We Can't Avoid This Forever

2. Late-Night Talking

"Maybe," Dream continues, "if you told me something exciting, something you were proud of, I would grab you around the waist and shake you with excitement. Hear you laugh, loud and breathy in my ears and know you were happy."

Dream retracts his hand, breath shaking. "Or, if you finally opened up to me, told me how you were feeling, let me understand what you were going through, I'd reach out for you. Pull you into my arms gently, let you burrow into my shirt and tuck your head under my chin. Tell you I'm always here if you need someone to talk to. Rub circles into your back so you could fall asleep knowing someone cared." His hands fidgeted. "I just want you to know you're never alone. Doesn't it feel better telling me what happened, being able to get support?"

"Maybe," George looked shy. "But I don't like talking to people about how I'm feeling. My parents got me a therapist when I was a teenager but I always felt on edge around him and never could talk openly without feeling so, observed. Everything I said was treated like a liability, it made me crazy. I think the reason I feel better is because it's you I'm talking to. Talking with you feels so easy, so natural. You're not being paid to tell my parents why I shut them out of my life from time to time. You're the only person I like talking to openly." George took a step back. "Sorry, that was corny."

"No! No, it wasn't George." Dream laughed and grabbed his friend around the waist, spinning him around and hearing George laugh with him, loud and breathy in his ears, just the way he had imagined. No, better than he imagined. Imagination couldn't bring to life the feeling of George's breath on his neck, his arms digging into his shoulder blades, his hair tickling Dream's ears and turning them pink. Imagination could never capture the magic of real-life George. "I get it, and I'm honored you let me into your beautiful mind."

Dream set George down, keeping him at arm's length. Brown eyes looked up into green, cheeks flushed, smiles wide, hair messy. Dream looked at the disheveled, but joyful boy and couldn't keep his gaze from traveling to George's lips.

Dream watched as George's gaze flitted around his face, to his lips, and back to Dream's eyes. The unsaid question and unmovable tension of want hung heavy in the air, a battle to see who would end the moment first- and by what means. Dream decided for them, he moved closer, feeling George's breath hitch against his chin. He was mere inches away when he moved his gaze to George's eyes and saw what he had missed before. The shallow look of uncertainty, lust being overshadowed by fear of the unknown. He felt George's hand clench Dream's shirt, his breath shake and knew it was too soon. Clearing his throat, Dream stepped away, giving the smaller man a good amount of breathing room. Watching as George flushed red and brushed a hand through his tousled hair, an embarrassed look of relief combined with the desperate want for connection, Dream knew he had made the right move.

"So, um, it's pretty late. We should probably head to bed." Dream avoided George's eyes at all costs. And his hands. And his lips. Oh god, don't look at his lips, don't look at his-

"Right. You're right. Sorry, I forgot I kept you up this late." George laughs awkwardly. "I guess I should probably go..." He blinks quickly as if trying to hold back tears and Dream is brought back to why George is here in the first place.

"No! I mean, you can, but you don't have to. If you don't want to be alone, I mean. You can sleep in my room. Only if you want. To stay. If you want to stay." Dream was going to light himself on fire and throw himself off the nearest bridge.

George just smiled, looking up at Dream shyly. "Okay."

Dream felt like he was back in middle school trying to talk to girls. He knew how to talk without reverting back to a hormonal teenager, right? He was an adult. He has been on dates. He has flirted with countless women effortlessly, so why was talking to his best friend giving him flashbacks to 7th-grade crushes? Oh right, because they had nearly kissed a minute ago. Not usually best-friend behavior.