was going to take it whether you said yes or not.”
“Just pull it up before I change my mind,” George said with a roll of his eyes. But as annoyed as he tried to seem, he couldn’t help but smile when Dream did a little dance from under the sheets.
Dream found the quiz online and turned the screen to George to show him. George just smiled and shook his head at how excited Dream was for their dumb tradition. George realized, maybe he would like these quizzes, as long as they did them without an audience.
“Alright, first question- do you ever catch yourself staring at your best friend?” Dream read from the quiz. George scoffed and Dream looked up from his phone. “What?”
“The answer would be yes, obviously.”
“What ? I don’t think I stare at you that much.”
“Uh, then you’d be wrong,” George laughed. “I literally catch you all the time.”
Dream rolled his eyes but George watched him select the “all the time” answer reluctantly. George started to feel sly and cuddled into the covers. George could tell he was much more compliant when it was just the two of them- he didn’t seem to fight with his answers like he normally would have.
“Okay, next question,” Dream laughed. “Are they the first person you call when something happens?”
George waited in silence for his answer, curling up closer next to him because it was easier to be touchy when Dream was focused on the questions. Or at least George was able to convince himself it was easier.
“The answers are always, sometimes, and nope. Technically, it’s none of those. But-”
“Dream.”
“Hmm?”
“What do you think the answer is? No technicalities.”
“I don’t know. What do you think?” Dream asked, looking back warily at George.
“Well, who did you call that one time you got swarmed with fans?” George asked, trying to keep his tone light but he couldn’t help but remember how endeared he had been. Dream had nearly had a panic attack at Twitchcon and the first thing he did was make a break for the bathroom and call George to help calm him down. “Or the first time you got drunk where you were wandering aimlessly and falling on your ass? Or every day after you face revealed? Do you remember those FaceTimes?”
“Yeah,” Dream scoffed, “You would just yell at me every time I left the frame because you wanted to watch me talk.”
“Can you blame me?”
Dream looked back at George, watching him from where he hovered above him. He wasn’t subtle about the fact that he was letting his eyes linger. Silently he turned back to his phone and pressed the “always” answer.
“Alright, do you try to make him or her happy?” Dream recited the next question.
George peeked over his shoulder at the options, laughing at “I could care less.” It was almost comical to George, to imagine Dream “caring less” about George’s happiness. He practically fussed over him like a mother, always perfectly attuned to George at all times. George tried his best to reciprocate those acts of service, helping Dream when he got sick and taking care of Patches when Dream was too tired.
He would never admit it, but one of his favorite things about Dream was the magnetic push and pull they shared. That balance between them was unspoken, but each of them showed their love in their own ways.
“These options are weird. I mean, I don’t think it’s my first thought when I wake up,” Dream scoffed. George remembered him expressing a similar sentiment last year, but he had always been too nervous to speak out.
“Oh, so I guess making me breakfast in bed was just a random midday thought you had?” George laughed, “Or the time you woke up early to finish editing my video?”
“To be fair, you had fallen asleep at your desk. I just.. felt bad.”
“Sure, Dream,” George said as he cheekily leaned over and tapped the answer for him. Dream just rolled his eyes and softly shoved George out of reach.
Soon they found an easy rhythm, Dream denying every answer while George shamelessly proved him wrong. Question after question that they could finally answer without doubt now that they lived under the same roof.
It was quiet in Dream’s room without the noise of Sapnap’s music or trees rattling at his window. And George couldn’t help but notice that he liked it better that way- just him, Dream, and the silence. It reminded him of so many years of private phone calls. George almost felt the lull of sleep start to catch up to him until Dream read the next question out loud.
“Do you ever think about what it would be like to kiss your best friend?” Dream whispered. If George hadn’t heard this quiz a year ago- and all the fan reactions that followed- he wouldn't have been able to understand what Dream had said. But he understood it perfectly.
The room suddenly became silent. Not the silence from before that George had cherished, but the kind that was so stagnant that you could hear a heart thumping. Or two.
This time, George didn’t try to catch Dream’s reaction. He didn’t even take a single breath. He didn’t crack a joke or blush or pander endlessly about what answer Dream should choose. How could he possibly do anything?
As much fun as it was to joke around with Dream, there was always the painful truth underneath it all- George was in love with him.
“Well?” George said, barely aware of what words were passing his lips, “What’s your answer?”
Dream managed something between a sigh and a laugh, but George couldn’t make himself join in this time. Suddenly, nothing was funny to him. Suddenly, It was two years ago and he and Dream were talking about “the whether” on a Discord call. Suddenly, he didn't want to be laying in bed next to the only person he’d ever really loved.
“George ,” Dream said. George couldn’t help but get annoyed by his response. George- his favorite word. Whenever he didn't know what to say, he always used that name instead. Like somehow it could stand as a placeholder for the words they both needed to hear.
“Don’t,” George said sternly, “Don’t do your whole thing. Just tell me what your answer is.”
Dream shifted, pulling his arm closer in towards himself. Every second that Dream didn’t answer was filled with a buzzing tension that slowly chipped away at George. Another year of this conversation might be the final strike to his fragile exterior- the fatal blow. He had more than enough time to prepare for it, so he hoped it wouldn’t hit too hard when Dream denied whatever had been happening between them.
“George?” he asked. George didn’t want to respond. He could see the trap laid out for him and he knew any word would be a deadly misstep.
“Dream?” he asked instead.
“The answer is yes. Of course it’s yes- you know it is. I’ve thought about it, god, I’ve thought about it. I think about it constantly,” Dream stuttered out, all at once.
That answer caught George more off guard than if Dream would’ve yelled at him and kicked him out of his room. George felt his chest constrict with something foreign as Dream kept his gaze locked on George’s eyes. George had to look down at his palms resting in his lap.
“Dream,” George rasped out shakily, “Don’t- don’t mess with me.”
“I’m not-”
“Don’t.”
“George,” Dream said as he grabbed George’s chin and tilted his head up, “I’m not messing with you. I wouldn’t joke about this.”
George huffed out a laugh, dripping with suffering sarcasm. He watched as Dream’s eyes suffered from the blow and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. But George couldn’t help it- the way his heart throbbed and yelled at him to run away from Dream before he got hurt again.
“You always joke about it, Dream. That’s all we have ever been, just a joke,” George said. He tried to sound angry but it ended up coming out wobbly and meek. He couldn’t really be mad at Dream.
“Oh, George. Come here,” Dream whispered and pulled George close against him. George loosened into the embrace before he finally caved and pulled Dream in as tight as he could, letting his fingers dig into the fabric of his shirt.
“I’m sorry,” George mumbled into his spot on Dream’s shoulder. The words felt wrong in his mouth, but as soon as he said them he could feel the flood of relief that came with it.
“No, stop. Don’t be sorry. I didn’t realize how bad it’s gotten. We needed to talk about this for so long and I always beat around the bush. I should be sorry, not you.”
“No, this isn’t your fault. You were so unsure about so many things, it wasn’t right to rush anything. And I hardly ever talk about anything that I feel in the first place.”
“That’s different. That’s different, George.”
“I just want you to know that it isn’t only your fault. We both have been big idiots about this whole thing.”
“We have, haven’t we?” Dream laughed, but George could hear how choked up it was. When he looked at Dream’s shirt, he was surprised to see a wet spot from his own tears.
“Yeah,” George laughed and pulled Dream closer. They stayed like that until their breath eventually fell into place with each other. Dream would rub circles into George’s back and George let his fingers graze the end of Dream’s curls. Every now and then one of them would whisper something- an apology or a confession- just to hear the sound of the other’s voice.
“George,” Dream said and slowly pulled back from their embrace, “Remember when I told you that I didn’t know what I wanted?”
George contemplated saying no. Why would he remember what happened so long ago? Why would he ever retain such a specific moment out of thousands of calls? Surely he would’ve forgotten about it ages ago?
But he didn’t. He thought about that memory with every joke Dream made or day they spent alone together. He thought about it when Patches would curl up next to him before he fell asleep or every time Dream looked at him with those damn bedroom eyes.
There were more moments that he thought about it than not. But he wouldn’t tell Dream that, instead he simply said, “Yes, I remember.”
Dream searched his eyes and George knew that Dream could see the truth behind them. But he kept the rest silent and let Dream read it on his own- a silent understanding they shared.
“Well, I know now,” Dream whispered, “I know what I want, George.”
“Then take it.”
Dream’s eyes drifted to George’s lips and George watched as he carefully inched closer. He was watching every move George made, waiting for a signal of protest. When he finally looked back up, George nodded.
Within seconds, they were connected. Dream’s hands found George’s waist and George managed to shift into Dream’s lap. Gradually, one peck turned into two, and then two turned into a deep movement that shook between them. Dream kept his hands attuned to George, paying attention to every noise or movement George made. He couldn’t help but fall into Dream’s touch and kiss him just a little harder because of it.
When Dream lowered his head to George’s neck, George let out a sound just from the feeling of Dream’s distant breath. Dream smiled as he let his lips drift carefully across the soft skin, making George lean up into the feeling.
“Dream,” George sighed, already fed up with his teasing.
“Hmm?” Dream mumbled into him, still barely letting his lips connect with George’s skin.
“Kiss me,” George hissed and pulled him closer. When he finally did, Dream was slow and surprisingly chaste with the way he kissed him, but George didn’t mind. The mere feeling of Dream kissing him made him bubble up with insatiable bliss. He felt so loved when he was with him.
When they kissed until their lips were sore and they were gasping for breath, they fell back on the bed and curled into one another. It felt like they could finally close the invisible gap that had been resting between them. Dream loved to cradle George and kiss him over and over. George would be halfway through a sentence and Dream would kiss his forehead, then lay back down like nothing had happened.
It was what George had been wanting every day for years and now it was his. It was perfect.
When they finally agreed to go to sleep, Dream opened his phone one last time to check his texts. And when George looked up from where he rested on Dream’s lap, he could see him answering the infamous question.
Even though Dream didn’t notice George looking, he couldn’t help but smile when Dream admitted that he did, in fact, think about kissing his best friend.