Heat Waves
Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/26559139.
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Explicit
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M/M
Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Darryl Noveschosch, Karl Jacobs
Slow Burn, Pining, Unrequited Lust, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Hot Weather, Internal Conflict, Flirting, Dream's POV, george is a dense sweetie, Secret Crush, you know when you hear a song and it fits so perfectly you listen to it 30 times in a row?, glass animals - Freeform, florida boy is melting, Confessions, Separations, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, no beta we die like men, lol i saw that tag on another fic, sexy dreams causing conscious panic is my fav trope, Nightmares
Published: 2020-09-20 Updated: 2020-12-27 Chapters: 9/? Words: 35062
Summary
Heat Waves
by tbhyourelame
Dream has always held a gentle admiration for George, but when their nuanced friendship trickles into his sleeping mind, he awakens to a new world of conflicting emotions and longing. Lost in the midst of a heat wave, he continuously listens to a song that works itself in to the very core of his heartache. Floridian nights, unsent messages, spiraling infatuation, and terrible, terrible weather.
A breath of frustration escapes George's lips. "I don't do that."
"You do. It's okay," Dream says. He feels pinpricks of warmth building in his chest. The words rise up faster than he can temper, laced with soft honey, "you're so cute."
The call falls silent.
They heard it. The affection in the tone of his voice, different than usual, no trace of humor. The way it came from the hearth below his heart, glowing with secrecy and shame—for George, and George only. They had to have heard it.
--
inspired by the song "heat waves" by glass animals
A gentle glow from the computer screen washes over the dark desk, colors flickering in rapid motion. The monitor whirs in self defense of the growing heat. The ceiling fan lays mockingly silent in the stifling air. Reclined in his seat, Dream's head is tilted back to watch the wooden slats for the slightest tremor. Betrayal. Beads of sweat collect near his hairline. He tugs absently on the sticky plastic of his headphones, where they rest around his neck. The small light on the exterior blinks green.
"Dream?" He hears George say faintly. "Wait, did he leave?" Sapnap asks.
"It says he's on the call still." George's voice slowly grows closer. Dream begins to unattach his eyes from the fan. "Dream?"
The concern in his voice makes Dream sit up. He pushes his headphones back on and wipes his face. "Yes, yes, hello, sorry. I zoned out for a sec." He blinks to register what's on his screen, seeing green grass blocks and Sapnap's avatar crouching in front of him. "Shoot, did you end the stream?" He quickly tabs out just in time to see George laugh.
"No, but I'm about to. Couldn't end it without you saying bye," George says. The small considerate act was enough to bloom a warmth in Dream's chest.
He smiles. "Oh, alright. Bye stream!" "Bye!" Sapnap yells.
George waves to the camera. "Bye you guys, thank you so much. Also, pray for Dream's air conditioning."
"And my broken fan," Dream adds.
"Bye bye," George repeats, then disappears from Dream's view. This stream has ended . A familiar feeling creeps into Dream's chest whenever that message appears post-stream; disappointment clouded with confusion. Today, it is accompanied by trickles of regret.
He frowns. "Sorry I spent so much of your stream complaining about the weather," he says, clicking back to the server. Sapnap has placed an oak sign before him that reads: wee waa dream
can't take the heat. He rolls his eyes and breaks it.
"It's fine, really. I just feel bad for you," George says. His avatar bounds over and starts placing
doors on the ground. "Any idea when it'll be fixed?"
"Soon, I hope," Dream answers with a huff, opening and closing the doors to appease George. "I don't think I can take much more of this." They'd been playing for the past three hours, meaning Dream had been accumulating enough sweat in his boxers to stick to his chair for much longer than any man should. Physical comfort was a key component for him to stay mellow, and not much could distract him from itchy tags and blistering heat. Not much, that is, besides gaming. "Seeing you was nice, though, something about your cheerful face distracts me from my agony," he confesses, words leaving his mouth before he can attempt to filter. He cringes. What was that?
"Oh my god, shut up," George says. He sounds embarrassed. Sapnap coos. "Maybe I should stream with my camera on too."
Dream laughs, running away from the two of them to ease his sudden spike in nervousness. "That would keep my attention."
"Oh yeah, are my streams not interesting enough for you Dream?" George says, flying after him.
"What?" Dream says, feeling a pang of guilt. "What makes you think that? I love your streams."
George continues to act offended. "If you loved them you wouldn't zone out randomly."
"I didn't mean to," Dream whines, which only makes the other two laugh. "I just got distracted by my misery, and tried to airbend a breeze in here."
"Yeah right," Sapnap says. "You couldn't have been doing just that for ten minutes."
"Ten minutes?" Dream repeats, bewildered. He didn't feel it had been that long; he was exploring the map and then clicked onto George's stream to see where he was, and of course George was smiling and yelling, but somehow so full of energy and spirit, and the hot air started to seep into Dream's soul...
"You were AFK for a while," George says. "We were still talking to you though and thought you'd muted yourself or something. Chat thought it was embarrassing."
"Oh," Dream says.
"Hold on, did you mean to mute yourself?" Sapnap asks, laughing at his own insinuation. "Lil too excited watching George?"
Both Dream and George explode in disgusted yells. Good lord, Sapnap.
"Sapnap!" George sends a series of hits raining down onto his avatar. "You are so inappropriate
off-stream."
"You're gross," Dream says with a laugh, but it's feeble and half-hearted. His pulse is rapidly drumming inside his skull. He is not lost to the strange dilemma of why he faded from their call for so long to stare at his George-less ceiling. Why did George have anything to do with it? Envy, perhaps, of his friend's ability to be wearing a hoodie in the middle of summer. He brushed it off. "It's true, though. George's face does get me excited."
