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1.
Dream wasn’t even fully sure what they were talking about. It was that point in the night where they were all soft giggles and sleepy words mumbled into darkness.
He called around 11 because their sleep schedules were synced again, and he knew George would still be awake, and by now it had been an hour and the night was winding down. They’d been lying in their respective beds just talking about anything and everything. Dream knew they should both be sleeping right now– George especially, seeing as it was already 5 in the morning for him. But going to sleep meant less time talking to each other, less time just being in each others’ presence. Sure, Dream usually stayed up a few minutes later than George so he could hear his soft breathing and sleepy noises through his phone, but it still wasn’t the same as being awake together.
George’s long yawn alerted Dream that maybe it might’ve been time to finally make that sacrifice though.
“You should sleep,” Dream gently suggested. He heard shuffling on the other end and another yawn.
“No,” George whined, “I’m not even tired.”
“You’re an idiot,” Dream giggled, the words holding practically no weight as his voice went all soft in what their fans had affectionately called his Patches voice.
“Your mum’s an idiot,” George retorted, laughing at himself as if he just said the joke of the century. Frankly, Dream thought any joke George told was the joke of the century.
“Well if you don’t wanna sleep, what do you wanna do instead?” Dream asked, suppressing a yawn of his own.
“I dunno,” George mumbled, “What songs have you been listening to? You haven’t sent any in a while.”
It was a fun little habit they’d gotten into. Dream sends whatever song he’s been looping and he and George will listen to it together. There was one night where he had sent Heatwaves as a joke and they both giggled while singing along together.
Lately, Dream has been trying not to spill his feelings through the songs he sends. Ever since he had his big oh moment about his feelings for George, he’d been reluctant to send any of his new music fixations to the boy in question. It was mostly sappy love songs– a concerning amount of Taylor Swift and various other artists sprinkled into the mix.
If Dream continued to send his songs at the pace he had been, it would’ve been a dead giveaway at how he was feeling. He could flirt with George on stream or in a call with the rest of their friends, but when it was just the two of them… there were some things Dream wasn’t willing to let out of the confines of his heart.
There wasn’t a lot of angst when it came to realizing his romantic love for the boy across the ocean. He thought his feelings were 100% platonic at first, that the jokes were just jokes, and then upon further introspection in the middle of the night Dream quickly came to the realization that the jokes were definitely more than just jokes. At least on his end.
He didn’t want to risk what he had with George by revealing his feelings, especially not now that they had started talking about meeting up and potentially living together. If he confessed and it all went to shit, he would never forgive himself for being the reason he lost his favorite person in the world. He wanted George in any way he could have him, and if that meant he needed to bottle up his less-than-platonic feelings, that’s what he would do.
But it was so hard sometimes when George was being cute. Especially when he was cute and sleepy, a diabolical combination that regularly left Dream a pile of mush in his bed, biting his lip to try and keep himself from cooing over the Brit or blurting out pet names and glowing adorations.
“Dream,” George whined, drawing out his name. Dream bit his lip, sweet golden words just on the tip of his tongue. If George were there in person, he doesn’t know how he’d be able to resist pulling him close to his chest and placing a kiss on his forehead.
Dream grabbed his phone from the pillow next to his head and opened up Spotify, scrolling through his liked songs and new playlists trying to find something he could send to George that wouldn’t completely give himself away.
“Hold on, I'm trying to find one,” Dream smiled, “Be patient, idiot.”
“We’ve already established that your mum’s the idiot, idiot.”
Dream shook his head fondly, not bothering to give into George’s teasing and bicker with him. He settled on some generic, low-risk rap song. It wasn’t in his current rotation– rather something he had fixated on a few weeks prior– but it was the safest option. He waited in silence for the link to send, holding his breath until George gave his judgment.
“This is… alright,” George said after a couple of minutes, “Not the best one you’ve ever sent though, you’re kinda falling off.”
Dream scoffed, rolling his eyes even though George couldn’t see him (although he’s aware they know each other well enough that George could probably still tell). “You’re so dumb, how am I falling off? That’s just what I’m listening to. What did you want me to send instead?”
“I dunno… something better,” he replied, but Dream could hear a hint of hesitation in his sleep-soft voice.
Dream felt his heart start to beat a bit faster, scared of being found out somehow. “Well- I mean. Why don’t you send me a song instead?”
George huffed, “That’s not how it works though. You’re supposed to send me your songs, idiot. So just send a different one– a better one.”
And, because Dream knew he was utterly weak for George, he ended up scrolling through his actual recently played songs and picked the most innocent contender.
“Taylor Swift,” George giggled when the text was sent, “Of course.”
“Yeah well… she has good songs,” Dream gently argued.
“I didn’t say she was bad, just that it makes sense,” George said, “No need to get all defensive, I like her too.”
“Okay, well are you gonna listen to the song?” Dream asked, starting to regret sending it. "Invisible string" had been in his “on repeat” playlist, and the lyrics had stuck with him (something that even the fans had definitely taken notice of if the replies to the account tracking his Spotify were anything to go by). It wasn’t a completely obvious one, and he already had a platonic explanation in mind if George asked.
There was a brief couple minutes of silence and Dream held his breath, anxiously looking around his dark room while waiting for George to finish listening. When enough time had passed and the silence continued, he looked back at his phone to make sure George hadn’t muted himself.
“George?” he whispered in case he had somehow fallen asleep. He heard a muffled cough and what he thought might’ve been a sniffle.
George finally spoke up, “Um… I liked that song.” Dream thought something was off about his voice.
“Is that how you see us?” George continued. Dream froze, wondering how he should answer. There was a certain twinge to George’s voice that made Dream think they might be on the same page, but he didn’t want to risk it.
“Um… Y-yeah,” Dream started, “I mean. You and Sapnap are like my platonic soulmates so… I guess I kinda think of it as like- the invisible string tied us all together.”
“Oh…” George responded. That twinge was back but it sounded sadder– more disappointed.
Dream opened his mouth to ask if he was alright but George beat him to it, “I’m uh- I’m actually kinda tired now. I think I’m gonna go to sleep.”
Dream nodded before remembering George couldn’t see him, “Okay! Do you- do you want to stay on call?”
He heard some shuffling through his phone, probably George getting settled under his comforter, and then a quiet answer. “Yes please.”
So Dream got himself comfortable too, pulling his blankets up under his chin and laying his phone on the pillow to the right of his own– its permanent resting place ever since George told him he sleeps on the right side of the bed. He wasn’t sure what to make of that confession. For now, he allowed himself to drift off to the sound of George’s soft breathing on the other side of the ocean.
2.
“Don’t goooo,” Dream pleaded.
“I have to Dream, you’ll survive a few hours without me,” George teased.
He was waiting for Wilbur to show up at his flat so they could all be part of Tommy's next vlog. Dream wasn’t entirely sure what the premise of this one was, all he knew was that it meant multiple hours spent not hanging out with George. It wasn’t that he was clingy, definitely not. He just… wanted to spend as much time with George as he could.
Knowing how hard it’d been recently– with little news regarding George’s visa keeping spirits lower than usual– Dream had been trying to soak up as much “George time” as possible. They spent practically all of their spare time in endless calls with each other (their current record being almost 50 hours, which Dream was honestly quite proud of).
“What if I don’t though?” Dream continued, trying his damndest to convince George to just drop all his plans to stay on call with him. He knew it was selfish– borderline possessive– but he couldn’t quite feel guilty when his heart just wanted George with him. And if it couldn’t be in real life, he’d take what he could get.
He heard George scoff on the other end of the line, “You’re an idiot. What’s so important you need me to stay so badly anyway?”
Dream hummed, “I dunno. We could talk about meetup stuff. Like what you wanna do when you get here? There’s a lot we still need to hash out, you know.”
“Hash out. Hashbrown.” Dream smiled at his word association. “We’ve already talked about all that,” George sounded far away from the mic and Dream felt a pang in his heart at the thought of even more distance between them, “Obviously I want the first days to be just us, and then I wanna meet your family and stuff.”
“You really wanna meet my family?” Dream asked like he always did when the topic was brought up.
“I mean yeah,” George said, like it was obvious, “I’ve been banging your mum for a while it would only be polite.”
“You’re such an idiot, oh my God,” Dream laughed, “I knew you were gonna stay something stupid.”
“Well if I’m so stupid then maybe I should just hang up,” George said, in that voice he loved to use when he was trying to bait a reaction out of Dream. Unfortunately, Dream was well past pretending he wasn’t completely whipped for the other boy.
“No, no, no, don’t leave. I still think you should just stay here today,” Dream tried again.
“Dream,” George sighed like he knew there was a hint of seriousness in Dream’s plea, “Wilbur’s gonna be here in like… 20 minutes or something, I’m gonna have to leave eventually.”
“But what if you didn’t-”
“Why are you in your clingy arc?” George giggled, but there was still some sadness in what should be a light and airy jingle. Dream loved hearing George laugh– loved being the one to make him happy, to make him laugh and giggle.
“What- I’m not clingy,” Dream argued, rolling his eyes even if George couldn’t see it. He even made a dumb face for good measure. “I just… think you should hang out with me today instead of Wilbur and Tommy.”
“I hang out with you every day, idiot,” George huffed. Frustration was slowly seeping into his tone but Dream wouldn’t budge.
“Well… not every day clearly if you’re-”
“Why am I not allowed to hang out with other people?” George interrupted, raising his voice slightly. It wasn’t often he and Dream got into genuine arguments– mostly just petty squabbles that were over by the end of the hour– but this seemed… a bit more serious. Dream knew he couldn’t joke his way out of this now.
“I… I never said you couldn’t I just-”
“You literally are saying that though,” George huffed and Dream felt his heart rate pick up. “Wilbur and Tommy are my friends too and I’m finally able to leave my house to see them and you’re just being difficult for no reason.”
Dream never really dealt well with George being angry at him. He could deal with a sad George or George in his silly moods or even George being angry at someone else, but when the anger was suddenly directed at him…
“I’m not trying to be difficult, I just want to spend time with you too. These past few weeks haven’t just been hard on you, you know.” Dream pulled anxiously at the curls on his head, starting to feel a little angry himself. He could feel his defensive walls coming up, the kind that only ever appeared when he went on Twitter replying sprees or dumb fights with people who didn’t like him.
He could feel George start to calm slightly at those words. “I know that Dream,” he said gently, “I’m not trying to ditch you or anything, I’ve just been feeling kind of stir-crazy I guess.”
“You could always go for walks and stay on call with me-”
“Dream-”
The trouble with Dream’s defensive walls is that they tended to cloud his perception of how he really felt, so rather than being level-headed and rational, his mind leaped to worst-case scenarios and thoughts of George hating him or George looking for a reason to leave or George getting tired of him.
“Am I not enough for you?”
Dream knew it was the worst thing he could’ve said as soon as the words left his mouth. “Oh how is that fucking fair Dream? You at least have Sapnap with you, and who do I have? I live here alone.”
“You have me.”
“No I don’t! I don’t have all of you.”
“What do you mean George?” Dream heard a faint knock through his phone and then George’s dejected voice, “Nevermind. Whatever. Wilbur’s here, I have to go.” The line went dead before Dream could get another word in.
Dream had always been told he loved too much. Toward the end of his last relationship, he remembered his now ex-girlfriend telling him that she wished he would just… calm down a bit. And another ex-girlfriend had once expressed that she wasn’t sure how to properly reciprocate his love in a way that felt equal, which ended up being part of the downfall of their relationship. Dream was determined as hell to not mess up with George. Even if they weren’t dating necessarily, he knew he needed to reel in his possessiveness and overwhelming amounts of love– as much as he struggled to do that over the years.
Dream also knew that it wasn’t completely fair of him to expect George to spend all his time with him. George had seen Dream at his absolute worst so many times– and vice versa. Realistically Dream knew they would be fine, this wasn’t the worst fight they’d ever had. He couldn’t and wouldn’t let himself spiral into a self-pity shit storm and he sure as hell wouldn’t let George go on thinking he wasn’t sorry. He could be stubborn, but not when it came to making sure George was happy when all was said and done.
Dream didn’t want George to go the rest of the day lingering on their fight so he sent a quick text apologizing. He would call properly once George was back home, but it would suffice for now. They were gonna be fine.
Dream was proven right when George called later that day and let Dream apologize, and he apologized too even though Dream insisted he didn’t need to.
3.
“George I’m seriously gonna kill myself,” Dream whined. George just laughed in response and the way his eyes brightened and his tongue poked out between his teeth was almost enough to make Dream feel better. Almost.
“It looks so fucking bad!" Dream complained, “I look like a fucking Republican, no one can see me like this.”
“Well no one except me apparently,” George said smugly– possessively. “Boyfriend privileges.”
Dream blushed at the name. They weren’t technically dating yet but they might as well have been. Dream neglected to call it a “situationship” because George said he hated that term, and he also neglected to call them “e-daters” because George hated that term even more (“We are not gonna be fucking e-daters. Dream, that’s so cringe I literally refuse.”).
When George called to tell Dream that he got his visa and subsequently saw his face for the first time– once all the excitement had died down a bit– they talked about… whether again. Dream had been aware of George’s feelings, just as George had been aware of his, for a few months before that point so they knew something was there but they hadn’t fully discussed how it would work online or in real life eventually– mostly because of George’s insistence that they could not be e-daters.
It was honestly just a huge cluster-fuck in Dream’s mind because George could be… confusing. Dream knew he wanted George and he knew George wanted him back, that much he was clear on. Beyond that, sometimes George would still act the same way he always did around Dream before they had their feelings discussion– just friends– but then other times like today he would call Dream “boyfriend” or “baby” and it messed with Dream’s head a bit. He wasn’t sure how far he could take things, and he especially didn’t want to be too much, so he tried to just let George take the lead and decide what they were and how much they could give each other.
But then that meant Dream was left floundering for ways to respond to George outright calling him his boyfriend.
“Boyfriend privileges, sure,” he said nervously. He had to consciously stop himself from rubbing at his beard, a nervous habit that could now be picked up on camera. “This was such a bad decision. Why did you let me do this?” He resumed his complaining.
“It’s not… that bad,” George tried to reassure him, but even he could tell it was a weak effort. Dream groaned and flopped backward onto his bed, phone held carefully above his face to give George the best view of his breakdown. “It’ll grow back quick. Definitely by the time I get there. Plus you said you needed the haircut.”
“I mean. I guess, but I didn’t think it would look like shit.”
“I think it looks cute…”
“It’s a mullet.”
“Um.”
Dream, embarrassingly, felt tears well up in his eyes. He already cried in the car when he called his mom immediately following the haircut, he really didn’t want to cry in front of George. Not that it would be the first time, but crying over a haircut felt a bit too melodramatic even for him.
But nothing seemed to slip past George. “Are you about to cry?" There was a hint of a giggle in his words, but also an overall tone of concern.
“Don’t cry, baby,” George teased, clicking his tongue and pouting his lips.
“I just don’t want to look like trash when we finally meet,” Dream admitted in a small voice, pointing his phone away from his face to save him from further embarrassment.
“I’m sure there’s gonna be lots of days you’ll look like trash once we meet, Dream. I don’t mind if you have a bad haircut,” George tried to reassure, but Dream groaned and turned to dig his face into his pillow.
When he came back up for air and faced his phone again, he saw George already staring fondly back at him.
Dream sighed, still holding back frustrated tears, “It’s just- This is gonna be a day we remember for the rest of our lives… Just wanted everything to be perfect for you.”
George pursed his lips and his eyes softened. “You’re actually the dumbest person ever. I don’t care what your stupid hair looks like.” Dream knew what he really meant was I don’t care what you look like, I just want you. Dream silently agreed that it didn’t really matter what his hair looked like, he knew George would never outright call him ugly or even think he was ugly. But there was still the part of him that just wanted to look good for his… boyfriend? He was still unclear on their label.
“Okay… but what about Twitchcon? I don’t want to meet fans and take pictures looking like this,” Dream frowned, tugging at the strands falling over his forehead. George hummed, visibly thinking.
He eventually answered, “You could try wearing beanies? Or you can get another trim when we land in LA and they can try to fix it for you? Or you can just leave it to grow back on its own because it looks fine, Dream.” George leveled a pointed stare at the camera, pursing his lips and blinking.
And Dream suddenly felt stupid because those were all such obvious solutions. George is so smart.
“I guess you’re right…” Dream relented. George’s smug smile on the other end should’ve annoyed Dream and made him want to argue against him, but it only endeared him.
“I’m always right. And you’re always an idiot.”
+1
“You’re so stupid,” George said with no real malice behind his words. The frustration was there though, which was confusing to Dream because they were in the middle of making out.
George was sat on Dream’s lap in their living room. Sapnap was out for the day, so the two boyfriends– boyfriends!– had some time to themselves, which meant they obviously spent all their free time languishing in each other’s presence… and sticking their tongues down each other’s throats.
George was ruthless, Dream soon found out. Any chance they had behind closed doors or behind Sapnap’s back, George would practically pounce on Dream and have him up against a wall.
It took an entire month after their meetup for George to snap and kiss Dream breathless for the first time. Apparently, Dream took too long to make the first move, and George was the most impatient man on Earth. Not that Dream was about to start complaining.
“You’re so stupid,” George repeated, “How are you so stupid?”
Dream was still lost. “How am I stupid?” he asked, tilting his head. That seemed to frustrate George even more because he just groaned and buried his face in Dream’s neck, leaving faint kisses against the skin there.
“That,” George said when he came back up as if that explained anything in Dream’s confused mind. “You’re cute and I love you and you’re stupid.”
Dream giggled, finally getting it, “Sorry, baby.”
“Don’t apologi- ugh,” George groaned again, lightly whacking Dream’s shoulder with a sweater-covered hand. He whispered another quiet “stupid”. Dream just wrapped his arms around a lithe waist and squeezed, earning a small squeak from the brunette. George leaned in and crashed his lips against Dream’s– always an effective end to their banter.
“I love that you’re mine,” George said when he pulled away from Dream’s lips, saliva making his pink lips look shiny. He brought a small hand up to fiddle with the gold chain hanging from Dream’s neck– the chain that came as a matching set to the one hanging from George’s. Dream knew he would remember the day he gave his chain to George for the rest of his life. Remembering the way his eyes glistened with unshed tears because they both knew that Dream giving him his chain was practically the same as giving him a ring. Remembering how it felt when his fingers gently brushed against George’s neck as he hooked the clasp from behind him.
They’d only been together for a few months when George started wearing Dream’s chain, but it was one of the only times Dream allowed himself to indulge in his too much.
And hearing George call Dream his made Dream’s heart stutter pathetically in his chest.
“I um– yeah,” Dream settled on. He was still being so careful to not be too much, to not drive George away with the intense love he felt for him. Sometimes it felt like it was capable of eating him alive. He could never forgive himself if it ate George alive instead.
“You what?” George pushed. He shifted on his lap, wrapping the chain around his index finger and pulling ever so slightly.
Dream gasped, “Nothing– I love you.”
“I love you too,” George cooed, but he didn’t stop pushing, “You what?"
When Dream swallowed nervously and still didn’t answer George continued, “You know I can tell when you hold back from me. You don’t have to do that, Dream.”
“I don’t–”
“You do. I’m not dumb. Just say what you want to say, you’re not gonna scare me away or whatever it is you’re worried about. I love you, and that means all of you. I know how much you love, and I knew what I was signing up for when we talked about whether we were gonna do this.”
Dream took a breath. George nodded, tugging on the chain again.
“I just… I think I was made for you,” he whispered. George’s teeth sunk into plush lips when he leaned down again and captured Dream’s mouth in his. It was barely a kiss because of how much George was smiling into it, but he made up for it with vigor. He pulled on the chain again and rose up to his knees so he was hovering slightly over Dream. Dream had to tilt his head to keep up and the living room lights glowing behind George’s head made him look like an angel.
Dream squeezed George’s waist again and shut his eyes once he was used to the new position.
George moved the hand that was on the chain around to the back of Dream’s head and played with the curly strands sitting at his nape.
“Baby,” George said. Like it was the only word he knew to describe Dream.
“That song I sent you. I dunno how long ago– the Taylor Swift one.” George nodded. “It reminded me of you, of us. Made up all the other stuff because I didn’t wanna… I just– it’s always been you. For me. It’s only ever gonna be you.”
“You’re it for me too, Dream.”
Before Dream could say anything or kiss him, George continued, “Seriously. I don’t– I don’t want you to think that you’re the only one feeling things. I’ve been impossibly in love with you for like… 4 years. I’m probably just as crazy as you think you are. Don’t hold back from me.”
When their lips met again Dream didn’t hold back. He slipped a hand under George’s shirt and fanned his fingers out against the soft skin of his waist and lower back. His other hand gripped a smaller thigh with a force that screamed you’re mine. He pulled George against him and licked between his lips, sighing contentedly into his mouth.
George grabbed the chain again and twirled it around his fingers, and Dream was trying not to giggle at how the metal lightly brushing against his skin tickled him.
“I love that you wear my chain,” Dream whispered when they separated– not far, never far. “I love when you wear my hoodies and t-shirts, and I love when you turn down our other friends so you can hang out with me. I love that even though there are people who’ve loved you before me, I know I’m gonna be the last one. I love how you laugh so sweetly when the cameras are off and it’s just us– love it even more when I’m the one who makes you laugh like that.”
George’s face was beet red but his smile was the opposite of his flustered complexion.
And it was like Dream’s entire life had led up to that moment. Seeing the way George tried to keep his smile down, but ultimately failed and buried his head back in Dream’s neck. Seeing the way George’s chain (Dream’s chain) glistened when it caught the light. Seeing Patches slink up to the couch and paw apprehensively at George’s foot that hung off the side.
His entire life had led up to this. His favorite person– his boyfriend, his forever– in his arms, home.