DNF oneshots (and random ideas for stories I guess)

British covering

Streaming as a passed time was always a favourite of those boys. They had no schedule for their videos, only checking the channels to be sure they kept the audience captivated, and uploading when their videos began to slow in view count.
BBH, Sapnap, Dream and George were all just finishing each of their own streams, waving bye, messing around, just generally being homies, when time zones began to catch up on them each.

Even with the synchronised sleep schedule, two of the Americans had noticed the time, drifting off slowly until the call was silent, accept for one, solumn caller ID. Dream. He was quiet, listening to the the tapping of Gogy's keyboard as he set the editing ready for the next day before he too would head to bed. Dream could still see his face cam open on his computer screen, a habit the 4 had gotten into during videos was to be sure they could all see each other. This wasn't as any joke or creepy stalker technique (as much as sapnap liked to joke), but because they realised after living so far from each other that it was easier to convey, and feign, emotions through voice then through facial expressions- therefore making it difficult to hide true feelings when you looked the person dead in the eyes- screen or not.

It had been obvious to all that day that something had gotten to George during the stream. His usual demeanor was beginning to slump throughout the duration of the video. His eyes, which had been bright and hazel in the beginning of their stream, now almost black and empty. Nothing about seeming depressed, just looking like he needed a hug.
Oh how much Dream wanted to hug him, to reach through the screen and tell him that it was okay, whatever was bothering him wasn't important and that he loved him, truthfully, without the joking or chuckling backround people. Without cover up.

"George?"

George raised his head slightly, a little shocked at the continuance of the call.

"Dream? I thought you were going to bed as well? Are you okay?" He said, glossing over his own frail expressions and donning a concerned face.

"I am. You're not." Dream rebuttalled, maybe a little too harshly for his own liking but that was to be dwelt upon at a later time.

"What do you mean?" George dryly chuckled, no humour or happiness shown other then a fake, dopey smile plastered on his lips.

"George, I can see you clearly. We've been friends for so long, do you think I wouldn't notice if something was wrong?" Dream was becoming irritated, knowing how George was- he wasn't going to give in until Dream hit the root of the problem via his own deduction.
"You're not okay, your face might look it but your eyes are black..." His voice phased out, losing its edge.
"Dream why are you even asking-"
"Because you're my friend George." Clay stated bluntly. Even if George couldn't see his face, he could hear the dead pan look screaming out to him.
"Well so what! If I'm down that's my problem Clay, not yours!" George snapped. Why was he getting so antsy all of a sudden?

"George, calm down- Look I get that you might not want to tell me why you're sad, but can you at least explain the stream? Why won't you tell me you love me? Its platonic, isn't it?!" Dream slammed his hands on his desk, knocking over his bottles and forcing him to calm enough to pick them up.
*Click*.
The chat went dead silent. George put the fucking phone down!

-------------------

Three weeks. Three whole weeks since that conversation, and Dream was yet to hear from his best friend.
Sapnap and Badboyhalo, as well as the rest of the dream smp were yet to notice his absence as well. It seemed he had been talking to them just as much as he used to, maybe even a little more often.
That was the line for Clay. He had waited and waited for all those weeks, passing him like years and leaving him sulking on the floor of his bathroom thinking that *he* was pushing his friendship away. Thinking it was his fault that George had been upset that day.
Maybe if he'd of just left it alone they would still be as close, rather then having this awkward tension clinging to them.

So, what lead him to standing in the pouring rain, in a completely different country, staring longingly at the wooden panelling running along a broken door frame, with the one person who didn't want to see him standing directly in his view? He was lonely. He felt pitiful of himself but couldn't find the words to express it, his breath clogging up his throat everytime he tried to speak.
So he stayed silent, waiting for George to react.

"Yes? Who are you?" George spoke- finally. Dream looked into his eyes, no longer through the screen, but in person, in the same time zone and where he was breathing the same air as him. All he could think was how difficult and more prominent his accent was compared to how it used to be over discord.
"Look, if you don't need anything then just leave-" The shorter male began to speak, until something seemed to click in his mind. This man, tall and slim and standing solemnly before him, looked how *Clay* said *he* would.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, CLAY."
Dream flinched. George's words were less of a question, then an insecure flash of panic that had somehow tumbled into words and out of his mouth.
Again, though, dream remained silent, not wanting to anger himself or the other any further. Instead, he simply stepped forward, pushing into the house and shutting the door behind him, then turning to pin George to it in order to keep his attention.
Dream looked once more into the brown eyes below his, only to see a light hazelnut colour staring back, intently and unwavering.

Clay didn't know what came over him in that moment, all he knew is that one moment he was just looking at George, and the next George's hands were curled up in the cloth of the hood on his hoodie, with his arms around Dreams neck, the two of them leading equal amounts of love and passion into the others lips while pulling each other undeniably closer. Dreams hands found their way to Georges waist, wrapping instinctively around him.

The two pulled away to breathe, still caught up in all the emotions which had lead them to this point, yet at the same time watching each and every one of them dissipate into love in each others gaze.

"If that's how I need to welcome you to England every time you visit, I want you to keep walking in and out of my door." Stated George, not tearing his eyes from Dreams yet.
Clay just chuckled, the first sound he made since he had arrived at the airport and driven over here, before blinking and spinning george around so that they could embrace without the hard wood of the door.
"Guess I'll just have to stay here forever then." Clay replied, smirking.
His guilt could wait, as he understood why George was so reluctant to say he loved him now. It's because it was *Platonic*. Now, however, they had all the time they needed to show their care.

That night was spent watching movies, cuddling, drinking hot chocolate and maybe, just maybe, a little making out on the couch before bed.

(Get your mind out the gutter, they ain't doing the nasty on the first night)