"George?" Dream smiles down at George, who has arranged himself in quite the dramatic fainting position lying down on the mattress.
"I've fallen asleep, don't talk to me," George replies, closing his eyes and flopping over sideways so he can turn his back to Dream.
"But you haven't even finished the quiz yet!" Dream replies, as he pushes George repeatedly on his shoulders, "You can't just quit now."
"Who said I was gonna quit?" George sits up with a displeased expression on his face, "I'll finish it."
Then he proceeds to cross his arms like an upset toddler and ignore Dream's expectant gaze, "Maybe you should go brush your teeth or something, it's getting late."
"George! It's 9 in the evening. You know I never sleep until at least 2, right?" Dream protests, grabbing the laptop and shoving it in George's direction, "Stop being a baby."
"Well then, here's when we'll start fixing your sleep schedule, "George takes the computer and plops it down next to him, clearly not going to take the quiz until he gets his way, "Go brush up."
Dream narrows his eyes and regards George's stubborn face, "You just don't want me to see the results."
George shrugs, "Yeah. That's right. And what about it?"
"What are you scared about? I showed you mine," Dream lowers his tone, and is leaning forward in a way that would usually fluster George and make him frazzled enough to go by Dream's wishes.
Not tonight. Tonight George is boosted by tiredness and delirium, and he does not care.
"I didn't ask you to show yours," George sasses right back, disregarding Dream's voice and motions, "And I deserve some privacy. So go brush your teeth and it'll be all over when you come back."
"You're the worst!" Dream tells him as he begrudgingly slides off the bed and onto the floor, "What was even the point of making you take the quiz?"
"I don't know Dream, guess you didn't think it through," George taunts as he follows Dream's figure out the door.
When he hears the bathroom door closing, he grabs the computer at record speed and deletes the tab completely. Then, opening an incognito window, he retypes the name of the quiz.
Exhaling deeply then checking the door once again to make sure Dream wasn't there, George clicks "Start." He may have complained the entire time Dream made him take the quiz, but honestly, he's curious as well about what he gets if he was being honest on all the questions. And what better opportunity than now? When Dream is just a hallway away and George is on his computer?
He starts speedrunning the questions, altering them from his original answers from when he took it in front of Dream. At a few of the questions, he hesitates and lingers before gritting his teeth and selecting the answer he thinks is most accurate, even if they are truly extremely embarrassing. On his last question, he thinks he hears a noise on Dream's side, and fumbles, clicking without even thinking and desperately hoping that the answer will show before Dream comes back.
The bathroom door creaks open just as the result almost load, and a pop-up ad almost makes George throw the computer against the wall completely. He clicks it away immediately and glimpses his answer just before Dream steps through the door again.
"Are you done?" Dream asks, simultaneously as George slams the lid of the laptop down and looks over with a slightly crazed smile.
"Finished," George replies, and tries to look as non-incriminating as he can manage, "I'll go brush my teeth now."
He stands up a little more stiffly than he hoped, and really tries to make the laptop he's carrying with him very inconspicuous. George walks around the bed, passes a very confused Dream, and when it seems like he'll just be making it out the door, Dream asks, "Is that my computer?"
"Nope!" George calls back as he speed-walks down the hallway, "Change into nightwear while I'm away!"
He doesn't wait to hear Dream's response before racing up the stairs two at a time, computer clamped between his body and elbow, until he reaches the bathroom and slams the door shut behind him.
As he gingerly places the computer onto the counter, even George has to admit that he's being overdramatic. So what if Dream sees his result? It wasn't like it was that bad. He simply panicked and his brain, in its fried state, told him to flee the scene.
Great, George thinks sarcastically, I've made a bigger deal out of this than necessary. Good going George.
He picks up his toothbrush and squeezes a little too much toothpaste onto the bristles, not caring as he stuffs it into his mouth and scrubs harshly, as if somehow that'll erase the past few minutes which transpired. When he's done, he splashes water onto his face to rid the layer of heat that seems to have permanently settled into his skin since interacting with Dream.
When all his routines have been completed, he dries his hands and picks up the computer again. As he makes his way to his bedroom to change into pajamas, he opens the computer lid so that he can get rid of all evidence that he had taken the quiz again.
"Fuck," George whispers under his breath as he freezes at the threshold of his bedroom.
The computer locked him out, and now all it displays is Dream's profile icon and the white stripe across the screen to enter a password into.
"Fuck," George curses a little louder as he tosses the computer onto the bed and hurriedly ruffles around his still-unorganized luggage for the pajamas he had packed previously. Thinking back now, he really should have tidied up his belongings instead of scrolling through social media, but oh well. He'll have time to do it later. There's more important business to attend to now.
Once he strips off his clothes and pulls on his pajamas, George sits on his bed and contemplates the computer screen. There's Dream Team fanart in the background, and Dream's profile picture is fanart as well. He would take more time to appreciate them, but right now all he wants is to make sure Dream never gets his eyes on the incognito tab containing his quiz results.
After a few moments of contemplation, George comes to the realization that someone as hardcore as Dream on technology would never make a password guessable in the span of twenty minutes. Frustrated, he closes his eyes and tries to think of another possibility.
Bingo! George thinks as he suddenly opens his eyes to act.
Looking visibly relieved now that he has a solution, George long-presses the power button and shuts down the computer. If his hypothesis is correct, that should get rid of all the incognito tabs even if the normal tabs are saved.
Once he hears the computer shut down, any whirring or working sounds coming to dead silence in his room, he clasps the lid down and makes his way downstairs. George admits he looks a little sheepish returning to Dream's room after abducting his computer and running away with it upstairs, but he schools his face into one of nonchalance Dream doesn't say anything else.
Of course, the universe hates George and never gives him anything he wants.
"Why'd you run off with my computer like that?" Dream asks as soon as George re-enters the room.
George lets himself look over Dream's comfy fit of a loose white t-shirt and patterned pants and nods slowly, "Yeah. Anyways, where'd you get those pants? They look nice."
"What? George, you can't just not answer my question like that," Dream skillfully dodges George's attempt at distracting him, "You didn't look through all my stuff, did you?"
"What?" Now it was George's turn to question him, "Why would I do that? All you do is play Minecraft, I bet there's nothing interesting on your computer."
"So why'd you run off with it?" Dream sharply ignores another red herring George throws out, and George wants to question just why exactly he befriended a literal detective.
Seeing as he won't be able to lead Dream off the topic verbally, he throws himself onto Dream's bed and groans into the sheets, "It doesn't matter. I'm tired, I want to sleep."
"You're so annoying!" Dream says, in that light jocular way when he doesn't know what to do with George, "Not this again. You always do this any time I ask you about anything."
"Sorry, couldn't hear you over the sound of my slumber," George replies as he closes his eyes and fakes loud, obnoxious snoring.
"Is this lore?" Dream jokes as he climbs onto the bed as well, "You're becoming C exclamation mark George."
"Sorry, can't hear you. I'm asleep," George says as he continues with the act. It's working, getting Dream to focus on something other than the kidnapping of his computer, and George will keep doing this until they've moved away from the topic completely.
"Wow, too bad," Dream says, "My best friend just fell asleep on my bed. Guess the only option I have now..."
He trails off unsurely, and George is about to open his eyes to berate him for anything inappropriate that comes out of his mouth when Dream finishes, "...is to doodle all over his face so he can't stream for at least a week straight."
George doesn't respond, keeping his eyes resolutely shut and even grabbing a corner of a blanket to put over his body. It's actually sort of comfortable, and he doesn't mind staying like that. When he stills for longer than Dream's patience can tolerate, he hears Dream exit the room.
George doesn't open his eyes, suddenly realizing that his eyelids are way heavier than expected. Out of nowhere, he's falling down the valley of unconsciousness, unable to stop his descent until he feels like he's under layers and layers of thick, heavy sleep.
He wakes up to the smell of permanent marker and the feeling of something tickling his face. George doesn't even know what time it is, but it's still dark and all the light in their room comes from the bathroom across the hall. When he notices Dream's face inches away from his, he wakes up immediately.
"What? What time is it? Did I fall asleep?" a flurry of questions falls from his lips, as he immediately rolls the other way to get away from Dream, and then he's touching his face gently, "What are you doing? Why do I smell Sharpie?"
Dream throws something onto the floor, "I don't know. But George, when you said that sleepovers are where people sleep together, I didn't anticipate you literally sleeping in my bed."
"I didn't sleep on your bed!" George protests loudly as a yawn interrupts his words, "It was... it was just a nap."
"No, I think you would have gone on sleeping if I didn't wake you up," Dream points out, "You looked super comfy laying horizontally across my bed with no pillows or blanket."
"I wasn't going to! I was, I was gonna..." George trails off, "Wait, did we ever figure out our sleeping arrangements?"
In the dim lighting of Dream's bedroom, George sees him shake his head, "No. But you looked content to be sleeping on my bed."
"To be fair, it's really comfortable," George says as he rubs his eyes and pats the soft fabric underneath him, "Where'd you get the mattress from?"
"George! Do you not see the situation we're in?"
"Hm?" George looks at Dream cluelessly, "What situation?"
"Well, we have to..." Here, Dream pauses for dramatic effect like an idiot before continuing, "We have to share a bed now."
He doesn't even finish his own sentence before he giggles through the rest of it.
It's too late for George to be dealing with Dream's bullshit, and he gets up in a flash. He's pretty sure he's only able to do it because he took Dream by surprise, but he promptly and efficiently shoves Dream off his own bed.
Then, he leans over the edge and looks at the man laying in shock at the ground to announce haughtily, "Now we don't, fucko."
---
Kang's Note: Okay so this is not the chapter I planned at all hehe I'LL GET TO THE POINT EVENTUALLY AHHHH. Anyways I'm all for the George-Curse-More agenda if you couldn't tell already. Thank you for reading! It means so much to me to see every comment and vote :)). Take care of yourself and have a great day!