Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Help me! Help me, Dream!” Sapnap’s loud voice rang through his head-set as Dream struggled not to fall off his chair from the laughter ripping through him. The sound was almost wezz-like as he struggled for air watching the two minecraft characters chase each other around on his screen.

There was a short pause in the movement, just long enough for a message to appear in the minecraft chat Dream before he saw the chase start up again.

Gogy whispered to you: Come help me kill him

It made Dream’s laughter die down for now as a genuine smile took over his face. “Come on now, I can’t start picking favourites now can I, Gogy.”

Yes you can

It made a chuckle bubble out of Dream as he heard Sapnap’s continuous screams be replaced by complaints of what they were talking about. The thing was, that even though they had played Minecraft for almost three years together, Gogy still didn’t feel completely comfortable giving up the anonymity the internet provided, but Dream didn’t mind that much. He didn’t like using a face cam too after all.

But Gogy was definitely more thorough when it came to staying anonymous, he only communicated over text, never speaking on call and only went by his online name and Dream had only found out that he was from the UK because he had slipped up over what timezone he was in that one time.

It had definitely taken some getting used to but in a way Dream should be glad that it was the way it was, since Gogy didn’t like questions about his private life being asked he never asked any as well, meaning Dream had never had to explain what his mother did for work, or way he wasn’t allowed outside without a bodyguard.

The thing was, Dream’s mother was the American President. She had worked her way up to that position, starting off as the assistant of the mayor of the town in Florida where Dream was born before slowly and steadily climbing the ladder to becoming President. It meant a lot of moving, they only stayed in one place as long as his mother had work there before she got promoted to some other office in some other place.

It wasn’t always bad though, it’s how he ended up meeting Sapnap. When he was around twelve they moved to Texas where he met the son of the fire chief and they became really close really quickly. Of course Dream didn’t stay in Texas for too long but somehow they managed to stay in touch over all these years, never growing apart even when they both passed their eighteenth birthdays.

Dream was twenty one now while Sapnap was twenty, and two years prior on a random night they had met Gogy in a random video game lobby. He had just fit into their dynamic so well and all three of them became best friends instantly.

Their knowledge about Gogy had stayed limited however. He was over eighteen, around their age and thanks to that one slip up they found out that he was from London. The rest of the things they knew about him however were only things, small things, he is a cat person but has multiple dogs because his family likes them, he is colour blind and he is left handed.

But Dream couldn’t complain, there were plenty of things that he kept secret from Gogy too after all. But sometimes he wished Gogy would feel comfortable enough with him to let him in fully, because if Gogy was willing Dream wouldn’t hesitate to do the same.

He had spent endless nights thinking about whether or not to just tell him that his mother was the President, but Sapnap always insisted that it didn’t matter and it was unnecessary while the conversation he had with his mother about online security always rang in his ears.

The only reason Dream was allowed to play online was because he promised her he would stay completely anonymous so he wouldn’t put himself in danger in any way, playing with Sapnap was of course different because she knew him, but he had never mentioned Gogy to her.

Still, he trusted Gogy a hundred percent, and if he asked him to Dream was sure he wouldn’t mind telling him the whole truth. But that was the thing, Gogy wouldn’t ask, because Gogy was as much, if no more, worried about keeping himself hidden.

“Are you deaf!?” The door to his room swung open, Dream letting out an involuntary scream as he actually almost fell from his chair this time. His hand immediately flew to the mute button on his keyboard before he pulled off his headphones, already in the middle of scolding his sister.

“Did no one teach you how to knock? You can’t just storm into my room like that,” He complained, Drista standing in the doorway looking unimpressed as ever, her blond hair threateningly close to falling out of the messy bun she had pulled it into.

Her hair was much lighter than Dream’s, very similar to their mother’s while Dreams was a more dirty blond, closer to his father’s. Their father passed however, only a few years after Drista’s birth so he never had much to compare it to.

“I did knock, after I already screamed out my lungs for an hour,” she countered.

“I know that that’s not true,” Dream rolled his eyes, watching the way both Sapnap’s and Gogy’s characters had a part right in front of him, shifting and every now and again hosting his afk avatar.

“Doesn’t matter, dinner is ready.” Drista said, already starting to step out of his room again.

“I’ll find myself something later,” Dream assured, starting to hop around in the game again.

“Mom wants a family dinner, there's something she wants to talk to us about.” Dream couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped him even before his sister finished

“Fine, I’ll be right down.”

And with that he heard his sister take her leave, of course not closing the door on her way out, leaving Dream to get up and do it before he finally un-deafed again and pulled his headset back on.

Living in the white house meant that there was always someone around, and it wasn’t like he didn’t trust the staff but he just liked it better when he didn’t need to feel like there was someone listening in,

“I have to go eat now, I’ll be back though.” Dream gave the news, already disconnecting from the game as his mouse however over the disconnect button of the call.

“I’ll have to go too, my dad’s cooking for dinner.” Sapnap said, Dream’s eyes are already on the chat just waiting for Gogy’s thoughts to make it through.

You can’t leave me like that :(

“Yes we can, and we will.” Sapnap was quick to disagree, a laugh making it out of Dream at the familiar bantering.

“How about you stay on until I finish eating, Sap? It won’t take long.”

Yes Yes Yes

“Whatever, but if my dad says the lasagne is ready I’m dipping.” Sapnap said, a yawn interrupting his sentence as the squeaking of his chair was picked up by his mike.

Hurry Dream!!

“Okay okay, I’ll be off now.”

A round of see you laters rang through before Dream cut them off by disconnecting. He took down his headset and let himself lean back in his chair for a minute, his fingers finding their way into his hair as they tangled themselves in the dirty blond locks.

If his mother wanted them both at dinner that most definitely meant that she had something important to say, and it wasn’t like he didn’t enjoy family dinners but as the last year of her presidency was slowly coming to its end these dinners had started to feel more and more like a chore.

Still, Dream pulled himself out of his chair and made his way to the dining room. This was one of the things he didn’t like about living in the white house. When they had first moved in, he and Drista had loved exploring the seemingly endless halls, playing hide and seek and trying to find secret doors, but the more they started falling into the routine of everything the more annoying the long halls became. It was moments like this when he missed his childhood home, the little house on the outskirts of Florida.

His mother and sister were already seated, the food already plated as he finally joined them.

“Got here in the end,” his mother said as Dream gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as he passed her, sitting down opposite Drista as he was sure that he caught her already chewing on something before he seated himself.

Even though his mother was always very busy because of work she still made sure to make time for family bonding like this, even though Dream never saw the bonding part in eating together but he chose not to question it.

“So what did you want to talk about?” Dream asked as he started twirling the pasta around his fork, the food got slightly cold with how long it had taken him to get there.

“Yes, so” his mother started off, dropping her hands back onto the table cloth before she even started eating. “We are going to London this weekend.”

“Really?” Drista’s eyes practically lit up as he straightened her back slightly, Dream also excited about that prospect.

“Well, we are.” She said again, this time underlining her statement as she pointed between herself and Dream, Drista’s elan basically seeping out of her again.

“Why not me?”

“You see, the royal family is hosting a dinner party to celebrate the fifty years anniversary of one of their charities. It’s an anti homelessness charity created by the commonwealth, though not all countries participating in the charity are a part of the commonwealth.” Their mother explained, Drista looked up although not with as much interest as before.

“So, Canada, India and all those other places they colonised?” She asked.

“Wasn’t it the French that colonised Canada?” Dream countered, half of his plate already empty.

“It doesn't matter, what matters is that this dinner is next weekend and I want you to accompany me, Clay.” It made Dream pause in the middle of his bite, reminding them of what they were talking about.

“Why can’t I go?” Drista whined.

“It is a prestigious event that doesn’t allow children under sixteen.” Their mother informed them.

“I’m literally turning sixteen in December!”

“Too bad December isn’t before next week.” Their mother said, killing the last hope Drista might have had as she went back to staring at her pasta.

“Are we a part of this charity?” Dream asked after another moment.

“Not yet, but they still invite us to join, I’m hoping that this would be an opportunity to become a part of it.”

“You want to use this as your main campaign during re-elections,” Dream more stated then asked. Over the last years he had picked up on a handful of his mother’s strategies, he was often involved in public appearances and such and taking a big part in supporting charities was one of the main things that brought his mother the win four years ago.

His mother only nodded to answer his question, finally picking up her fork to eat now as well, just as Dream finished up his last bite.

“I think I’ll go back to my room,” Dream said, already getting up.

“Already?” His mother looked up, the fork hovering in the air as her green eyes stared back at him. That was a feature he had most definitely inherited from her, his sister having been given their fathers dark ones.

“Yeah, I was on the phone with Nick, don’t want to keep him waiting.” Dream excused as he made his way out of the dining room, faintly hearing his mothers sigh but choosing to ignore it for now. He would spend the whole weekend with her after all.

He hurried up the stairs, taking two at a time. When he sat back down at his desk he noticed that Sapnap had already left, Gogy sitting in a call by himself.

“Hi, I’m back.” Dream made himself known as he clicked to join the call, the three dots in his private messages with Ggy starting up instantly.

Finally! Sapnap left me all alone :(

“Oh, was big bad Sap mean again?” The blond laughed out. Moments like this were definitely when the weirdness of the situation caught up to Dream, sitting in his room basically talking to himself with no other voices to fill his headphones. But he had gotten used to it by now.

Yes.
How was your dinner?

“Ahm, it was nice, a little cold but pretty good.”

Hmm…

Dream bit his lip a bit uneasily, unsure if what he was planning to say was a good idea or not, but his recklessness got the better of him, the words slowly making it to the tip of his tongue.

“You know, my mother is going to London for a business trip next weekend and she said I could come along.” The blond said, just putting the information out there for now, but he had to admit that when Gogy didn’t immediately start typing again he got a little worried.

It wasn’t like he was expecting anything, but he had kind of thought that Gogy would be excited by the news, that he might even invite him to meet up, that had definitely been Dream’s first thought.

Once it became clear that Gogy wasn’t going to say anything Dream cleared his throat, following up his statement.

“You know, since you live in London I thought we could maybe meet up or something,” He hated how self conscious it came out, as if he was scared of reception, but then again, he kind of was.

Gogy had been his best friend for almost three years now, this trip could finally be the opportunity for them to open up to each other.

The lack of response made Dream think that it had been a stupid decision to bring it up. With Gogy being muted in the call there was no squeaking of a chair or quiet breathing to remind Dream that he wasn’t alone. And without the three dots indicating that Gogy was there he was alone.

I’m not in London next weekend.

A massage finally arrived, Dream’s eyes immediately glueing themselves onto it as a frown appeared on his face.

“If you don't want to meet up, that's fine, you don't have to make excuses.” Dream eventually said, his voice only shoving a hint of bitterness. “I just thought that it would be nice. Just hopping on a face-call would be awkward, but meeting up could be-”

Dream cut himself off, he wasn’t even sure what he was trying to get at, but somehow the idea of meeting up was just exciting. Doing things in person would be easier, they would both see and hear each other at the same time, be face to face. Not that the trip was at the forefront of his mind, Dream couldn’t help the need of incorporating Gogy into it.

I don’t know if I want to meet up

The admission followed after a few minutes of silence, and Dream couldn’t help the hurt closing up his throat, so he found his hands touching down on the keyboard.

Why not?

Sometimes it was easier to match Gogy’s silence, especially when it was just the two of them.

It would make everything complicated

The repost was enough to make a groan leave Dream as he brought his leg up onto his chair, resting his forehead against his knee as he closed his eyes.

“As if it weren’t already complicated, you won’t even talk to us.”

Dream knew better than to get upset about this. After the first weeks of friendship they had already gotten into an argument over this. It was a memory he tried to keep as far away as possible, how he had screamed at a screen while Sapnap tried to calm him down.

It had been after a really stressful day, a smear campaign had been made against his mother and the entire house had been tense and Dream should have just gone to bed but had never been good at self restraint.

When he opened his eyes again he found another message waiting for him, every word feeling like a needle on skin, not exactly painful but uncomfortable.

You know what I mean
There are things that I can’t tell you

“I want you to trust me-” The gamer tag felt far too silly to say now, the reminder that he didn’t even know the others first name only adding to the hurt. “You can. I wouldn’t make fun of you for your looks or for anything. For your job or for still living at home, I do too.”

Dream was aware that he sounded needy, almost despret. And in all honesty he was, he didn’t want to be rejected, not by someone that meant so much to him.

Dream

It was a single word but somehow it made everything a million times worse.

“Isn’t it like really late for you? Don’t you have to go to bed?” Dream cut the conversation short, he didn’t need to be pitied. If Gogy didn’t want to meet him that was a decision he had every right to make.

Yeah, I should probably go

Gogy typed, seemingly taking the hint. Dream was ready to close the tab when he saw another message come through.

I can recommend you a nice restaurant though
Really good indian place

It made a bittersweet smile appear on Dream’s face. Maybe he won't get to finally meet one of the people that mean the most to him in the world but at least he’ll get a food recommendation.

“You do that,” He said before finally closing the tab.

Chapter Text

“I just don’t get him!” Dream complained as he threw another pair of socks into the open suitcase lying on his bedroom floor. The flight to London was leaving in five hours, and Dream had successfully procrastinated on packing up until the very last second.

So that is how he found himself standing over a half full suitcase with Sapnap on face-time on his monitor as Dream already lost count of what else he needed for the weekend trip.

“We have been best friends for basically three years! Three!” Dream continued, falling into his chair as he momentarily gave up on packing again. The thing with Gogy hadn’t left his mind since it happened, especially since Gogy had been seeming a bit distant since then, not joining them for games as often as usual.

Sapnap looked almost bored as he leaned his head in his hands, having listened to the same complaints for the better half of a week by now.

“What did you expect? You know how he is about stuff like this, did you really think he would just drop all his precautions at the first chance to meet you?” Sapnap’s voice rang over the speakers, Dream trying his hardest to ignore the voice in the back of his head telling him that Sapnap was right, as usual.

“I don’t know, I guess I got my hopes up but-” Dream just couldn’t help the hurt he felt at being so openly unwanted, that even after all these years he was nothing but a stranger to Gogy while the Brit meant so much to him.

“Come on, Dream, you're smarter than this. What were you even planning to do? Just show up at his apartment with two bodyguards? Were you planning to introduce his parents to Bink and Bonk?” Sapnap said, laughing at the mental image, and maybe if Dream wasn’t so preoccupied he would have too.

Bink and Bonk had been his primary bodyguards ever since his mother came into office, usually one of them would be with his sister but for trips like this both had their full attention on protecting him.

“I didn’t think that far ahead,” Dream eventually admitted. His eyes roaming over the clothes sprawled out over the floor from where he failed to aim right.

“You didn’t think at all,” Sapnap corrected, receiving a glare from the blond.

A silence settled over them. With the chance of meeting Gogy completely off the table this trip seemed much more like a chore than actual fun. He would much prefer it if it was Drista going instead of him.

“Are you actually upset about this? I thought you knew there was no chance in hell he would actually meet up with you,” Sapnap’s voice lacked any of its usual jokingness this time around, the Texan sitting up on the other side of the screen as he looked almost worried.

“I don’t know,” Dream admitted quietly. He wasn’t sure how to explain it. Because in reality it wasn’t just the thing with Gogy, it was the combination of having to go on a work trip, something he already deeply despised, and the timing of it being so close to re-elections. He had just wanted the pleasant distraction that meeting his best friend would have brought.

It had already been half a year since the last time he had seen Sapnap in person, and it wasn’t like he had really any friends outside of that. Of course there were the people he knew from university, but Dream took most of his classes online so there wasn’t much interpersonal interactions to be had there.

“You know that he loves you, even if he doesn’t show it often,” Sapnap brought him back from his own thoughts, his voice reassuring and it helped a small smile appear on Dream’s face.

“He loves you too.”

“Yeah, but that’s different.” The brunet rolled his eyes, causing a slight frown to appear on Dream’s face.

“What do you mean by that?” Dream asked, not having meant to sound as accusatory as he did.

“You know.” Sap shrugged, Dream very much not knowing.“You have a different relationship with him than I do, it’s not like you two are closer, it’s just different,” Sapnap tried to explain, Dream still not fully understanding what he meant.

“If you say so, what else do you think I need to pack?” Dream changed the subject, even though he really didn’t want to, he needed to finish packing.

“I don’t know, do you already have your formal clothes?”

“Manager Ken is taking care of that, I just need to pack casual stuff,” Dream explained, using his foot to push a shirt hanging over the edge of the suitcase into it fully.

“You’ll only be over there for a weekend so I don’t think you’ll need much more,” Sapnap’s voice cut out slightly over his speakers as he leaned to reach for something, Dream watching him retrieve his water bottle as the blond grabbed his phone off the desk beside him.

What’s the weather like in London?

Dream sent it off before he could overthink it, already putting his phone down again when he heard the quiet bing of a notification, immediately bringing the rectangle back to his face.

Rainy

Usually it would take Gogy longer to answer, but as Dream made the calculation that had become far too familiar in the last years he realised that it was only the early afternoon in the UK. The message made a smile take over his face. It wasn’t even like Gogy had said anything important but for some reason the answer coming through so quickly made a nice kind of heat spread around his body.

“That’s exactly what I mean.” The sudden sound made Dream jump, completely having forgotten about the person on the other end of the call.

“What are you even talking about?” Dream asked, his phone quickly thrown onto his bed on the other side of the room as if to rid himself of any evidence, but by the look on Sapnap’s face he didn’t need any.

“You only ever smile at your phone like that when it’s Gogy,” Sapnap explained, Dream actively ignoring the heat rising to his face now.

“That isn’t true,” he denied weakly, but even he could admit that it sounded unconvincing.

“It's fine Dream, just-” Sapnap went quiet again, his jokingness once again replaced by sincerity. It was throwing Dream off, he wasn’t used to the other being this willing to seriously engage him in emotional things like this. “Just don’t get your hopes up, at the end of the day he’s just another person on the internet that doesn’t owe you anything.”

Dream just nodded, it was the only thing he could do right now. Because he knew that Sapnap was right, and he knew that Gogy didn’t owe it to him to meet up with him and that if he let himself get lost in the idea, he would only end up hurting himself.

It was a hard pill to swallow, one he hadn’t fully gotten around to taking. But at least he knew that it existed, even if he was too weak to fully let go of the hope of one day getting to meet Gogy.

It was a quiet knock at his door that signalled the end of this conversation, Dream’s mother poking her head into the mess that Dream’s room had become.

“Oh god, please tell me this isn’t what you're planning on taking?” She sighed out after taking one look at everything thrown into the suitcase with no care to sort or even just fold it properly.

“What do you mean? It looks perfect to me,” Dream said, unable to keep the smirk from appearing on his face.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Chase, I made sure he packed his underwear,” Sapnap called out loudly over the call, Dream’s mother finally noticing the other.

“Sap!” Dream felt the heat quickly reappear on his face. He had learned early on to minimise the amount of time Sapnap got to spend in the same place as his mother.

“Thank you very much for that, Nick,” Dream’s mother laughed, coming over to be in frame for the other to see, Sapnap sitting up in his chairs, saluting.

“I do what I can to serve this country, Mrs. President,” he said in an overly serious voice, making Dream’s mother laugh while Dream just sunk into his chair further.

“I think this means I have to go now, Sap, talk to you later.” Dream had decided to put an end to this whole interaction, disconnecting from the call before Sapnap had any chance to complain.

There was a silence that followed, his mother standing up straight again as she looked over the mess in her son’s room.

“Just finish packing, we’re leaving in a half an hour,” his mother said, Dream sighing overdramatically as he leaned all the way back with his chair. “Come on now, this trip is going to be fun, now hurry up.”

His mother didn’t wait for an answer this time around, just leaving and purposefully leaving the door open, forcing Dream to finally get out of his chair. And once he was standing it wasn't even that bad to finish throwing the rest of his clothes into the suitcase and finally closing it up.

He finished with packing his hand luggage, throwing in his headphones, charger, powerbang and toothbrush before meeting up with his mother in the entryway of the white house. Bink and Bonk were already there waiting for him, carrying his luggage to the car while he said goodbye to his sister.

The car ride was uneventful, mostly because his mother was busy doing who-knows-what while Dream mindlessly stared out the window. It wasn’t until the two of them sat opposite to each other in the private jet reserved for the American President that his mother stopped working for a moment.

A private jet had definitely been one of the benefits of his mothers new job, it made travelling so much more comfortable, although his mother only ever allowed them to fly when it was for a good reason, and apparently flying to Texas over a weekend didn’t qualify as one.

His mother having to constantly answer emails or being on a phone call, however, was one of the biggest downsides of this whole arrangement. Outside of their occasional family dinners they really didn’t get to spend much time as a family anymore, and even those had become just another way to talk about work.

“Mom?”

“Yeah? What is it, Clay?” His mother asked, interrupting looking out of the window as they neared the runway in favour of looking back at her son.

“There is this Indian restaurant in town that I would like to try while we are there,” Dream said, unsure of why he felt as nervous about this as he did.

“Sure, we have dinner tomorrow, so how about we go there on Sunday for lunch before we fly back?” His mother proposed, Dream practically able to see how she thought over their schedule in her mind.

“That'll be perfect.” The smile that appeared on his face was wide, and he was already looking forward to it. Maybe it wouldn’t be the same as going there with Gogy but it came close to being as exciting.

It was only when they were securely in the air again, when the flight attendant told them that it was fine to turn their electronic devices back on that Dream noticed he had gotten another message from Gogy.

Have a nice flight

Chapter Text

“Don't rest your elbow on the table, George.” His mother’s voice brought George out of his train of thought, the Brit quick to sit up properly.

For some reason, however, he found it so incredibly tiring, just ending up hunched over the barely touched breakfast before him.

The whole thing with Dream had barely let him rest, the guilt swirling around his mind at not being able to be honest with his best friends causing him to lose sleep.

“Are you feeling alright?” His mother spoke up again, and George knew that this would happen, he had never been very good at keeping things from her.

“It's fine, just a bit tired,” George tried to assure her, looking up to smile at her, but the smile quickly faded when he found her unconvinced expression looking back at him.

“Is it your insomnia again?,” she asked, the worry never leaving her face, and it was too much for George to bear so he averted his gaze back to the fancy plate his plain toast was served on.

He much prefers more minimalistic dishes, but at the same time having plain white plates in such a room would look severely out of place. In Buckingham palace there were more modernised and, in Georges opinion, less tacky rooms, but his father insisted that they ate in the main dining room.

It had tall windows and intricate details worked into the architecture as well as the decor. George's father, King Henry, had grown up eating in this room so he would continue eating in it. It was his way to make the tradition live on.

“It's not insomnia, I just went to bed too late last night,” George eventually admitted. He knew that his mother didn't like it when he stayed up too late, but it was better than making her worry unnecessarily.

His mother just sighed.

“If you don't feel up to it you can sit it out tonight.” It was his father’s deep voice that caught his attention this time around. The king kept his eyes on the newspaper he was reading.

It annoyed George. He already rarely got to spend time with both of his parents and to have his father more interested in the morning papers instead of him got under his skin in a way he tried his hardest to ignore.

But then again, he wasn't trying to converse with them much either. He was preoccupied with other thoughts.

“I'll take a small nap later, I'll be fine for dinner,” George assured. He wasn't exactly fond of public events like this but a lot of people were flying in for this, and a lot of press was going to be there and George had already sat out the last public appearance he was supposed to be at.

“Don't over do it,” his father said, his word signalling concern, although it didn't carry in his voice.

George just nodded, the motion giving him a slight whiplash as he suddenly felt a bit dizzy, his untouched breakfast staring back at him almost judgmentally.

“I think I'll lay down for a bit,” George decided, making sure to be slow in his movements as he got to his feet.

“Make sure to eat something before lunch,” his mother called after him as he left the room.

The walk was long, longer than he would have liked it to be. It wasn't like it was a problem, but the seemingly endless halls had become nothing more than a hassle some time when he had grown up.

When he had been a young boy he had loved running around, exploring all the cracks and crevices the castle offered with his cousins. As long as his health allowed it anyways.

Growing up he was always smaller in comparison with his classmates, he was also allways to get out of breath during recess and his insomnia often left him too tired to engage in a lot of play.

His doctors had assured him that he would grow out of it, and for the most part he did. He still felt short of breath from time to time, and his sleeplessness sometimes caught up to him. But for the most part he was healthy.

Eventually he found himself in front of his bedroom door again, greeting a member of staff as she passed by, before he entered the dark room. He always made sure to greet the staff in passing.

They were one of the only reasons why living at Buckingham palace was bearable. Because although they tried to go unnoticed through the day they did bring a sense of life into the place. Considering George didn't have any siblings it helped the palace feel less empty, especially when his parents were out on business.

George was in his last year of university, he studied computer science, online for the most part though. It wasn't like he was untrusting, but the older he got the more he became aware of the divide between him and the people around him.

In primary school it hadn't mattered. Kids hadn't cared about your status as long as you could play hide and seek, but the older they got the more they wanted to be friends with George. It became overwhelming quickly, and as soon as George was given a choice he chose to go to online school.

Now he was twenty four and had exactly two friends to his name. Two friends that didn't even know his name. Two friends that he wanted nothing more than to actually meet but instead he pushed them away.

Because he knew that he couldn't. His mother didn't even know that he talked to these people. She had only allowed him to get his gaming setup because he told her he needed it for school, and she only let him get minecraft because he had told her it was a single person game with no connection to the internet.

He knew that her protectiveness came from a place of love, of wanting to keep him safe but it still had a way of annoying him. He was a grown man and yet he felt like his life was consistently monitored by the people around him.

George sighed as he laid down on his bed, sinking into the soft mattress as he let the sheets consume him. The room was dark, his blinds closed fully and the only light coming from the white glow of the digital clock on his bedside table.

He reached out to grab his phone from where it rested besides the clock, seeing that he had received some more messages from Sapnap last night.

Mindlessly he scrolled through them. It was mostly memes, some questions about how his communication with Dream was and lastly a good night message.

Sapnap did that often, he seemed to like spamming George full of mostly meaningless messages before going to sleep knowing that George wouldn't wake up to them until hours later. But George couldn't pretend like he disliked it.

It gave him enough time to go through each message, not feeling stressed in having to come up with a response since the other would be sleeping anyways. It was a system that worked for them, for Dream it didn't.

Over the last years George had learned a good amount about Dream. He wasn't as open about his family and work life as Sapnap, but all the rest he never seemed able to shut up about. He could go on for hours about a new coding language he learned or about his cat or a book he was currently reading and George could spend hours just simply listening.

But Dream was the kind of person that needed to know that someone was still listening. He only ever actively texted George when he was responsive, and if George was busy he would wait until he wasn't.

George had never more than three unread texts from Dream, while the ones from Sapnap often reached the hundreds. It was different, for sure, but in no way bad.

Dream didn't care if he got incoherent or not thought out answers, he just always seemed happy to get to talk to George no matter what, and that fact made his heart ache at the probability of never being able to actually open up to him.

Deep down George knew that it wouldn't be a problem to be just a little more honest, to tell them his name and join voice calls at least. George was one of the most common British names anyways, they wouldn't tie it back to the royal family. Same was for his voice, it wasn't all that unusual and, even if, he didn't think that two american guys would be well versed with the british monarchy.

But still, there was always the paranoia in the back of his mind, telling him that it would be a bad idea to let them in. That someone somewhere could possibly figure out who he was. Or that they would turn on him for it. That they would start treating him differently like all the other kinds did once they were old enough to understand the context around who George was.

He couldn’t let that happen, he was too scared of losing them.

George sighed as he scrolled past jet another meme. Usually he and Sapnap had the same sense of humour but today it wasn't all that amusing to him. And then his eyes landed one one of the last messages he had sent him.

Have you talked to Dream?

He did, in fact. It wasn’t a lot, and not since the American had landed but they had talked.

George already started typing up a response when he hesitated. This was why he liked this system he had going with Sapnap, he could take all the time he needed to go over how to phrase things. But right now he was overthinking whether or not to talk about it at all.

Sapnap had dealt with his and Dream’s disagreements in the past. He was always the one able to keep a cool head while Dream got loud and George shut off completely, he was their mediator in a sense. And sometimes George felt guilty for it. From what he had figured out from context cues Sapnap was the youngest out of the three yet always the one most often getting stuck with babysitting George’s and Dream’s feelings.

In the end George just searched for a meme to send back, deciding to nap instead of overthinking everything further. He had a long day before him after all.

Chapter Text

It was already late afternoon when George found himself in his room getting dressed for the event. Miraculously he had managed not to sleep through lunch, although he was left to eat alone anyways while his parents were busy making sure the preparations were coming along.

Now George had multiple people hurry around him as they adjusted some part of his outfit. It consisted of a fairly standard light blue almost grey suit with some details embroidered around the hems of the trousers as well as a brooch and a tie to pull the whole look together.

He knew that it had been a custom made suit for this very occasion, but in all honesty it fit like every other suit he had worn in his life. George had always found it ridiculous to have a suit made just to wear it once and never touch again. He was sure that his mother had explained the reason for it to him before, but he probably wasn’t bothered enough to listen so he would most likely spend the rest of his life in unknowingness.

It wasn’t like he cared though.

At least it gave him a sense of routine. The routine fittings and re-measurements of every length of his body, it was something he had grown to enjoy, because it was one of the few instances he got to spend extended periods of time with someone that didn’t involve either his parents or the media. He had grown very fond of the conversations he got to have with the old gentleman, who had been responsible for his dad's attire when the king was still a prince. It was a story George heard every time they met for measurements, and it was a routine he never seemed to get tired of.

“Ready for the big night?” He asked, his voice raspy as always as he looked George up and down.

“If you green light me, then sure,” George said, smiling up at him as the last person adjusting his tie stepped away.

“Looks good to me,” he decided, a deep chuckle leaving him as he nodded to himself.

“The guests are set to start arriving soon, the king and queen are already waiting in the entrance room for you.” It was another member of staff that informed George, the brunet thanking them before making his way out the room and down the hall.

The halls were filled with much more staff than usual, adding an almost buzzing feel to the air as George passed people hurrying along making sure everything was just perfect for the event. As soon as all the guests appeared George knew they would become close to invisible, always making sure everything went smoothly but never getting in the way of the guest.

Especially on a day like this. A lot of press was going to be present, on one hand because a lot of different politicians and members of the higher class would be joining them, on the other hand simply because it was a charity event and rich people loved to be photographed doing good deeds. But George was in no position to judge, whether he liked it or not he was in the same boat as all the rest of them.

As George entered the foyer he realised that he had taken just a tad bit too long to reach it, his parents already welcoming the first guest. He was quick to join their side, placing himself on the right side of his father.

“Oh there you are,” his father noticed him. George took note of the slightest bit of annoyance in his father’s eye but the king had always been good at masking his emotions. “This is our son, George,” he introduced him, pushing George just the slightest bit forward.

“The resemblance is very apparent,” The man he was now shaking hands with said, and George knew he was supposed to know who it was but as took in the tall man before him he couldn’t connect a name to the face.

“It’s nice to meet you.” George tried to be polite, the grip the other used to shake his hand just the slightest bit too hard for his liking.

“The pleasure is all mine, the whole Liontooth family was very grateful for the invitation though I have to excuse my wife and daughters for not being able to join tonight.” That’s it, the Liontooths. George knew that the father was some important politician in South Africa while the mother was the leader of some botanical research group focusing on the preservation of natural flora or something along those lines.

“We are just glad that you could make it,” George’s mother spoke up, carrying the conversation until slowly but surely the rest of the guests trickled in. This was one of the parts George hated the most, standing around welcoming everyone personally, having to shake hands with everyone and having to act like he knew everyone.

Hosting was always such a hassle, but at the same time George hated having to leave Buckingham Palace for these kinds of events. Like this it at least meant that he had a shorter way to his room once his parents allowed him to ditch the whole thing.

“Thank you so much for the invitation, I hope this can be an opportunity to think about the US officially joining this charity.”

George had zoned out a bit, going through the repetitive motion of shaking hands and smiling on autopilot, but the unfamiliar sound of a woman’s voice made him snap out of it.

“It’s our pleasure to host you today,” his father repeated the thing he had said for the past however long it already had been.

That was the American president, George realised, and next to her stood a man, who was a good head taller than George. He looked slightly out of place, wearing a suit not seeming to come natural to him with his lanky limbs. What threw George off more, however, was that he didn’t even meet his eyes, he just looked off into space, his eyes passing over the details of the architecture instead of being interested in the conversation.

“This is my son, Clay,” His mother introduced him, George noticing the ever so light nudge she gave him.

“Nice to meet you,” he said as if rehearsed, one of his hands fidgeting with the fabric of his trousers pocket. George didn’t answer, nor did he reach his hand out. He couldn’t care less about the American president, they weren’t even official members of the charity. George hadn’t understood why they were invited to begin with, and now the son turned out to be just as rude as the last son of an American president George had met.

“I hope you enjoy the dinner.” It was once again George’s mother filling the silence where George failed to, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care enough. The Americans just nodded, the president pushing her son along.

She didn’t wait quite long enough to scold him though, because as the next guest already started up the next conversation with George’s parents he heard their whispers.

“Take your hand out of your pocket, this is an important event for us,” she whispered to Clay, another nudge accompanying her statement. George was already turning back to joining in on the conversation taking place besides him when the slightest whisper of a word made it to his ears.

“Whatever.”

It was spoken in that almost whiny way, like a child trying to gloss over something bad they did, it was the same tone Dream used. Everytime he spent too long arguing about something just to realise he was actually in the wrong. It wasn’t just the tone though, it was the voice too, the same breathy smooth voice George had gotten so used to hearing in the last three years.

It almost gave him a whiplash when he turned his head to the pair of Americans disappearing in the direction of the main event.

“Everything alright, George?” His father’s voice brought him out of his thoughts again, the familiar dizz of turning his head too quickly swarming his mind as his eyes became unfocused. He could, however, make out the silhouette of the Canadian minister and his family, all staring at him.

“I’m okay, just a bit light headed,” George admitted, hanging his head slightly out of embarrassment.

“It’s alright, you can go ahead, get something to drink,” his mother said, her voice soft and he was glad for the familiarity of it. He made sure to excuse himself properly from the Canadians before making his way down the hall as well, his steps faster than they probably should have been.

His racing thoughts only added to the dizziness he felt. It couldn’t be. Just because Dream was currently in the UK because of his mother’s work trip it didn’t mean that he was the son of the American president. It definitely added up but still, if he really was he would be much more careful on the internet, he would behave more like George.

George asked the first staff member he saw for a glass of water, the cold glass being handed to him just a moment later as his eyes already started scanning over the room. The dinner was cut into two parts, first was a buffet while they waited for everyone to arrive and the king and queen to hold a little presentation on what all this was about before they would move on to the dining hall for the actual dinner part of the night.

All the people George had already greeted were standing around in smaller groups, chatting amongst themselves as they ate the snacks that were plated up along the two long tables at the sides of the room. It was mostly bread with different spreads that was plated up on high trays. Alongside it there was a stacked up pyramid of champagne glasses on either table.

It took George a little of walking around to find Clay again, and when he did it wasn’t because he saw him, it was because that ever so familiar wheezing sound made it to his ears. Clay was standing next to Mr. Liontooth, laughing along to something the other said and George swore it was the sound he had heard echo through his headphones a million times before.

George realised that he was staring at the blond only when golden coloured eyes finally met him, staring back at him from the other side of the room. The stare was enough to make George turn around on his heels, trying to escape the embarrassment at being caught by averting his gaze and walking up to the closest cluster of people, fitting himself into the conversation easily.

Talking to people had always been complicated for George. In a sense it was easy, he had been taught how to do it ever since he was born, the moment he started to speak he was put into various language programs to help him improve his rhetorical skills, but that had always felt like work.

In work environments like this it was easy to fill up the air with meaningless small talk, to bounce the conversation around between however many people were involved. But when it was just him and someone else, be it his parents, his tailor or Dream, it became hard. The only thing he knew how to talk about were the meaningless things, the weather, what team won the football game the previous night, and what horse he was betting on next Saturday.

But the real stuff, emotions and feelings, he had never learned how to communicate. He knew how to say that he felt unwell, considering his medical history it was something he had to be conscious of, how to communicate that he needed a moment to breathe but anything outside of that felt scary.

Sometimes he wondered if that was the reason he didn’t open up to Dream or Sapnap, because he simply didn’t know how to.

George fell into the routine quickly, the conversation flowing smoothly between him and the politicians beside him, but what was meant to be just a short escape turned into three more conversations with three more clusters of people. He always found himself circling back to the same topics, the ones he had received numerous times in his life already, the ones that weren’t complicated or confusing.

Eventually he managed to slip away from the group, making his way to the closest member of staff and requesting another glass of water. George would never understand why they didn’t just serve water at these kinds of events, it was always either alcoholic drinks or juice that could be mistaken for alcohol. And either wouldn’t do him any good, not with the headache he was developing.

George found another free space to set his glass down at, the empty dish getting grabbed by the next staff that passed without George even noticing them. They really did know who to become invisible.

He allowed himself a moment to breathe, to look over the sea of people once more as the room seemed to fill up nicely. It wouldn’t be long until the last people arrived and his parents would officially declare this event as started.

It was when George’s eyes passed over that pyramid of glasses again that they got caught on blond hair. Clay was standing in front of one of the pyramids staring up at it. His mother was probably off talking to the important people which left Clay looking like a kid alone at a birthday party.

George needed to hear him speak again. It was the only way of confirming it was actually him.

So he walked over before promptly stopping right next to Clay. And then he stood there. It took a moment for the other to notice him, and another for him to actually look over, and for some reason George found himself short of breath once again, unable to think of anything to say.

He should have thought of what to say before he walked over, because now he felt the need to turn around again and pretend to be interested in what horse a random millionaire's son was betting on.

“Had enough of staring from across the room? Had to come over and take a closer look?” Clay spoke before George had a moment of slipping away again, the smirk on his face only adding to the heat that had accumulated on the Brit’s face.

It made George’s brows frown, however, when he spoke like this he didn’t sound like Dream at all. It sounded too polished, too serious even with the clear joke he was trying to make, and that comment too, it got under George’s skin in a way that usually only Sapnap managed to do.

“You think very highly of yourself, don’t you.” George shot back his voice coming out ruder than intended but it managed to pull a laugh out of the other. The sound of it only added to George’s confusion, because when he laughed, when he chuckled that breathy kind of sound out it did sound like Dream, but maybe Americnas just had a way of laughing?

It made George wonder. He hadn’t met that many americans in real life, mostly because he generally didn’t met many people that weren’t either old or related to him and maybe everything going on with Dream still floating around in his head his mind decided to play tricks on him, making him hear things that weren't there because he was desperate enough to want to imagine the first american his age to be the man he had wanted to meet for the last three years.

“So the prince does talk. I was already starting to wonder.” Clay said as he calmed down from his laughter, George was unable to decide whether to take offence or laugh it off. In the end he just gave a shrug as his mind kept stumbling over itself, unable to decide on what to believe. He needed more information.

In the end he settled on something, the world leaving him before he could overthink it. If this was Dream, the best way of getting him to confirm it was to give him a sign that he was in fact Gogy, and the best way of doing that was by saying something only the two of them would understand.

“These pyramids are rather strange, don’t you think?” George started off, catching the others attention again from where he had pulled out his phone from his pocket, Clay only sparing the glass construction a short glance.

“I guess? It’s not like anyone could actually drink that much.” He said.

“Yeah,” George tried to add a chuckle, to make the nerves lessen. “It’s pretty high too, every glass is like three elephants tall.”

It was an inside joke, one that came to be from a late night call where he and Dream ended up browsing through Amazon mindlessly. They ended up coming across rose quartz elephants, Dream finding the description of them being 1.5 inches tall so hilarious that he insisted on buying one for George.

George didn’t allow him too, obviously, he wasn’t about to give this random guy his address. A few days later George did end up asking one of the maids to buy it for him, and a few days after that he had been handed the small package. He took a picture of the pink elephant and sent it to Dream, and to this day it has been the only picture he had ever sent the other.

He had gone crazy over making sure that there was nothing else to see, no cable in the background, not hand in the corner of the screen and no reflection in the shiny finish of the elephant. Dream had loved it, and they still often joked about the 1.5 inches, jokingly measuring things in elephants instead of just saying the height.

When Clay looked back at him for a moment without saying anything George had almost thought that he had actually gotten it, that there was a slight shine of recognition flashing over Clay’s face, but when Clay spoke up again George knew that he must have imagined it.

“Don’t you people use the metric system?”

It made George’s face heat up once more, the way Clay looked at him with other confusion making him feel like an absolute fool for having believed that this guy could possibly be his Dream.

“We- we do it’s just-” George stammered, trying to collect himself but Clay didn’t give him an opportunity to, just rolling his eyes and already turning to leave, probably having decided that George wasn’t with his time.

And that made George snap out of whatever trance he had been in. Who was this guy to roll his eyes at him? George was still the prince of England, and if he made an unfunny joke it was Clay's job to humour him and laugh along to it.

George had been so caught up in this man being Dream that he completely lost track of where they were and what they were doing.

And the thing is, they were at his castle for a charity dinner hosted by his family, and if Clay wanted to be rude he could do that all he wanted back in the states but not in George’s own home. And to think that he actually mistook him for Dream.

“You don’t talk to me like that.” George stated, harsh and commanding like his father always did when he got upset. George grabbed at the sleeve of the blond, tugging him back and causing the blond to stumble into the table beside them a little.

“What the- Don’t touch me.” Clay pulled his arm back staring the shorter down, and George stood up a bit straighter.

“You don’t speak to the prince of England like that, especially not in my own home and especially not when we were nice enough to invite you out.” George knew better than to let his emotions get the better of him, but the whole week something has been bubbling inside of him, it was the added frustration of things not going his way and the mess he had made of his relationships. He needed someone to take it out on.

“Whose we? You have nothing to do with this, the monarchy is nothing but a figurehead to sell merchandise to tourists stupid enough to come to this place.” And Clay had the audacity to crouch as he spoke, to put the tw at eyes high. George didn’t care about his height, he had always found it so stupid when men measured their ‘manliness’ on something that irrelevant, but that blatend show of disrespect managed to annoy him.

“High talk from someone who was nothing just four years ago. From someone who will go back to being nothing once your mama loses re-elections.” George knew that he had gone too far the moment he saw the genuine rage burn up in golden eyes, the others stare darkening as Clay’s hands came up to shove him.

If George had stood slightly to the side the worst that could have happened was for him to stumble to the floor, but as he hit the side of the table he already knew what was coming even before the glasses started falling.

Both him and Clay were barely able to shield their faces as the champagne filled pyramid of carefully stacked glasses came crashing down on them. The champagne spilled over them as the glaces shattered into million pieces on the stone floor, shards flying everywhere as George heard the unanimous gasp from everyone around.

When George straightened up again slowly the first thing he noticed was Clay staring at him, his golden eyes holding no other emotion than horror as his mouth hung slightly open staring back at the prince. His blond hair was dripping with golden liquid, already starting to look as sticky as George felt.

It was as if the world had gone completely quiet for just a moment, and before George knew it, that moment ended, the world coming crashing down on him. First it was the unmistakable flashing of cameras and then an uncountable amount of the royal guard swarmed him. The last thing he saw was the way they pushed Clay out of the way to get to him, and then he was fully surrounded as they started leading him out of the dining room with hurried steps.

The further down the hall they got the more distant the commotion sounded, and George felt grateful for the hand around his forearm leading him, stabilising every step he took. It happened far too quickly for George to really grasp what was happening, but eventually he found himself in a bathtub, hot water enveloping every part of his body as he sunk into the feeling.

It was only then that his hands connected with the liquid slowly dripping down his cheek, and when he brought his hand forward to inspect it he was horrified to find the deep red of his own blood staring back at him.

Chapter Text

Dream stood in horror. It was all he could do.

His body felt disgustingly sticky from the bubbly liquid slowly dripping down his suit, making it cling uncomfortably to his body, his body that felt completely frozen while all he could do was stare. Stare as little droplets of deep red blood bubbled up from the tiny cut on perfectly smooth skin. The droplets formed to one big one, slowly trickling down pale skin, almost tauntingly slow as all Dream could do was watch.

The moment was short, Dream finding himself being pushed out of the room in less than a minute of the glass shattering, being pushed into a car in less the two. He felt completely lost, staring into the space before him as he struggled to go over what had just gone down. But even in his haze he knew one thing for sure; He had fucked up.

It was the only thought he could get a hold of, the rest passing through his mind far too quickly to make out and all Dream could do was pray that all this was just a bad dream. A nightmare he would soon enough wake up from. That he would be back in the white house with his only worry being whether or not his online friend wanted to meet up with him and not whether he had just jeopardised international relations.

There was a constant buzzing in his ears, and he wasn’t sure if it was the car engine or a voice but he couldn’t make out a single word, he could only sit still as the busy city passed outside of his window. He didn’t even realise when the car stopped, when he was once again pushed out and led into the hotel, up the elevator and into the room his mother was staying in.

It was only when he slumped into the soft cushions of a couch that he somewhat snapped out of his haze, his mother’s voice slowly registering with him as she paced up and down in front of him.

“What were you thinking?! How could you be so stupid as to lay your hands on the prince of england!”

It would have been hard not to register his mother’s voice. She had always had a very loud and expressive voice. Dream always thought that that was the main reason she was able to make it in politics, but it had always made being at the receiving end of her anger the more scary, especially when he knew he was in the wrong.

“He started it! He-” He still tried to defend himself, Dream had never been good at taking blame, especially when he already felt bad for what he did but he should have known better than to speak back, his defence being quickly cut off.

“I don’t care who started what, we’ll be lucky if this doesn’t make national news but the damage is done either way. Because no matter what happened, to the king and queen it sure as hell looked like you pushed their son into a pyramid of glass.”

Dream hung his head, swallowing hard as he tried not to physically cringe at the words, because that’s exactly what happened. He had let his temper get the better of him and ended up making a mess; like usual.

His eyes flickered around the room for a moment, his mother continuing to pace as she talked quietly to herself, probably trying to sort out her own thoughts. Her room was very similar to the one room over where Dream was staying at, just that her luggage was much more neatly pushed into one corner while Dream’s had somehow already found itself all over the floor.

As his eyes passed over they landed on the third person in the room. Dream hadn’t even noticed that Manager Ken had walked in with them, but in a way he should have expected it. He was always the first to hear about stuff like this, the right hand man of his mother was always there to help her clean up any messes they came across, and this was definitely a big mess.

He stood with an open laptop on his arm, his hand flying over the keyboard every now and again, seeming completely concentrated on what he was doing. For as long as Dream can remember his mother being a serious politician Manager Ken has been there, always in his plain T-shirts and jeans with his curly hair and square glasses.

Over the years that Dream has known him he had alway looked the exact same, he couldn’t recall a single time he had worn something more professional, the manager always going for his plane shirts, but it suited him in a way. It wasn’t like there was anyone he needed to impress anyways, he stayed behind the scenes for the most part.

“Oh no,” Ken spoke up, Dream sitting up a bit straighter as his mother stopped her pacing. Hearing that from Ken was never a good sign. “The first article is up.”

Dream’s mother was by his side in less than a second, looking over at the screen, her already pale face losing that last bit of colour as her eyes read over the head line. “Oh no,” Now that was a very bad sign, and so Dream joined them to see the article, and maybe it would have been better to just have stayed seated.

“Son of the American president attacks beloved prince,” Dream read out loud, his voice barely over a whisper as his eyes focused on the picture attached to the article, big and right there below the headline. It only showed Dream from the back, but that also meant it had a clear and perfect view of George.

Of his wide brown eyes and the clear red contrasting with his perfectly smooth pale skin. Both of them soaked with champagne as glass splitters layed around them. Dream didn’t even want to know what the article had to say, so he just went back to drop onto the couch, but as it seemed his mother really needed him to see the consequences of his actions.

She took the laptop out of Ken’s arms, reading it perfectly smooth as if it was one of her speeches. “During the charity dinner hosted by the royal family to celebrate the 50 year anniversary of one of their longest lasting charities fighting homelessness the son of American President Chase was seen getting into a fight with the soft-spoken prince,” she read off.

Dream wanted to cover his ears, to be swallowed up by the leather couch and never come up again.

“From first hand sources it is said to have been following a longer argument that ended with Clay Chase shoving his royal highness into a decorative champagne tower and causing it to shatter on and around the prince, leaving Prince George injured.”

“It was an accident! Besides it was a tiny cut, that doesn’t qualify as an injury!” Dream called out, raising his voice just the lightest bit as he felt desperate to be understood. He needed his mother to know that it hadn’t been his intention, that he didn’t mean to cause a mess.

“It doesn’t matter what it was! This is what it looked like and if we can't fix it it could cost us the reelections.” That made Dream’s mouth shut close in an instant, the burning feeling behind his eyes starting to become distracting as he focused on blinking them away.

He had always been a bit of a cryer, whenever the world around him became too overwhelming it was his body's first reaction to deal with it and although his mother had always taught him that it was okay to cry he knew that she hated it when he did it in situations like this.

When he was the one that messed up, when he made a mistake. His father had always told him that he needed to be strong, to pull himself together because his mother already had so much on her plate that she couldn’t handle a crying child.

But that was all Dream wanted to be in that moment, a crying child because he could be the reason they lost everything his mother had worked so hard for to build. So he swallowed down the tears.

“Americans don’t care about a monarchy on the other side of the ocean,” he tried to argue, his voice much smaller and shakier than he would have liked it to be. And as his mother’s green eyes snapped over to him he wished he had just held his tongue.

“They care whether or not we are competent, whether or not we are able to form healthy relationships with other countries. The promise of a trading agreement between the US and Mexico was what won us the first election, and if Robert uses this to paint us in a bad light we won't be able to recover from that,” his mother said, slow and steady with a certain undertone, as if her patience was already running thin but she had to talk slowly because otherwise Dream wouldn’t get it.

It made him feel even more like that stupid little boy he once was, the one that ran crying to his mother because he had another one of those scary nightmares. It made it harder to blink away the tears.

His mother probably saw it, she must have, she knew him far too well to not have noticed. So she sighed, that sigh that sounded so so tired and that made the guilt Dream felt only hurt worse.

“Go take a shower and get to bed, Clay.”

Dream didn’t argue, the champagne had already started to dry and it only made the feeling worse as he stood up and started to make his way to the door. He heard Ken call a good night after him but he only had the energy to whisper a response before he passed Bink and Bonk in front of the door to his own room.

The exhaustion hit him all at once as he tried to undress himself from the sticky shirt, the buttons slipping out of his hands and making unbuttoning the shirt all that more frustrating. The shower helped release some of the tension that had built in his mussels but it was only when he fell into the soft sheets of the bed that he could really let his body go lax.

He didn’t have the energy to go look for his charger in between the scattered mess that had become of the hotel room floor so he just pulled up Gogy’s contact to send a quick message not thinking the other would see it.

Good night
Hope your day was better than mine

He sent, already ready to put his phone away when he felt it vibrate, signalling a response.

I don’t know about that
Was yours really that bad?

Dream had almost forgotten that they were in the same timezone now, and although it was already late it wasn’t an uncommon time to still awake. Getting to talk to Gogy makes a smile make it to his face.

My mom is mad at me because I’m an idiot
So it isn’t great

He sent it off, keeping it as vague as possible while still getting the main issue across. The message was followed by a few moments of silence, the three dots disappearing and reappearing a couple of times but once it came through it made a chuckle leave Dream as he let his eyes fall shut.

Nothing indian food can’t fix

~~

Dream’s phone must have died sometime in the night, because it wasn’t the obnoxious sound of his alarm that he had gotten so used to that lured him out of sleep but rather the soft shaking of his shoulder.

“You have to wake up Clay, it’s already noon.” It was Ken, of course it was. As much as he was his mothers right hand man, always there to give her a different perspective and advise he was also more or less Dream’s babysitter.

On any trip, or even just when his mother was too busy it was Manager Ken who made sure neither he nor Drista randomly dropped dead from eating raw chicken or something. But just because getting woken by him wasn’t unusual it didn’t make it any more enjoyable.

“Just a little longer,” Dream pleaded, his voice raspy with sleep as he turned around in his sheets.

“Sorry, can't do.” Dream could practically hear the shaking of his head. “The flight back goes tonight. You have to eat something before and pack up this mess.”

The mention of food made Dream sit up reluctantly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he looked back at the Manager standing next to his bed. “Food?” He got out, a just slightly amused smirk making it onto Ken’s face.

“Yes, food. You never ate dinner last night so you must be hungry.” He waited for the nod of confirmation before he continued. “I can have the chef prepare anything, breakfast food, proper lunch, whatever you're in the mood for.”

That was another benefit of being rich, he could have whatever he wanted whenever he wanted it. Almost anything anyways.

“Did my mother already eat?” Dream asked as he sat up fully, stretching his arms high over his head and starting to look around for his phone, finding it plugged in next to him on the nightstand.

“Yes, besides, she’s still in and out of meetings trying to do some much needed damage control.”

Dream only hummed, starting to climb out of bed and start looking around the floor for something to wear. “What do you want to eat then?”

The question made Dream’s movements stop, he knew what he wanted he just wasn’t sure if he was allowed to ask for it.

“I wanted to check out that Indian place,” Dream said, his voice once again smaller than he would have liked for it to be, his hands starting to fidget with the hem of the hoodie he had worn to beed as the silence stretched, Ken thinking over whether or not to allow it. “Mom said she would go with me but I’m guessing that’s out of the window now,” he eventually added.

“Fine, finish getting ready and meet me in the lobby,” Ken said, leaving the room before Dream was even able to say thank you. He sometimes felt ridiculous in situations like this. He was twenty one for crying out loud but for some reason it seemed he always needed someone else's permission for things. And if it wasn’t his mothers it was Ken’s.

He wouldn’t complain though, not if he had gotten permission for what he wanted anyways. So he finished getting ready, and although his phone wasn’t completely charged he put it in his pocket and met up with Ken in the lobby again. Bink and Bonk were of course also there and after reading off the address Gogy had sent him to the taxi driver they were off to the restaurant.

Dream would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little excited. Sure, he would have preferred it if his mother had been there and if it didn’t follow a night of absolute disaster, but ignoring all of that, he wanted to taste the food Gogy had recommended him. It would probably be the closest he would ever get to seeing anything from Gogy’s personal life but his excitement faded just in the slightest bit when he took the first step into the place.

Immediately after entering he was hit with the rich smell of spices and meat making his mouth water instantly. That wasn’t the problem though, the problem was that the first thing you were faced with after entering was a wall filled with framed pictures, framed pictures of none other than the prince of england. That made Dream’s stomach twist in ways that made him lose his appetite.

It was picture after picture of the prince with what looked like every dish they offered at this place, and to make it all worse above the pictures hung a big banner. We invite you to taste the prince's favourite curry written in cursive. Of course it would be just Dream’s luck that the one place Gogy insisted he had to try was also that stupid prince’s favourite place.

But Dream couldn’t back down now. He had already insisted on dragging Ken, Bink and Bonk out here, so as the hostess asked them how many people they were Dream reluctantly told her, letting her head them to a secluded table in the back, as per Ken’s request.

And as Dream sat down he had to admit that it was a nice place, it wasn’t all that fancy but it was well decoded and the food did smell amazing. It was already noon and as a result there weren’t that many people there but Dream could imagine how this place would be filled to the brim. Families and friends sitting around tables laughing as they shared food, maybe that’s what his mother always meant when she spoke about dinner being family bonding.

But Dream wouldn’t be doing any bonding today, it wasn’t that he disliked the company he had but he would have much preferred his mother and sister or Sapnap and Gogy over his manager and two bodyguards.

Dream ended up ordering a simple butter chicken, not because of the little note informing him that it was the prince's favourite, but rather because Gogy had told him that it was his go-to order. It was conflicting in a way, because Dream so desperately wished it wouldn’t taste good just so he wouldn’t have to admit to himself that the prince might have good taste but when the food finally came and he took the first bite of it he knew he was damned.

It was the best curry he had ever had, hands down, and he only realised how hungry he had truly been when he was already half way done with his portion.

And maybe it didn’t matter that he agreed with the prince when it came to curry, because after all it was also Gogy’s favourite dish, so Dream was agreeing with him and not actually George.

Chapter Text

Dream made sure to throw the door back into the lock. The loud sound echoing off the halls of the white house loudly as he leaned the back of his head against the closed door, taking a moment to close his eyes.

He knew that he was being petty, he knew how much it annoyed his mother when he did that, but that was the point of it after all. It was the last kind of control he felt; that little show of resistance.

But as the sound faded into the empty hall he found the satisfaction of it to be rather short lived, his eyes opening just as he let an annoyed groan leave him because he knew that in the grand scheme of things he wasn’t in control. Although he was a grown man the decisions surrounding his life were continuously made without even consulting him. And slamming a million doors shut wouldn’t change that fact.

Dream slumped into his gaming chair, the movement almost muscle memory at this point as his hand flew to the keyboard, the ringing of a call not coming long after.

It took Sapnap a couple of rings to pick up, his facecam showing the usual background as Sapnap hurried around with only a towel around his waist. “Can’t you read the time or did I mix up our agreement?” Sapnap asked as soon as he answered, hurrying out of screen to get another towel.

Usually they would agree on five pm or so to play together, but it was barely half past four now as Dream spun around in his chair to get rid of at least some nervous energy as he waited for Sapnap to appear again. He couldn't have waited with this news.

“I have something to tell you about,” Dream started saying out loud, his spinning coming to a stop as a still half naked Sapnap sat down in his gaming chair, a towel now draped over his dripping hair, Dream sure that he spotted at least some leftover shampoo in it. He must have actually interrupted him.

“Ugh, is this about Gogy again?” Sapnap asked, already starting to roll his eyes as Dream corrected him.

“No, it’s about my mother.” That made Sapnap study him for a moment. He did that often, Dream had found, whenever he tried to figure out whether the situation called for a joking or a serious response. His mind seemed to come up blank, so Dream helped him out with a little hint of what he was referring to. “About the England thing.”

That seemed to spark an association in the brunet's mind, and just a moment later a smirk made it onto his face. “About that! I actually also had to show you something.” He didn’t allow Dream a single moment to question him, instead jumping up and disappearing outside of the camera's view.

He came back much quicker this time around, holding a news paper up to the camera, it taking a moment to focus but as soon as it did Deam wished it hadn’t, it would have saved him the embarrassment of having to see that same picture of his back to the camera as George stood there dripping with champagne. His eyes were much more drawn to the head line this time around.

Son of the president takes revenge on the British?!

“The news of your little mishap even reached this dump of a village, and the front page too.” Sapnap said as he pulled back the newspaper when he was sure that Dream had read it.

“Don’t sound so proud,” Dream complained, the ever present smirk on the other's face making the blond’s heat up in embarrassment.

“Are you kidding? My best friend made it onto the front page, I’m framing this and hanging it above my bed,” Sapanp said flabbergasted, wiping away happy tears that weren't even there, and the worst part was Dream wasn’t even certain whether it was a joke or not.

“Come on now, I’ve been in the papers before, and those at least show me from the front!”

“Come on now,” Sapnap mimicked his voice, rather badly in Dream’s personal opinion, “I think your backside looks just fine.” Sapnap laughed at his own joke, Dream letting out a loud groan as he pointently turned around in his chair, facing away from the camera as he let himself pout for just a moment.

Dream heard the sound of the newspaper being folded, the rustling stopping after a moment just to be replaced by the sound of hair being dried off.

“Dreamy,” Sapnap sang out his name eventually, a clear invitation to actually start spilling what was on his mind, and after only a short moment of hesitation Dream turned around again.

“That ‘little mishap’, as you put it, could cost my mother the re-elections.” That made Sapnap’s movement stop as he stared straight back at his screen. Dream knew that he wasn’t technically allowed to tell him this, any of it, but when it came to Sapnap he had never been good at keeping secrets. “Like you said, it even reached the middle of nowhere in Texas, the whole world had seen how I embarrassed us at an international event.”

“But that won’t cost you the elections, it was an accident, and besides, I didn’t actually read the article but I’m sure they praise you somewhere in there, for sticking it to the British or something like that,” Sapnap started to assure him, already reaching for the paper again to double check it.

“That’s not the people we want voting for us, and even they make it out to have been on purpose,” Dream counterted. He hadn’t gotten to talk much with Sapnap over the last few day’s, it wasn’t like he was grounded or anything, but he had more or less chosen to spent his time hanging around in front of his mother’s office, pacing the halls and staying of both his phone and computer as he waiter for her to fix everything.

“What are you going to do then?” Sapnap asked, giving up on reading quickly. Dream swallowed down the clump in his throat, he knew he wasn’t supposed to talk about this.

“She- She and the British monarchy have decided that they want me and the prince to pretend to be friends so they can write this off as having been us just joking around,” Dream said, waiting for Sapnap’s reaction.

“That makes sense.” He shrugged, going back to drying his hair.

“Are you kidding me?! In what world does that make sense?” Dream was completely flabbergasted, but maybe Sapnap just didn’t understand him correctly. “They’ll fly me out there again and have me pretend to be besties with this guy.”

“I heard you the first time, I just think that it’s logical if you’re trying to reduce the negative consequences for both parties.” Sometimes Dream forgot that Sapnap actually had a really good understanding of not only people but also interpersonal conflict, he was sure that he got that from his firefighter father, he always knew how to keep a cool head.

“You’ve never met the prince of England before! He started this whole mess, he and his stupid humour, you want to know what he asked me? He asked me how many elephants I think that pyramid thing was tall. Like, who says stuff like that.” Dream started to become slightly defensive, he just needed someone to be on his side when it came to this.

“To be fair, that sounds like the kind of thing Gogy would say, maybe it’s a British thing,” Sapnap counterted, and Dream gave up any hope that he would get any support from Sapnap. “Besides, bad social skills are no reason to attack a guy.”

“I didn’t! He followed it up saying something about my mother-” The anger and irritation left Dream all at once, a sense of guilt almost bordering on regret overcoming him, “You know how protective I get about my mother. So I kind of pushed him and he stumbled into that glass pyramid.” Dream hung his head slightly, his mother had made sure to scold him for everything, repeating time and time again that he must have gotten his recklessness and excessive sense of pride from his father because it surely couldn’t have come from her.

“That sucks,” and for once there wasn’t any sarcasm in Sapnap’s words. It wasn’t exactly reassurance either but it was enough to offer Dream a sense of comfort. “And you'll have to pretend to be friends with him from now on?”

“Yeah, at least until the public moved on from everything. You want to know the best part?” Dream said after a moment, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice, Sapnap only hummed to get him to continue. “I didn’t get a single say in the matter, but he did. He was allowed to veto it if he found he couldn’t stand to be in my proximity but I just have to suck it up.”

“Oh man, oh man.” Sapnap sighed, leaning back in his chair. To some extent Dream understood it, his mother had explained it often enough after all, Prince George had ended up injured, even if Dream found that to be a blatant over-exaggeration, and so he should be allowed to refuse. But still, the double standard annoyed Dream to no end.

“Are you going to do anything about it?” Sapnap asked as the silence threatened to carry.

“What am I supposed to do? It’s not like I have any choice in it,” Dream complained. He didn’t want to bother Sapnap with his problems, but he knew that once he started he had problems stopping again, this time around though he was saved by the ring of a message coming through.

“Gogy’s here,” Sapnap informed him, both of them quickly switching from their private call into the voice channel where Gogy was already patiently waiting for them. Dream had completely lost track of time, it was just too easy to get carried away talking to Sapnap.

“Gogy!” Sapnap greeted loudly, a hello message following quickly, ”I’m naked! Just got out of the shower but I didn’t want to leave my little Gogy-ly waiting for me,” Sapnap sang out, Dream immediately starting to laugh as a number of confused questions flooded the chat.

Dream liked life when it was like this, when he didn’t need to worry about spoiled prince’s but would rather focus completely on the people he loved the most. “He’s such a liar, don’t believe a word he said, Gogs.”

I know better than to

“You're so stupid Dream,” Sapnap called out, his voice much more distant as rustling came through his headphones, Sapnap probably finally getting dressed.

“How was your day, Gogy?” Dream asked to fill the silence as Sapnap was out of reach.

Pretty boring
I didn’t get to sleep in which was annoying but other than that uninteresting
You?

Somehow Gogy’s life was always uninteresting, so uninteresting that he never talked about anything that happened specifically. And although Dream loved talking to Gogy about anything he always struggled to understand how much sleep he got could be more interesting than the rest of his day.

“Are you back in London?” Sapnap asked loudly as he fell back into his chair, the creaking carrying over the call. Gogy had told Sapnap that he was out of town and that that was the reason why he didn't meet up with Dream, and unlike Dream he hadn't caught the lie.

Or maybe he did, and he just pretended to believe it to keep the awkwardness out of their gaming nights, with Sapnap you never really knew what was going on inside his head. But what was for certain was that Dream had used up his reserved amount of genuine, supportive Sapnap for the day.

Yeah, came back today

“Isn't that just your luck, guess what, Dream is extending his London visit so you two might still catch each other.” There was all knowing smugness in Sapnap's voice, and Dream was sure that he knew what he was doing.

Maybe this was punishment for how often he bothered Sap with his problems, and as soon as the call became quiet again Dream felt his face heat up.

Fresh embarrassment made its way through his body. The reminder of rejection hauntingly familiar as he stared at those dots appear and disappear. He knew that he should say something, anything to make this whole thing into a joke but he couldn't bring himself to.

We’ll see about that

Came the message after a while, Dream letting go of a breath he didn’t even realise he was holding, he thinks that a straight no would have been less painful. Gogy was trying to hold up appearances, to make it less awkward for the three of them but Dream had never liked beating around the bush much, it would all be just so much easier if they didn’t have to hide behind a screen all the time.

“Yeah, maybe. I’ll probably be a bit busy, but we’ll see.” Dream accompanied it with a slight laugh, and he would have done anything to know what Sapnap was thinking when he brought up the subject.

Right

The answer from Gogy came with all the grace of a man that would do anything not to get stuck in the same room as Dream. The thought brought a bitter laugh out of Dream, one that was luckily overshadowed by Sapnap’s loud voice joining back in the conversation.

Chapter Text

The week had been a blur of sleeping and his parents consulting him about the plan of having Clay come over again and even more sleeping. The weather had been cooling down a lot lately, but today George had been awoken by a bright sliver of light that had sneaked its way into his room through the slight part of where his curtains didn’t quite touch.

He spent his entire breakfast debating whether that was a nice way to be woken up or not. His parents had been even busier lately so he wasn’t surprised when he found the dining room empty, but he did end up eating in the kitchen, on a little table in the corner while he watched the cooks hurry around each other, counting ingredients and making sure everything was in its right place.

When it was just him he preferred eating in the kitchen. It was way more comfortable than the large empty dining hall, but even the cooks seemed unable to agree on whether it was nice to wake up to sun shining right into your face or if something else wouldn’t actually be better.

In the end George decided that he would take the sun personally waking him up as a good sign, he would be getting a visitor from the sunshine state later that day after all.

George’s morning was rather uneventful, not that he expected anything else from a random friday but he had hoped for a bit more distraction from the upcoming visit.

It had been on his mind constantly, the way Dream announced he was also going to stay longer in London the moment it was decided Clay would travel over again, It didn’t line up perfectly but it was far too similar for George to discard it as a coincidence. And additionally, the way Sapnap had said it felt as if he knew something about Dream that he didn’t.

George knew that Dream and Sapnap were childhood friends, and that they had met up in the past, and between the three of them Sapnap was definitely the most open about his private life, and he always seemed to reference something when talking to Dream, something George couldn’t even dream of knowing about.

It made him feel just the slightest bit paranoid. Sapnap knowing so much about Dream made him think he could maybe find out just as much about him one day. But that was ridiculous. George knew that it was, but his thoughts kept running in circles.

So he was in all honesty glad when the meeting crept closer and closer, having someone else around would for sure take his mind off things for at least a little while, even if that person was maybe or maybe not the exact cause for his headache.

Since it wasn’t meant to be a formal event or anything along those lines his parents let him get away with re-wearing one of his standard suits. It meant that instead of having a bunch of people help him getting dressed one staff member had just laid out his suit for him. He always felt a bit silly in moments like this, but getting to do things as simple as these by himself gave him a strange feeling of achievement.

It was a navy blue suit with a light blue tie to go along with it, George finishing up buttoning the white dress shirt when there was a knock at his door.

“Can I come in honey?” His mother asked, already halfway through the door. It made George roll his eyes, but he made sure to face away so she wouldn’t see.

“Of course you can come in, mother. I don’t even know why they built doors, it just makes it take longer to go from room to room,” George said sarcastically, his mother not caring to turn away when she rolled her eyes in response.

“I just wanted to check if you still feel up to it,” she said as George finished up the buttons and moved on to grab the tie. They’ve had the same conversation endless times over the last week. His father thought the idea of sweeping everything under the rug by pretending they were friends was great while his mother was constantly worried, like always.

“It was an accident. I’m just meeting with some guy to take a few pictures for the press, there is nothing to ‘be up for’,” George argued, his mother taking the two ends of the tie right out of his hands as he struggled to tie it properly. So much for dressing himself.

“I know I know, I worry too much,” the queen said, somewhat echoing her husband's words. “But if you want to stop, you can, any time, okay?” She emphasised her statement, holding George’s gaze for just a moment as she pulled the tie tight before stepping away to look him over once before grabbing the blazer to help him get into it.

George knew that everything she did was out of love, out of worry of having to see her son suffer like she did when he was younger, but sometimes George thought it wasn’t healthy for her to cling to that time. He was 21 after all, he was a grown man but in her eyes he would probably forever stay her sick little boy.

George tried not to hold it against her, and with his father usually there to help push him towards independence it wasn’t ever a real problem anyways, just a quirk to be aware of.

“Well, if you are ready, Clay is already waiting outside,” she told him, looking him up and down a last time before starting to lead the way to the gardens.

The plan for today wasn’t that intricate, they would take some pictures of them together to announce Clay’s arrival before he would show him around the gardens and the American would move into one of the endless rooms of Buckingham palace. Tomorrow they would go to a local animal shelter to show their common interest in saving animals or something. George was already looking forward to that at least.

Even from afar George seemed able to immediately locate Caly, his hair looking much lighter in the direct sunlight as George neared the open glass doors leading out to the garden. He stood amongst some photographers and makeup people and whoever else you needed to take a picture, George really never understood why one needed that many people but he wasn’t about to question it.

“Don’t stay in the sun for too long, honey!” His mother called out just as George stepped outside. She had more important things to do than be part of this little photoshoot, and although George didn’t necessarily care about Clay’s opinion of him he couldn’t help the slight blush that crept up his face at his mother babying him right in front of the other.

His mother didn’t even spare Clay a glance as she left again, leaving George to walk up to the blond alone, taking note of the fact that he wasn’t wearing neither a tie nor a blazer, the top few buttons of his shirt also left open. It looked much more casual, much more realistic for a meet between friends.

“Wouldn’t want his majesty to get a sunburn, now would we.” The words made George realise that he had already come to a stop right in front of Clay, the familiar voice a stark contrast to that mocking emphasis. The blond even leaned down the slightest bit, just another show of how much taller he was while George felt the irritation bubble up inside him.

“It’s your highness,” George corrected, desperately trying to come up with anything good to say, “Besides, you are the one that is looking a bit red in the face,” he eventually stammered out, flicking the other’s forehead which at least seemed to do the trick of annoying him.

This guy couldn’t be Dream, George eventually decided. He was far too rude.

“Okay! Let’s get this started. If you two could just stand over there so we can get the garden as the backdrop and really use that natural light.” The photographer clapped his hands to get their attention, pointing to exactly where he wanted them.

He was a bit of an extrinsic guy but just like most of the staff George had grown up around him so he had learned to appreciate his outgoing personality. And he really did know how to snap a good picture.

George and Clay stood next to each other, the photographer adjusting some things on his camera while also instructing the people around that were in charge of the lighting and all those other things George never cared to ask that they were good for.

“Oh, Clay could you just step onto his highness's other side?” The photographer spoke up just as George thought they would get this over with.

“Is that royal protocol or just his good side?” Clay asked unimpressed, already stepping around George to go to his other side.

“It’s the side without a assassination attempt scar,” George blurted out as it was the first thing that came to his mind, a clever little quip. But as he saw the slightest bit of regret on the other's face he almost wished he had kept his mouth shut.

“Come on, it wasn’t that big of a deal, besides you can’t even see it anymore,” Clay started to stammer, stepping out of line to look at George head on, clearly looking for the faded scar. There was an audible sigh from the photographer for ruining the composition, but he didn’t say anything as Clay stood right in front of George, scanning his face.

“What are you doing?” George felt his face heat up, golden eyes scanning over every little imperfection of his face. He was used to attention, but not this kind, not so close and intense attention.

“You can barely see it,” Clay whispered out, his brows furrowed in concentration as George suddenly felt the lightest of touches on his skin.

It made him step back, almost tripping over himself as he tried to create some distance between him and the American again, his face burning impossibly hot as he wondered whether he might actually have been in the sun for too long.

It was the clearing of a throat that made them look back at the crew around them. “Can we start now?” The photographer asked, and although he was quite the joker George could tell he was starting to run out of patience for the two of them.

George didn’t trust his voice, just nodded and stood up straight again. One of the make-up ladies came over pondering some stuff onto his face, probably to make the red less obvious while one of her colleagues adjusted some things of Clay’s outfit.

“Okay, that’s good,” the photographer said as he found himself back in his element, taking a few steps back every now and again as he snapped some pictures. “You’re just two friends hanging out.” He took a short break to look over the pictures, George taking the opportunity to sneak a peek at Clay.

He looked pretty calm like this, standing a bit crooked as he looked around the gardens, the sun making his freckles just that much more noticeable. Dream mentioned before that he had freckles, that they faded the older he got but that they tend to come back when he steps in the sun for longer.

It was only when golden eyes caught him staring that George turned away again, the red making it to his face once again as he kept his eyes glued forward, ignoring the person beside him clearly looking him over now as well.

“Clay,” The photographer said, making the golden eyes leave George's side profile and allowing him to breathe the slightest sigh of relief. “Could you go into your knees a bit, the height difference is a bit jarring,” the photographer instructed, the eye roll from Clay following instantly.

“Can’t George stand up on a box or something?”

And with that any association to Dream was gone again. Dream was kind, and carrying and never minded helping out, comparing him to Clay would be insulting in George’s mind.

“It’s your highness to you,” George hissed out once again, Clay almost looking taken aback for a moment, but he recovered quickly enough as he leaned down. That annoying kind, getting on George’s level as if he were a child.

“Well, I’m not getting on my knees for you, your highness.”

George was close to falling over once again, looking away from the blond as quickly as possible as Clay just stood up to his full height again, as if nothing had happened. It just irritated George even more.

The make up lady came over once more to fix his dishevelled face, and Geoge found it increasingly difficult to put on a happy face for the picture.

“The height thing doesn’t even matter that much, let's just get this done with,” the photographer decided, getting back in position. George knew that he was sometimes a bit petty. Dream and Sapnap made sure to remind him regularly of the times he ghosted them for losing an argument or that time he refused to save their progress on a multiplayer game forcing them to keep playing with him.

And so George got on his tip toes, standing as tall as he could just so he wouldn’t look like a kid next to Clay.

He was sure that the photographer was annoyed by their shenanigans, but he didn’t say anything, just stepped closer to get a different shot. It went on like that for a bit, with different instructions being screamed at them every now and again, mostly for them to look happier.

George had never been good at keeping his balance, he lost it regularly when he had to stand around for too long without moving or when he stood up too quickly, and apparently too when he tried to stand on tiptoes.

Every now and again while taking the pictures George stumbled over slightly as he stopped himself from falling over, resulting in irritated looks from Clay and held in complaints from the crew. And maybe George should have just stood still and let the people around him do their job but he was just too petty for that, and everytime he stumbled he got right back on his tallest tip toes.

“Can you stop that?” Clay asked, irritation clear in his voice, and George couldn’t help but relish in it, in the fact he was the one losing his cool first.

“Stop what?” George asked innocently through his lashes, watching how it got under the other’s skin, but focusing on Clay made him once again lose his balance as he dropped back onto his flat feet.

“That, just stand still so we can take the picture and be done,” Clay complained, grabbing George by the shoulders to keep him on the ground.

“Don’t do that!” George tried to shrug him off, something that proved rather difficult. “You don’t get to tell me how I’m allowed to look in my pictures.” He kept going as he struggled Clay off himself, the other starting to use more force.

“These pictures are fifty per cent me so I sure as hell get a say in them,” Clay argued, George not finding it in himself to care about the people around them, starting to whisper to each other uneasily on what to do.

“That doesn’t-” George was in the middle of saying when he actually felt himself lose balance. He wasn’t sure if Clay pushed him or if he just tripped but George found himself falling right into Clay’s chest, clinging onto his shirt to try and stop himself from falling all the way while he felt the body under him tense, his own face heating up again as he felt any words get caught in his throat. They were going to need a lot more make up for this.

“What did I just say?” The loud voice of the photographer broke them out of their moment, Clay immediately pushing George off as the brunet struggled to stay upright. “Friends. Is it really so hard to not look like you want to either kill each other or start raising a family together?!” He almost screamed, and George realised he had officially lost his patience.

“Sorry,” they both said in union, each of their voices barely over a whisper. George felt like a child that was being disciplined, and he couldn’t imagine Clay feeling much different.

“I got at least some pictures, let’s just call it a day,” the man declared, the staff around nodding in agreement as he already started packing up his camera again.

“Mr. Chase, If you like I will show you to your room,” one of the managers present said. George knew him vaguely from being the guy that got stuck with all the not fun responsibilities. “Your highness can retrieve back to your room if you’d like,” he said to George.

Seemed like the planned walk through the gardens was being cut from today's plan. Probably a smart idea, George didn’t think he could manage to be around Clay for even just a second longer, so with a short goodbye to the staff he went to his room. He could just hope that Dream wasn’t busy right now.

Chapter Text

This whole friend thing was not going well. And considering he and the prince had only hung out a total of one time since his arrival back in the UK that was saying a lot. Clay just couldn’t wrap his head around George whatsoever, and it was starting to mess with him.

He barely slept at night, a combination of jetlag and his thoughts constantly going around in circles, somehow always coming back around to George and how much of a prick he was. And maybe Dream should have been happy about that, because as long as his thoughts were busy over analysing some prince they couldn’t over analyse any interaction with Gogy.

Dream and him had more or less fallen back into their normal massaging patterns, and although Gogy’s responses felt a bit distant he had at least started engaging in more generic small talk with Dream, asking about his day and what he did. And it was nice.

It was nice as long as both of them had time at least, but as the afternoon crept closer both of them had to say their goodbyes, Gogy to do god knows what and Dream had to attend to his duties as the son of an american politician, and that seemed to mean going to a animal shelter alongside the british prince.

The pictures they had taken the day before had been posted on the official royal account, announcing that Dream was back in London to hang out with his long time friend after his last visit had been cut short. When Dream had first read it he couldn’t help but roll his eyes, it sounded ridiculous. So obviously fake that Dream struggled to understand any of the people that commented anything along the lines of ‘I knew it’. But Dream didn’t spend much time on the post, he didn’t even look through all the pictures that in the end had been chosen to be the most ‘friends’ looking.

At the end of the day none of it mattered, because around three in the evening Dream found himself in the back of a car next to George as they were driven off to the animal shelter they would be visiting. A manager looking guy from George’s team sat opposite to them, Manager Ken sitting next to him while there was one bodyguard in the passenger seat by the driver.

Dream wasn’t even sure if Bink and Bonk would be joining them. He hadn’t seen them, but then again, maybe they were already there?

“Are Bink and Bonk coming?” Dream decided to ask. It wasn’t like anyone else was holding up a conversation.

“What in the world are a Bink and Bonk?” George asked, even though the question was clearly not directed at him.

“They are my bodyguards.” Dream explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and to him it honestly was. Manager Ken had stopped going through the papers he had in his lap, instead finally looking up ready to answer the question.

“You need a bodyguard?” George interrupted him however before he could even say anything. “Do they protect you from wild thanksgiving turkeys or what?” George was the only one to laugh at his own joke, it sounded almost mean, meaner than their other banter had been.

“What? Like you are in more need of a bodyguard? London is one of the safest cities.” Dream countered, and he wasn’t even what they were arguing over, but he just knew that he didn’t want George to have the last word in this.

“Maybe you're right, considering your gun laws I wouldn’t want to walk around your country alone either,” George eventually said, in that annoying kind arrogant voice. George turned away from Dream, to instead look out the blacked out windows, watching the city pass by them.

It only made Dream’s blood boil even hotter, to be dismissed like that, like their conversation was over simply because George decided it was.

“Just for your information, my mother has done a lot to pass stricter gun laws.” Dream’s voice rose by the word, in a desperate attempt to get George to look back at him again, but the other didn’t give in to the bait, instead keeping his eyes locked on the window.

Dream was ready to start screaming, but he was stopped by the loud clearing of the throat by manager Ken. “Bink and Bonk won’t be there. This is more of an informal visit and the royal family has provided a lot of security so we didn’t find it necessary to have them there as well,” Ken explained, Dream finally had the information he had wanted.

For the rest of the drive Dream made sure to ignore George just as much, keeping his eyes strictly on the city passing by. Dream hadn't cared enough to read through the schedule Ken had given him detailing the plans for today so Dream was pleasantly surprised when they drove all the way to the outskirts of London.

“Remember, you are long time friends,” Manager Ken spoke up just as the car came to a stop in front of the animal shelter. Dream almost felt like a little kid, both from being talked to like one and also from the way he was staring up at the building in front of them with awe.

It was a fairly simple house, one that Dream was sure had a giant backyard. The front was painted in a light pink with multiple animal painted on top in a way that made him assume it had been done by children. The best way he knew how to describe it was idyllic.

“Are you planning on getting out?” George interrupted Dream’s staring, and it was only then that Dream realised the both managers were also looking at him expectantly. He stammered out some incoherent words as he struggled to open the car door, jumping out of the vehicle as soon as he got it open.

George was close behind him, and as soon as the prince stepped out of the car it was like a switch had been flipped, Dream flinching as the large group of people around broke out in screams of excitement. Dream had been so fascinated by that simple building that he hadn’t even noticed the people standing on either side of metal barricades along the way leading to the entrance.

George pushed past Dream and closer to the barricades, shaking the hands that were being reached out to him like it was the most natural thing in the world. All while Dream found himself frozen in place. He had grown used to attention, being the president's son just had some side effects, but it had never been this direct.

“We should get inside, wouldn’t want to keep the animals waiting,” George’s manager spoke up, his deep British accent cutting through the air and making Dream snap out of his little trance. He felt almost relieved by the thought, taking quick steps to the front entrance where two ladies were already waiting for them.

George took a little longer in following, constantly stopping and switching sides to at least try and shake as many hands as possible. He was also handed a lot of flowers, something Dream found utterly ridiculous but who was he to complain.

The flowers were handed off to the manager before George finally joined Dream and the two women waiting.

“It’s an honour to have you visit us again, your highness,” The older of the two women said with a curtsey, and what Dream assumed to be her granddaughter following her example.

“The pleasure is all mine,” George assured smoothly, and Dream was starting to regret not having read up on this place, considering how familiar the other seemed with it.

“You remember my granddaughter, Amilia,” she continued, George shaking the young woman's hand, and almost to Dream's surprise she also held out her hand to him.

“It’s nice to host one of the prince’s friends as well for a change.” Amilia smiled politely as they shook hands, Dream agreeing, finding the feeling of being out of place far too distracting to come up with anything smart to say.

“How about we go inside and introduce you to the kittens.” The older lady finally acknowledged him, having to look up from the way she was hunched over, and once again all Dream remembered was how to nod.

The inside was just as nicely decorated as the outside, a lot of children's drawings were hung up on the wall as well as a mix between family portraits and class pictures. Dream found it hard to recognize the people between the framed memories, the age of the people jumping around with seemingly no order.

The two women lead them to a large almost living room feeling part of the house. There were various mismatched pieces of furniture providing comfortable seating options.

Although most of them were already occupied by the sea of cats in the room.

As Dream looked around he also found the photographer from yesterday. There wasn't such a big setup like the day before, instead it was just the photographer and his camera as well as one other guy for the lighting.

“How about we get the pictures out of the way first,” the photographer suggested, and considering the fiasco from the day before Dream found that to be a good idea.

“How about you hold up a cat for the picture!” the old woman suggested excitedly, picking up the first kitten she could grab, sticking out to the two of them.

Dream was quick to grab it from her. “We wouldn't want his highness to get his hands dirty, now would we.” George rolled his eyes but didn't protest.

It was a fairly young gray kitten with white stripes and she was completely calm in his arms. In a way it reminded him of the day he had gotten Patches, she had been so small back then.

This time around the pictures were done much quicker. Probably had to do with the photographer wanting to get it done before George and Dream started fighting again.

As soon as the pictures were done George went off, probably to do his royal duties and talk to the workers while Dream was left standing with a kitten in his arm.

Back in the states he had been forced to numerous events too, but those had felt different, more formal, more planned out.

And maybe it was just because Dream went into this completely underprepared, but the casual vibe he got from all of this was throwing him off slightly. It was like George had been here a thousand times before.

“I never thought that you two were such good friends.” Dream's thoughts were suddenly interrupted as Amilia appeared beside him.

“Oh! Why not?” Dream asked as he adjusted his hold on the cat in his arms.

“I don't know, I just never read about it. It was a real surprise when this visit was scheduled for the two of you, usually it's just his royal highness.”

Dream nodded along, not finding it in himself to look her in the eyes. It wasn't like he was actively lying to her but it was still weird to think of himself as a ‘good friend’ of the prince. But it got him thinking a bit, did George come here often? Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that that should be something he should know, supposedly being a close friend and all, but his curiosity got the better of him.

“Does h- does George come here often?” Dream decided to ask. Surely he was allowed to call the prince just by his first name, maybe he should have read up on royal protocol after all.

“Oh! Umm,” Amila seemed slightly stunned by the question, Dream finally deciding to let the kitten go that had become a bit restless in his hold, slowly placing her back on the ground before putting his full attention back on the young woman. “I mean, often enough. The prince isn’t big on public appearances, and considering that he has come to visit us quite often.”

She explained, Dream’s brows frowning slightly. That was at least something he had picked up on, George only ever joined his parents in public when it was absolutely necessary, or where it would be considered rude no to. Like that wedding that happened a few months back, or the king's birthday celebrations.

But he never went out for casual appearances. Except when it meant coming to this place it seems.

“The kids from the local school sometimes come over to take part in workshops regarding animals and how to properly treat them. They are the ones that decorated the place,” she continued explaining, laughing lightly at the memory before continuing. “One of these classes somehow ended up wanting to meet the prince, to introduce him to all the cute kittens and together they wrote up a letter to ask for him to come visit.”

“The kids?” Dream asked, having to physically stop himself from immediately picking up the next cat that had started to rub against his leg. But he was truly interested in the story being told to him.

“Yeah, they did it all themselves, well I sent off the letter but that's besides the point. To be honest I didn’t have much hope for the prince to actually receive it, let alone read it. But he did and not two weeks later he came over and let the class introduce him to all the animals,” she finished explaining.

Dream wouldn’t have guessed that in a hundred years. George always seemed so closed off, not like a guy that would leave his castle just to entertain some school kids. Let alone when it meant getting cat fur all over himself.

Dream let his eyes wander over the room, scanning the place for the prince when they stopped on familiar brown hair. There he was, sitting on the ground with cats climbing all over him. He had a soft expression on his face, like he was able to turn off his brain for just a moment and enjoy himself fully. It was like when they had taken the pictures the day before, the sun hitting his face just in the right way and making his skin look like it was glowing.

He hadn’t expected the prince to have a side like this, one that wasn’t so prim and proper and fixated on the rules and the formal way of addressing him. Dream couldn’t help the thought of Gogy passing his mind, even if it was just for a second he remembered Gogy telling him about his love of cats. He was sure that Gogy would look just like that if he was placed in a pile of kittens, so careful and gentle in the way he held them.

“Amilia, can you just help me get these under control again?” The older lady’s voice broke Dream from his thoughts, and as he looked over he found her standing in between what looked like a brewing cat fight.

“Already on it, Gran,” Amilia answered, flashing a last smile at Dream before going over to help out her grandmother. Dream decided to walk over to George, sitting down opposite to him with his legs crossed.

The action seemed to pull George out of whatever training though he was having, big brown eyes looking up to meet Dream’s.

“You can’t just claim all cats for yourself, this is supposed to be a shared visit,” Dream complained lightly, snatching one of the cats climbing over the prince's lap and starting to pet it.

“It’s not my fault they like me better, they probably know to stay away from you unless they want to be turned american,” George shot back, and Dream noticed how much better his mood seemed now, almost carefree.

“That’s not how it works.” Dream rolled his eyes, but he knew it wasn’t the best comeback. Silence stretched over them for a bit, the two of them just sitting on the floor getting cat fur all over their suits. But neither of them cared, and another of them mentioned the fact that they were probably supposed to be somewhere else doing something productive.

“You know, I actually have a cat back home. Her name is Patches.” Dream eventually broke the silence, George looking back up at him.

“I knew that, read it somewhere. Didn’t she break a really expensive vase or something?” George asked, an amused smirk on his face. And Dream wasn’t able to suppress his eye roll.

“Wanna know a secret?” Dream whispered, leaning forward, George doing the same to hear him. “It was actually my sister that broke it, we were playing hide and seek and she just kind of bumped into it.”

“And you blamed it on the cat?!” George drew back with an almost offended sounding gasp. “Poor Patches, she will forever be known for that, you know? The cat that broke the white house.”

“Come on now, she didn’t break the white house, besides it’s better for people to think it was the cat and not my sister,” Dream argued, some of the cats starting to climb on him now as well.

It was surprisingly easy to talk to George when it was like this, when it seemed like it was just the two of them. Although Dream was uneasily aware of the multiple pairs of eyes on them, it seemed as if George was better at ignoring them.

“Patches was actually also a rescue, like these guys.” Dream picked up one of the cats to inspect closer, holding it up to his face. This one looked somewhat similar to Patches, but it had a few bald spots that made him wonder about its past.

“Because she's a rescue we don't actually know her age, or her birthday for that matter.” Dream continued, George petting the same grey cat Dream had held earlier. “We adopted her on Valentine's day, so we made that her birthday.” He finished.

George also paused his petting, looking back up to meet Dream's eyes and if he didn't know better Dream would have almost spotted recognition behind those big brown eyes.

“I knew that,” George said,almost whispering it, and Dream just rolled his eyes.

“How would you know that? I've never told that to the papers.” Or anyone outside of his close friends and family for that matter. He wasn't even sure why, but Patches’s birthday was something he held close to his heart.

So there was no way the prince of England of all people would know about it.

“I did hear that before, are you-” George started questioning him before he was promptly interrupted.

“Are you ready to move on in the program? We still have a few room to see and a interview.” George's manager asked them, Dream already getting up while George looked the slightest bit panicked in the way he was looking between his manager and Dream.

“Are you coming?”

“Yes, yes.”

Dream didn't think he would ever be able to wrap his head around what kind of person George really was. In one moment he is arrogant and stuck up, in the next he is nice just to become weird again.

George got up from the ground and dusted himself off, at least he tried to as a lot of fur was still stuck on his suit. But in that regard they were in the same boat, Dream deciding that he didn't care enough to try and get it off.

They followed the rest of the people out of the cat-filled living room and down the hall. Their managers were talking about what they would be doing next but Dream didn't find it in himself to listen. If he did he wouldn't feel so unprepared all of the goddamn time, but at the same time his thoughts were circling back to why George was acting so strange.

It was a loud sound that made his thoughts stop, even if it was for just a moment, as the loud sound of a shot echoed through the hall.

As his thoughts started up again they came back a thousand times louder. Dream felt his heart start pounding and as chaos broke out around him his blood ran cold.

He stumbled backwards until he was pushed against another body, around him people started running, someone grabbed at him but Dream couldn't make out anything around himself anymore, his eyes going unfocused as he tried to get away.

Dream grabbed at the first thing he could, pushing a door open and not caring about the second body he pushed through.

As George was basically shoved into the closest door he was ready to complain, but as he stumbled to the ground of the storage closet his complaint was replaced by a grunt.

Clay wasn't far behind, falling to the ground next to him as the door fell loudly back into it's lock.

“What the-” George said as he got to his feet again, but he was cut of by loud breathing, by uneven breathing.

Clay was hunched over, leaning against the wall as he struggled to regulate his breathing.

It made George freeze over, standing there in the dark and only barely being able to make out the silhouette of the other, of Dream.

He remembered the night Dream told him about his cat, it had been just the two of them in a call that was already bleeding into the morning of the next day. The story of how they blamed her for something his sister had done.

It could have been a coincidence, surely there was more than one cat that had been adopted on valentines day and got blamed for mishaps, but this wasn't a coincidence. Without seeing him, without any peering eyes on them George could recognize Dream by his breathing alone.

He had gotten so familiar with it over the years, from endless sleep calls he knew his quiet snoring. From endless gamenights he knew how he held his breath when he had to concentrate, and from those few stressful nights during exam season he knew how he sounded having a panic attack.

George felt suddenly overwhelmed, outside of their little storage closet he could hear people running and shouting, the bang had sent both the animals and people into a panic, and in the middle of it all was Dream, Clay, the son of the American president having a panic attack.

But even with all the chaos going on, there was one thing George knew how to do, which was how to ground Dream.

“You need to breath, D-” George cut himself off as he crouched down by Dream’s side, taking a hold of his shoulders and gently getting him to turn around, his back pressing into the wall as George made out the tears streaming down his face, the bit off light coming through the slit of the door reflecting off them. “Please, breathe with me.”

George started breathing loudly, evenly, always making sure to hold his bread for a few minutes before breathing out again. It took a while, but eventually Dream started following suit, his breathing slowly steading.

“You're safe,” George assured, continuously speaking reassurances to the other until he saw Dream's eyes flutter open again.

“Where are Bink and Bonk?” Dream breathed out, his voice a bit hoarse from crying.

“I don't-” George cut himself off, he couldn't risk overwhelming Dream again. “They're safe too, they'll probably be here soon,” George assured softly, starting to gently pet Dream's knee as he found a more comfortable position to sit in.

“Sorry,” Dream forced out, “Sorry about-”

“You don't have to apologise, it's okay to be scared.” George insisted as he cut off the blond. The other looking back at him with wide eyes, it made George wonder if he actually thought he had to apologise for getting startled.

“Do you know what it was?” Dream asked after a moment, somehow managing to make himself appear even smaller.

“I don't, but they must have already dealt with it,” George said as he moved to stand up again.

He was stopped however by a hand grabbing onto his wrist. It tugged on him until he sat back down besides Dream, and even then he didn't let go.

“Don't go out there,” Dream whispered, and George wasn't sure if it was because he was scared of something happening to him or simply because he didn't want to be alone.

But the only thing George could focus on how obvious it was now that it truly was his Dream, his best friend. The voice, the stories from his childhood and the always hiding his identity. George had been so blind.

“Thank you,” Dream's whisper was almost lost because of how distracted George was, but he barely caught it, squeezing the other hand as he didn't trust his voice to speak.

They stayed like that until someone came knocking on the door. They explained that it hadn't been a gunshot but rather some teenageres setting off firecrackers nearby. Dream and George didn't talk about what happened, not about the panic attack nor about Dream asking him to stay. Dream had been just handed off to Bink and Bonk to be brought back safely while George drove back in a different car with his own security.

That night George had trouble falling asleep, his thoughts constantly circling back to Dream, leaving him turning unrested in bed.

Chapter Text

He wasn’t sure if it was because of the unfamiliar surroundings or the exhaustion of the day or if it was just simple jet lag but Dream couldn’t find it in himself to stay still for long enough to fall asleep. The moon was unnaturally bright tonight, being able to illuminate the room enough to make it difficult to fall asleep even with the curtains fully closed. Dream would have expected a literal palece to have better curtains than that, but apparently not.

The room was very similar to the guest rooms in the white house, just with that added british monarchy flair. But even with the bed being incredibly soft and comfortable Dream felt himself constantly tossing and turning, always trying to find a comfortable enough position to fall asleep but never quite finding it.

He had already tried contacting Gogy to try and kill some time, but considering it was the middle of the night he wasn’t exactly surprised when the other cut their conversation short, something similar could be said about Sapnap. Although the reason for the rushed goodbye from Sap was that he still had school work to do.

In the end Dream just gave up, deciding that a glass of water would hopefully help and so he picked up his phone from the bedside table and turned on his flash light as he made his way out of his room. His bare feet connecting with the cold floor made him shiver slightly, but not enough to make him start looking for a pair of socks in the caos that was his open suitcase on the floor. He would just need to hurry a little.

When Dream had been shown the room he would be staying in, the guy had also informed him of the community kitchen that could be found in every wing of the castle. It was fully stocked up and if he ever got hungry he was freely allowed to go there and get himself something.

Alternatively he was also told that he could always ask a member of staff to have the chef make him something but Dream had already decided as soon as he heard it that he wouldn’t be taking advantage of that service. Besides, he just wanted to get himself a glass of water.

The halls were a lot more ominous in the dark, the paintings hung on the wall looking almost haunted in the dark as the only light source was Dream’s phone, it made him walk just the slightest bit faster.

Eventually he reached his destination, the little tea kitchen a lot more modern in comparison with the rest of the building. It was made out of a fairly standard kitchen, a kitchen island and on the other side of the room there was a couch as well as a coffee table and TV. Dream illuminated the room with his flashlight as he went over to the frig, not caring enough to turn on the actual light since he would be leaving soon anyways.

He opened up the fridge just to be met with various foods, most of them convenience foods that he would just need to plop into the microwave, but he wasn’t in the mood for anything so instead he pulled out one of the water bottles and closed the fridge once more. Dream found a glass in one of the cupboards and went to sit down on the couch.

It was as if only now his body realised that he should be tired, the need to lay down and sleep hitting him all at once as soon as he sunk into the soft cootions of the sofa. He forced himself to pour himself a glass of water anyways, drowning it in one sip before turning off the flashlight. The slight hum of the fridge provided a consistent rhythm for him to synchronise his breaths before he slowly felt his eyes slip closed, sleep finally coming to him.

The creaking of old hinges that made Dream stir awake once more. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed but as he sat up whipping the sleep from his eyes he was started by a scream. His head whipped around to find George leaning against the door frame with a hand over his chest as he seemed to calm down from the fright.

“What the hell are you doing here?!” The brunet choked out, reaching out his hand to feel around the wall until he found the lightswitch, the lamp over the kitchen counter turning on and illuminating the room enough for them to see each other. “And why are you just sitting around in the dark like this?”

“I was told I could get anything from this kitchen that I might need,” Dream explained as George closed the door he had come in through quietly.

“That doesn’t explain why you are sitting in the dark like some kind of vampire,” George continued, leaning against the kitchen island while Dream turned around in his seat to face him better.

“I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to get myself a glass of water and just kind of feel asleep here,” Dream explained, stretching out his arms slightly as he felt his muscles untense, this hadn’t been the best position to fall asleep in. “What about you?”

Dream hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk to George since the whole thing at the animal shelter. Dream’s mother had been understandably worried about his well being as well as George’s mother basically locking George into his room until things had settled down a bit more. It had put their whole pretend friendship on halt for a few day’s.

On top of that Dream hadn’t been sure of how to approach George once they ultimately would see each other again. The prince had helped him through a whole panic attack and he wasn’t exactly sure if he wanted to bring that fack up or just pretend like it had never happened. Especially because Dream had had the feeling that their fake friendship had almost been going well.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” George said, continuing to lean against the counter, looking almost as if he had something else on his mind.

“Did you need something?” Dream asked carefully, unsure of the correlation between George not being able to sleep and standing in the community kitchen in the wing that all the guest rooms were in.

“I wanted to get some sweets. I finished mine but I know that they keep the guest kitchen stocked up,” George explained.

“Help yourself,” Dream told him, turning around in his seat again. The light coming from behind reflected in the turned off TV screen, allowing Dream to watch the silhouette of George move around as the other went to the cupboards, opening up a few looking for the thing he was here for. Dream couldn’t help but watch.

George had such a distinctive body language, something that he hadn’t really allowed himself to notice before now. But the Brit always seemed to have his posture in mind, his back staying straight even as he bent over to check one of the lower cupboards, apparently finally finding what he was looking for because he stood back up straight, turning around.

Their eyes met through the reflection on the screen, Dream feeling his face heat up because George most definitely caught him staring. The blond averted his eyes quickly to the bottle standing on the coffee table. The condensation that had formed after Dream took out the cold bottle from the refrigerator had dripped all the way down, forming a puddle around the bottle.

Dream poured himself another glass of water just so his hands had something to do while George walked around the sofa, sitting down on the other side.

They sat in silence like that for a few minutes, the only sounds filling the air between them being the rustling of the plastic wrappers of the sweets George ate and the quiet sips Dream took from his no room temperature water.

“Are they any good?” Dream eventually heard himself asking, the silence starting to become the slightest bit unbearable. George took a moment to understand what he was referencing, but eventually he pleased the packet of sweets in the middle of the table, as if to offer him some.

“They’re okay,” he said, Dream reaching out to grab one, curiosity getting the better of him. His father had always forbidden him from eating anything sugary before bedtime, he always said it would prevent him from sleeping, but in the dead of night on another continent Dream decided to make an exception.

“You are eating so many that you run the risk of running out before one of your one hundred servants can keep up with stocking them up. They must be better than just ‘okay’,” Dream argued, making air quotes as he looked at the treats suspiciously. George rolled his eyes at him.

“First of all, I don’t have one hundred servants, that’s not a thing anymore, I have well paid staff that keep things up and running, and secondly,” George said, interrupting himself just shortly to unpack another one and placing it into his mouth, “I don’t eat them because I necessarily like them.”

“Why would you eat them then?” Dream continued asking, unwrapping the little sweet. It was heart candy, the kind he remembered getting at the doctors after a visit or in hotels at the resepton. But he remembered those always being red or orange or yellow, the one he was looking at now was an unnatural shade of light purple.

“They’re lavender flavoured, my mother always used to give them to me when I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know if they actually work or not but I never really outgrew it,” George explained, shrinking into himself the slightest bit as he spoke as if embarrassed.

The lavender at least explained the colour. Dream plopped the thing into his mouth without another thought, the taste hitting him almost instantly. “That’s disgusting,” he coughed out, immediately reaching for his glass of water as he tried to eat the thing as quickly as possible. That proved to be rather difficult as it was a hard candy, eventually he was able to bite it in half, swallowing two far too large pieces that he choked on.

It took a lot of coughing before he finally calmed down again, George just laughing at his misery as Dream tried to get the taste out of his mouth with even more water. “Why would you ever voluntarily eat something like that?”

“It doesn’t need to taste good, it just needs to work.” George explained once he stopped laughing, his voice high pitched as if he was mimicking what his mother had told him.

“Considering you aren’t asleep, it obviously doesn’t work,” Dream argued, whipping the last drops of water off the corner of his mouth.

“They aren't sleep drops, you idiot, they just provide a gentle way to fall into a relaxing sleep,” George explained, this time with an overly pronounced accent. Dream just rolled his eyes, leaning back into the couch, the light coming from behind allowing him to see his own reflection on the screen as well.

His hair was incredibly dishevelled, and even as he tried to fix it it just sprung back into its original state. He gave up trying to make it look good quickly, his eyes instead drifting to look at George’s reflection instead, finding the other’s eyes already on him.

This time nighter of them made the effort to look away, their eyes meeting in the reflection every now and again as they took in each other's forms. George had pulled up his legs onto the couch, hugging them to his chest. And as they sat there something George had said circled back to the forefront of Dream’s mind.

“Your mother used to give you this hell-made candy when you couldn’t sleep?” Dream asked, turning to look at George straight on, the Brit doing the same as he rested his head on his knees.

“Ever since I can remember, yeah,” Gorge confirmed.

“Did you used to have problems falling asleep often?” The question made something unfamiliar cross George’s expression, as if a memory he didn’t want to think about. But Dream wasn’t given enough time to really study it as George averted his gaze again, operating to look at the table instead.

“You could say that,” he said, the air between them feeling strangely still.

And maybe Dream should just take the hint and drop the subject, clearly having hit some kind of nerve. But he was far too curious for that. Over the last days he had realised how little he actually knew about George, it started with not knowing that he liked visiting the animal shelter, but even beyond that he knew basically nothing about him personally, only that he was an only child and the heir to the british throne.

“My insomnia used to be a lot worse when I was younger, I kind of grew out of it but sometimes on nights like these I have it again,” George eventually spoke up, as if understanding that Dream wanted to know more.

“Has that something to do with why you never attended royal events?” Dream asked carefully, watching as George let his eyes fall shut for a few moments.

“Kind of, it’s a combination of it all, my insomnia, my bad health, my mothers paranoia,” George listed off. “My doctors always told me that I would grow out of it, that I would hit a growth spurt and I would be able to fall asleep quicker, that I would be able to run as fast as my cousins without feeling out of breath. That never really happened though.”

“Is that why you’re so damn short?” Dream asked with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. But George just nodded, not getting offended like Dream would have expected or trying to argue that he was average height or even just rolling his eyes.

“It kind of is, I’ve been failing at basic human functions since the moment I was born.” George said before Dream had a chance to take back his joke, the blond was completely taken aback by the sheer amount of bitterness in the other’s voice, as if he really thought of himself as a failure because he wasn’t as tall as he could have been.

“I didn’t mean it like that, George,” Dream hurried out as soon as he found his voice again, his instinct being to reach out, to touch Gorge to apologise but something stopped him from reaching out his hand.

“But it’s the truth,” George insisted, finally looking Dream in the eye again and the blond felt almost breathless as he found brown eyes glittering behind unshed tears. “I don’t have any siblings, I will be king someday and it will be my responsibility to uphold tradition. How the fuck will I do that if I still need sweets to fall asleep, when I can’t stand in the sun for too long.”

It was like Dream was watching a dam break, the tears starting to run down George’s face with no intention of stopping. But while Dream expected loud sobbing to accompany the tears he found nothing, besides the vocational strangled breath George was completely quiet.

“You know, my parents met at university,” George started, and as Dream hummed for him to continued it wasn’t as much about his own curiosity anymore but rather to give George a opportunity to get it out of his system, something about the way George was curling into himself telling Dream he didn’t get to talk about this often.

“They met at university, my mother helped out in the university library and that’s how they started talking. They got married a few years later but what they didn’t know until then was that my mother had fertility issues. It took them ages but eventually she managed to get pregnant.” George only interrupted himself to whipe some of the tears away, although it didn’t make much of a difference as more just kept coming.

“It was really hard on her physically, she was incredibly sick and couldn’t attend any public events for most of the pregnancy. It got so bad that she had to be brought into the emergency room a good three weeks before I was due. They ended up having to do an emergency c-section.” This time around Dream didn’t stop himself from reaching out, getting a hold of George’s hand and just holding it, and George didn’t stop him, instead he leaned back against the couch again, turning to look at Dream again.

“They weren’t sure if either of us were going to make it, but my mother was able to get better after two weeks at the hospital, it took me a little longer. The first few weeks of my life I was attached to a bunch of machines making sure that I stayed alive for long enough to finish developing. It was three weeks after my birth that I was healthy enough for my parents to hold me for the first time.”

George paused, a new wave of tears streaming down his face as he shut his eyes tight. His hand clutching Dream’s, as if he needed it to ground himself.

“They didn’t let me keep my birthday,” he eventually choked out.

“What does that mean?” Dream asked, utterly confused at the implication.

“It was only when I was well enough to not need to be connected to a machine that they announced my mother had gone into labour. And a few hours later my parents stepped out in front of the hospital to announce that after an uncomplicated delivery they had given birth to a healthy baby boy. On the twenty-third of november.” George finished, Dream feeling his mouth fall slightly open at the revelation of it all, unable to find any words for it.

“I know that my parents love me,” George added, “My mother never fails to remind me that me being alive is a miracle, but I also know that they would have wished to have more children. I see it in my fathers eyes when I can’t join him for events. He always says that it’s fine but I know that he is disappointed.” George choked on another round of sobs, letting go of Dream’s hand in favour of whipping his face.

There was far too much going on in Dream’s head, far too many thoughts to focus on just one, and so he didn’t catch himself quickly enough to stop his hand from moving, from reaching out to cup George’s check and whip away at least some of the tears. It made George’s breathing stop for just a moment, his eyes wide as he stared right back at Dream and suddenly the blond felt the need to say something, anything to bring the attention away from himself.

“When’s your birthday then?” He stammered out the first thought that came to mind. Seemingly pulling George out of whatever though he had been having.

“Um,” George started, shaking his head slightly as he leaned back, out of reach from Dream’s touch. “The first,” he declared just as Dream let his hand drop again. “The first of November.”

That made Dream’s brows frown slightly, his hand already reaching for his phone. As he turned it on he was blinded by his lock screen of Patches blinding him slightly. And in the left corner it read; 0:23 am, November 1.

“You are twenty five as of twenty three minutes now,” Dream announced, turning around his phone to George who just looked at it with no kind of enthusiasm.

“I won't get to celebrate it for another twenty three days anyways,” he just said, going back to staring at the table before him. The tears had stopped by now, leaving George looking almost emotionless, it made something deep within him hurt. So much so that Dream jumped up from his place on the sofa and rushed over to the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

Dream ignored the question as he looked through the cupboard and fridge once more, eventually also opening the freezer. In there he found an unopened package of ice cream cones. It wasn’t perfect but he pulled them out anyway, going on to look for some kind of candle.

Unsurprisingly they didn’t carry birthday candles in this kitchen, but Dream was able to find some tea lights as well as a lighter. George hadn’t made any other effort to find out what he was doing but Dream still hurried. He ripped open the cardboard packaging to take out one of the ice cream cones and unpack that as well before taking the tea light and striking it to the top of the ice cream.

It was a bit crooked, and definitely not as pretty as a birthday cake, but it got the job done. Dream finished it off by lighting the tea light before walking back over to where George was sitting on the couch. He had been once again staring into space with unfocused eyes, but as Dream came closer he looked up, the light from the candle reflecting in his eyes, making those few specks of gold in them that much more apparent.

“I know it isn’t a lot, especially coming from me, but, happy birthday, George,” Dream said, George sitting up a little straighter as he took the ice cream from Dream, their fingers brushing slightly.

Dream sat down closer to George this time around, like this being able to really make out with how light of a touch George held the cone in his hands.

“You have to make a wish.” He nudged him slightly, the slightest of smiles making it onto the other's face.

Dream watched as George closed his eyes, really thinking about it before he opened them up again and blew out the candle, and Dream couldn’t help his own smile, feeling strangely proud.

“Thank you,” George said, turning to face Dream again, their faces ending up much closer than either of them had expected, but they didn’t move away. Brown eyes looked over his face, almost studying him, looking deep in thought.

“I hope my dream comes true,” George eventually whispered out, something only meant for the two of them to hear.

“I’m sure it will.”

Chapter Text

It felt like something in their relationship had shifted. Like they had actually become friends. But maybe it was also just George’s imagination playing tricks on him, now that he knew that Clay was in fact Dream he couldn’t help but notice all the similarities.

In a way he found himself attributing certain things Dream said or did to Clay, and vice versa. It made interacting with the other somewhat strange, challenging, because George wasn’t ready to let the other know about who he was yet.

A silent vibration of his phone pulled George out of his thoughts. He was sitting next to Clay in the back seats of the car, Clay’s manager in the passenger seat as they were on their way to have an interview. Clay would be flying back home soon and so his mother had requested for them to have one last public appearance, one where they could confirm their friendship one last time.

Clay was sitting somewhat turned away from George, looking out of the window on his side with his phone in hand, looking almost impatient as he bounced his leg. George just ignored it as he pulled out his own phone from his pocket, a smile forming on his face as he realised the reason for Clay’s anxiety.

You didn’t answer my good morning text :(

It was true, between getting up and having his mother all up in his face about what he was going to wear to the interview George had kind of forgotten to answer that last message. Dream sent him good morning messages from time to time, more so now that he was in the same time zone. Usually they talked more later in the day or in the middle of the night so George was more consistent with answering good night texts.

Sowwy :(
I got distracted and forgot

George send back, his eyes immediately shifting over to look for Dream’s reaction. It was pretty much instant, Dream’s expression softening the ever slightest bit as he held his phone in both hands. It made George’s heart flutter a bit, getting to see Dream react to him, it was something he had wished for often over the years.

He had never voiced that wish to the other of course, he was sure that if he had ever asked Dream to turn on his camera he would have been set on having George do the same, and that wasn’t something George had been ready for, nor was he now.

“What are you staring at?” Dream’s voice broke George from his thoughts, his face burning hot as he realised he had been caught. And just to make it worse Dream had that self satisfied smirk plastered on his face.

“Nothing!” George got out, looking at anything but Dream, racing his brain for any kind of excuse. “I was just trying to look out the window, but your giant head was in the way.”

“Well, you have your own window, look out of that,” Dream insisted playfully.

George huffed, crossing his arms and feeling weirdly like a kid throwing a tantrum, but he had gotten this far so there was not going back now.

“I can look out of whatever window I wish to.” George argued, making sure to keep the joking less apparent in his tone.

“Not if I don’t let you!”

Before George had time to question the statement Dream turned in his seat and flung out his arms around him to block the view of the window. It was enough to pull a laugh out of George, Dream’s manager throwing a glance over his shoulder to see what was going on but going back to his laptop quickly enough.

“See? There is no way I’m letting you look out of my window.” Dream said, clearly proud of making George laugh. George recovered from it quickly enough however, looking back up at Dream, feeling the slightest bit lightheaded from laughing.

“I’ll just have to go back to looking at you then.”

“Huh?” Dream’s grin turned into an almost stunned expression instantly, his arms falling slightly as he just stared back at George with wide eyes, George who turned away instantly as his face burned up once again, this time much worse than before.

He didn’t know how he let that slip, he didn’t know why he would even think about that but he couldn’t come up with a way to make it less awkward, and the longer it took to come up with something sarcastic to say to play it off as a joke the longer the silence stretched, until eventually Dream just went back to his phone. George just continued to stare at his own knees, keeping as still as possible as if that would help his situation.

Even as he felt a new message come through he stayed still, he couldn’t bring himself to continue a conversation with Dream over text after he had just been so stupid, even if Dream didn’t know that it was him.

They arrived eventually, Dream’s manager getting out of the car first before opening the door for the both of them. “Here we are.” He announced, holding out a hand for George that the prince ignored as he climbed out of the car. He had pretty quickly realised that Dream’s manager was just as unschooled in how to behave around the royal family so George chose not to think anything of it, he just tried not to flinch as the flashing of cameras started.

It was by far the thing he hated most about public appearances, the lights always made his vision blurry and the constant clicking sounds gave him a headache, but alas, wherever he went paparazzi were quick to follow. He tried to put on his usual smile but even he could feel it was a bit flat today. He stood there for a bit, waving shyly to the people who had gathered on either side of the entrance to the TV studio they would be having the interview in.

He found it honestly ridiculous that people were waiting for him, that they just showed up to see him pass and be gone again, but it wasn’t his job to question things, he was meant to smile and wave, and so he did.

At least he did until he felt a warm hand on his lower back pushing him forward just the slightest bit, Dream climbing out of the car now as well and with how close he was George could practically feel the warmth radiating from the other’s entire body. It made him jump away further, his face heating up once again as the hand on his back lost its contact.

“Ready to go?” Dream asked, mostly ignoring the paparazzi, not even giving them a single wave or the opportunity of a proper picture. “You shouldn’t stay in the sun for too long after all, I can already see you turn a little red,” Dream followed up as George struggled to answer, the hand appearing on his upper back this time as Dream took the initiative to lead them into the building.

The clicking and lights only stopped once the automatic doors closed behind them, and only then did Dream’s hand slid off his back again. It was a TV studio as any other, George had had the misfortune of having been here before on multiple occasions and by the way Dream didn’t seem impressed by the large lobby of the building he assumed he had had his fair share of TV appearances as well.

“Oh! What a pleasure it is to host the two of you!” A lady in her late forties came up to them, all too excited to shake each of their hands as well as give Dream’s manager a kiss on each cheek. “You’re just on time, so let's get moving.”

She started leading them, first into an elevator and then down long halls before they set foot into the set. It was a large room with all the spotlights directed at a stage on top of which were two couches, the perfect set for an interview to take place. Around the stage were a lot of people hurrying along making sure the light was right, the cameras were pointing where they were meant to and all in all it was just as unpleasant as George remembered it being.

They weren’t given much time to take everything in however as a member of the makeup department hurried them into separate chairs so they could be fixed up for the cameras. Since he was little George had hated the feeling of anything on his face, and maybe that came from the fact that he used to need a lot of makeup to cover up his at times sickly looking complexion. But even now when it was just some powder he hated it.

Dream looked much more relaxed in the seat next to him, his leg was bouncing again but George suspected that to be caused by something else. Soon enough they were sitting on the lager of the two couches, opposite to them a woman in her mid thirties took a seat.

“If you two are ready to go I think we can go ahead and start,” she said, her accent very pronounced and George wondered for a moment where he might have heard her voice before.

“Is this going to be live?” Dream asked just then.

“No.” George was quick to answer, the reporter looking between them for a moment before following up Geores answer.

“The royal family asked to look over this interview before we air it, so we will just be recording.” Dream gave her a nod. “Okay, if there is nothing else-”

“Actually,” The lady from before interrupted her colleague from beside one of the cameras, “Could we have the prince and his friend scoot a little closer together?” The reporter gave them a little hand signal to have them go through with the request, Dream being quick to follow.

George on the other hand only moved closer somewhat reluctantly. He wasn’t sure if it had been exactly what the others had meant because like this they ended up with their knees just short of touching one another. And every time Dream shifters around in his seat they would bump into each other. It made George’s face heat up just the slightest bit, but he forced himself to stay composed as the reporter started the interview.

The first few were easy enough, how they had met and why they never publicly showed their friendship before. Questions they both had been briefed on beforehand by their respective management.

They had first met at a sporting event in the United States and been in contact ever since and because George is such a privat person they just never thought of announcing it in any way. All in all the questions were easy, and there was no doubt in George’s mind that it had been his parents who had to come up with them.

But even with how staged it all was and how well prepared George was he still found himself at a loss for words occasionally. And maybe it was because of the distraction of Dream sitting so close to him or because of the bright lights shining down on them causing him a headache but it was mostly Dream carrying the conversation.

He had much more charisma when talking than George ever had and he was much more spontaneous in the false details he sprinkled in to make their pretend friendship just that more believable.

“Maybe another question for the prince,” The reporter suddenly spoke, pulling George out of whatever train of thought he may have had, pulling his attention back onto the task at hand as he most definitely had stayed quiet for too long. “You have only been to the United States a handful of times, is there any place you would like Clay to show you some day in particular?”

The question caught him off guard, it hadn’t been one he had been prepared for, and from the way the reporter hadn’t read it off her note cards it didn’t seem like a pre planned one either. And really it shouldn't have been a problem except for the fact that it was a question with no right answer, he could literally say anything.

Any location, any museum, any national park would have been fine, but just the sheer amount of possible answers made it somehow so difficult to think of just a single one.

“You know, anything could be fun really,” George hurried out as he felt the silence stretch out for too long once again.

“Anything in particular? I mean, since Clay has been in the UK for quite some time and you have gotten to show him around a bit I’m sure you two have discussed the possibility of you returning the favour and visiting the United States in the near future.” She didn’t allow him to dodge the question, and George couldn't help but look over at Dream for some kind of help.

But as he was met with an awaiting stare he wished he hadn’t looked over at all. Even worse was that looking past Dream he caught sight of the entire crew, of the people in charge of the camaras, the ones checking the sound and the rest all looking at him expectantly, it made his face heat up as he suddenly felt short of breath.

“I’d like to see the white house,” He blurted out the first thing that came to mind, and as he saw the reporter open her mouth he forced himself to follow it up. What would be something fun to do in America? “Or the swamps down in Florida, D- Clay tells me they have boats to go around in and that one can see all kinds of animals, I think that would be fun.”

Dreams head snapped to look over at him in an instant, the surprise on his face was clear. “When I was little and we still lived in Florida we used to go on those boat tours all the time.” Dream said, and George wasn’t sure if he was telling the reporter or him.

And the mention of that made George remember, Dream used to tell him about that, on a call while the sun was already starting to rise again after they stayed up way to long talking, Dream would always reminiscent about that time, how his father always used to take him out to look for alligators and about that one time his little sister accidentally dropped her stuffed animal in the swamp and their father almost fell in trying to get it back.

The surprise on Dream’s face turned to confusion as he opened his mouth to say something more, but Geoge was quick to cut him off. “Could we take a break?” His voice was far too loud, causing him to cringe slightly as he watched the reporter look taken aback.

But of course his wish was granted, the director somewhere to the side calling for a quick break for them to freshen up and as soon as the words were uttered George jumped up to find the nearest bathroom.

He was relieved when he found it completely empty, immediately going over to the sink and washing his face with cold water, watching all the make up go down the drain.

He really needed to pull himself together, he had been struggling to keep Clay and Dream spread in his head, and if he were to go on like this he would surely get figured out by the other. And he wasn’t ready for that conversation jet.

George didn’t waste too much time in the bathroom, instead going back out to the set and sitting down at the stiling table once again, one of the make-up lady's coming over quickly and getting started on reapplying his make up once again. He felt sorry for having washed it all off in his panic, but he didn’t find it in himself to say anything, instead he let his eyes wander over the room.

Unsurprisingly they got caught by a specific blond.

Dream was leaning against the wall with his phone pulled out and that same impatiens look on his face. It made Geore reach for his own phone, and sure enough he found a new message waiting for him.

You do that a lot
Getting distracted that is

Seeing those familiar letters on his phone made a sense of calmness wash over him. The woman was still powdering stuff onto his face but it was easy enough to ignore as George typed out a simple response.

Sowwy :(

He looked up just in time to catch Dream’s reaction, the way a small smile broke out over his face at seeing the message pop up before rolling his eyes at the contents.

Stop saying that and finally tell me if you’re having a nice morning or not

Dream sent back quickly, George grieving having to look away from him to actually read the message.

My day is going fine, how about u?

George’s eyes snapped back up as soon as the message was sent, desperately awaiting the reaction. He wasn’t sure why, but there was something addicting about getting to simply just see Dream. He had grown so used to just hearing him or reading his messages but getting to see behind the curtains like this was proving to be very fun.

It’s been okay, a little hectic but still fine

George could see how Dream hesitated this time around, typing and deleting his follow up massage time and time again. He looked lost in thought with his browser pulled together in concentration. It made his leg bounce impatiently until a new message lit up his phone screen.

I’ve been thinking about you all day

It was George’s turn to smile like an idiot. The Lady doing his makeup had wandered off again some time ago and it left George free to giggle under his breath as he re-read the message again. His face felt slightly warm as he looked back up at Dream, but as soon as he found the other already staring at him he felt his smile drop as he snapped his eyes to look back down at his phone.

Had he been too obvious?

“And what were you smiling about?” As soon as he heard Dream’s voice he locked his phone screen again, holding it up to his chest like he had been caught in something, and maybe he had been.

“Nothing!” He insisted, but the sly smirk on the others face made it clear that he wasn’t believed.

“Come on, you weren’t smiling like that about nothing. Spill it.” Dream came up behind him, placing both hands on George’s shoulders as he held eye contact through the reflection in the mirror.

“I’m telling you, it was nothing.” He kept fighting it, finding himself unable to keep eye contact, however, averting his gaze. Dream still didn’t seem convinced though, promptly spinning George around in the chair.

It made him the slightest bit dizzy, but as his eyes focused again he found Dream leaning forward. Both his hands were on the armrests on either side of George, effectively caging him in. It left minimal space between the two, bringing back that slightly dizzy feeling but this time for completely different reasons.

“Come on now, George, tell me what you’re hiding.” Dream whispered out in a low voice, only for the two of them to hear, and George hoped the freshly applied makeup would hide at least some of the blush creeping up his face.

“It wasn’t anything.” George tried once again but even he could admit that it didn’t sound at all convincing.

There was a short pause, one in which Dream looked down at the phone George was still holding closely to his chest before he broke out in a grin.

“You have a secret girlfriend, don’t you?” And from all the things George was expecting to hear, that wasn’t one of them. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about that! I know a love struck boy when I see one.” Dream stood back up, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked far too proud of himself. “You don’t have to hide her from me, we're friends after all, come on, at least show me a picture.”

“Stop it, I don't have a girlfriend.” George felt an ugly feeling rise inside of him. He wasn’t sure why Dream suggesting something like that made him so uncomfortable, but there was just something so disheartening about that being the first thing Dream’s mind jumped to.

“Don't pretend now, just one picture and I'll drop it.” Dream tried to bargain, but George was only growing more and more irritated.

“I told you to drop it.”

“And I told you to show me a picture, just admit it George-”

“Stop it!” And once again George’s voice was far too loud, and once again he felt like the world had gone quiet around him as all heads turned towards him. Dream looked genuinely taken aback and before he had a chance of saying anything George jumped up from his seat and called for the interview to start up again. At least like that he didn’t need to think about why the suggestion of having a girlfriend made his skin crawl.

He could feel how the people around him became more formal, a bit more careful in how they addressed him, and as much as he wanted to hate it he found it much easier to make it through the rest of the interview like this.

It was only when they were already in the car back home when George finally remembered why that reporter had seemed so familiar, she was the host of that cooking show his mother used to watch so much. He only hoped he hadn’t spoiled her opinion of the royal family completely.

Chapter Text

“That was so unfair! You two were ganging up on me!” Dream screamed at his PC, the death screen of his character taunting him.

“What are you talking about? We would never do something like that.” Sapnap’s voice rang through his head set with a smile so clear in his voice Dream had trouble staying mad at him.

Just admit that you are bad

The message from Gogy didn’t take long to appear, only causing Dream to roll his eyes as he finally gave into the smile taking over his face.

“You’re all so stupid.” He laughed out as he watched his avatar jump around spawn, his friends endless blocks away.

You’re a bad loser

Gogy countered.

“You cheated, so you didn’t actually win. And with no winner there is no loser which means I’m still on top,” Dream declared triumphant. They had a little tearlist going on, every time they had one of these gaming sessions they would document who won, who lost and who fell more or less in the middle.

The only problem with that system was that they all had access to it, meaning it got messed with quite regularly. Just as now, when Dream saw the updated picture of it being sent through by Sapnap.

It put Dream in third place with -1 wins, George in second with 23 and Sapnap in first with 105. At the beginning it had been a legit thing, the only purpose being to keep track of their record, but that purpose had long been replaced.

“You can’t just put yourself ahead like that! It doesn’t even make sense.” Dream was quick to complain, Gogy not far to follow.

I did most of the work right now!
I deserve first place!! >:(

“No you don't.” Sapnap countered. “I had the last hit so I’m the one that won.”

“But how can I have negative wins?” Dream argued, already updating the chart to put himself in first.

“You were so bad your former wins are no longer recognized.” He explained, sounding far too proud of himself.

“I think we should team up against you, Sap. What do you think, Gogy?” Dream said as he sent through the new chart. Himself in first place with 44 wins, Gogy in second with 43 and Sapnap in dead last with -2.

He only got an unpleasant huff as a response as they waited for Gogy to respond.

“Gogy? Are you still there?” Dream asked after a while of no new message coming through and after a while the typing bubble reappeared.

Sorry
I have to get going now
It’s pretty late over here

He sent, both Dream and Sapnap making a somewhat disappointed noise. Dream had been back in the white house for a good two weeks now, and they had catched up on a lot of gaming that they had missed out on while Dream had been stuck in the UK but of course they couldn’t just fool around forever.

“It is pretty late for us too, so I’ll guess we’ll talk tomorrow?” Sapnap was the first to speak up, the sound of his chair squeaking coming through the call.

Something like that

Gogy agreed before Dream also bit them good night for now. After the call disconnected Dream took a moment to stretch out his arms above his head, his muscles much more tense then he had realised. He had basically spent the entire day at his PC and so Dream decided to shut it off and move to lay down on his bed instead.

His hand reached for his phone before he had a mind to stop himself. He turned onto his stomach as he just started as his home screen for a moment. There wasn’t necessarily anything that was catching his attention, he didn’t feel like going on social media and he hadn’t been into any particular shows recently so he was just left swiping between his options.

Until he clicked onto his emails. When Dream left the UK those few weeks ago George had been a bit more formal than usual, at least he had been at the airport saying goodbye. But Dream hadn’t thought much about it, George wasn’t used to so many social interactions at once so Dream just assumed that he was tired from all the time they had spent together.

Afterwards Dream had felt awkward though. He knew that they weren’t actually friends and that it was just something to make up for their stupid mistake but after getting to know George so well, and seeing him in his arguably most vulnerable state it just felt weird to go back to being strangers.

So Dream had gotten a hold of George’s personal email and sent him a few short ones just to keep in touch. And it had been a lot nicer that Dream had expected.

George was even more formal in written form than in any interaction they had had in person, as if he was being very careful with every word he chose, but Dream tried not to overthink it. It was a bit strange at the beginning, especially since George takes quite a while to answer him but talking to him was pleasant.

Dream got to talk about his mother's preparations for her campaign, he got to vent about school and all those other things he couldn't bring up to his other friends. Well, technically he could, he talked to Sapnap about this stuff too, but he always felt bad venting to Sap when he knew that the other disliked most every type of political talk, and when it came to Gogy, well.

That was somehow more difficult. He could talk about everything with Gogy, his fears, his hopes and dreams, but never his actual present life.

And so having George as a kind of middle ground was much nicer than he could have ever expected. He could talk about politics and his personal life without the worry of saying too much. And George also talked about the same stuff, unlike Gogy he didn’t cut off a conversation when it started swaying towards personal stuff.

But Dream didn’t want to compare the two of them in his head. Instead he chose to focus on the open email in front of him, a blank canvas for him to write anything he wanted. He was on the first lines of asking how the other had been doing when a knock at his door cut off his thoughts.

“Come in!” He called out although it almost didn’t matter as the door flew open before he could even finish saying it, the blond not having to look over to know that it was Drista.

“I made muffins, do you want one?” She asked, Dream's eyes looking on his screen as he held out a hand.

“Sure.”

“Well if you want one you have to come downstairs and get one,” She said and before Dream had a chance to complain about it she was gone again. He sighed and put his phone away as he got up. It wasn’t like he had anything he actually wanted to tell George anyways.

He made his way down to the kitchen, finding his mother in the process of putting another batch of muffins in the oven while his sister was most definitely in the process of burning her tongue on the ones that had just freshly come out of the oven.

“Ow! These are hot!” She complained as she dropped the chocolate muffin onto the table.

“You don’t say,” Dream said, rolling his eyes as he took one for himself, promptly dropping it upon realising just how hot they actually are.

“You don’t say,” His sister mocked, going back to trying and eating the muffin, Dream just sitting down.

“I told you to let them cool off first.” Their mother scolded them lightly as she joined them at the table. “Besides, you said they were for Jenny.”

“They are!” Drista quickly clarified in the middle of a bite. “Most of them at least.” She added quietly before setting down the muffin again and turning to Dream again. “Jenny got in an accident and I’m going to bring them over to her to make her feel better.” The bright smile on her face as she spoke in no way reflected the seriousness of her statement, Dream looking over to his mother in confused worry.

“A minor accident.” His mother clarified. Dream nodded as he watched his sister try to take another bite of the muffin without touching it. “And what about you, Clay? Have you already started planning for the party?”

“What party?” Dream asked, now also giving his muffin another try as he carefully pulled the wrapper down from the sides.

“The new years party, or have you and Nick finally grown out of that?” She said, the smile on her face showing clearly that she clearly knew they had in fact not grown out of that.

Since moving into the white house Dream and Sapnap had insisted on getting to plan the new years party, the decorations, the guest list, it was all up to them and considering it was already the end of November they really needed to get started on the preparations.

“We need to get started on that.” Dream agreed as he already started to think things over in his head. The guest list was more or less the same every year, some politicians, some celebrities and some normal friends but the theme was where it got interesting. Every year they decided on a new theme with new decorations they needed to buy.

“I get to invite Jenny again, right?” Drista asked, now moving onto her second muffin.

“Like always, but you have to stay up in your room for most of it.” Their mother reminded her of the agreement they had, but the topic of guests made Dream think of one more person he would like to invite this year.

“Can I invite George?” Dream almost blurted out, his mother seeming to take a moment to remember who he was talking about.

“The prince? I don’t know if his family would be thrilled about the idea but otherwise of course.” A far too excited smile broke out over Dream’s face, one that his sister felt she couldn’t leave uncommented.

“Since when are you such a royal fan boy?” She asked with an almost suspicious expression on her face. “You know the friendship thing is fake, right? Wouldn’t want you getting your heart broken for thinking it was anything real.” She said supportive as ever, Dream just rolling his eyes at her.

“I know it is, but it would be weird not to invite my supposed best friend to this epic party.” It was more than that too though, the fact that he just would really like George to be there, but he wasn’t about to voice that thought in front of his sister of all people.

“He is more than welcome here,” His mother once again clarified, going to stand up to check on the oven.

Dream finished two more muffins before going back to his room, like an excited kid bringing the news that his mom said yes to a sleepover. He wasn’t fully sure why, but since he knew Gogy would never want to come he was happy that George just might.

So he opened back up that email and started from scratch, formally inviting George to his new years party at the white house.

Chapter Text

George felt severely out of place, arriving in the US had already been strange, it being the first international trip he was on without either of his parents, but even outside of that there was a kind of strangeness about this particular trip. And maybe it was just the guilt of lying to Dream so much getting to him, but he couldn’t help but feel nervous as he looked up at the white house.

They had arrived a good minute ago, the chauffeur parking close to the entrance so George wouldn’t be exposed to the cool December air, but for some reason George hadn’t been able to force himself to move yet, his eyes fixated on the entrance lying beyond the car window.

He was only pulled out of his staring when the car door suddenly opened, his chauffeur sleeping out of the way for him to get out. George took the hint, climbing out of the car although he had wished for just a little more time to mentally prepare for what was to come.

The door was closed behind him before the man went to start unloading the prince’s luggage, while another man opened the main entrance, welcoming George in. He took a last deep breath of the winter air before making his way to the entrance, the cold having started nipping at his nose and ears and so the warm air meeting him was surprisingly pleasant.

The was a faint smell of cookies mixed with the smell of bubble wrap, and just as George was about to question that combination, a middle aged woman in the middle of a phone call bumped into him, the box she was carrying practically overflowing with packing peanuts. As she collided with him quite a few of them spilled over onto the floor.

“Oh! Sorry honey, make sure to mind your step,” she told him absentmindedly in some kind of distinctive accent that George still couldn’t name before she continued on, going back to her conversation on the phone.

George tried to brush off the interaction, stepping deeper into the room, and as he looked around he realised the place was in the middle of getting decorated. Empty boxes were scattered all around as well as piles and piles of wrapping materials. It was quite the sight, but George couldn’t help but smile, it was a lot nicer to see the decoration actually taking place. At his place it always felt like decorations appeared overnight, like with most things the staff at Buckingham castle was practically invisible.

George looked around a bit more, he wasn’t sure if he had been meant to wait for anyone to show him around but he had already wandered off so he just kept walking, occasionally side stepping people rushing around him to avoid another collision. It was when he found himself walking into a very large room that his eyes finally landed on familiar blond hair.

Dream was standing next to a shorter brunet, seemingly in a deep discussion about something, but George didn’t feel like finding out what exactly, so he just interrupted them.

“Clay!” He said, a lot more excitement making it into his voice than he had intended for. Either way, it got the job done of pulling the attention onto him as both Dream and his friend spinned around on their heels.

“George!” Dream screamed out, not holding back while showing his excitement. “I didn’t expect you to come so early, so please excuse the mess.”

“If we had done things my way we would have been done two weeks ago, just saying,” Dream’s friend spoke up, George’s eyes snapping over to him, meeting his greyish eyes just as the realisation passed through his mind, this was Sapnap.

“Oh! Right, George, this is Nick, my best friend since forever. And Nick, this is George, the Prince of England.” Dream introduced them.

“Your highness,” Sapnap addressed him with a nod, holding out his hand, George cringing just the slightest bit hearing the title from Sapnap of all people, but he still shook his hand.

“George is just fine,” he assured, already turning back to Dream when a rather loud scream cut him off.

“Is that him?! Is that the prince?”

A girl, who couldn’t have been older than sixteen came running over, pushing herself in between Dream and Sapnap before coming to an abrupt halt right in front of George, her friend not far behind.

“It’s nice to meet you, your highness,” the blond girl said, taking the hem of her skirt into her hands as she curtsied.

It wasn’t hard to guess that she was Dream’s younger sister, she had the same blond hair and green eyes. Besides her, her friend also hurried to curtsey, only grabbing the hem of her dress with one hand as the other was in a cast, silly drawings and signatures scattered all over it.

“Come on you two, don’t overwhelm the poor guy.” Dream rolled his eyes at the two girls as they stood up straight again.

“Easy for you to say, we’ve never met a real prince,” she complained, her friend agreeing with her.

“Could you sign my cast?” The red head friend suddenly spoke up, holding out a pen to George, the brunet trying to suppress the uncomfortable feeling of being put on the spot.

“I’m not allowed to give out my signature, but I can draw something,” he laughed out nervously, taking the pen and drawing a little smiley face in a spot where there was still enough space. He was aware of the fact that he had never been good with new people, but her excited smile upon seeing the doodle made some of the anxiety in his body lessen again.

“Okay, that was enough chit chat, go back to making cookies or whatever you were up to,” Drema cut their meeting short, starting to push the two girls back in the direction they had come from.

“The first batch is already done if you want some,” the blond one called over her shoulder as they left.

“I’m not saying no to that,” Sapnap was quick to run after them, leaving Dream and George to stand alone while people around them continued to hurry from one place to another. Dream gave him a kind of questioning look, as if to ask if he wanted to also enjoy the cookie party, but George just shook his head, he had kind of hoped to have a moment alone with Dream.

“Was the blond one your sister?” He asked, starting to walk again slowly just so he had an excuse to look around.

“Yeah, Drista.”

“She looks a lot like you, is also a blatant copy of your mother.” George looked over at Dream as he heard a chuckle come from the blond. “It’s true!”

“I know it is! Still strange to think about though, she used to be a little goblin and now she is almost a young woman. At least she isn’t too old for cookies yet.”

“No one is ‘too old for cookies'.” George rolled his eyes.

“You don't have siblings, you don't get it. Someday they just grow out of something that used to mean so much to them and there is nothing you can do but watch,” Dream said, a kind of reminiscing expression taking over his face, it made George wonder about all the things Dream has seen his sister grow out of.

It also made him think about what Dream might have left behind in his youth. A part of George felt sad at the reminder that he was an only child, he never got to grow up besides someone else, getting to see them grow up like Dream had.

“Hey,” Dream broke him from his own thoughts, his voice soft as his hand came up to rest on George’s shoulder lightly. “I know you aren’t used to parties like this, but I’m really happy you came today anyways.” The smile on his face was genuine, contagious in a way. “If it gets too much you’re free to go back to your room at any time, or you can come find me and we can ditch the whole thing.”

It was a reassuring promise, although George knew he would never make Dream ditch a party he was clearly looking forward to.

“I think I’ll have fun,” George decided to assure him.

The silence that hung between them was practically begging to be filled but for some reason neither of them could come up with anything more to say, and eventually Dream was called over to give his opinion on something and so George went to find his room to get situated.

He cursed himself a little for only having flown over today, because as he fell back into the sheets of the bed he would be sleeping in for the next week or so, he realised how tired he actually was. The twelve hour flight had left him restless, and the jet lag was already starting to mess with his appetite.

Maybe he should have gotten here a week early so he could have gotten used to the time difference before, but then again, this wouldn’t be the first time he had pulled an all-nighter.

In the end George had stayed up in his room until the party was set to start, taking a short nap before starting to worry that the outfit he had planned wasn’t good enough. His mother had helped him pack, and she had insisted on him wearing a suit since it would be an official visit, more or less at least. But as he had thought more and more about what he had actually agreed to, he realised Dream and Sapnap would probably be dressed much more casually.

Eventually George gave up, overthinking this wouldn’t help with his building nerves, so he just put on the suit before going downstairs to find Dream once more. The halls of the white house had a very different feel to them then the ones George was used to, the architecture and decorations very so distinctly different from Buckingham Palace. It was nice in a way, to have a change of scenery.

As George passed the entrance for the second time that day he realised that they had actually managed to finish the decorations before the guest started arriving, the theme finally becoming recognisably; Champagne party.

The decorations around the room were all gold, clear plastic ornaments copying the look of the carbonated beverage, and along the walls there were buffet tables with at least one champagne pyramid on each. The memory of his and Dream’s first time meeting in person came over him, his feet carrying him over to one of these tables as he chuckled at how silly he had been back then.

“Yo! George, looking good tonight!” Sapnap said as he appeared seemingly out of nowhere, throwing an arm over his shoulder, George very clearly picked up on the smell of alcohol in his breath.

“Are you even old enough to drink?” George asked as he pushed the other off again, his eyes catching on the other's outfit just long enough to confirm his earlier assumption. The shorter had gone with a casual look, wearing some ripped jeans and a graphic T. In no way did it look bad, but it was definitely a different vibe from the suit that George was wearing.

“Why would you care about drinking ages? The English start drinking right out the womb.” He rolled his eyes at the prince, and as George was already starting to correct him Dream joined them.

“Ready for tonight?” He asked them, George scanning his outfit over once as well, finding that he and Sapnap seemed to have similar tastes when it came to fashion. Dream was dressed in cargo pants and a similar looking T as Sapnap, overall having the same vibe, and it didn’t help with the underlying feeling of being out of place that George had been trying to ignore.

“Really went all out with the theme,” George complimented, the bright grin on Dream’s face managing to shake at least some of his nerves.

“You like it?” He asked excitedly, as if George’s approval was the most important thing at this given moment.

“I do, as long as we don't end up covered in champagne with glass all around us.”

“Don’t worry, these are out of plastic.” Dream assured, giving the pyramid in front them a slight tap in demonstration.

If the whole event would have just been that, the three of them making stupid jokes and hanging out, maybe it would have been okay. He would have never wanted to leave the US ever again, but sadly that wasn’t what the night had in store, and he was rather abruptly reminded of that when Dream was called over to the main entrance, the first guests were arriving.

“You know, D- I mean Clay, Clay is worried about you not having fun,” Sapnap spoke up as Dream disappeared around a corner. “If you don’t know what’s going on just stick with me, okay?”

George felt a genuine smile come over him, he never talks to Sapnap about serious stuff, not really at least, but maybe he should. He got out a quiet thank you before the lights around them were turned off, a disco ball hanging from the scaling becoming the main light source. Some generic pop song started to play from the endless speakers around as the room slowly started to fill up.

“Come on, let’s get you something to drink,” Sapnap called out, the excitement clear in his voice as he grabbed George by the arm and pulled him towards the bar at the end of the room. And although George wasn’t much of a drinker, or a party person in general, he thought that maybe things would be okay.

George stuck close to Sapnap for most of the night, Dream was a bit more social, roaming freely through the entire space and dancing with whoever he came across. If George had gotten any say in it he would have liked to spend more time with Dream, but he understood why dream was all over the place, it was his party, and his job to keep everyone entertained.

George had ended up having a lot more than just that first drink, he didn’t particularly like the taste but the way champain fizzed when he swallowed was almost addicting and by the fourth drink he had completely forgotten about his earlier tiredness. He felt wide awake as he lost track of time completely.

Eventually Dream came over once again, “It’s almost midnight!” He screamed over the music that had been blasting for the entire night, and George needed all his concentration to keep Dream in focus, his eyes having gotten blurry from both the alcohol and constant flashing lights.

“Is it already?” He asked back, Dream leaning closer to hear him, one hand coming up to hold George by the arm as he clearly had trouble understanding him over the music. The touch sent an electric spark through his body, Dream’s hand somehow feeling cold compared to his own skin.

“Yeah, almost, there is going to be a countdown at 59,” Dream explained, “Have you already found someone for your New Year's kiss?”

Dream then continued, the confusion that George felt at the statement providing the slightest bit of sobriety as he realised just how cramped he felt between all the bodies round.

Dream seemed to have caught on his confusion as he was quick to explain. “When the clock strikes midnight you need to kiss someone.”

“I don’t know anyone here!” George said, still confused, a slight uncomfortable feeling rising in his gut at the thought.

“Doesn’t matter, can be anyone, just go find a girl-” Dream was interrupted as a loud cheer erupted in the room, at the very back wall there was a large TV screen that was now showing a one minute countdown. “I have to go, promise you’ll find a nice girl.” Dream got out before hurrying off again, George’s body feeling like it was burning up now that Dream’s hand was gone. And as he looked around he realised that he had lost track of Sapnap.

He started wandering around a bit aimless, suddenly much more aware of every body that bumped into him. But no matter how often he felt he was running in a circle he wasn’t able to find Sapnap, and then the actual countdown started.

Dream had gotten a microphone from somewhere and had climbed up onto a stage in front of the TV. The music was cut as Dream counter along the numbers on the screen, the crowd joining in as the single digest passed. And just for a moment, as George stood amongst the ground looking up at Dream with his hair a mess and his cheeks red he felt like the world around him had gone completely quiet.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1

And suddenly it was as if everything hit him at once, the smell of alcohol mixing with the sweat of everyone around, the loud cheers as the clock hit midnight, the bodies around him starting to jump up and down, but worst off all was as George stood completely still, unable to move as Dream pulled a girl from the crowd onto the stage and gave her a kiss.

He didn’t know why but suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. And it didn’t get better as he watched Dream jump off the stage and make his way through the room, random girls throwing themselves at him as he passed, as if that was what the night had actually been leading up to. The chance to snatch a kiss from Clay Chase himself.

George couldn’t bring himself to keep watching, with every kiss Dream handed out as if it was nothing he felt his stomach get more and more upset. He forced his eyes away from Dream and started pushing through the crowd. It didn’t matter to him where he was going, he just needed to get away.

And eventually he managed to make it out of the body of people, keeping walking forward until he got a hold of a door handle, pushing the door open and feeling every hair on his body stand up when he was met with the cold breeze of the night. But he could still hear the music, so he walked out of the white house and into the large gardens surrounding it, walking until the busyness of the party was nothing more than a quiet buzz in the distance.

George eventually came to a stop under a tree, the branches covered in snow and as a particularly strong breeze passed some of the snow fell onto George’s hair, but he didn’t mind it. He almost appreciated the cold slowly seeping into his bones.

He hadn’t noticed the tears running down his face until he heard quiet footsteps making their way through the snow covered lawn, George quickly whipped his face into his sleeve before he felt a familiar presens come up behind him.

“Did the alcohol finally get the better of you?” He heard that normally a comforting chuckle accompanied Dream’s words, but where it usually would have made him feel warm it just made a sharp pain appear in George’s chest.

“I just needed a breath of fresh air,” George explained, keeping his back turned to Dream as he brought his arms up to hug himself. A futile attempt to protect himself from the cold around him.

“It was getting kind of hot in there,” Dream agreed, laughing along in a way George was starting to associate with him being tipsy. There was something about the reminder of the party that made George’s brows frown.

“Do you ever-” He started off but promptly cut himself off again, taking a moment to breathe as he shrunk into himself further. “Do you ever wish you were normal? That you were just another random person on the internet and nothing more?”

“What?” Dream sounded confused, but once again it was accompanied by that drunken laugh, a sound George was starting to despise. “I don’t think you are making any sense right now, George.”

“You just don’t get it!” George snapped, turning to face Dream as he felt fresh tears run down his cheeks. The sight of George seemed to cause Dream to sober up instantly, his drunken smile changing into a worried expression within a second.

“George?! What’s wrong, what is going on?” He asked, stepping closer as his eyes roamed over the shorter’s features. George could see a million questions in those golden eyes, but as he tried to form even just a single thought to come up with an answer he found that his throat had gone dry.

There were no words he could have used to describe any of the emotions mixing in his gut, so instead he just stepped forward, closing the space between them. It was short, one could have barely called it a kiss. George didn’t have time to try and guess what the last drink Dream had he could have been, he didn’t have time to decide whether Dream’s lips were soft or rough against his own but he had enough time to feel how warm they were.

And standing out in the cold at midnight he would have wished for nothing more than to get to warm up just a little longer, but his wish wasn’t granted as two hands came up to his shoulders and pushed him away just as their lips had connected.

George stumbled back a few steps from the force of it, his back hitting the tree they stood under and causing some snow to once again land on top of his curls, causing a cold shudder to run down his body.

The tears were now flowing down his face as he looked back up at Dream. The same Dream that had just let any one of those random girls get a kiss but had pushed him off immediately, it made a completely new kind of feeling overwhelm him.

George had been rejected before in his life, by kids who were too intimidated by his title to try and be friends with him, by his parents when he had asked for things he knew he wasn’t allowed to have but none of those rejections had felt quite as painful as the one had experienced just now.

Dream’s eyes were wide, his skin looking just the tiniest bit paler, and all George could think of to interpret it was disgust. He didn’t want to hear Dream reject him, feeling it had been enough, he didn’t think he could bear hearing it from the voice he had fallen in love with over the last few years too, so before Dream could open his mouth and say something George took off back in the direction of the house.

This time around welcoming the loud noise as it helped drown out the call of his name.

Chapter Text

When Dream woke up the first thing he noticed was the pounding headache. At first it was just a light buzz, but the longer he laid there, coming back to consciousness the more his head started to actively hurt. It wasn’t until he turned over to his side and drank the gas of water that had been left on his nightstand that he started to remember the prior night.

It was only coming back to him in chunks, but he remembered the party, the countdown and the way Drista had walked him up to his room. And the kiss, of course.

The memory of that caused a completely different kind of pain to shoot through his body as he suddenly felt the need to get up, to go find George. Even just to confirm that it hadn’t been a dream.

His movements were strained as he climbed out of bed, his clothes feeling gross against his skin as he stumbled out of the room without even taking a look at himself. He didn’t have time for that, instead he just hurried down the hall as fast as his body would allow him to, his vision blurry at times as he definitely felt the consequences of his former selves drinking choices.

He was already halfway down the hall when he bumped into his sister as she walked out of her own room. She was still in pajamas, but the empty plates she was holding signalled that it was already past lunch time.

"You look like shit,” she informed him kindly as Dream leaned against the wall for some support, his hands coming up to his hair to try and fix it up just a little bit.

"Wait til you’re twenty one and you’ll look the same,” Dream said off handedly, holding in a smile at his sisters disgusted face before continuing his search for George, he didn’t get far however.

"If you’re looking for Nick, he left about two horses ago,” his sister called after him, making Dream’s movements halt in an instance.

"Why’s that? Why didn’t he wake me?” Dream asked, spinning around on his heels, regretting it instantly as the world around him continued to spin for a good second after.

"He tried to, you were out cold,” Drista just shrugged. "He just said that something came up and he needed to get back to Texas.” The answer only helped to confuse Dream even more, what could have come up that Sapnap would have just left like that?

Drista didn’t seem to have anything else to say about it as she turned and walked away in the opposite direction, presumably to put away the dirty dishes she was caring for. And as Dream stood there a minute longer a new concern hit him, was George even still here?

His steps had a much more urgent feel to them this time around as he hurried to where the guest rooms were. Last night had gone less than ideal between him and George, Dream had to admit that, but still he had hoped George would at least wait until today to hear him out.

Then again, did Dream even have anything to say for himself?

He pushed the memory of last night out of his head for the time being, at least until he turned into the correct hall and, to his dismay, found cleaning staff there.

"Did the prince leave already?” He asked one of them there, already dreading the answer before it was even voiced.

"The last of the guests left about an hour ago,” the lady informed him, and Dream cursed under his breath before leaving them to do their job in peace again. He felt rather aimless as he walked the halls, finding the stairs and letting his feet carry him through the far too big house blindly.

It was already noon, he realised as he passed through the entry hall, and most of the mess of last night had been cleaned up again. If it hadn’t been for the last few gold decorations dream might have convinced himself that last night hadn’t happened at all.

To think that just a few hours earlier this place had been full of life, that he had two of his best friends here with him celebrating the new year just to wake up on the first alone. Another spike of pain shot through his head, he really shouldn't have drunk that much, maybe then he wouldn’t have fumbled things with George so badly.

"Clay,” It was that distinctly disappointed sound of his mothers voice that broke Dream from his thoughts, and looking up he found his mother fully dressed in a pantsuit, a complete contrast to how he was still in the same jeans and shirt from the night before, walking around in mismatched socks. "You know I’m not the biggest fan of your party tradition, so please at least clean yourself up a bit before coming out here.”

His mother looked him up and down, and Dream felt the shame rise inside of him. He knew that usually she wasn’t like this, so her current up-tightness was clearly the result of something going on politically. So he tried not to take her judging stare personally.

"Robert doesn’t seem to have taken a break over the holidays, he has launched a whole new campaign plan and I need to deal with that,” She told him, proving his former assumption right. "Go get cleaned up, Clay.”

And with that she was gone, leaving Dream once again alone with his own thoughts. But the longer he stood still the more aware he became of how gross he felt, parts of his clothes were sticky from spilled drinks and the smell of sweat and alcohol was still lingering on him, so he went back to his room and followed his mothers advice. He took a shower before throwing on a fresh shirt and sweatpants and climbing back into bed, hoping to sleep away his ever growing headache.

The next time he woke up it was because of the fleeting rays of sunshine shining right at his face. As he stirred awake he noticed that he had slept away most of the afternoon, being greeted by the setting sun shining in through his windows.

Dream stretched out his arms over his head, growing at the stiffness of his back before walking over to sit down at his computer, turning it on for the first time in the new year. He hadn’t truly allowed himself to think about what had happened the night before, he knew that he would end up spiralling if he did, so he called the one person in the world that knew him better than anyone else, Sapnap answering the discord call after just a single ring.

"So you didn’t die in your sleep, I was starting to get worried,” Sapnap said as soon as he answered the call, sounding a lot fitter than Dream currently. The shower and extra sleep had definitely made his hangover go away but he still felt slightly nauseous, so he had decided to keep his camara off, Sapnap not turning his one on either.

"You could have woken me,”

"I assure you I could have not, you were out cold,” Sapnap countered, Dream just rolling his eyes.

"That’s what my sister said as well.”

"Well, she is usually right, isn’t she? But either way, how have you been?” Sapnap asked, his mood switching to something more serious. Sapnap had always been way too good at reading him, maybe it was because of how much time they spent together but sometimes Dream thought that Sap might actually know him better than he did himself. He could always tell when Dream felt off.

"We’ve literally seen each other yesterday, or technically today,” Dream tried to stall just for a little longer, but before even saying it he knew Sapnap wouldn’t let him get away with it.

"Come on Dream, the last I saw of you last night was Drista having to carry you up the stairs as you bawled your eyes out, something happened.” It was truly frightening how attentive Sapnap could be. But even then, Dream felt his mouth go slightly dry as he thought back to what happened.

"Am I gay?” Dream then blurted out.

He didn’t look at his screen, although he knew he wouldn’t be met by anything he still shut his eyes as he listened to the silence ring between them for a moment. He knew that that wasn’t the real question he wanted to ask, but it was the only way he could think of to start the conversation he had convinced himself he didn’t want to have.

"I mean,” Sapnap said after a short silence, clearly taken aback by the question. "There are some quizzes out there if you want to find out.” Dream let go of a breath he didn’t realise he had been holding, letting his eyes flutter open as he was met with the wood of his desk. For once in his life not having the energy to laugh at Sapnap’s joke.

"I know that I like girls, but at the same time-” Dream cut himself off, the logical part of his brain new that ripping of the bandage was the best way to go, but still it took him a minute of deep breaths before he was able to continue, Sapnap patiently waiting for whenever he was ready.

"George kissed me last night,” he finally got out, and once the first words were out he found it much easier to continue. "I’ve kissed plenty of people, I was making out with a bunch of girls not even two minutes before, but somehow it was different when it was with George.”

Dream let the words linger between them for a bit, and when he didn’t continue Sapnap pushed a little.

"Different in what sense?” He asked, his words lacking any judgement, and Dream felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. It was just Sapnap after all, he could tell him anything, and so he did.

"You are the one always joking about the relationship I have with Gogy, and most times you’re right. I think I might actually have a crush on him. And I don't know when I developed it but besides you he is my best friend, and during those times we didn’t talk much I just realised just how much he means to me and how much I actually love him.”

"And where is the problem then?” Sapnap asked, the slightest bit of confusion making it into his voice, and Dream couldn’t help but feel irritation rais inside his gut for not being better at expressing himself, at making Sapnap understand his feelings.

"When I was kissing those girls it didn’t matter, it didn’t mean anything, but with George- It almost felt like cheating.” Dream breathed out the last part as if it was a confession, feeling himself melt into his chair as he closed his eyes once more.

"You mean, because he was a boy?” Sapnap put together, Dream nodding before remembering to speak up.

"I guess so, yeah.”

"But you and Gogy aren’t a couple,” Sapnap then added, the confusion back in his voice, and all Dream could do was sigh.

"That’s kind of the point.”

"You’ve lost me.”

And Dream could so distinctly make out the sound of Sapnap leaning back in his chair.

"When George kissed me I felt something, and that scared me because the only other time I have felt that was when it was related to Gogy. And I think that in that moment it made it clear to me that there were other options out there, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to wait around for someone who might never be ready to even just speak to me.”

He wasn’t sure when genuine hurt had sneaked into his voice, but by the time he finished he felt that familiar feeling of rejection, the memory of Gogy not wanting to meet up with him fresh on his mind.

"I love Gogy, I think I really really do, but I don’t know if I’m willing to risk this thing with George just because he still isn’t willing to trust me.” There was a long pause that followed, up until he heard a loud groan come from Sapnap, his irritation clearly transferring over the call.

"You really need to call him, to just tell him everything you just told me.”

"Gogy or George now?” Dream asked.

"Doesn’t matter! Just call him!” Sapnap screamed, making Dream jump just the slightest bit. He wanted to argue, to demand better advice, but Sapnap didn’t give him the opportunity to as he ended the call, leaving Dream once again alone in a quiet room.

Dream pressed down the power button of his computer until his screen went black, killing the last light source in the room apart from the almost set sun outside the windows. He moved before he could overthink it, grabbing his phone and laying down in bed.

Opening up Gogy’s contact was much more muscle memory than it maybe should have been, but once again Dream didn’t allow himself any time to think about it as he pressed on the icon to start a video call. As the first ring rang through his ears he regretted it, but instead of immediately hanging up he threw his arm over his eyes.

This would be the first time Gogy would see him, if he actually picks up that is. Dream was kind of counting on that, that Gogy would see the incoming face call and just deny it, giving Dream an excuse to avoid the pending conversation for just a little longer, but as the familiar sound of the call starting echoed off his walls that hope died.

He had the phone held up over his head, but kept the arm over his eyes. He wasn’t ready to show himself fully, and wasn't ready to be met with the face that was awaiting him either. After a beat of silence it was becoming apparent that Gogy wouldn’t be the first to speak, so Dream took charge.

"I didn’t think you would actually pick up, so I kind of didn't think far enough ahead to come up with anything to say to you.” The nervousness in his voice was obvious even to him, and the way his hand was slightly trembling as well.

"I just wanted to tell you, that over the last few years I’ve really grown to appreciate you as a friend, and lately as more than that. And I don’t know whether you will reciprocate my feelings or not but I just had to tell you, to let you know-” Dream’s eyes were shut tight, his arm pressing into his face uncomfortably but still he kept going.

"I can’t do it any longer, I just want you to tell me truthfully whether or not it would be stupid to wait for you or if I’d be better off trying to find someone else, even if I maybe won’t ever love them as much as you.”

The silence that followed was almost deafening, that was until it was broken by a voice Dream so clearly recognised.

"You are an idiot.”

Dream swung his hand away from his face just in time to catch a glance of George on the other end, with an expression he didn’t have nearly enough time to try and decipher before the call was ended, the sound of it ringing through his mind as he sat up, his breath suddenly uneven as he stared at his screen.

He was in Gogy’s profile, he had called Gogy-

The connection made a shudder run down his back as so many details seemed to finally fall into place. His best friend was the Prince of England.

Chapter Text

Dream had been pacing up and down his room for what felt like the last three days. All those interactions, all of Gogy's silly quirks finally made sense to him, and as he was re-playing every interaction he had ever had with George he completely lost track of time.

He hadn’t spoken to Sapnap yet, ignoring the others’ messages about what he had ended up deciding on. Luckily Sapnap had stopped calling after the second time being ignored, knowing that there were times where the only way to help Dream was to give him space.

And it seemed as if the same could be said about George. Dream had tried massaging him relentlessly since he had hung up, calling him and even trying to email him, but it seemed as if George had blocked him on absolutely everything. It left Dream restless, walking up and down his own room.

Around him time went on however, the new year had started and with it new campaign plans for his mother had been made. She was currently in Massachusetts running some new campaign to see how that might influence the upcoming political battle she’ll have to face. She had invited Dream to accompany her, but luckily she didn’t push it when Dream declint the offer.

And as much as Dream hated himself for admitting it, he was glad she was out of the house. When his mother got stressed she could be all kinds of difficult, and Dream had been unlucky enough to inherit that trait of hers which meant that if they both were stressed at the same time in the same place they always ended up clashing in one way or another.

Drista has always been good at keeping a cool head on the other hand, at least when it comes to important things, otherwise she is the first to throw a tantrum about minor inconveniences. Since Dream still felt to awkward to inform Sapnap about his total fuck up with George he had taken into consideration asking his sister for advise.

But he had quickly given up on that idea, there was far too much history he would have to fill her in on for her to even try and understand the situation he currently found himself in, and besides that he didn’t trust that she wouldn’t either laugh at him or immediately tell someone else about it, and the last thing Dream needed was the press somehow hearing about this.

So in the end Dream just found himself pacing up and down his room just as he had been for the last three days. His thoughts had stopped making sense a long time ago, and any sound from his phone made him jump. He really needed to talk to someone about this, otherwise his thoughts would eat him alive.

Eventually he came to a halt, circling his shoulders a bit as he felt the tension that had settled in them. He felt something painfully close to shame rise in him as he sat down in front of his computer, giving into himself and calling the only person that always seemed to help.

"Took you long enough.” Sapnap’s voice came through the speakers, some of Dream’s panic leaving him at the familiar sound as he sunk a little deeper into his gaming chair. "I’m not one to assume, but I’ll take your three day silence as a sign it didn’t go too well.” He continued when Dream didn’t say anything, turning on his facecam.

Dream was met with that same view as always, Sapnap’s room. It had basically stayed the same ever since Dream had first been there in person all those years ago. It was the only thing Dram had ever envied from the other, the fact that he had gotten to spend his entire life growing up in the same house. Unlike Dream who was constantly forced to move from place to place.

"It definitely didn’t go as hoped,” Dream told him as he also turned on his facecam, suddenly feeling very exposed as he saw Sap’s eyes wander over the screen.

"What happened?”

It was a simple enough question, with a simple enough answer. He had spilled out his heart to who he thought was his online best friend, a person he had been subconsciously developing feelings for for the last two or three years just to find out that that person was actually a real life prince who he had actively rejected. Simple.

But still, Dream felt his throat close up everytime he opened his mouth to tell Sapnap, and as he sat there trying, another thought hit him, did Sapnap already know who Gogy was?

"Gogy is George- George, Prince of England that is.” He suddenly blurted out just to see Sapnaps reaction, and he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting but from the simple nod it was clear the other had already known that. "You knew?”

There was the slightest bit of betrayal in his voice. How could it be that his two best friends were able to keep something like that from him. Sapnap didn’t give him much time for him to jump to conclusions though.

"Not for long! He-” Now it was Sapnap’s turn to struggle with finding the right words. He shifted around in his seat nervously before seeming to decide to just bite the bullet. "After your party, after the kiss he came to find me. I swear I didn’t know before that. But he just came to me crying and told me everything, that he knew who I was and that he had known for a while who you were.”

There was a short pause, something still clearly on Sapnap’s mind so Dream just let the silence between them stretch until Sapnap was ready to break it.

"He asked me not to tell you. He ended up taking a plane back that same night, by that time Drista had already gotten you into bed and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep a secret like that so I got on a plane back to Texas as soon as I got up in the morning. I just wasn’t sure how to handle everything.”

Sapnap finished, guilt having made its way into his voice and Dream couldn’t help but feel guilty as well. Sapnap had always been such an amazing friend to him, always there when Dream needed him and somehow always knowing just what to do. And Dream tried his best to be there for him as well, but sometimes along the years he had realised that he just wasn’t as good at it as Sapnap. He tried to make up for his lack of emotional reliability in other ways though, and Sapnap had never made him feel bad about any of it.

"You know,” Sapnap spoke up again, Dream not even having realised the silence that had settled between them again. "I probably should have stayed there, with you, this seems to be really affecting you.”

The mention of his current state made Dream thred his hands through his hair, feeling how gross he had let it become over the last few days. It made him sigh loudly.

"I’m sorry for always making you pick up the pieces of the mess that I am.” Dream said, closing his eyes as he pulled at the roots of his hair.

"That’s what friends are for.” Sap brushed it off, just like he always did. "Now, tell me how badly you fumbled things with your lover boy.”

And as much as Sapnap knew how to be a supportive friend he also knew just the right ways to tease Dream. Dream sunk further unto himself as another loud sigh left him, his hands coming up to cover his face.

"He just hung up on me, I spilled out my heart to him and he just hung up.” He complained. "I don’t get him!”

"You never have.” The slightest bit of amusement could be found on Sapnaps face, and it just made Dream’s face burn up in embarrassment.

"I was being stupid, but that’s no reason to ignore me.”

"Did you try to reach out?”

"That’s the only thing I’ve been doing for the last three days. Messages, calls and even emails, and I got nothing in response. He probably blocked me on everything.” Dream felt the frustration from the last days spill out of him.

"Maybe he just needs some space from you.” Sapnap offered, swinging from side to side in his gaming chair. And something about that wording made Dream’s brows frown.

"Has he been talking to you?” He wasn’t sure if he should be excited or offended by the possibility, but once again he wasn’t given time to sort out his feelings before Sapnap answered.

"Not about you. I asked him once and when he ignored it I didn’t bring it up again.” He explained, a kind of seriousness in his voice Dream wasn’t exactly sure what to interpret as.

After a short silence Dream spoke up again, in a small voice and against his better judgement. "Is he doing alright?” It made something in Sapnap’s eyes soften.

"Not any better than you, but I’m not a mind reader so I don’t know what exactly is the causing it for him.” That statement made something in the blonds chest hurt, the thought of George lying in his bed, maybe having those nightmares again all while Dream was on the other side of an ocean just waiting to be allowed to love him.

"I don’t know how much longer I can do this Sap. I know giving him space is the right thing to do but it has been days and I don’t think he is planning to unblock me any time soon. This is agony.” Dream confused, staring down at his desk feeling unable to hold up against any of Sapnap’s stares.

"Maybe,” the Texan started but stopped himself, almost as if he was unsure if bringing up his idea was a good idea or not. "Maybe you should go see him.” The suggestion made Dream’s eyes snap up to the screen again. "You two are idiots, but I know that if you got a chance to talk it out you would be able to figure this whole thing out once and for all.”

"He won’t answer my calls though.” Dream reminds him, feeling like a little kid, unable to wrap his head around what Sapnap was trying to tell him.

"Maybe you just need to put in more effort. Get on a plane and break into Buckhinham palace, that will at least show him that you are serious about rekindling your friendship.” Dream was well aware that he couldn’t just break into the royal family's residents, but in his experience Sapnap has always been right, so there was no reason for him not to trust him on this one as well.

Besides, he had been keeping in his nervous energy for far too long now. So without another word he jumped up and opened up his closet, pulling the suitcase in the very back out and starting to throw in clothes blindly before messaging Manager Ken. He needed a flight to London.

Chapter Text

A sort of apathetic feeling had settled in George’s mind. The moment he had arrived back home after that New Years party he had gone to his room and stayed there. He had been brought food but he hadn’t been able to stomach most of it, instead he spent all his time lying in bed, either sleeping or wasting his time.

If he had to choose he would say that he preferred sleeping much more than laying awake wasting his time, because at least when he slept he didn’t have the same thoughts haunting him. That stupid phone call hadn’t left his mind ever since he had hung up, and the only way he knew how to escape it was to sleep.

But he knew he couldn’t do that forever so he found himself lying on top of his covers staring at the scaling. The conversation he had had with Dream replaying in his head no matter how much he willed for it to stop.

He had known that this would happen after all. It was the exact reason why he had never mustered up the courage to tell Dream who he really was. Of course there were safety reasons influencing his decision to stay anonymous, but he had just been too scared to risk losing Dream over something he couldn't control.

And with the way Dream had reacted to him that fear seemed to have been proven right.

How could Dream say that he loved him when the moment George actually made an advancement he pushed him away. George knew that he had no right to be upset about that but there was just something so frustrating about Dream only loving the deeply censored version of him.

George curled into himself on the bed, laying on his side and making himself as small as possible.

He knew better, he had known better than to let himself get close to someone. And yet he had let it happen. He felt so stupid, and as he laid there a feeling of betrayal started mixing with the hurt deep inside his chest, a new wave of tears burning behind his eyes.

George closed his eyes tight as he breathed in deep, willing for the feeling to stop, for everything to just stop.

He desperately wanted to get his phone and call Sapnap, but his body refused to move, there was nothing Sapnap could do anyways. Maybe he should have gone back to Texas with Sap instead of flying back home, like that he at least wouldn't have had to be miserable alone.

There was a knock at the door, the suddenness of it making George wince where he laid in his bed. It didn't sound exactly hectic, but it was definitely a lot more forceful than what he was used to from the staff, but still George assumed it to be just another servant bringing him food he wouldn't actually end up eating.

"Come in,” George called out, sighing at the sound of his own voice,he could at least try to sound more polite, but he hadn't found the energy to do so.

When the door didn't immediately open, George's brows frowned, he sat up on his elbows to look over at the door, as if that would give him any clues as to what was on the other side.

But before George could start to question whether or not he had just imagined the knock an all too familiar voice spoke up from the other side.

"George, it's me,” Dream’s voice was small, almost unsure of himself, but still it made George jump.

He had run across the room to his door in less than a second, the quick movement making him dizzy as he leaned against the door for support.

His entire body weight pushed against the wood as his shaking hand came up to wrap around the door knob, just holding it. George's mind was racing, it had gone from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds and it made it impossible for him to try and make out even just one coherent thought.

George had half expected Dream to barge in, to not even knock and just push through the door, but even as the minutes passed by Dream continued to wait behind the door, waiting for George to let him in.

And as George held his own breath he could almost imagine hearing Dream's heart beat, the quiet drowning everything else out.

And then the world went back to normal, the noise of his own thoughts rushing in all at once as he found himself face to face with Dream.

He had known that Dream was there, of course he had known, but seeing him now still made a feeling of surprise mix with the confusion and hurt from before.

Dream's mouth fell open upon seeing him, as if he was just as surprised that it was George opening the door to George's bedroom. And just as Dream seemed to compose himself, ready to say something the prince cut him off.

"What are you doing here?” George asked, it sounded almost like an accusation, and as George saw Dream's guilt ridden expression he forced himself to look away.

He turned around, walking back into the room in false indifference as he tried to ignore the quiet joy at Dream's perssents, at the knowingness that Dream had travelled all the way here just for him.

"George,” Dream said, almost pleadingly as he stepped into the room now as well, closing the door behind himself as he hurried to George's side. "George, I just need you to hear me out please.”

"You don't have to explain yourself,” George turned around on his heels suddenly, a surprised yelp leaving him as he found himself much closer to Dream then he had expected, but he was quick to compose himself, even as the heat rushed to his face. "If my title is too intimidating for you that's fine, I get it. I was being stupid letting myself get close knowing-”

"No! No, no no, that's not it George. Not at all.” Dream cut him off, his hands coming to grab George by the shoulders. "Not to sound mean but I don't give a flying fuck about your title, I was just being stupid-” He rambled, tripping over his own words.

"I didn't realise that it was you. But I know now, and I know now too that I love you,” Dream continued and George felt himself taking a step backwards, almost stumbling over himself as Dream pulled his hands away from him again.

"You don't! You love the idea of a version of me that only exists on a screen-” He didn't know why he was fighting it so hard, but there was this deep rooted fear in the back of his head, screaming at him to shut off.

Just like when he always does, running from his own emotions because it's far too overwhelming to let them consume him, far too unpredictable.

"George, I know you,” Dream insisted. "I know your favourite colour, I've been to your favourite restaurant, I know how competitive you can get and I know how caring you are when you don't try to hide it behind indifference.”

George wanted to hide, to get out of there and forever live in the little safe haven he had built for himself out of covers and pillows, but he felt helpless as he stood there frozen, just listening.

"I saw you break down on your birthday, we've spent more nights than I can count just sitting in a call, not even talking but just being there together. You're my best friend and no amount of royal titles is going to change that.”

Dream was starting to look helpless now too, desperate to have Heorge believe him. And George had never been good at denying the blond, mostly because deep down he knew that the other was right, they were best friends. Dream knew and understood him in a way no one else ever has, and maybe just this once the family he was born into wouldn't get in the way of that.

"The only reason I pulled away from you on new years is because I got so overwhelmed by everything, because I liked it. I really really liked it and it scared me because in my mind I thought I was-” Dream cut himself off, the hint of a smile playing on his lips as a breathy kind of laugh left him, "in my mind it was cheating, cheating on you with you.”

Another laugh bubbled out of the American as he hid his face in his own hands, the absurdity of it all finally hitting him, and George couldn't help but feel silly. He had been so scared of this conversation, and for what? It was just Dream for crying out loud, there was nothing to be afraid of.

"I'm so sorry George, I'm so dumb, I should have known-”

And at that George finally found his voice again, his hands flying up to pull Dream's away from his face again. "You're not dumb! You're an idiot but you aren't dumb!” He insisted, heat pooling in his face as his eyes found golden ones.

Dream did that far too often, putting himself down, and no matter how scary it felt to George to verbalise his feelings he always found it to be necessary with Dream, to remind him of all the amazing things he embodies.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have thrown myself at you like that and I especially shouldn't have jumped to conclusions when you rejected me-”

"I didn't!” Dream cut him off. It seemed as if neither of them would be getting a chance to actually finish any of their thoughts today. But the thing that actually made George shut up was the earnest expression painted on the blond's face, that sparkle in his eyes that seemed to always make George's face feel hot. "I love you George. You are my best friend and for the longest time I've wanted you to be more, I realise that now. And when I thought that I had missed my chance with you it just made that fact so much more clearer, I want to be your boyfriend.”

Dream finished his confession, George feeling the slightest bit overwhelmed at being so actively wanted. It's not like he usually felt unwanted, it was just that this was something so completely new to him, and he would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy it.

"I-” George started but quickly realised he had nothing really to say, or at least not anything that would come close to describing how happy he was feeling at that very moment. It felt like all the pain and hurt he had felt over the last days had transformed into pure joy in a matter of minutes.

It made his gut twist in a way that felt so overwhelmingly nice he didn't think he would ever be able to put it into words, so instead he leaned forward, pushing his lips against Dream's. A smile spread over his face as he wasn't shoved off this time around, instead two hands came up to hold his face softly as Dream deepened the kiss.

George's hands came up as well clinging to the fabric of Dreams shirt to stay stabilised as he stood up on his tiptoes.

He thought that he could get lost in the feeling of Dream's lips forever, that was at least until he heard the quiet but strong sound of steps echoing off the tall walls of the hallway.

Sounds always tended to echo down the halls, almost hauntingly so, but George had gotten used to it, familiarising himself with all the different sounds that Buckingham Palace made.

And so he pushed Dream away quickly, whipping at his lips as if that would wipe away any evidence of what they had been doing. Dream looked confused, stunted and ready to say something when the door to the room was pushed open with much more force than would have been necessary.

"Mum?” George asked, acting as if surprised to see her. "What is going on?”

"James informed me that Mr. Chase had come to pay you a visit, I just wanted to see if that was true,” she said, her voice carrying nothing but coldness as her eyes bore into Dream, the American shrinking into himself just the slightest bit under her stare.

George hadn't told his mother about anything, excusing his inability to leave his room with being tired, but from her hostility towards Dream it was safe to assume she had realised something at that new years party had gone wrong.

It really didn't take a genius to make that connection, George had cut short what was supposed to be a week-long visit and refused to leave his room or even just talk to anyone.

"Next time please make sure to announce your visits, Mr. Chase,” his mother continued and it was only then that George found his voice again, a need to defend Dream.

"He did!” George lied, both sets of eyes turning to look at him. "To me at least, there must have been a problem with the communications on the white house's part.”

"Yeah, it's been so chaotic with elections and all that they must have made a mistake,” Dream added, looking sheepish in the way he rubbed the back of his neck. It was cute.

The queen didn't seem to agree with George's thought though. Her eyes continued to scan over the others' form, and George could practically hear her thoughts, that Dream's posture wasn't straight enough, how he wasn't polite enough and how he wasn't supposed to even be in George's personal bedroom.

"Very well,” she eventually accepted their excuses. "I will have someone prepare a room for you.” She addressed the American before finally making her way out of the room again, George letting go of a breath he didn't even realise he was holding until the door was shut again.

They stood there for a minute longer, in silence until the echo of the queen's steps was no longer heard, and then suddenly, they broke out in laughter.

It was so easy to laugh with Dream, it was something he hadn't even realised he had missed, something he didn't realise he had needed. Getting to watch the way Dream’s shoulder shook and the way he gasped for air.

George couldn't help but fall a little deeper in love with him. In that moment nothing else mattered, not the election, not his mother almost catching them, nothing. The only thing that mattered to George was to get back to kissing Dream, and even as they continued to laugh he just couldn't get enough, and from the way Dream held onto his waist he seemed to agree.

Chapter Text

It was so easy to fall into place at Buckingham palace, to find his place in George’s life. Dream couldn’t help but compare it to how they first met. The way they were still a little shy at the beginning and how they had to warm up to each other again, the way it started to feel so natural after a few days of Dream staying in London.

The kissing had definitely sped up the process of adjusting to each other's presence, but still it took Dream a while to pick up on all those small things he had previously missed about George’s body language. Knowing that this was actually Gogy made him notice so many quirks, things that he used to lose sleep over just trying to imagine about the other when he didn’t even used to have a voice to put to the name.

He used to wonder whether Gogy sat at his PC during their endless conversations or if he preferred to grab his laptop and lay down in bed, now Dream saw how sacred his bed was to George. He didn’t allow any eating in it, as well as no laptops or video games of any kind, in his words ‘A bed is for sleeping and nothing else’.

Dream also watched the way George didn't seem to force his own posture as much in his room. When entering his bedroom Dream could practically watch the tension leave the prince’s shoulders, as if this was the one place in the world he didn’t force himself to be perfect.

The favourite thing he had found out about George however, was the way his eyelids twitched the slightest bit in the morning when the first rays of sunlight streamed into the room. Never enough to wake him but enough to make Dream kiss him all over.

It had been the first night after Dream’s hurried arrival in London when he had climbed into the bed of the guest room that he would be staying at that he had gotten that call, not a text but an actual phone call. George’s voice had been so quiet, almost raspy as he asked him to come back over to his room even if it had been barely an hour since he had said goodnight and left for his own room.

But still, Dream had climbed back out of bed and gone back to George, and it was that following morning that Dream had noticed that little attribute about George. And it didn’t seem to matter how many nights he sneaked into George’s room, every morning he felt that warm kind of feeling spread through his entire body when he watched George's eyelids twitch under the soft sunrise.

And even though it was already the forth time in a row that Dream had seen it, he still couldn’t stop himself from placing a soft kiss on George’s closed eyes. Maybe that had been a mistake though, because once the first kiss was placed he really couldn’t stop himself from placing a second, and then a third and then keep going until George finally stirred in his sleep, whining quietly as he swatted at Dream.

"What are you doing?” George whined out, his eyelashes fluttering open as he tried adjusting to the light streaming in through the windows.

"I’m kissing my boyfriend,” Dream explained, proving his statement by placing yet another kiss on George’s temples.

"What a weird word,” George mumbled out between a yawn, his eyes falling shut again as he pressed his face into Dream’s neck.

"That’s what you are though,” Dream said with a chuckle, he wasn’t much of a morning person himself but even he got surprised by just how much George seemed to enjoy sleeping. "Besides, it’s time to get up now anyways.” Another laugh bubbled out of him as George groaned, burning himself deeper in the other's chest.

Dream had gotten used to this too, because no matter how much George loved to sleep in he was also very disciplined, a lot more than Dream anyways, and so he eventually did sit up. Much to Dream’s dismay, seemingly taking all the warmth in the world with.

"I think my mother will get annoyed if we stay in the entire day again,” George said, his tone casual but the slight crease between his brows telling Dream that he was serious. "We should probably go out, get photographed somewhere and let the press know that we are still friends.”

"Friends?” Dream couldn’t help but tease, the smirk on his face unbothered by the pillow that was promptly shoved into his face.

"You know what I mean!” George complained loudly, having the courtesy to pull the pillow away again before Dream had a chance to suffocate. "Whatever, I’m going to get ready for breakfast, you can stay if you want though.”

"You know I will” Dream called after him, George most definitely rolling his eyes before the door to the attached bathroom fell shut. Dream stretched out his arms above his head before reaching to grab his phone, needing something to entertain him until George was done with his morning routine, something that Dream realised could last anything between five minutes and half an hour.

There was quite the disappointment when his phone screen didn’t immediately light up, more so when he realised it must have run out of battery sometime in the night. He sat quietly before flipping over, looking over the floor next to the bedside table for where his charger was, promptly plugging his phone in upon finding it.

It took another moment before the screen lit up and then another for endless messages to flood in. Dreams' brows frowned as he saw that he had six missed calls and far too many unread messages. First he thought that it had probably just been Sapnap that had gotten annoyed at the lack of attention from both Dream and George, but upon opening his messages he came to the sobering realisation that they were all from his mother, same with the calls.

Dream heard the shower in the other room turn on, and it seemed like George would take a little while longer. He swallowed down the lumb that had formed in his throat and before he could overthink it he called back his mother. She picked up on the first ring, and Dream wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not, considering it was only around 4am back in Washington.

"Where the hell are you?!” She practically screamed as soon as she picked up the call, Dream flinching where he was still lying in bed.

"I’m in London,” He started, being cut off rather quickly though.

"I know that!”

"Then why did you-” He bit his tongue. His mother was in a bad mood, clearly, so there was no point in giving her anything that could be misinterpreted as ‘attitude’. Her campaign in Massachusetts must not have gone as planned then.

"Why the hell did you go to London?! I need you here!” Her voice came through the speaker loudly, loud enough to force Dream to hold the phone away from his face as he heard her continue. "This will be an incredibly close election, we can’t risk anything, much less you embarrassing us again.”

Dream felt a sharp pain in his throat, that feeling of absolute helplessness taking over his mind as he tried to remind himself that his mother didn’t mean it like that. She wasn’t embarrassed of him, she was just stressed, and frustrated and not in the right place to be talking to him right now. He desperately tried to hang onto those thoughts, to repeat them in his mind to stop the tears from forming, but ultimately there was no use, he was just glad his mother wasn’t actually there to see them fall.

"I’m sorry,” he started, his voice breaking audibly and he could only hope it hadn’t been picked up by the microphone.

"There is no changing it now,” she sighed, some of the anger having left her voice, and it all but broke Dream’s heart to hear how tired she sounded. It had been so long since she had been on vacation, on a proper vacation that didn’t involve visiting some high racing politician. Ever since moving into the white house every holiday, to some degree, had been related to hosting big parties and public events.

But he didn’t dare to wish them back their old lives. Having to move out of the white house was far too real of a possibility that he didn’t want to even engage that thought.

"Just promise me you’ll be on your best behaviour, alright? Fostering that fake friendship with the prince is important, but right now we need to focus on our own people, animate them to vote, and I need you here for that.” She was a lot more sure about herself as she spoke this time around, that almost commanding tone that never failed to reassure Dream that she knew what she was doing. There was a reason why she had come this far after all.

"I promise. I’ll fly back as soon as possible, okay?” His voice on the other hand came out much more timid than he would have wanted it to. He could practically hear her nood on the other end, a quiet sigh making it through the call.

"I love you Clay,”

"Love you too.”

And then the call ended, leaving Dream with dried tears sticking to his face and the slightest sense of relief when he was left in a completely quiet room again, that was until the door opened. Dream hadn’t even noticed when the water had stopped, quickly whipping down his face as George stepped back into the room, nothing but a towel secured around his waist.

"I was thinking, Dream, how about we finally go to my favourite Indian place today? Not like we have much else to do, unless you would prefer all the basic sights.” He said, coming through his dripping hair with his fingers as he walked over to the bed, sitting down on the edge of it.

"Sounds good,” He tried to make his voice sound exciting, or at least as if he had actually just listened to anything George had said, but from the frown forming on the Brits face it was safe to assume he hadn’t exactly achieved that.

"Are you alright?” George asked worriedly, reaching out to lay his hand on Dream's forehead, and although the blond knew it wasn’t an abnormal temperature causing his strangeness he still found the touch to help, leaning into it.

"I’m fine, it’s just-” Dream wasn’t sure how to finish his thought, not when George moved his hand to so softly hold his face instead now. His hand was still warm from the hot shower he had stepped out of just moments before and Dream couldn’t help but close his eyes for a moment, breathing in the scent of the fancy body wash George liked to use so much. "It’s really nothing, at least not something that couldn’t be fixed by Indian food.” Dream eventually said.

George’s giggle was enough to put a smile back on his own face as well, and when he felt lips push against his he didn’t have a mind to try and stop them. Eventually however they did have to pull apart agan.

Dream’s mind continued to wander as he got ready, always circling back to what was going on back home. But he tried to ignore it, he had sacrificed so much for his mother, he had spent so much of his time campaigning for her the first time she ran for office and as much as he hated himself for it he wasn‘t sure if he could do it all again.

He didn‘t want to have to compromise George.

He wanted to be happy and spent his time wherever and however he wanted and no longer be tied down by regulations he had no say in. But behind that need for independence and wanting to be rebellious just this once there was also a kind of fear that he would never get to share this part of himself with his mother, the person who had always been there within.

It was in moments like this that he missed his father the most. But he didn‘t allow himself to focus on that though, he knew better than to think about what could have been instead of the present moment, and so he followed George into the restaurant.

"The Prince!" An older man greeted them as soon as they walked through the door, a giant smile plastered on his face and Dream found it surprisingly contagious. "It‘s been so long since we‘ve been allowed to host you." He continued, holding out his hand to George, the brit meeting his handshake surprisingly quickly.

For how much George seemed to dislike any kind of human interactions he seemed rather comfortable in this environment, but maybe it was because the restaurant was completely empty outside of them.

"And of course it‘s also an honour to get to host your friend," The man finally addressed Dream, once again holding out his hand, Dream being more than happy to receive the firm handshake.

"I‘ve already gotten a chance to taste your food, and when I tell you I‘ve been trying to convince this guy to take me back here every day since." Dream said, nudging George in the side a little.

"Such a liar." George just rolled his eyes, the owner of the place letting out a loud laugh at the interaction in front of him.

"I can already tell why you two get along so well, definitely found a fun one with this guy, huh?" He patted George on the shoulder, and the look the Prince gave Dream could only have been described as adoration, it made Dream‘s heartbeat a little faster.

"Sure did," George confirmed, his voice just quiet enough for only the two of them to hear.

"Well, you can take a seat at whatever table you like and I‘ll get you started on some drinks while you look through the menu." The owner broke them from their little moment again, George thanking him before leading the way into the main part of the restaurant.

"Any table you want to sit at in particular?" George asked him as they stopped in the middle of the large dining room, Dream taking a moment to look around at the options.

"I meant, it would be good to get one more press before I fly back home, so anywhere near the window would be fine."

At least like that this visit will have been a little bit productive.

"A window seat is then!" George stated, leading him over to one of the tables pushed against the window with a perfect view of the people passing by on the street outside. The Brit made an exaggerated show of pulling out Dream‘s chair for him, the two of them breaking out in laughter as they took their seats, although it made a thought pop up in Dream‘s mind.

"Is this a date?" He blurted out suddenly, seemingly catching the other off guard. George opened up his mouth to say something just as they got interrupted.

"Water for the table as well as the usual homemade pink lemonade for the prince. Anything that I can bring you?" The owner asked as he placed the drinks on the table, handing each of them a menu.

"I‘ll be fine with just the water, thank you." Dream, assured, mostly because he wanted to be alone with George again. And it seemed to work just fine as they were left alone again to look over the options.

"I mean, technically I guess so." George said then, not looking up to meet Dream‘s eyes but instead focusing on the menu in front of him.

"Technically?" Dream asked, not quite satisfied with that answer. George finally looked up again, his gaze softening.

"I mean, it is. But-" His eyes wandered, focusing on something behind Dream, and as he threw a glance over his shoulder he realised what was causing George‘s hesitance. There stood a handful of bodyguards at the entrance of the restaurant as well as scattered around the rest of the room. "We are two guys grabbing lunch at my favourite restaurant, not more, not less."

Dream felt his shoulders sag a little. He had known that they wouldn‘t be able to be open about their relationship, not with how important both of their parents were, but the implications of that hadn‘t fully sunk in yet.

"I hadn‘t thought about that," Dream admitted, looking down at the menu now as well, his eyes flying over the printed words but not registering any of the information.

"Dream," George whispered, leaning forward over the table, an almost mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Let‘s just enjoy lunch for now, okay? I‘ll make it up to you later." He leaned his head to the side, the grin on his face only growing as Dream felt his face heat up a little, finding it far too difficult to keep his own smile off his face.

There was also a kind of thrill to having to hide their relationship, it made it so much more apparent that George was his in way. And although Dream wanted nothing more than to love George as loudly and openly as possible, if this was the way they were going to do things maybe he could get used to it.

They didn’t take long on deciding what to eat, both of them going with the simple option, butter chicken. Maybe it was a bit basic, and maybe it would have been fun to try out some more exotic options and really taste the whole pallet of spices that Indian food provided, but today wasn’t the day to be experimental.

The weather had that familiar London gloom to it and eating something familiar helped Dream to relax, to let loose as he struggled to catch his breath between eating and laughing at whatever joke George had made. It made him almost forget about all the worries he was so used to wearing him down.

But that had always been the reason why he felt so drawn to Gogy, the other had just a way to make him get lost in laughter and joy or even just in a comforting silence. Getting to experience it in person made a whole new train of thought take over Dream’s mind. What if they could do this more often? What if Drema didn’t have to live in the white house anymore and could instead move to London. It wasn’t a place he had ever thought about living in, but the more he got to watch George’s eyes light up with excitement, or the way giggles practically bubbled out of him the more Dream toyed with the possibility of getting to see that everyday.

"We’re done then,” George more states than asked as he leaned back in his seat, the plates in front of them empty to the last crumb. "I’m stuffed, you’ll have to roll me back to the car.” He complained, making a show of rubbing his belly all the while Dream laughed.

"Oh come on, we didn’t even have dessert.” Dream rolled his eyes, finishing the last sip of the lemonade he ended up ordering.

"Don’t even talk about food right now, I couldn’t have a single bite more right now.” George complained, Dream just giggling as he leaned on the table, his table manners having been forgotten long ago. "If you want though,” George said, seeming to have an idea, sitting up a bit straighter. "There is this really nice bakery not far from here, we could get something and have it with tea back home.”

"Do British people really have teatime? I always thought that was a marketing-gag or something”

"It’s a part of our cultural traditions, something you Americans would obviously know nothing about.” George put an extra emphasis on his accent, relishing in the amused smile he got in response, "So what do you say, teatime?”

Dream’s smile flattered slightly as he remembered the phone call he had gotten that morning. "I really need to go back home, my mother is back from her campaign and she really needs me.”

"Oh, that’s alright, I understand.” And a part of Dream wished he didn’t, that he would make a bigger deal out of it and at least try to persuade him to stay. Dream would have taken any excuse to stay just a few days longer, but George knew too well what it was like to have to step up and help out his parents, so instead of heading to the bakery that made their way out of the restaurant and to the car not parked far away in a bit of a backstread.

"Could you maybe give us just a moment?” George suddenly asked as one of the bodyguards that had accompanied them opened the car door for them. George got a nood in response before he climbed into the back seat of the car, practically pulling Dream in behind himself.

"What the-” Dream yelped as he stumbled into the car, the door being shut behind him, and as soon as it was he felt those familiar lips push against his again. He melted into the kiss, savouring the taste of pink lemonade still lingering on George’s lips, until he remembered where they still were, pulling back. "What about the-”

Dream asked as his eyes snapped to the window behind him, the bodyguard standing right outside. "They are mirrored,” George quickly cut off his question, his hands coming up to softly turn Dream’s head back to look at him. "I couldn’t wait until we got back home, sorry.” He apologised, looking up with those big eyes Dream could get lost in forever.

"It’s okay,” Dream assured, grabbing a hold of one of George’s hands to interlock their fingers before leaning down again, kissing the prince again and again. He wanted to savour every moment he got, especially since he didn’t know for how long he would have to stay in the US again.

Chapter Text

George didn‘t end up being able to accompany him to the airport, having to catch up on a lot of things he had been neglecting over the last few weeks. He had to get ready for an event he really couldn‘t get out of and he had to start focusing on his studies again.

But in all honesty Dream was glad about it, like this he got to kiss George goodbye in the comfort of his room instead of giving him just a halfhearted hug in front of everyone before boarding the plane.

The private jet was by far one of the best benefits he had gotten ever since his mother came into office, although he was sure he would be getting some kind of lecture for using it for one of his ‘field trips‘.

He wasn‘t sure why he was dreading coming home so much, he loves his mother, so he didn‘t know where this sudden need to avoid her came from. But maybe it was just because of the elections, it wasn‘t really that he was avoiding her, he was just giving her space to focus on her work. Once everything was over they would go back to normal.

Still, he had this almost dread-like feeling settle in his gut, and even once they were safely in the air and the flight attendant allowed him to use his electronic devices again he didn‘t. He kept his phone on flight mode, not caring enough to connect to the wifi on board and instead put on a movie. There was a big selection he could have chosen from, much bigger than in any commercial flight he had been on, but he didn‘t have the mind to try and decide on anything, so instead he clicked on the first thing he saw and let it play as background noise as he let his eyes slowly fall shut.

He wasn‘t even really tired, but sleeping was better than overthinking that sinking feeling in his gut.

Dream was woken up by a steady hand shaking him awake, a flight attendant smiling down at him when he blinked his eyes open. "Please put your chair back in an upright position sir, we are about to land," she told him, clearly not for the first time.

"Shit, sorry," Dream apologised, almost jumping out of the seat if it hadn‘t been for the seatbelt keeping him in place. He didn‘t even remember lying all the way down.

He stretched out his arms over his head, he didn‘t think sleeping on a plane would ever be comfortable, no matter how luxurious. Dream caught a sight of the city below, feeling a sigh leave him at being met with the sight of Washington, DC.

Over the years he had gotten used to calling this place his home, but landing here would never compare to finally coming home to Florida after a long trip when he was younger, and even compared to finally being able to hold George in his arms this felt just a little bit underwhelming.

When the flight attendant finally allowed him to get out of his seat Dream didn‘t waste a second to finally stretch out fully, reaching the ceiling of the plane easily. He felt disgusting, he really needed a shower after the day he had just had, and although he had spent the entire flight sleeping he couldn't wait to finally fall into bed.

Stepping out of the plane was a relief, feeling the last rays of the sunset hit his face and getting a fresh breath of air made the hint of a smile make its way back onto his face. That smile however quickly turned to confusion as he walked down the stairs, catching sight of his sister waiting there for him.

He didn‘t expect her to bother coming out all the way just to pick him up. The closer he got to her the clearer did he see her expression, that pale look on her face that could only be described as worry and a little bit of pity.

"Drista? What are you doing here- what‘s going on?" Dream asked, that bad feeling from earlier coming back a hundred times worse, something wasn‘t right.

"They published it, it got leaked," she said, stumbling over her words a bit. The way she stood there, so unsure of herself, didn't do anything for Dream‘s nerves either.

"What was? What are you talking about? Is it about mom?" Dream asked, panic rising inside him, every possibility of what could have been leaked racing through his mind at once. He reached out for her, grabbing a hold of her shoulders to keep himself upright as his mind raced with a million questions. Was it some secret document not even he knew about? A fake rumour about his mother from back in highschool? Something about his father?

"Not about mom," Drista finally said, breaking him from his thoughts and only helping in confusing him further. There was a kind of expression hidden behind the green of her eyes, between those few specs of brown she got from their father, she looked at him with pity, maybe a little hurt too. "It‘s about you, about you and George."

Suddenly she wasn‘t enough to keep Dream upright, his knees connecting painfully with the concrete floor of the airport runway. All the air was knocked out of his lungs as he suddenly found it difficult to catch his breath, his mind connecting what she meant.

Someone had seen them. Worse, someone had leaked it.

He couldn‘t do this, he wasn‘t ready to have people know, to have his mother know. For every one to find out not how he wanted to tell them, but rather however the press chose to present it. Drista was talking to him, he was sure of it, but he couldn‘t hear her. Not over his gasping breaths, not over the blood rushing through his ears, and especially not about the single thought that kept taunting him.

What if George blames you for this?

Dream doesn‘t remember being helped up, he doesn‘t remember the drive to the white house either, all he remembered is that fear that didn‘t seem to want to leave him alone again.

Even as a child Dream can‘t remember a time he felt this scared of coming home. He had refused to look at the actual image, he had also refused to turn on his phone, scared of seeing a message from George at the top. And maybe also because he was scared of the alternative of not finding a message at all.

Dream only snapped out of his fear ridden haze when he felt strong arms wrap around him, that ever so familiar smell of ash hugging him from all sides as he realised who was holding him; Sapnap.

"Nick? What-" Dream started to ask, not getting very far as he felt the words get caught in his throat.

"It‘s okay, I‘m here. I‘m right here with you," Sapnap assured, pulling away slightly to look at him.

He looked like a mess.

Spanpa‘s hair was a mess not very well hidden by the cap he had pulled over it, and his clothes were very clearly not appropriate for the January cold, standing there in a short sleeved shirt and sleep shorts. He would have most definitely frozen to death if it wasn‘t for the large firefighter jacket he had pulled over.

Dream could recognise that jacket anywhere. It had been a gift from Sapnap‘s father on his eleventh or so birthday. Dream remembered how excited the Texan had been over it, how he wouldn‘t shut up about becoming a firefighter too one day.

Back then Sapnap practically swam in the jacket, and even now it was still rather big on him, but Dream couldn‘t help but think it suited him, he had grown into it rather nicely.

"Have you heard from him?" Sapnap suddenly pulled him out of his thoughts again, green eyes struggling to stay focused as he felt his vision become blurry all over again.

"Have you?" Dream asked, somewhat dodging the question. But when he saw Sapnap shake his head, even his last hope of George having sent him a message disappeared. Sapnap was always the first person either of them would run to if things got hard, or confusing or rightout messy, so if the brunet hadn‘t heard from George there was no way he had messaged Dream either.

It made that panic from early come up again, spreading through his entire body as he suddenly felt cold, freezing almost as he started to tremble.

"Hey, hey! It‘s okay, buddy, everything will be fine," Sapnap immediately started to talk again, grabbing him by the shoulders and trying to ground him.

"I‘m getting our mother," Drista spoke up again, Dream almost having forgotten that she was there as well.

"No!"

And surprisingly enough it wasn‘t his own voice that he heard protest, instead he found Sapnap staring down his sister. "He just got off an eight hour flight, let him at least get some rest, besides, she has other things to do right now."

Dream couldn't tell whether or not Drista agreed or if Sapnap just decided it on his own, all Dream could recognize was that familiar arm coming to hold him around the shoulders as Sapnap led him to his room.

He felt all kinds of grateful when he fell face first into his bed, relishing in the familiar smell as he let all his muscles untense. For just a moment did he allow himself to stop thinking just so he could let his racing mind slow down enough to form a proper thought.

"When did you make it here?" Dream asked, the question getting lost in the space between his face and the mattress as he heard Sapnap ask him to repeat it. "When did you get here?" Dream asked again, turning around and sitting up a bit to see Sapnap looking through his closet.

"I got on the first plane the second I heard about it." He held up a few clothing options before seemingly finding what he was looking for, shrugging off his oversized jacket and carefully hanging it over Dream's gaming chair. "I didn‘t even have time to pack anything, I just found my dad and was out the door," he explained, pulling his shirt off over his head, Dream letting himself drop back onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

"How many people do you reckon have seen it?" Dream asked carefully after a moment, not even sure if he wanted any answer. Sapnap didn‘t answer immediately, not the best sign, instead he climbed into bed next to Dream, the blond only needing a short glance to recognise the hoodie and sweatpants Sapnap had stolen for himself.

"I don‘t think there would be a point in lying to you," Sapnap eventually settled on, confirming all of Dream‘s nightmares without having to say it outloud. "Have- have you seen it?" He added, almost a bit unsure.

Dream turned his head to look at him, finding it far too easy to stare back at those grey eyes as he slowly shook his head. With Sapnap he didn‘t feel like he had to hide, and maybe it was because Sapnap had been the only other person in the world that had already known, but he could‘t find even just a single speck of judgement in the grey of his eyes.

"Can you show me?"

He watched the way Sapnap thought the request over in his mind, the way he debated whether it was a good idea or not, but eventually he sat up to find his phone that had landed on the floor somewhere tangled between his clothes. And when he finally found it and handed it over to Dream the blond almost felt his heart drop.

Shining back at him was a somewhat blurry picture of him and George sitting in the backseat of a car making out. If it had been just the slightest bit more blurry maybe they could have denied it, pretended like it was just some other normal people being in love, but with the way it looked there was no point in trying to deny it, it was them. For the whole world to see.

Dream clicked off the image just to realise it was only one of many listed as evidence in the article, an article that was surely also only one of many. He couldn‘t even read the words, the letters bleeding into each other as he scrolled down the page. Finding the paragraphs to be endless as he wondered what in the world they could have written about, what should have been, a mundane experience.

But when your mother is the president of the United states nothing seems to be mundane enough not to overanalyze.

Dream shut off the phone again as he handed it back to Sapnap, his hands coming up to tug at the roots of his hair. He wanted to say something, anything really, but he couldn‘t find his voice. His throat suddenly felt dry and his mind started to race again, preventing him from forming a thought and so he laid there in silence, Sapnap’s percents next to him the only thing keeping him together.

Chapter Text

Dream didn't know how much time had passed, neither of them had spoken up again, instead Dream had spent however long it had been to try and come up with anything to say to his mother by the time he would see her again.

He knew it was inevitable, but with every minute that passed he still wasn't able to come up with anything good he wished for any way he could delay the conversation just a little longer.

Sapnap had stayed with him, laying right beside him, thinking about god knows what. Maybe he was thinking about how this would affect not only his own life as well but also his friendship with both Dream and George, or maybe he was debating on whether or not he wanted to order food or find something quick to cook in the kitchen.

With Sapnap you could never tell.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking on Dream's part, because honestly, he couldn't think of anything better than a pizza party or cooking session with his all time best friend right now.

But it didn't seem like he would be getting that any time soon, not with the way Sapnap suddenly sat up beside him, just before the door flew open. Dream hadn't even heard the footsteps.

"Please leave us alone, Nick.” The way his mother said it didn't sound like a request at all, her voice was much too stern to be interpreted as anything other than an order.

One Sapnap didn't have the authority to try and deny, even with the wary glance he threw at Dream.

The Texan left hesitantly, Dream's mother pushing the door shut behind him, the noise making Dream flinch from where he had sat up against the headboard of his bed.

His mother didn't say anything, and somehow that made everything so much worse. She was just staring at him, as if still deciding on how best to word just how disappointed she was with him. How much he had just jeopardised all of their futures.

And a rational part of Dream knew that he had nothing to be afraid of, this was his mother after all, his mother that loved him unconditionally and would never do something to hurt him. But in that moment he found it so difficult to remind himself of that.

Found it hard to remind himself that she was his mother when she was dressed in that suit, with her hair so neatly pulled back in a bun.

Found it so difficult to remind himself that they shared the same eyes when they were staring down at him so coldly.

And then it all became too much and he wasn‘t able to hold back the tears anymore, and although he knew just how much she hated it, he couldn't stop himself from crying out, the world around him feeling far too big for him to face on his own.

All he wanted was to disappear, for the soft bed below him to swallow him up whole so he would never need to see his mothers disappointment.

"Clay," he almost jerked at the sound of his own name. He had somewhat been expecting it but the way it fell from his mother’s lips with such a softness was more than surprising. "Clay, honey, it‘s okay, it‘s all going to be alright," she continued, sitting down on the edge of the bed and opening up her arms for Dream to fall into, and he did.

"I didn‘t want people to know," he cried, because in that moment it was all he could do. And his mother just held him, drawing shapes into his back as she let him cry out all the pent up emotion.

"I didn‘t mean to ruin everything-" He choked out further, and as he looked up this time around he was met with warm eyes, eyes that were so distinctly his mothers that it made him choke up all over again. He hadn‘t realized how much he had missed his mother.

"You didn‘t ruin anything, Clay. Listen to me," She grabbed him by the face, wiping away some of the tears, "You have every right to be happy, and to be in love and to live your life however you want. And I‘ve worked every day for the last four years to try and ensure that. I'm sorry I couldn‘t prevent this, but I promise we‘ll figure it out together.”

Dream just nodded, wiping at his eyes feeling like that little kid again, but with his mother holding him so closely it didn‘t feel as scary.

~~

George wished he could have accompanied Dream to the airport. After their lunch at the Indian restaurant his mother had insisted he start getting ready for some kind of formal dinner they were going to that same evening.

George had known about it, of course, he had been told about it months ago, but as with so many thighs, it had completely slipped his mind with everything that had been going on lately. And although he had wanted nothing more than to fight his mother on this, to get to say goodbye to Dream at the airport and get just that little bit of extra time with the other, he knew better than to try and get out of it.

He had been neglecting his duties too much lately.

And to be honest, that tiny lazy part of George was glad he didn’t have to make the drive all the way to the airport, and of course there had been the additional bonus of getting to kiss Dream, as often he wanted before the blond had finally insisted on actually having to get going now.

And with his main distraction out of reach George found it much easier to focus on the actual tasks at hand. He started with reorganising his desk, out of everything in his room it was the only thing the cleaning staff was strictly forbidden from touching, but that also meant that out of everything in his room it was the only thing to ever get messy.

The queen hated when that happened, and since she had already been kind of annoyed at George's secrecy, he decided to get started on cleaning up the mess before she had a chance to lecture him on it. In the back of his mind he still had that voice telling him how strange it was that at twenty five he still felt a kind of requirement to please his mother, but he didn’t let that distract him from getting done with cleaning.

He was doing it for his own comfort as well after all.

Afterwards he got dressed in the suit that had been laid out for him. And it definitely needed some more adjustments, the legs of the trousers were a little too long and he found that the buttons and buttonholes on the jacket hadn’t been added yet.

George sighed as he looked himself over in the mirror before moving to open the door, the familiar faces of his tailors already patiently waiting. He let them in. George had been putting off this final fitting for weeks now, and with the dinner being tonight he really didn’t have any other choice than to just get it done with.

“I hope this isn’t too much of an inconvenience for you, your highness,” his tailor said as he started setting up his supplies, his voice raspy as always with that edge of sincerity that George loved about him so much. It was enough to make a smile appear on the princess' face as he stood up on the little stool that was placed in front of him, the tailor immediately getting started in measuring the right length of the trousers.

“It isn’t for me, I just hope it didn’t cause you any problems.” He apologised, meaning it.

“No no, these are just a handful of things we had to check and make sure everything is just right for tonight. You should have seen me in the old days, running around with bolts of fabric trying to sew a whole suit from scratch just hours before an event just because I couldn’t find your father anywhere,” he chuckled at the memory, “He was always off doing something.”

He rolled his eyes as he stood up straight again, visibly struggling. It was hard for George to imagine what he would have been like when he was younger. To George he had always been this older gentleman that was as British as anyone would get.

“I was hoping the King and Queen might let you pass up on tonight,” he then whispered, just for the two of them to hear as he started marking the buttonholes on the jacket. “You’ve been a lot more lively lately, it’s nice to see,” he added.

George wasn’t sure whether or not he was surprised by the observation or not. One on hand he had definitely felt a lot happier and maybe even healthier since all the stress with Dream had blown over, on the other hand though, he hadn’t expected that to be obvious enough for anyone else to notice.

But then again, there wasn’t much that could happen in the palace without at least the rumors reaching the staff.

“I was kind of hoping for that too,” George whispered back, unable to keep the giggles from bubbling out of him. He had honestly started to miss this routine. “But tonight is the least I can do for my parents, god knows how much I’ve been slacking off.”

“No no, it’s important for a young lad like yourself to ‘slack off’ as you put it. Going out with your friend and dedicating yourself to your hobbies and studies is exactly what you should be doing.”

“I’m not sure my father would agree with that,” George countered, the gentleman continuing to pluck at the suit to make sure it fit right. “The country comes first after all.”

“Of course it does,” he agreed, slowing his movements as he took a moment to look George up and down, something in his eyes almost softening. It was a look George learned to recognize, the way the grey in his eyes glimmered just a little bit more in the light when he thought back to his younger years, doing all that with the then prince and now king. “But I can’t help but to wonder if it wouldn’t be beneficial to allow the King a break every now and again too.”

George hadn’t seen much of his father recently, mostly because he himself had been so distracted, but as he thought about it now he really hadn’t heard much from the other. He had seen his mother shortly, but she seems to have been busy lately as well.

Maybe it was good that he was going to this dinner tonight. At least they would get a little time to spend together. And just maybe he would get a chance to tell them about Dream more, and Sapnap.

“That should be all, hand me that jacket and I’ll get started on the alterations right away.” The tailor broke George from his thoughts, the prince hurrying to shrug the suit jacket off.

“And you're sure you’ll get it done by tonight?” He asked, a new excitement bubbling up inside his veins.

“Of course I will, it’s not much just a few-” He started, throwing the jacket over his arm as he already started packing up some of his equipment, but he didn't get far in his conformation as the door to George’s room was thrown open, hitting the wall with a noise that made George flinch.

His father stood in the doorway, and it was clear that George was not the only one surprised to see him. Especially with the clear anger that was painted all over his face, but before George had any time to question his presence as he felt the clear sting of a hand connecting with his cheek.

The force of it sent him stumbling back, but as he found himself still standing on the little stool he stepped into thin air, losing his balance and promptly falling to the ground. The space around him had gone completely quiet, the only sound he could pick up being the blood rushing by his ears as he felt confusion mix with hurt mix with pain.

“If,” His father started, his voice loud, almost commanding, “If you must sneak around with some boy do it behind closed doors, but do not do it in public nor anywhere else any passerby with a camera can see it. I don’t want to see that American in my home ever again, and you better find a way to fix this, no son of the crown is- That.”

His father practically spat, sometime in between tears had started rolling down George’s face as he felt a sense of confusion and dread mix in his gut. The tears felt burning hot where they rolled down the soon to be bruise on his face and as his hand came up to whip them away he winced at the sting of it.

“What-” George started to question. Someone must have seen them, someone must have told the press but George didn’t want to believe that, he didn’t want to believe any of this but as father interrupted him he didn’t have time to question it.

“Do you understand?” The king was still looking down at him, a kind of anger in his eyes that George had never seen before, or at least he had never been the recipient of before.

“Yes,” he eventually forced out, having to swallow a lump in his throat just to muster that single word. And there was no disguising the unsureness of it, the hesitation was clear to everyone in the room but the king didn’t push it further, and for just a moment George was thankful.

He didn’t dare move when he watched his father turn around again, storming out of the room and down the hall, he just stayed completely still for the minutes after. And even when the people around him started to move again he stayed still there on the floor.

Nobody said as much as a single word, it was completely quiet besides the last few things being packed up and before George knew it he was left alone in his room again. And he wanted nothing more than for it to stay like that forever, for him to be swallowed up by his bedroom floor and never have to face any person ever again.

But he wasn’t lucky enough for that to be the case, so instead he got up to go wash his face. He still had a dinner to attend after all.

Chapter Text

George's clothes had been finished right on time, with a bit of time to spare even. But as George paced up and down in his room that extra time turned more into stalling.

Maybe if he stayed in his room, hidden away, his parents would forget about it, about the dinner, about the scandal. Maybe they already left without him, blaming it on his restlessness and only delivering kind regards to the hosts of the dinner.

George had refused to understand why he needed to go from the beginning, he barely knew anyone there so why did he even have to go? Especially now. Everyone in the world will already have seen the pictures, and although he was given the task to fix it, he genuinely didn’t know how to.

In his mind it would just be better to hide away in his room until the rumour got boring, until people moved on to the next big scandal and his slip up was left forgotten. Nothing he had ever done had gone forgotten however, and as he heard the quiet knock on his door he knew that his parents hadn’t forgotten either.

“Honey, are you ready to go yet?” His mother spoke softly, as she usually did. But George was able to see past her calmness, he heard that slight strain in her voice and saw the little tenseness between her brows, she was also nervous about tonight.

“Do I really have to go?” George asked, feeling a strange kind of Déjà-vu in that moment. He could recall so many times when he had asked his mother if he could stay home from school, so many times he had found her in a crowded room to ask to go home. And to think that even at twenty five he was still always looking to her for permission.

“Oh George,” she let the door fall shut behind her, bringing her hands up to hold his face softly and as he closed his eyes he could almost convince himself that everything would be fine. “Tonight is very important to your father, please just do him the favor.”

And with that the discussion was over. George opened his eyes again when he felt the hands disconnect with his face, cold air rushing to his cheeks making him flinch a little. All he wanted was to run back to his bed and hide under the warm covers, but as his mother held the door open for him he forced himself to take a step.

The car ride was weirdly lonely. George and his parents each rode in different cars for safety reasons George never bothered to understand. He had expected to feel relief for every extra minute he didn’t have to face his father, but the longer he sat there alone, watching London pass by outside the window, the more anxious he became.

The moment he stepped out of the car there would be cameras on him. Luckily the dinner itself would take place in a hotel where the press wasn’t allowed, but from experience George knew that just meant that there would be even more paparazzi camping out in front of the hotel.

As far as George could tell tonight was meant to be more of a casual thing, as casual as any dinner with the royal family can be anyways. Some politicians or military people or simply friends of his father had invited them to try some new wines or something. And George really wanted to be happy that it was just that, that there would be no American idiot attending, that there wouldn’t be any champagne pyramids and that there wouldn’t be camera lenses there to judge him. But somehow the thought of having to sit through an entire dinner with a bunch of old British aristocrats that all must have already seen the picture of him making out with another man, the son of the American president nonetheless, was a million times scarier than any alternative.

George felt the car come to a stop, and in the same instant he saw a flash go off, and then another and another, and if he hadn’t been sitting behind a blacked out window he was sure he would already have gone blind. He didn’t want to do this. He wanted to hide away forever, just like he always had, because at least like that he couldn’t mess things up.

But all of George’s quiet prayer went ignored as he heard the car door being opened for him, the flashes becoming a million times brighter as the sound of clicking cameras overwhelmed him.

And as much as he hated it, there was something familiar to it.

George climbed out of the car slowly, finding his parents already outside waiting for him.

He put on a smile as he walked over to them, something he had practised a million times over. Because at least that was something he knew how to do, he knew how to position himself to allow the best pictures, how to carry that polite kind of smile and he knew how to ignore meaningless words that were screaming at him.

George drowned out all the noise around him, focusing fully on his parents as they led the way inside and onto the elevator. He had hoped to get even just a moment to breathe, to collect himself but with the tension that sat between him and his father his wish went ungranted.

And as they walked into a nicely decorated room on the highest floor of the hotel he lost all hope for even just a minute of peace tonight.

Right as they entered the room he could feel everyone's eyes on him, the majority of the guests were already there and although they tried to keep their staring discret George could still feel it. The room didn’t stay quiet for long however, because just as they entered the room fully George caught a sight of his uncle.

“You made it! I was already starting to think I would have to make it through this whole thing by myself.” His voice was loud, full of joy and without a trace of care for the fact that the hosts were just a few meters away.

Price James, out of all his relatives he was the one George had never quite managed to get close to. To be fair, George wasn’t very close with any of his family. If he had to choose he would say he was closest to his cousins, but even those he only ever talked to when the holidays called for it.

Maybe it was James' humor or the way he always rode jokes out to the very end but over the years George had learned it was better to just keep a polite distance than to try and figure his uncle out. George hadn’t known that he would also be here, and from the fact that George didn’t spot any other of his family members it felt an awful lot like he had invited himself.

“It’s good to see you too, brother,” George’s father said, and it didn’t even sound like a lie.

“It’s nice to see the whole family too, feels like ages,” James continued on to George and his mother, giving the queen a quick kiss on the cheek before stopping right in front of George. And George hated how he had to angle his chin up to meet the other eye. “You’ve not grown at all since the last time I saw you.”

George had already been waiting for the greeting, he heard it every time they met. He has tried over the years to find the best answer to it, laughing along, challenging him on the comment, just walking away, but he somehow still hasn’t found the best response to it. But today George wasn’t even given enough time to try and find an answer as James already opened his mouth again.

“But you’ve been keeping awfully busy, haven’t you?” James said, a laugh bubbling out of him as he nudged George with his elbow before turning back to his brother. “I always told you, you shouldn’t have settled for the library girl, because there is no way in hell that gene came from our blood.”

James didn’t seem to care that the queen was standing right next to him, or the fact that his voice was loud enough to carry through the entire room, but then again, why would he? What wasn’t recorded never happened, it seemed to be the motto he lived by.

George’s father didn’t say anything, he never did when it came to his brother. And neither did Geoge’s mother. George knew that she must hate James just as much as he did, all those little jokes and taunts must get to her to some degree, but she never let it show.

He wasn’t sure why, usually his mother was the first person to stand up for herself but there were so many things that went on in their family that George just never got to be a part of. Be it because he slept through it or because he was too tired to listen, there were a handful of things that he just accepted, and James was one of them.

It didn’t matter how much he hated that little comment, the way he was constantly belittled by the other or the way he lacked any manners, George wasn’t allowed to cause a scene.

So instead he bit his tongue and followed behind the rest of his family as the guest slowly made their way to the dinner table.

George was just glad that he wasn’t seated right next to James, that misfortune fell to his mother however. She sat to George’s right while to his left an older gentleman took his seat. If he tried hard enough he was sure he could figure out who that was, but in all honesty he wasn’t invested enough to try.

The event itself was just as boring as George had expected it to be, and that was a good thing. Some guy gave an endlessly long tost about these new wines and what a pleasure it was to welcome back the royal family and all those things that helped distract from the scandal that had gone down earlier that day.

It comforted George to know that people, outside of James of course, had the dignity to ignore it.

“How have your studies been going then?” George was suddenly pulled out of his own thoughts by the man beside him. He hadn’t even realised that the first starter had been pleased before him, something that looked so utterly inedible that it must have cost a fortune.

“I have to admit, I have been neglecting them a bit, but I expect to get back to them soon,” George hurried out an answer. He was hoping to keep the sociolazing to an absolute minimum today, but as he heard that ever so familiar chuckle he knew he wouldn’t be getting out of this that easily.

“Been focusing on other things, haven’t you?” He heard James ask, or more state, the amusing tone in his voice left little room for questions. He was practically leaning over George’s mother to spectate him, George watching the way her patience was running thin. “Who would have thought that the little prince of England that doesn’t leave his room likes secretly getting busy.”

He laughed loudly once more, heads around the table turning to look at him and George was starting to wonder if he had already had more to drink than the champagne at the entrance. No one in their family handled alcohol all that well, usually they also choose to stick to one or two drinks only when the environment called for it.

James always seemed to be the exception to that rule, as usual.

There was almost a kind of second hand embarrassment lingering in the air, it was only rivaled by the shared awareness of everyone around the table that it wasn't their place to speak up.

If James crossed a line it was the king's job to say something or maybe even the hosts, but for everyone else etiquette ruled that they laugh along, and they did.

And as they did George found it more difficult to make out if they were actually just trying to be polite or if the embarrassment he felt in the air was in fact just from him.

“We were all young once,” an older lady at the end of the table suddenly says, George’s eyes snapping over to her, and for that second of silence before she continues George feels something painfully close to relief. “I rebelted by joining the rugby team when my mother wanted me to dance, but getting handsy with another boy is definitely also a choice.”

Another round of laughter ran through the table, and George felt that annoying kind of hurt settle in his heart, not the one that actually hurt him, but rather the kind that made him feel stupid.

If this was the way the Aristocracy was treading the whole thing he didn’t even want to know what the public thought of him, or worse the tabloid. They must be having a field trip ripping into every part of his private life, over analyzing every interaction he has ever had trying to find a clue of where it all could have gone wrong.

He didn't know how to react, didn't know what was expected of him. The people around him laughing made him feel like he was also meant to laugh along, but a part of his brain was screaming at him to say something, to stand up for himself.

Looking over to his mother didn't clarify things as much as he would have hoped for. She was in the middle of taking a sip, moving slowly as if she hoped that if she was slow enough the people around would forget she was there.

George’s father was no help either, he was too far for the young prince to assume his expression, but between the laughter George imagined he could make out the low chuckle of the king.

“Who knew, all it took was a champagne shower for the prince of England to fall in love with an American boy.” Another man around the table said.

“Don't be ridiculous” George's father spoke up after all, George shrinking into himself, he knew better than to get his hopes up this time around. “No one said anything about love. George is too young to know anything about that anyways, so I don't mind letting him play his games. Truth be told, George actually has his eyes on quite the nice young lady.”

“Oh! So the American is just the side chick, do tell us more, George!” James urged, letting himself be poured another drink, and George really wished he would stop.

“She is the Scottish one, isn't that right, the daughter of an Earl up there.” His mother said, most definitely trying to help but all it did was make George feel worse.

He could see the pain in her expression at having to play along but it didn't seem to be enough to actually make her stop.

Out of everyone in that room she was meant to be the one that protected him, to shield him from the humiliation, but then again, George had always wished for more independence. Maybe this was his punishment for being so ungrateful.

“Please excuse me,” George blurted out just then when all eyes had refocused on him.

He didn't wait for the permission from either of his parents, nor did he stick around for whatever comment James came up with, he just hurried out of the room.

He didn't care for the way this might have reflected negatively on his parents, or how it might have made him look, or even for the staff member informing him that he wasn't allowed down that hallway.

George ignored it all, as he continued down the hallway until he couldn't hear the commotion in the other room anymore, and only then did he come to a stop.

He leaned against the wall, burying his face in his hands as he felt the tears finally start to flow. It was a mix of hurt, embarrassment and shame, and logically he knew he had nothing to be ashamed of, but he couldn't help all the emotion swirling together in his gut.

It was against his better judgment that he reached for his phone, wiping away some of the tears as he clicked onto a familiar contact.

George didn't think twice before sending a message, usually he would hide beneath his blanket in moments like this, when the world got too much and he didn't trust himself not to do something stupid, sleep was oftentimes the only escape he knew.

But he wasn't home, and he felt so utterly helpless, he couldn't stop himself from sliding down the wall and bringing his knees up to his face, burying it in them as he wished he wouldn't go ignored.

Chapter Text

Dream sat at the table, Sapnap right next to him and both Drista and his mother opposite them. They had just finished lunch, each of them still poking at their respective pieces of pie as they laughed about a joke Dream couldn’t even remember anymore.

It was nice, a stark contrast to the stress he had felt just hours before. But being surrounded by the people he loved the most helped take his mind off everything, although the lack of George’s presence was definitely noticeable, and he was sure not only to him but also Sapnap.

But no one brought it up, it was what was best for each of their mental states at the moment, he was sure neither he nor his mother could use another reminder of what was at stake and how Dream’s outing could affect it. And neither Drista nor Sapnap were in a place to give any more support than they already had, and it had been more than Dream would have ever wanted to ask of them.

“I think we’ll head back to my room now,” Dream said after a short silence had settled over them, finishing the last bite of his pie as Sapnap followed suit, making a show of eating every last crumb left on his plate.

“That’s alright,” his mother nodded as Dream stacked the rest of the plates that were still on the table. “I still have work, so I probably won’t have time for dinner but maybe you boys can order Pizza and have it with Drista?”

“Sure,” Dream and Sapnap said in unison. Over the years pizza had kind of become their crisis food, it had become something almost comforting in times of trouble.

“And Clay,” His mother stopped him just as he was about to get up. “Maybe you can join me tomorrow, just so we can sit down with the team and try and figure something out?”

She said it quietly, not quite quiet enough where the other two wouldn’t have heard it but rather as if she was afraid of startling Dream. As if she was scared of breaking the calmness they had so carefully crafted around themselves to keep any reminder of the outside world away.

It didn’t help much however, the mention alone being enough to make the anxiety rise inside his chest again, but before he could fully panic, or even come up with a response he was interrupted by the vibration of his phone.

He had put his phone on ‘do not disturb’ earlier that day in hopes of keeping any unwanted reminders away from him. And there weren’t a lot of people that could break though the setting, all of them in fact sitting at the table with him currently.

Well, all of them except one.

Dream hurried to pull his phone out of his pocket, his mother’s question long forgotten as he struggled to unlock his phone, finding exactly one new message.

Please get me out of here

George’s message stared back at him, a simple six word request that made a whole new kind of panic rise inside of him. Sapnap had leaned over to look at what had suddenly drawn all of Dream’s attention, and Dream could practically feel the way he tensed beside him.

The message was far too ominous for Dream’s liking, there were far too many circumstances that could have led to that request, and all that Dream’s brain was currently coming up with were far from comforting.

“I’m flying back to London.” Dream suddenly blurted out, jumping from his seat and if it hadn’t been for Sapnap grabbing a hold of his arm he was sure he would have already been halfway in the plane before his mother had even had a chance to question him.

“Why?” She asked, an edge to her voice that made Dream flinch the slightest bit. The little bubble of comfort they had built had officially popped. “Clay, you can’t keep flying back and forth like that! This is your home.”

“But George-”

“-Is an adult man. I know this isn’t easy for either of you but right now you need to focus on yourself.”

“You mean on you? You want me to focus on you and your reputation!” Dream knew he'd regret this. He knew it from the way his mother’s demeanour changed in an instant, going from what he recognised as his mother to what he knew to be the President.

But this is how it has always been, without his father there to be the voice of reason he and his mother were just too stubborn and hot heated to have productive discussions, especially when they were stressed.

“George has been in the public's eyes since before he was born, you couldn’t start to comprehend how he must be feeling. I need to make sure that he’s okay,” Dream said, with an outwardly anger that was so like him.

He didn’t wait for an answer or any kind of permission this time, he just left. He didn’t pack anything either, didn’t throw a handful of clothes into a suitcase or even as much as grabbing proper trousers. He only grabbed his wallet and a jacket and ran out of the White House. Dream didn’t care that he was just in sweatpants and a pyjama top, nothing like that mattered to him now.

He was however surprised when he climbed into the car and Sapnap wasn’t there to join him. Dream didn’t tell the driver to wait. Sapnap was far more complex than Dream sometimes cared to realize, if he had wanted to come along he would be there, but it seemed he had his reasons to stay back.

~~

Arriving back at Buckingham palace made a strange kind of comfort wash over Dream, it felt an awful lot like coming home and a part of Dream felt guilty for that. But at this time he didn’t have the mind to actually care about that, he needed to get to George.

It was the same guy that welcomed him at the door as last time, although he didn’t look at all pleased seeing him.

“Mr. Chase, I thought we asked you to announce your visits,” he said, Dream feeling his gaze on himself as his choice of clothing was most definitely being judged, he was starting to regret not having put something else on.

“Next time,” Dream assured, hoping that his american charm was enough to calm his anger a bit.

“Follow me, Mr.Chase.” Dream didn’t want to argue even when the man started leading him in the complete opposite direction of where he knew George's room was. They were walking in a part of the castle Dream hadn’t been to before, to be fair, the palace was huge and the only part Dream had really been in was George’s room.

The man before him came to a sudden stop, Dream struggling to not run into him. “Here we are,” the man said, mostly to himself before knocking at the door they had stopped in front of.

The only thought circling inside Dream’s head was that this wasn’t the door to George’s room. But he desperately needed to get to George’s room.

He had texted George back right before getting on his flight, telling him that he was already on his way. But the seven hour flight had been too much agony already, every minute that he wasn’t with George was making his skin crawl in ways he couldn't remember ever feeling before.

Dream felt almost pathetic, being so desperate to find George. He didn’t remember himself being this dependent on the other, but in the last month something in their relationship had just shifted, even before they had officially gotten together, even before he had figured out that George was Gogy, something had changed.

Something that was making standing in front of this door now, a door he didn’t even know where it led to, so unimaginably frustrating.

The call for them to enter came very delayed, as if whoever was inside had taken a long time to decide if they actually wanted to let themselves be interrupted. In the end, the man next to Dream opened the door, stepping inside and seemingly not caring if Dream followed or not. He did.

“Mr.Chase once again has chosen to enrich our lives with his presents,” the man said, his voice monotone. Dream wanted to feel offended, but he barely had a mind to, not when he finally realised who was in the room with them.

The queen was sitting close to a window in a night robe, a drink sitting on the little table next to her. This wasn’t her bedroom, it looked more like a living room, or maybe a meeting room of some kind.

Her eyes traveled from the man over to Dream, and he couldn’t help but flinch the slightest bit, suddenly feeling very underdressed. But as she kept studying him he also noticed the dark circles under her eyes, she didn’t look all that well.

And maybe it was just because of the limited light in the room, the only source being the few rays that shone in through the open door and a standing lamp in one of the corners, but Dream could practically see that the queen had most definitely not gotten a good night's sleep in a while.

“Clay,” She suddenly addressed him, Dream’s eyes snapping back to hers. “You know where George’s room is.”

It took him a moment to register the words, and another to understand their meaning, but once he did he took off in an instant. It was all the prompting he had needed to run down the hall, not caring what the people he passed must have thought about him, he just couldn’t bring himself to care in that moment.

When he came to a stop in front of the right door this time he had to struggle not to fall over, the world spinning for a moment as he stood up straight, but just as he reached out for the door knob it was pulled away, the door flying open as he suddenly found himself face to face with George.

“Hi,” Dream got out, still panting trying to catch his breath.

George didn’t find it in himself to speak, instead pulling Dream into the room by his shoulders before throwing door shut again, wrapping his arms around Dreams neck as if it was his last life line.

Dream followed the motion, holding onto George tightly in the embrace as he allowed himself to enjoy the moment for just a short while.

“Are you alright? I was so worried.” Dream was the first to speak, pushing George away just enough to be able to grab his face in both of his hands, looking it over to make sure he was okay. There was clear evidence of tears still on his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” George choked out, Dream saw the way his eyes started to fill with tears again, but they didn’t yet spill over. “I didn’t know what to do, I just wanted to get to see you again.”

“It’s okay George, we’ll figure it out.” Dream tried to comfort him, to assure him, but from the way George started to shake it didn’t seem to be getting through to him.

“There is nothing to figure out, the whole world knows I’m gay and my father is angry at me and-”

“Well you are, and your father can stay as mad as he wants to but there is nothing he can do to change it,” Dream interrupted him, he had hoped that the world would finally register with George, making him understand that there was no point in stressing over what was already done. Neither of them could take back what had happened, they just needed to figure out where to go from here, do they deny it? Do they own it? Do they just ignore it?

“You don’t get it,” George suddenly said, his voice much louder than it had to be as he broke away from Dream, out of reach. “My father practically already picked out a perfectly respectable wife for me and there is nothing we can do about it.”

The statement hung heavy between the two of them, filling the room with a kind of silence that was almost choking Dream.

“He can’t do that,” Dream suddenly said, his voice almost questioning in a way, as if even he wasn’t sure if it was truly as impossible as he would have wished it to be. “George, you are a grown man, he can't do that.” He tried to doubledown, but he realised that maybe it had been too much as he watched the tears finally roll down George’s cheeks.

“You don’t get it-”

“Then explain it to me.” Dream’s voice had also risen in volume, as if he was challenging George, and maybe he was. “I just flew over the fucking atlantic ocean to be here, tell me what you want.”

“I want to break up.” Another silence followed, one in which Dream questioned if he had actually heard George right, but he wasn’t given much time as George continued. “I want to break up. And that’s a choice I made because I know it’s for the better.”

The words sounded so rehearsed, pre planned, as if George had spent the entire time Dream had been on that flight practicing. The entire time Dream had been stressing, trying to find the words to make everything better.

“Better for who?” Dream forced out, feeling the tears now burn behind his eyes too. He felt once again helpless, like all the decisions in his life were being made by someone else, and he wasn’t even being consulted. “Sure as hell not for me, and not for you either. What is your plan here? Will you marry that perfectly respectable girl and just pretend for the rest of your life? That's not fair, not to you nor would it be to her.”

Dream almost spat out the words, a guilty part of him almost enjoying the way George stammered, trying to find a way to counter him.

“Dream, I have a responsibility to my family,” George finally came up with, and Dream wasn’t sure if he should interpret his tone of voice as pleading or desperate.

“So do I, but you can’t keep putting their happiness above your own, that’s not healthy, George.” Dream’s hands had started trembling some time ago with the need to reach out, the tears streaming down his face not seeming to want to slow down.

“Dream-” George seemed to have the same need to reach out, but he too stopped himself, still standing just out of reached as he watched dream practically fall apart in front of him.

“I get it George, I do it all the time.” Dream wiped at his eyes, a painful smile making it onto his face as he couldn’t help but laugh at the situation he currently found himself in. “It sometimes feels like I put my entire life on hold for my mother’s career. Ever since my father died I’ve been so focused on making life better for her and my sister, that I’ve completely forgotten about myself. I let my entire childhood slip away, the only thing I have left from then is Sapnap, Sapnap and you.”

“Dream, I didn’t realise.” George finally reached out, pulling Dream into his arms. “I’m so sorry.” George spoke into his hair, and Dream wasn’t even sure what exactly he was apologising for, but it almost didn’t matter because whatever it was Dream had already long forgiven him.

“I’m so scared I’m going to cost her the election.” Dream finally voiced the thought he had been so scared of for the last few days. The reminder of it made his body shake with a whole new wave of tears. George held him through it all, whispering reassurances to him that Dream barely made out over the sound of blood rushing through his ears.

Eventually Dream calmed enough for George to let go of him, his hands coming up to hold the blonds face, and something about the returned gesture made Dream giggle, a laughter soon bubbling out of George as well.

“You’re so stupid, I was about to say something supportive but now you messed me up,” George complained, jokingly nudging him in the side, Dream just laughing harder.

“No no, you can still say it,” he assured as he calmed down again, his hands almost instinctively finding their place on George’s waist, George’s hands coming up to rest on Dream’s shoulders. An almost calm feeling settled over them, one that was only disturbed by the frown forming on George’s face.

“I don’t want to break up actually,” George whispered out as if it was a confession, Dream’s expression softening.

“I figured that hadn’t actually been your idea,” he whispered back.

“I’m just so confused on what to do now, you know?” He looked up at Dream though his eyelashes Dream once again noticing how long they actually were.

“It’s okay, will figure it out together, just-” Dream paused shortly in thought, one of his hands coming up to brush over George’s eyes, just light enough to graze over the other’s lashes. “Please don’t give up on us, on this thing we got going.” Dream pulled back his hand quickly as he watched George’s eyes flutter open again, all those colours mixed in them making Dream want to just kiss him.

“I won't” George said, his voice surprisingly firm. “I get so caught up in my own head when I’m alone, but I do- I do love you Dream, I’m sorry I was being so stupid.”

“Hey! Don’t call my boyfriend stupid, or I’ll have to- like, beat you up or something”

George broke out in laughter again, Dream not taking long to follow. Life was so easy when it was just them, just the two of them alone in a room with no one to judge them. Dream secretly wished it would stay like this forever, but he knew better than to wish for things he couldn’t have, so instead he just leaned down, placing the shortest of kisses on George’s temple.

And when George leaned up to place a kiss on the corner of his mouth he didn’t try and fight it.

Chapter Text

When George woke up he felt strangely sober. It wasn’t even like he had had anything to drink the day before, but there was a kind of clarity in his mind that he hadn’t felt in what felt like ages.

And maybe it was just because he found it so easy to sleep in Dream’s arms, but when he slowly climbed out of bed he almost didn’t feel afraid of the day that was to come. Dream was still asleep, something rather unusual, but George assumed it was just a result of the exhaustion of spending so much time on a plane.

It was only around seven in the morning if the digital clock on his bedside table could be trusted, and George knew his father wouldn’t allow him to avoid him for much longer. It would probably also be better to get Dream out of his room, and especially his bed for when his father finally stormed in here, but Dream looked so peaceful in slumber that George didn’t have the heart to wake him.

Instead he made his way into the bathroom, starting on his routine to get ready. Although his mind felt much clearer this morning there were still a lot of things George felt unsure about, and the anxieties attached to those thoughts made a kind of nervous energy buzz inside his veins.

He really just wanted to get all of this over with, all the public statements, all the discussions with his parents, all the judging looks from people he didn’t even know.

But at last, he first had to deal with all the unpleasantries before he would hopefully someday be able to just sleep in next to Dream and not have to worry about so many things at a time. When George stepped back into the room Dream was already awake, a smile spreading over his face as soon as he saw George.

“I was already starting to worry you had been kidnapped, it’s not very usual for you to wake up before me,” Dream joked, already opening his arms for George to come back and pulling him closer. “I’m glad I’m here,” Dream whispered into the prince's hair as soon as he was settled, George not trusting himself to put into words how much he agreed.

He had never been good at expressing his gratitude for other people, he had studied how to be polite and how to excuse himself properly but something about getting a real, genuine ‘thank you’ over his lips had just always been so difficult. George hoped the way he tightened his hold on the other would be enough to show how much he agreed.

Sadly however, the moment was cut short as there was a knock at the door. Dream tensed under him, but George didn’t even care enough to raise his head as he heard the voice come in muffled through the door.

“The king requests your presence in the meeting room,” he heard the woman on the other side say.

“Tell him I’m not meeting him before breakfast,” George called back, the irritation in his voice solely directed at his father and not at the woman outside his door.

“He said it was very urgent,” she tried to argue, her voice already sounding very unsure, George almost feeling bad for her. She was getting caught up in the crossfire of something that didn’t even involve her.

“And so is my breakfast, have them bring it to me!” George countered, keeping his voice steady and just the slightest bit commanding. He was desperate for even just a bit more time to wake up fully, and the conversation that would be waiting for him in the meeting room was one he truly couldn’t muster with an empty stomach.

The lady didn’t say anything more, her footsteps echoing quietly off the walls of the hallway, and when George lifted his head up from Dream’s chest he found the other already looking at him.

“You could have been a little nicer about it,” he commented, brushing the hair out of George’s face.

“I know, sorry.” He sighed, rolling off Dream to lay down on his back, staring up at the plain ceiling.

When he had been younger he had put up glow in the dark stars on that very same ceiling, over the years they all fell off, but if George really concentrated he could almost convince himself that he could still see where the glue residue had stuck.

He got the feeling that Dream wanted to say something more, he could feel the others eyes on him, but unfortunately, or maybe it was for the better, Dream got interrupted by new footsteps making their way towards George’s room.

It was easy to guess that it was in fact not their breakfast being rolled in, and maybe if it had been his father George would have made an effort to hide dream, to push him off the bed or maybe hide him in the bathroom, but it was in fact his mother that opened the door.

She didn’t seem surprised when she saw the two of them, Dream on the other hand did, sitting up straight and, probably subconsciously, putting some more space between the two of them.

“Your father really wants to speak with you,” his mother said.

“I have nothing to say to him,” George countered, a clear lie his mother most definitely was able to look right through.

“You should be glad that it’s me coming to get you and not him,” she said, clearly reaching the last strand of patience. George followed her line of sight just to find the nervous expression on Dream’s face. There had been the clear underlying thread of a different possibility, if it had been his father coming in here to get him, and if he had been the one to see the two of them in bed now, George was sure this conversation would be going very differently.

“Get dressed and meet us.”

“We’ll be there in twenty minutes,” George finally agreed, hanging his head as he sat up further.

“In ten,” his mother practically ordered before throwing the door shut again, George hearing Dream let go of a breath.

“You could have been a lot nicer now too,” Dream said before the silence had a chance to stretch. George put his head in his hands, he was a lot bigger of a mess that he had realized after all.

“I’m scared, Dream,” he admitted, quickly adding, “Not of my parents, just of everything around it.”

“Hey now, I told you last night, you don’t have to do this alone, I’m right here with you.” Dream put a hand on his shoulder, in a way grounding George as he tried to focus on what he needed to do now.

He just had to get dressed and talk to his parents, it wasn’t even that daunting of a task, it was just a simple conversation. George took a deep breath before stealing a quick kiss from Dream and getting dressed.

A problem he hadn’t talked into account was that Dream didn’t have anything to wear.

George was sure as hell not going to face his parents alone, but seeing the only clothing options Dream had was to stay in the same shirt and sweatpants from not only last night but also the entire flight, or trying to fit into a, for sure way to small, suit from George he was starting to feel those anxieties rising inside him again.

“At least you're authentic,” George tried to see the positives.

“Come on now, I already fumbled my first impression with them, this can’t possibly make it any worse.”

George desperately hoped that he was right, at least George had made sure to pick out a nice suit that was respectable enough for them to hopefully not disown him completely but that was also casual enough to not seem desperate.

They made their way to the meeting room, Dream being surprisingly well at seemingly not caring about the openly strange looks they were getting from every staff member they passed. George on the other hand was not good at it at all, actively sinking into himself with every judging stare that was thrown in his direction.

Dream had tried to grab a hold of his hand, but George had refused the touch.

They could already see from a distance that the door to the meeting room was open, and as they approached it George took one last deep breath, but as they walked in it almost didn’t matter, and nighter did all his mental preparation, not when he heard that overbearing laughter.

“Didn’t even care enough to find your boy toy something proper to wear?”

“What is he doing here?!” George practically exploded at the sight of his uncle. James was lazily sitting on one of the sofas with what George could only assume to be a mug of coffee in his hand. The king was sitting at the other end of the sofa while George’s mother was standing off to the side by the windows, her expression unreadable.

“I thought it would be good if we got a second opinion on the matter.” George’s father spoke up, his voice leaving little room to argue, George did it anyway.

“Not from him!” He pointed at James almost accusingly, the grin on his face only making George’s blood boil. He wanted to get out of there, a conversation like this was already unbearable with only his parents, but having to deal with James on top of that would only make it worse.

He tried to take a step backwards, but to his dismay he found a hand on his lower back stopping him.

“I’m here,” Dream reminded him, giving the slightest push to move him in the direction of his family, and George could do little but to comply, sitting down on the sofa opposite to his father, Dream sitting down close to him but not too close, and he was glad for that.

On the little table before them there was practically a breakfast set up, sandwiches and some cut up fruit as well as cups and a teapot. And as much as George had previously insisted on getting his breakfast he found that he didn’t have much of an appetite now. He assumed Dream must have been half starving, he had arrived well past dinner time the night before and with them talking everything though both of them had completely forgotten about getting Dream something proper to eat.

But the blond didn’t reach for anything to eat either, probably too awkward to do so. Maybe George could order some indian food later for the both of them, or maybe they could just run of together and beg the family that run that restaurant to take them is.

“I’m Clay Chase, we already met but I thought a new introduction would be appropriate,” Dream was the first to speak again, addressing the king before turning over to look at James. “And of course it’s nice to meet you too.”

“James is the name,” the older Prince answered, his smile wavering the slightest bit as he looked Dream up and down. “Who knew George was into blonds.”

“It’s none of your business who I’m into,” George hissed out.

“It would be very nice if you would announce your visits, Mr. Chase.” The king chose to ignore both of them, focusing his attention on Dream.

“Your wife already gave me the lecture, I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, sorry,” Dream said, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous chuckle leaving him as he looked over to George’s mother, and George didn’t miss the way her expression softened the slightest bit. Maybe she didn’t dislike him as much as George assumed.

“Well then, there is not much of a point in beating around the bush,” the king decided then, “George, I would like to keep this conversation in the family, maybe your friend can go have breakfast in the meantime, or maybe go shopping for something more appropriate to wear.”

“D-Clay is staying.” George felt his voice raised higher than it had to, a new fear settling in his mind, he couldn’t do this alone. His hand reached for Dream’s, interlocking their fingers together. He watched the way his fathers brows drew together in a frown, but George wasn’t about to backdown. “And he’s not my friend, he's my boyfriend.”

“Oh! So it’s official, official? Did you already decide which one of you is going to wear the dress at the wedding?”

“James please,” George’s mother interrupted, this whole conversation already derailing.

“I was just wondering.” James raised his hands in a fake surrender, it took everything in George not to just walk out.

“Either way,” George’s father tried to get them back on track. “Clay, I am sure you are a lovely man, but I hope you understand why I don’t want to welcome you into my family.”

“I don’t.” Dream answered simply, a lot quicker than anybody in the room had clearly expected. Even George found his eyes snapping over to Dream in surprise. “I don’t think you understand it, but I love your son.”

The king was clearly taken aback by the boldness of the statement and the directness it was said with. Maybe he also simply just hadn't expected that kind of sureness from Dream.

“Well, I think we all just need to take a step back and not jump to big words like love-” James filled the silence when the king didn’t and George felt his last bit of patience run out.

“Leave James.” George cut him off, glaring daggers at him, for once not caring if he got in trouble with his father. “This has nothing to do with you so just get out.”

He had raised his voice again, and what came as a surprise even to him was that clear edge his voice healed, the one that left no room to argue. George could see James thinking it over, if he actually wanted to he could pof course fight it, but even James realized that George wasn't going to drop it this time, and so he got to his feet.

“This is all boring anyways.”

A kind of calmness settled over the room when the door fell shut again, one he was sure even his father appreciated. With James gone George’s mother finally joined the conversation with her full attention, sitting down next to her husband.

“George, we are just trying to protect you. There are so many things in this world we can’t control, it’s better to stick to the things that history has proven to work.” His mother started off, the king finishing her thought.

“One of them is that the prince marries the princess.”

George felt himself cringe at the thought, his skin crawling in a way that made him question how in the world he could have thought that to be even just a possibility to choose last night.

“Just because something hasn’t been done before doesn’t mean that it shouldn’t be allowed,” Dream jumped in again, this time receiving a full on glare from the king for speaking when it wasn’t his turn to.

“You aren’t a prince, this isn’t something you have the authority to speak on Mr. Chase.”

“But I wouldn’t be happy with a woman, it wouldn’t be fair.” George tried to get through to his mother, to at least make her understand. But patience had never been a strong suit in his family and it seemed his father had grown tired of this back and forth.

“I don’t care. You have a responsibility to this family and to this country, your only job is to have an heir to continue the bloodline.”

“Who cares about the fucking bloodline?” George was growing irritated. He didn’t want to take it personal, he had convinced himself that his father didn’t mean it like that and that it was just his own taught beliefs coming in the way of the love George knew he had for him. But the words still stung, they hurt.

“I do, and unless you continue-”

“Do you know how many blood transfusions I’ve had to have in my life? I barely have a drop of royal blood left in me anyways. We can always adopt, slap my name on a piece of paper and you’ll have your heir.”

“That’s not how things work, George.” His father was getting visibly annoyed, “You will not marry a man, and I don’t care if that makes you miserable the rest of your life.” His father practically exploded.

“I do,” George’s mother suddenly spoke up, her voice filled with pure anger. George couldn’t recall a time he had seen her this upset, clear betrayal painted all over her face. “He is still our son, and I’d be damned if I allowed him to make a decision that would just leave him unhappy for the rest of his life.”

George felt suddenly overwhelmed by the argument taking place in front of him, the tight hold Dream still had on his hand being the only thing keeping him grounded. And then the hold loosened until Dream fully let go, standing up.

George was confused, looking up to see Dream walking over to the windows and coming to a stop there, looking down at the street below with a kind of amazement.

“What is it?” The king demanded, looking close to actually throwing Dream out of the castle and never allowing him back in.

“There are people,” Dream said, “A lot.”

George didn’t quite understand, and so he got up as well, his mother following suit as they looked out the window beside Dream. Below, in front of the gates of Buckingham Palace people had gathered. It wasn’t the normal tourists, instead it was people waving both the union jack as well as pride flags.

George’s hand found Dream’s again, needingthe touch to ground himself as a completely different feeling overwhelmed him.

“There here for you,” his mother said quietly, amazement sparkling behind her eyes too. “For the two of you.”

George’s father had finally decided to join them, a quiet gasp leaving him as he saw the crowd that had formed on the street.

“Don’t you think you can allow a little modernity into this family?” the queen asked him, one of her hands coming up to smooth over the fabric of her husband's suits. “You also broke the rules when you asked me to marry you.”

There was the slightest hint of a smile on the king’s face, but just for a moment before it was replaced by a sigh, and as he looked up to meet George’s eyes the prince couldn’t help but hold his breath.

His father’s eyes switched between him and Dream until they finally stopped on the American, George’s heart all but bursting with relief as he heard his father’s final decision. “You better take good care of my son.”

Chapter Text

Even with the king more or less giving him and George his blessing, Dream still felt like he was fighting to earn the other’s approval. In the days that followed their meeting with the king things had started changing pretty rapidly.

Mainly, Dream and George had gotten stuck doing another photo shooting. This one luckily hadn’t been in the gardens since it was still fairly cold outside, instead they had been sat around a nicely set table in the winter garden posing at tea time.

Dream had to admit when he and George got to look over the pictures, the royal family really did know how to present themselves. They looked like a perfect couple in the pictures, enjoying a perfectly respectable cup of tea.

In the back of his mind Dream could see past it, see how this was a final attempt by the king to make their relationship ‘appropriate’ for the public to see. But Dream almost didn’t care, not when he saw how excited George was about the pictures.

And they fulfilled their purpose just fine. In a matter of hours after the official royal account posted them, nearly all pictures of Dream and George in the back of a car had been buried under pictures of them enjoying sandwiches and tea.

Dream’s new duties didn’t end at only pictures however, he also had to accompany George and his parents to a bunch of events in the days following the announcement. In the king’s words this was to ‘establish his place in the family’.

The appearances were easy enough though. They all went to some sporting event that one of George's cousins was participating in and Dream and George made a point of going to the animal shelter again. It was all hard work, Dream wasn’t used to this much attention on him all the time, and neither was George, but at the same time there was almost something mindless to it.

It wasn’t like the work he did for his mother, he didn’t have to overthink every word he said to make sure no one could miss understand them, here all he had to do was look pretty right besides George and that was enough.

Dream didn’t want to think about his other responsibilities though, he didn’t want to compare these two lives he had kind of gotten stuck in the middle of. He knew that his mother wasn’t happy about him being in the UK for this long, especially not since election date was arriving quickly.

She hadn’t brought it up again, but she hadn’t been talking to Dream much in general, probably too focused on her last campaigns. It didn’t help the guilt that was trying to sneak it’s way into Dream’s consciousness.

“Is everything alright?” George’s voice pulled Dream out of his own head. The brunet stepped out of the bathroom and made his way over to sit down besides Dream on the bed, the early rays of sunlight catching on the droplets dripping down his freshly washed hair.

They hadn’t been openly forbidden from sharing a room, but both had agreed that it would be for the better to keep things a bit lowkey inside the castle until the king got a bit more used to the current situation. Dream did however make a point of sneaking into George’s room every morning to wake him up.

More selfishly, so he got to watch the way his eyes twitched when the first sunlight of the day hit them. It was something he wasn’t able to stop himself from doing even if he tried.

“It’s nothing,” Dream tried to brush off the other’s worries, but it didn’t seem like George would let him get away that easily.

“Don’t be like that, Dream. There is something on your mind and I want to know what it is.”

Dream sighed, sinking a little deeper into the mattress below him, and when he felt George move to lie on top of him he knew the other wouldn’t be dropping it.

“I feel like I’m abandoning my mother by being here,” Dream confessed, hearing the slightest surprised ‘Oh’ coming from George before continuing. “I mean, I know that technically this is her job, that it is her responsibility to take care of her campaign and everything, but last time- Last time I was there for every part of the way, I campaigned right beside her helping wherever I could to make sure she won.”

Dream paused, trying to sort out his thoughts, more so trying not to get hung up on the memory of the first time his mother had run for office. Those months leading up to election day had been filled with so much uncertainty.

“I couldn’t do that all again, George. I really did try, but I just wanted to focus on other things, I had other things to focus on.” George shushed him, sitting up slightly to hover right over Dream. And Dream should have known better than to wait his breath on justifications, George knew, and he didn’t need to convince him of anything. Still, he couldn’t help but voice his fear out loud, “I’m scared I’ll be the reason she loses.”

“Hey now,” George brushed the hair out of Dream’s eyes, keeping his fingers tangled up in them. “People are going to vote how they’re going to vote, all you can do is have faith in them.”

Dream just stared back at him for a moment, for just a moment allowing his anxieties to calm as he tried to take a deep breath. “Election day is tomorrow,” he said, a reminder that he was sure George didn’t need.

“You can still fly over there,” George offered, a possibility he had reminded him of multiple times over the last few days, every time he noticed the American getting just a little bit too anxious. But Dream had denied the offer every time, and so did he now.

“I’ll stay here.” He wasn’t sure if it was out of fear of what could happen if his mother didn’t win or just because he was still not ready to fully face her again, but he found the thought of getting on a plane again far too overwhelming.

The day was filled with far too many useless activities just to keep himself distracted and far too many nervous habits. He had successfully gotten rid of his habit of biting his nails years ago but in moments like this it would shine through again.

He sat in front of the TV in the tea kitchen. George had a TV in his room too, but Dream had preferred keeping that room separate from politics. In moments like this he felt like George’s room was the only escape he had, if he went into that room everything else could be forgotten.

Over the last days he had really gotten to understand why George liked spending so much time in his room.

George was sitting besides him now, watching the way Dream's leg bounced up and down as the TV screen showed the news. There was a map of the United states shining back at them, glowing in red and blue colours as the reporter rattled off some new results.

The volume wasn’t exactly loud enough to really listen but Dream prepared it that way, like this he would allow the noise to fade into the background, focusing on just what he saw in front of himself.

It was a stark contrast to the way he had wired for the results four years ago. Back then he had been bundled up on a sofa with his mother and sister right next to him, the whole room alive with endless people as they all patiently waited.

This time around he felt very little patience, every passing minute feeling like it was taunting him. And then the sudden sound of his phone ringing made him practically jump out from where he was sitting.

Sapanp’s contact staring back at him as the phone continued to vibrate on the table. It was George that finally picked up, putting Sapnap on speaker as the loud voice came through.

“Are you watching? Texas is next!” Sapnap practically screamed, Dream flinching as he looked up at the TV in front of him. Texas was still coloured in in a pale red, the rest of the map was already fairly final, blue and red fairly equal.

Texas was more or less the last state that mattered, it was something very unusual. Most predictions had already called the race, with Texas most definitely being red there was no way for his mother to make up for the difference.

But Dream didn’t lose hope, he clung to that little sliver of hope.

He could feel George’s eyes on him, the way they focused on his profile instead of the TV. But Dream didn’t dare take his eyes off the screen, even for just a second. Dream didn’t even dare to move, he held his breath as he sat as still as a statue.

It was George that grabbed the remote and turned up the volume, just enough for them to actually understand what was being said.

“The last votes are being counted out, but it’s pretty safe to assume that this will be a win for the republicans. If Texas isn’t blue for the first time in over forty years this race will be decided,” The reporters said.

Dream letting go of the breath he was holding, feeling his shoulders drop. Sapnap mumbled something on the other side of the line but Dream didn't have it in him to listen.

And then he heard a sound that sounded almost like a surprised gasp coming over the line, Dream’s eyes snapping to his phone still lying on the table, and then he felt a hand grab onto his shoulder. And as he looked up he found George’s hand resting there, but he wasn’t looking at Dream, his eyes were glued to the TV screen and as Dream followed his gaze he felt as if the air was knocked out of him.

There on the screen Texas was blue.

It was only then that he got aware of the noise around him. The reporter doing a bad job of masking his excitement and Sapnap not caring to hide his joy, his voice coming through the phone and even George was laughing with relief besides him.

“She won!” George called out, and suddenly Dream also got aware of the dampness on his face, tears rolling down his face. “Dream she did it!”

“She did,” Dream breathed out, relief flooding over him as the race was officially called as done. Texas was blue and his mother would stay in the white house for four more years.

“I told you! Texas is the best!” Sapnap screamed, and for once Dream could only agree with him.

Chapter Text

“No! Get away from me!” Sapnap’s voice rang through Dream’s headphones, Dream’s and George’s laughter mixing as they watched Sapnap’s minecraft character disappear in between some trees.

“Come back here, Sapy!” George practically screamed between his laughter, Dream finding it hard to catch his breath again.

Since his mother’s reelection something had changed. Dream hadn’t realized how much things had weighed on him, but with the stress finally seeping out of the White House again Dream found his energy to be at a new high. George and Sapnap definitely also felt the shift, where as their gaming sessions had been far and few between all the other things going on in their lives, they had become a daily occurrence once more.

It was nice falling back into a rhythm with both of them, so much so that Dream didn’t even hear his mother’s knock.

“Clay, are you packed up?” She asked, Dream swirling around in his chair to look at her, almost falling off. His gaming chair had already been disassembled and packed up in a moving box, so for the last week or so he had to use one of the dining room chairs as his backup.

“One second mom,” he told her, turning back to his computer. “I have to get going now guy’s,” He said into the calls he disconnected from the game and clicked onto their discord call instead, already being met with the other two faces.

“You probably haven't even started packing yet, have you, Dream?” Sapnap asked with clear amusement written all over his face, George giggling along as he so often did.

“I’ll have you know that I already have everything ready to go,” Dream informed them, unable to keep the genuine excitement off his face even with the false offence.

“As if,” George challenged.

“It’s true! All my clothes are already packed, just like my gaming chair and the new desk I bought. The only thing left is my PC and then I’m off on my way to London.”

“Huh! Actually?” Sapnap sat up in his chair, surprise painted all over his face, “I haven’t even started pacing yet!” Panic seeped into his voice as both George and Dream broke out in another round of laughter.

“You better get to that then, Sapnap, your things aren’t going to fly over here by themselves,” George teased, getting a glare in return before Sapnap disconnects from the call, leaving George and Dream in silence for a moment.

“Well,” Dream started, “I still need to finish up some stuff and then I’ll be on my way.” He could see the quiet excitement in George’s expression spark.

“I’ll be right here waiting for you,” George told him before they ended the call, leaving Dream in yet another short silence, this time broken by his mother.

“You're excited, aren’t you?” She said, Dream flinching slightly as he had almost forgotten she was still there. He turned to her again, watching how she pushed herself off the door frame she was leaning on and came a few steps closer. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually fold your clothes before stuffing them into a suitcase.”

Dream followed her eyes to the open suitcase lying on the floor, around it stacked boxes of different stuff all neatly labeled so he would still know what was what by the time they arrived in London.

“Yeah, I guess I’m finally becoming independent or whatever.” He chuckled, but he saw the slight sadness hidden behind his mother’s eyes as they met him.

“You really are,” she sighed, the smile on her face was genuine. “If you need anything you let me know.” She added quietly, Dream watched as he fidgeted with her wedding ring. She didn’t always wear it, Dream thought it had to do with her not wanting to let herself get distracted during work by old memories, but he couldn’t help but notice that she started to wear it more often recently.

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her, pulling her into a tight hug. She was almost hesitant when she raised her arms to wrap around him, but once they did and Dream relaxed into the embrace so did she.

“I know I wasn’t always the most attentive mother, but just know that I love you,” she started, speaking into Dream’s golden hair and even when he tried to move away to look up at her she held him close. “I didn’t mean to put my work above you, I’m sorry.”

Dream held his breath for a moment, finding it almost hard to follow her words, but when the sound of his own heartbeat got too much he took a deep breath, pushing his mother away just enough to be able to look at her.

“Promise you’ll take care of Drista? And if anything happens I’ll be on a flight in an instant.” He held eye contact, making sure his words were understood, and after a moment of silence his mother broke out in a smile, letting go of him fully as she shook her head with a chuckle.

“Since when do you love flying so much?” She chuckled. And maye in a different context he would have found it amusing too.

“Mom?”

“Yes,” she finally answered, grabbing Dream’s face softly as she studied his face. Dream wasn’t sure if she was trying to memorise every part of his face or if she was looking for her husband's features in him. “I promise I’ll take care of everything here, promise me you’ll take good care of everything over there too.”

Dream nodded, suddenly finding it hard to blink away the dampness behind his eyes. She didn’t push him to answer, instead she placed the lightest of kisses on his forehead before taking a step away from him again.

“You need to finish up packing and then we’ll meet you downstairs to get going.” She took in the sight of the almost empty room one last time before leaving Dream alone again, the blond feeling a strange kind of homesickness settle inside his gut.

He didn’t let him distract him though. He could deal with that once he actually officially moved out of the White House and into the little apartment him and Sapnap had bought together. George had of course offered them a place at Buckingham Palace but neither Dream nor Sapnap had been all that eager to take him up on the offer.

Instead they would get to share the flat not too far from the university Sapnap would be switching to. It was something they used to talk about a lot when they were younger, getting to be roommates someday. And although Sapnap insisted that the only reason he was moving to London was for the university there they all had the real reason, but they hadn’t teased him about it even just once.

Dream was thankful that Sapnap was coming along. They would all finally be together.

Drista and his mother accompanied him all the way to the plane, wasting far too much time saying their goodbyes before Dream finally settled in his seat, sending one last message and smiling when he immediately received an answer.

I’m on my way

Have a nice flight