Chapter Text
Far was the sound of his voice, yet closer, stripped from the static that used to haunt their late-night discord calls.
Far were the rustles he made as he turned this foreign space into something of a home, yet closer, the huffs and grunts that were once silenced across the Atlantic Ocean.
Further yet was the sound of his footsteps that scaled the kitchen floor, yet closer, just within the crossing distance of a few meters, ones that no longer break the laws of the universe to cross. His worried brown eyes passed over his American friend as he made his way across the hall, at times hidden as he anxiously skipped from room to room. Though even in those moments where he couldn’t be seen, his presence was always there, felt in a distracting way.
Dream’s attention, no matter how ‘undivided’, was always split between the task he had at hand and George’s movements. Ever since his friend had started living here, it appeared impossible not to be somewhat aware of what he’s doing, even as Dream was met with the crushing realisation that their whole planned trip to California for George’s birthday was now in jeopardy.
“Did you call the Uber driver again?” George asked for the third time that day. It was only 5am in the morning, but they were both wide awake, their luggage propped up near the door, adorning their usual inconspicuous airport clothings.
By that of course, it meant that George was wearing his corpse hoodie, and Dream was wearing a bucket hat. It appeared as though Dream just liked hats now, his only regret being that he can’t wear a cat beanie anymore without expecting to be spotted by fans and not-fans alike.
“He’s not answering…” Dream drawled as his eyes narrowed on the TV. “…And I’m starting to get why.”
“What do you mean?” George said as he approached the Livingroom, his steps growing louder.
“What’s going on?”
“Shhh.” Dream ignored the offended look his friend met him with, and instead pointed at the TV.
It was everywhere, on every news channel.
“An unprecedented event happening here at the southern coasts—”
Dream kept flicking through the channels, checking the news for any hint of exaggeration.
“—Storm Belos rapidly intensifies into a category 4 hurricane in less than a day—“
He clicked off to the next channel, even though he knew it was pointless.
“—Hurricane Belos set to hit the shores of Florida within thirty-six hours—“
He set the remote aside, panicking. Just as he did so, he received a notification from the Uber driver, claiming that the hurricane warning that was just issued prevented him from driving them to the airport. Dream stared at his phone, his gut sinking.
The timing could not be any worse than this.
“What do you think? I could drive us to the airport myself?” Dream offered, glancing at George with uncertainty. The reason they hadn’t driven by themselves was that Dream’s security detail warned him against taking personal vehicles to overly crowded and public places such as airports, and he always took Bonk’s warning seriously. Being too careful never hurts anybody.
But if it meant that they wouldn’t miss their flight to California, would it be worth the risk? This trip was important, and Sapnap had already flown there a day prior in order to prepare for the surprise birthday celebration with Karl and several others of his friends. They just had to be there, not just for the money and time wasted preparing for it, but because it was George’s birthday, the first one they were going to celebrate together in the flesh.
“I…” George started to say, and paused, glaring at his phone. “I don’t think that’s necessary. I think our flight’s been canceled…?”
“What?!”
And sure enough, the first thing flashing on his screen as he opened the airways application was a general notice saying in a big bold red font: All flights have been canceled due to the unexpected acceleration of Hurricane Belos. Refunds and rescheduled flights will be announced shortly.
All rescheduled flights were set in two days' time. They were stuck.
“We’re stuck, aren’t we?” George asked, slumping on the couch against Dream.
“Yeah… Yeah.” Dream repeated, not knowing what else to do than to frantically look around the app for any silver of hope that their plans weren’t ruined. Any chance that George isn’t going to be spending his first birthday in the US on house arrest, in a hurricane. It was made worse by the fact that it’s just them in the house. Sapnap was in California, and Patches was at his mother’s house, having been sent there last night in preparation for the trip.
He anxiously texted his mother, asking if she made it home safely. He also texted Sapnap and several of his other friends, informing them of the situation. He remained glued to his phone, rapidly swiping between apps, conversations, news articles, ticketing schedules, until…
George shifted in his seat.
His undivided attention was again stolen for a brief moment as he found his friend staring up into the ceiling, an unreadable expression on his face. Dream slowly lowered is phone, dragged by the shoulders from his rush to fix things back to a more subdued state, recognising the realities handed to them in George’s eyes.
He leaned back on the couch, mirroring George’s slumped position, leaning to the side until their biceps pressed together.
“You okay, George? This is probably not how you expected your birthday to go.” He asked, sympathy seeping into his words. George chuckled lightly, and sighed.
“I guess I shouldn’t have expected any less from Florida.”
“That’s true.” Dream grinned briefly, before a scowl painted his expression. “Oh, shit. It’s a hurricane warning.”
“So?” George tilted his head in question.
Dream jumped to his feat, grabbing George by the forearm. “So?! We’re not ready for it! We need to buy food, emergency supplies, and… Grab your jacket, we’re going to the grocery store now!”
With that, the pair were swiftly out the door and into the car, finally realising that the windy weather outside was an omen of the coming storm.
The ride to the store was mostly silent, as the two contemplated the sudden change of plans. George glared at the trees, which bent unnaturally at the increasing viciousness of the winds. Even though the sun hasn’t risen yet, the pair found themselves starkly awake, lamenting on lost sleep and the unease of an impending natural disaster. George especially wasn’t used to living in a place that was so meteorologically unstable, the height of weather chaos in London being a sudden ten minute rain shower and subsequent sunshine as if nothing had ever happened. The last thing he expected was for a storm to evolve into (according to the news he read just now) a category 5 hurricane overnight.
This was not a good start to George’s birthday, but Dream was going to make the most of it, and it all began with a little preparation. He had already possessed a vague idea of how he wanted this hurricane-sponsored quarantine to go. All he had to do was make it happen.
He had exactly one goal:
Make George happy on his birthday.
An arduous task, all things considered. But Dream was determined to make it happen.
About half an hour into the highway, Dream pulled over into a complex of shops standing close to a gas station, the closest spot to their somewhat remote green Dream Team house. He had already exhausted his mental capabilities on both planning a respectable last minute two-person birthday party (and the items they needed for when the hurricane inevitably cut the power out) while driving at the same time.
With his mind running a mile a minute, the break was crucial as his vision blurred, focused on his inner turmoil rather than the road itself… perhaps one too many times for it to not kill them eventually.
Not that he’d ever tell that to George.
“This is the place.” He said, unbuckling his seatbelt. “We need to prepare for the storm. I don’t think it’s passing over us directly but, it’s going to be rough and the power will most likely go out. It’s best we don’t step outside until the storm visibly lets up.”
George said nothing, only briefly nodding as Dream parked the car.
“How are they still open?” George asked curiously, eyes set on the wind beating down one of the advertising flags perched next to the automatic glass doors. Dream shrugged in response.
“I need you to see if they sell gas cylinders, coal, and a lighter. Not the small kind, the uh.. The big one.”
“The one that looks like a gun?” George reached towards the door handle, and Dream did the same, ready to exit the vehicle. It occurred to Dream that neither of them knew what the device was called, as often was the case with them. It was an increasing trend where if one of them blanks out on something, the other does too for no apparent reason.
“Yeah. Ours broke I think. And also—”
They both startled as the car doors pushed outwardly against the wind, nearly ripping open had they both not clenched the doors instinctively. George let out a little yelp, nearly thrown face first into the ground in his surprise.
“DREAM!” He shouted over the raging winds. It seemed as though the car had silenced the chaos outside.
“LETS TALK INSIDE!”
“IM COMING!” Dream shouted back.
George scrunched his nose in disgust. Dream didn’t even mean it that way, but now he was grinning from ear to ear, taking in the flush on George’s cheeks as he shook his head in the cute way he always did. They both hurried inside, laughing in hysterics, their hair windblown and matching the craziness that the weather bore.
“Come on! I don’t want to be stranded with you in a grocery store in the middle of nowhere.”
“You’d love being stranded with me. Actually, we’re going to be stranded in our house all alone until the hurricane is gone. That’s like… your dream came true, George!”
“…Oh.” George frowned dramatically, as if he hadn’t thought of it like that until now.
Dream simply shrugged, while the other ran off to the back of the store, clearly in a much better mood than he was before they left the house. The grocery store appeared to have been the perfect distraction.
He knew that George couldn’t care less about his birthday, as that was not where the importance of their trip to California was. It was a chance to meet with friends they hadn’t seen face to face for months, because everyone was in California or LA or basically anywhere that was not Florida. George had come here for Dream, because Dream wanted to live here, not because he actually cared where they slept as long as the three of them, the Dream Team, were all in the same spot.
He must also be bummed by Sapnap leaving early, Dream reminded himself as he walked towards the snacks section. Dream’s heart stung at the thought that Sapnap was not here with them. The party wouldn’t have mattered either as long as the three of them were together, celebrating George’s birthday with him at last.
Dream was glad that some of the discomfort his friend emitted since their flight was canceled was replaced with some level of excitement. Maybe the storm wasn’t going to be too bad. Maybe they could cook themselves dinner and laugh as the lawn was torn apart.
‘Maybe we could grill tonight.’ He thought excitedly, already jogging towards the frozen section.
Within a few minutes, they had already stacked up on food, snacks, a gas cylinder, and even some fresh vegetables to go with the burgers and steaks. George had placed a bag of coal onto the counter dramatically, complaining that they didn’t need all this to sit out the storm. Dream shrugged him off, hands spread in wide gestures as he shared the joys of grilling corn instead of boiling it.
Dream had also collected some cheap decorations and a small chocolate cake, candles that according to the box sang happy birthday, and other miscellaneous items that he knew George had seen on the cashier counter but promptly ignored. Dream appreciated that. Maybe George did care about his birthday, Dream concluded, glancing at a bashful smile playing at George’s lips as Dream inconspicuously attempted to block the moving cashier belt from his sight. If George whispered something about him being an idiot behind his back, Dream pretended not to notice.
George moved forward to place the items in plastic bags, and with the cashier’s help, they secured everything in the trunk without much trouble. The two drove off in fairly high spirits, now that starvation was definitely out the window.
“What now?” George asked, watching as the sun slowly lifted through the horizon, coloring the sky in a captivating swirl of reds and yellow streaks.
“Now… I guess, we try to limit our comings and goings, even if it’s to other parts of the house. The wind’s already strong, so we should at least check if there’s anything loose in the yard. Leaving things that could fly out there might be dangerous.”
Dream could sense George’s eyes on him. For a moment, he glanced back, seeing as the sun softened the usual chocolate warmth of his eyes into yellow honey, highlighting fairly long curls that were haphazardly rattled by the wind against his pale complexion. It was yet again hard to focus on the road, on this one task he had to focus on, because George was right there distracting him. He knew he was always drawn to George, even to the most minute expressions and changes in his movement.
Dream would call this love, not that this word ever felt right in his mind. It was too… generic, in a way that felt more ironic than genuine.
He wished that there was a better word than just ‘love’. Sometimes, that word just didn’t feel like it was enough to explain the affection and care that Dream carried in his heart, the sheer weight of it that proved crippling at times, proved too difficult to breathe through and perform otherwise simple tasks. The kind of love that lasted forever, that did not need to be reciprocated to be fulfilled. His love for George existed for its own sake, undeterred by the fact that his friend did not feel the same way.
Of course, he believed that George did love him… of course he did. But it just wasn’t the same intensity, the same yearning that Dream felt. And that was okay. Dream made peace with it years ago, now content to simply share the rest of his life with his best friend instead of creating unnecessary drama that breaks them apart.
The rest of the ride was silent, but comfortably so. As the morning sun reminded them of hope in the midst of these dark clouds and stormy winds, the pair enjoyed each other’s presence, looking at their predicament in a new light. Dream, at least, saw this as an opportunity to be with George for a little while, alone in his company.
Was it selfish to yearn for that? He wondered. But glancing at George’s peaceful expression as he observed the sky, Dream didn’t care that it was.
By noon, it was clear that the sun wasn’t going to overcome its battle with the the howling sky, as darker clouds rolled in, coloring the world in monotones that festered a general sense of unease in their hearts. The yard was long since checked, garbage bags safely secured inside the house and other random equipment stuffed inside the garage as well, the task ending with Dream and Sapnap’s cars parked safely inside
They would never tell the youngest member of the Dream Team that it was George who parked the Tesla, insisting too confidently after many weeks of Dream teaching him how to drive. By that point, Sapnap had responded to their texts, mostly by making fun of their horrible luck, making a few DNF jokes and wedging in the midst of that a few genuine moments of deep concern, quickly laughed off by mentioning how great California was, and how Florida (and by extension, Dream) both sucked.
Therefore, Dream did not feel even slightly guilty for testing out George’s questionable driving skill with his friend’s ludicrously expensive car.
With their luggage still in the living room and numerous grocery bags lining the kitchen, the pair sat next to each other on the couch, mentally spent and too sleep-deprived to do anything except stare at the ceiling.
“Wanna eat something?” Dream said between yawns. Their arms pressing together again did not escape his notice. These things never do, as a wave of warmth never failed to spread over his chest, threatening to pull a satisfied smile on the corner of his lips. He felt George shift closer, fully leaning on him with his head tilted against his shoulder. It wasn’t the first time they had cuddled up on the couch together, but it was usually Dream who would close up the proximity. George deliberately leaning in was…
‘…Well, this is nice.’
“Mhm… I dunno.” George’s voice was low, tired. Dream felt the way his tone resonated in his chest, almost childlike. “Is Uber Eats still an option?”
“I doubt it.” He sighed. “I could make us sandwiches?”
“No… I want real food.”
“Sandwiches aren’t real food?” Dream asked in amusement. George groaned, turning to rub his face into Dream’s clothes.
“I’m sooo hungry! I could like, I dunno. I could eat you right now.”
George paused, head snapping up to look at Dream in disgust. Or was it embarrassment? Dream couldn’t tell from the blush reddening his cheeks.
“Ew. No. That’s not what I meant. Stop thinking about it.”
“…”
Dream just stared at his friend, mouth slowly spreading in a nasty shark-like grin that he knew brought chills down the other's spine. George fought back having a smile of his own in favour of glaring disapprovingly.
“…What?” He asked Dream impatiently, who remained silent.
“Do you want to eat m—“
“NO!” He nearly screamed, stuffing a pillow against Dreams face and effectively muffling his intense laughter. George’s face was bright red, but he was laughing at least, clearly dragged back from his sleepy mood. If they weren’t up for making lunch earlier, they definitely were now.
“Better make some burgers then. Wouldn’t want you to actually devour me… Or would I?”
“You’re disgusting.”
“Hey, you’re the one that said it, mr. ‘I’ve got a GUYS addiction’!”
“How— how do you even remember that?!”
Dream got up, followed by George who was just staring at him incredulously. He chuckled.
“I never forget anything you say, George. Especially when it’s something gay as hell.”
George rolled his eyes, now no longer hiding his smile. “Ok, mr.’I’m in love with my best friend’, twice.”
“We BOTH got that result.”
“If that helps you sleep at night.” George shrugged while attempting to dodge Dream’s fist that was coming towards him. He didn’t dodge in time, the fist lightly tapping his forearm.
“Ow!”
“Oh, come on George, that didn’t hurt you.”
“This is domestic abuse!” He ran to the other side of the kitchen aisle upon their arrival. Dream shook his head fondly at the idiot holding his hands up to fight while still maintaining enough distance to run at any moment.
“I’ll show you domestic abuse.” He said menacingly.
George’s eyes widened, lips pressed together smiling, yet clearly shocked.
“Oh my God. C!Dream, is that you?” George said in a strained voice, the one he often fell into whenever he was doing ‘Lore’.
“George… You abandoned me. I’m going to kill you.”
“Wait, what—“
Suddenly, Dream ran around the aisle, startling a scream out of George who immediately started dishing out insults like a sailor, something that only his closest friends get to see now that his GeorgeNotFound brand was free of swearing. Dream grabbed him by the collar, pulling him in with his other fist raised as though to administer a painful punch. George squirmed, hands desperate to break free as he held Dream’s hypothetically impending fist at bay in the most dramatic display of non-violence they could both manage without actually hurting one another. In a moment of complacency, George managed to kick Dream’s shin from under him, with accidentally greater force than he intended.
Before either of them realised, they tumbled down, George flat on his back against the kitchen floor with Dream on top of him, one hand still grasping his collar while the other planted next to George’s head, pinning his wrist harshly on the floor.
They stared at each other, frozen in place.
They had never been this close before.
“Are… you alright?” Dream asked, barely breathing. Their noses were almost touching, and Dream could feel George’s breath escaping his parted lips and warming his own.
“Y-yeah… Ack!” He suddenly tensed, trying to break free from Dream’s tightening grasp on his wrist.
“Sorry!” Dream pulled away as if burnt. He didn’t realise his fingers were tightening, and certainly did not intend to hurt him. He placed a hand over his heart in an attempt to calm its loud clamoring against his ribcage.
“Take my hand.” He offered the other to George who was still on the floor, rubbing at his wrist. Deer-like eyes, lost in the headlights of whatever the hell just happened, silently took Dream’s hand in his own and allowed himself to be dragged off the kitchen floor. Dream noticed in rising guilt that George’s wrist was slightly reddened in the place he had grabbed him.
“God, I’m sorry Gogy. I didn’t meant to—“
“I know, idiot.” George chuckled uneasily. “Not your fault, I kicked you and you fell on me. It happens.”
“Yeah, but…” Dream grabbed the afflicted hand, frowning. “You get easily bruised, don’t you?”
He was holding his hand so delicately, that he failed to see George’s shifting expression.
“It’s fine, Dream… I’m fine. Even if it bruises it doesn’t actually hurt.”
“If you say so.” He said, not convinced. He finally looked George in the eye, only to find him looking at him with a tender expression. He wasn’t smiling, but Dream knew it was an expression he sometimes made when he was feeling a lot of things, too many for him to articulate them into words.
He managed to take a few steps back, turning his heel towards the grocery bags.
“Those burgers aren’t going to make themselves!” He said brightly, or, attempted to. There was still some weird tension between them that he hoped to dispel immediately.
George doesn’t feel that way about him. It wouldn’t do Dream any good to dwell on things like this, or freak out every time they were too close for comfort.
“George?”
The brunette remained silent for a moment more, staring at his wrist as if puzzled by it. He shook his head, shaking off with it the awkwardness of the exchange as he helped Dream prepare the ingredients.
Fresh, clean, and no longer smelling like smoked beef, Dream made it to the livingroom in his Oklahoma Sooners sweatpants and matching sweater, curls soaked with a towel resting on his shoulders. It seemed like George was still in the shower, which prompted the Floridian to pull out his phone and call his other best friend.
“Dre, dre, dre. How’s the natural disaster treating you?”
“Pretty good, all things considered.” He chuckled, remembering just how good the burgers were that they made. The pair had made burgers from scratch, mixing ground beef with all sorts of things like cheese, spices, onions and sauces, resulting in the best burger they had ever tasted. He made a mental note to make the same recipe for Sapnap when they’re back together again.
“How’s California?”
“Sunny, nice, good internet. The usual!” Sapnap exclaimed smugly, at which Dream grinned. His friend sounded genuinely happy, as he always was whenever he hung out with Karl.
“Oh Karl says Hi!”
“HI KARL!” Dream screamed into the phone, earning a yelp from his younger friend, and a distant laugh from Karl who was probably listening on speakerphone.
“Anyway, I was thinking, since all our plans are now out the window, we should do something else for George’s birthday. Like, I dunno, an online celebration with the others?”
“Ooh that sounds fun!” Dream heard Karl respond. “Let’s call and play on Minecraft, like the old times!”
“Will the power last?” Sapnap asked incredulously. “What if it cuts out in the middle?”
“I’ll deal with it when that happens. But while the power is still on, I want George to have a little fun on his birthday. Can you see if the others are able to log in? I don’t wanna do a birthday stream or whatever, it’ll just be us, Hannah, Sam, Punz and the others that we originally invited.”
“Roger that! Don’t worry Dre, we’ll figure it all out. Is 6pm okay?”
“It’s perfect.” As he said that, Dream heard movement behind him. George was approaching him, fresh out of the shower, skin slightly reddened from soaking in the hot water. Dream turned to look at him, the corners of his lips tugging at the tousled nest atop George’s head, appearing both chaotic and painfully adorable.
“George, it’s Karlnap. Say hi.”
“HI, KARLNAP!”
“HI GOGY!!” Karl again screamed, no doubt laughing at Sapnap who silently sat between his screaming idiotic friends.
“Gerge! I miss you gerge.” Sapnap fake sobbed, at which Dream scoffed.
“What about me?”
“You’re not pretty like George is.”
“…Fair enough.”
“You guys are idiots.” George shook his head, staring at Dream with narrowed eyes. Dream didn’t know what to make of that look, other than the obvious fact that George wanted to say something but couldn’t.
With a few parting words and jabs, the line was cut, leaving only the two of them once again. Dream wasn’t usually so starkly mindful of his roommates’ whereabouts, being mostly cooped up in his room working or lazily lounging in the Livingroom, where everyone passes him by at their leisure. But, with the storm getting worse, and the sky darkening the windows, Dream did not want to take his eyes off his friend, knowing worry would engulf him in a matter of minutes.
He also had a strange feeling that George somewhat felt the same way, because as soon as the call was cut he dropped onto the couch, his right leg crossed over Dream’s lap and his side unabashedly flushed against him. They remained glued to each other for a few minutes, neither of them saying a word. But then, George leaned his head against his shoulder again, his leg sneaking further into his lap.
“George?” He asked quietly, watching his friend as he fiddled with his phone.
George was pretending not to pay attention to him.
Dream placed a hand onto his exposed thigh, knowing his hands were cold. He pinched him lightly, causing George to jump in his place and yank his leg away.
“Ow! Did you just pinch me?!”
“I’m not a footrest, George.”
“You’re worse than a footrest!” George grumbled to himself, rubbing his thigh, face dusted with a light blush.
Dream side-eyed him, his expression neutral.
“You’re not usually this… Touchy, are you?”
“Huh?” George’s brows twitched down, clearly confused.
“I mean, you cuddle up with Sapnap a lot, but you’re not usually like this with me.” He insisted.
“You’re overthinking it.” George looked away.
Dream leaned in, unconvinced.
“I don’t think so.”
“God, why are you making a big deal out of it?!”
“Because it is a big deal.” Dream frowned. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine! I’m–” He huffed desperately. “Just… A little freaked out, okay? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“You didn’t, that’s not why I’m asking.” Dream’s arms tenderly snaked around George’s shoulder, the other reaching for his hand to prove that this proximity was not unwelcome. George’s hand was warm and soft, fingertips slightly wrinkled from spending close to forty minutes under the searing hot flow of the showerhead. Such small details almost distracted him again, but Dream squeezed into the subtle embrace, grounding himself from the other unwanted feelings brewing within him.
“It’s the storm, isn’t it?” Dream asked, noting George’s unwillingness to look him in the eye.
“The hurricane.” George corrected. “...Yes. It’s just so loud out there? And the bathroom lights fizzed out on me in the shower; it was freaky, like those movies about the end of the world. It dawned on me that it’s a whole fucking hurricane. You know?”
“Yeah, I know.” Dream’s body moved on its own, unclasping the brit’s hand and gently holding his chin with his fingers. Worried eyes met and silenced the storm, focused only on each other and their fast-beating hearts.
“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” It came out almost as a whisper, so unapologetically tender that George blinked for a moment, taken aback.
“You could shut up for a start.” He finally said in a nervous fit of laughter, making it a point to aggressively lean into the embrace, as if challenging the blonde to say anything about it.
Dream snickered, positively melting at the gesture.
“…Thanks, Dream.” The brunet said eventually, his breath warming Dream’s neck. The taller friend did not respond, feeling too cosy and comfortable to acknowledge just how uncharacteristic it was for them to share a moment such as this, without cringing away into the security of vague “jokes” and fear of what could be.
“I told the others we’d be celebrating your birthday later, on Minecraft. You think you’re up for that?”
George hummed lazily. He too seemed to enjoy their impromptu cuddle.
“Sounds good. You think we’ll still have power by then?”
“That’s the same thing Sapnap said earlier.” Dream chuckled into his hair, at which George shook his head in a lousy attempt to shake him off.
“It’s a logical question. Well? What’s your brilliant plan if that happened?”
Dream thought about it for a while. Minutes passed while they remained as they were, cosily huddled together in a way that distracted them both from the rumbles and clutters outside the now completely dark windows, and the ominous creaks and groans of the house as it shielded them from mother nature.
“Mhm… We could wrestle?” Dream suggested innocently.
George raised his head, narrowing his eyes.
“By wrestle, do you mean wrestle?”
“What else could I mean, Georgie?” Dream said cheekily, giggling after George pinched him in the thighs.
“Could be Dream code for having gay sex with your best friend.”
“…I—"
“No, nope!” George aggressively shook his head, betrayed by a wide smile spreading across his face. “Let’s not go there!”
“You brought it up?”
“I was joking!”
“Okay?”
“Stop.” George pulled himself away from Dream, only to fall back on his lap as taller man yanked him down by forearm, tightly wrapping his arms around him with a grin that could only be described as evil. George gasped as he fell, eyes blown wide by the sheer force of the arms he found himself trapped in. Struggling was futile, and he knew it.
“Where do you think you’re going? I didn’t say you could leave.” Dream felt something in his chest, something that overpowered common sense and the boundaries he’d been protecting for so long. With George’s hands pressed up against his chest in an attempt to push him away, the feeling gripped him tighter, guiding his arms to pull the shorter man closer, and closer.
He didn’t really know what he was doing at that point, only that his reasons for holding back made less sense with every millimetre that disappeared in the diminishing space between them.
“I didn’t know I needed your permission to leave.” George said lowly, eyes sparkling something familiar. Something he’d only ever seen in his reflections long ago, whenever his screen darkened mid-discord call and revealed the faces he made as he listened to the man in front of him.
The only reason he held back on his feelings was because he knew George didn’t feel the same way. That’s what he’d always told himself.
Dream’s smile faltered, his arms slightly loosening.
“Dream?” George asked curiously, picking up on his changing mood. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh… Nothing.” Dream smiled cryptically.
‘He doesn’t feel that way about me.’
He repeated in his head, as if to convince himself of it.
‘…Does he?’