Moonlight. Fireflies. Stars so luminous they lit the world in a silver hue. Overgrown grass with dew that soaked through Dream's discarded shoes. The tall oak tree in his childhood home's backyard. The treehouse that was barely still hanging on- his first ever construction project with his dad. A chilling fall breeze that made goosebumps rise on the back of his neck. His neck, which was laid in George's lap, angled perfectly to stargaze together. He'd been here before, both in real life and when he was fast asleep. George's presence bringing him comfort and security was the only difference between his dreams and reality.
"I love you." George's words blended in with the crickets and cicadas. Lightning bugs flashed around them, dancing in the deep brown of George's eyes. He knew this was a dream, he always knew. The only difference was now he went into his semi-lucid dream with the knowledge that George wasn't only taken by him in his mind. George was seeing someone out in real life, the tender touch of his hand on Dream's cheek now feeling like it was going to seep into his hollow soul.
"Don't say that." Dream whispered. He had never not enjoyed this moment before. The gentle caress of George's hand. The slight chip in his front tooth that was only noticeable when you were this close. The feelings behind his words, his 'I love you' sounding like the way Dream had been wishing it would all along. He had only ever cherished these moments, wishing every night would be this dream. Now, he just wanted to wake up.
"I love you, Dream." George insisted, moving his hand from Dream's cheek to his hair, brushing the long, golden-blonde locks away from his face. Despite Dream's dismissal, George smiled down to him, shaking his head like he thought Dream's words were a joke. He soon gazed back up to the stars. Dream felt like he was being sucked into the moment. He knew exactly how this dream ended, he refused to let himself make it that far.
"You're not mine. You're going to leave me." Dream sat up, George's limp hand had fallen away from the hairs that were running through his fingers. Dream had officially broken the script, the ritual, the pattern. He's not supposed to sit up. He's supposed to tell George he loves him too. Tell him how his world revolves around him. Tell him how knowing he made him smile once would make Dream happy for the rest of the week. He wasn't meant to sit up, George was supposed to lay down next to him.
"You know I'll always be here." George offered, somehow still managing to comfort Dream, to pull him back in with his words. That was all they had for so long, only words. Whispers, laughs, cries, screams, and everything in between. They had only shared words together for years, not even needing the feeling of each other on their skin to be so deeply embedded in one another. Yet, somehow, Dream's mind had turned their words into this moment long before they ever met in person.
"You're not real. I've been here enough times to know." Dream did his best to not be sucked back in. To have the strength to not lay back down, allowing George to climb on top of him. He knew exactly how the dream ended, he couldn't do it this time. No matter how badly he wanted to. Why did his first time having this dream since George arrived have to happen right after he found out about George's girlfriend? Also, why did it feel like Dream was the one being cheated on?
"If I weren't real, how come I can do this?" George whispered from behind Dream, sliding his hands underneath the back of Dream's shirt. His hands were always so warm in his dreams, nothing like the frail and freezing hands he had in real life. The warmth danced across Dream's goosebumps riddled skin, George's breath brushing against the back of his neck. Soft lips grazed the exposed skin of his shoulder, pulling him back down like an anchor.
"Stop." Dream's words were weak. His body in his dream betrayed him, following George's hands, which guided him to lay back down. Their warmth, their gentle pull on the fabric of his shirt, their delicacy with every touch. Dream knew what it felt like to be touched by those hands, in and out of this false reality, his new life experiences making the dream feel even more realistic somehow.
"I know you better than you know yourself, Dream. I know what you like. I know what you want. Let me make you happy, Dream." George was breaking the script now too, adding in the words he said in real life at the beach, 'let me make you happy, Dream'. George's voice, his words, his lips brushing against Dream's neck while he spoke, everything- it made what Dream was about to say next the hardest thing he had ever done in one of these dreams. He leaned away from George, his body feeling like a planet out of orbit as he left George's gravitational pull.
"No."
"You never say no to me. What changed?" George spoke from behind him, his warm hands sliding away from Dream's back, his voice pained. It was true, he used to never tell George no. Not here, not in real life. Whether it was something as mundane as editing a video for him, to intentionally missing the first flight he ever booked to England because George was too overwhelmed. Dream still didn't understand how the George who was too nervous to have him in his home was the same one residing in the guest bedroom across the hall from him.
"You did." Dream's voice was no longer weak, his body feeling less betrayed without George's hands on him. His legs dangled over the opening on the floor, leading to the ladder. The drops of dew on the grass below him sparkled, the breeze making each blade dance in the moonlight.
"I did what?" George was beginning to sound like a voice in the distance, like Dream was finally pushing him out of his mind. His words felt far away, yet the feeling of his hands running through Dream's hair was back. It felt like the ghost of the George he once knew, once idealized, once believed he could fall in love with. It felt like the memory of the romance they never had was haunting him, warning him that it would never leave, he could never walk away from it.
"I have to go now, George." Dream whispered, beginning his descent down the wooden planks that were haphazardly nailed into the trunk of the tree. He wanted to feel the wet grass against his bare feet. It was beautiful, magical, filled with fireflies that twinkled like stars he could hold. The further he got away from George, the closer he felt. He was almost to the ground, yet it felt like George was still pressed to his chest. Like the sensations in the dream were still on autopilot, completely unaware that Dream had veered off script.
"Where are you going to go at, what, nine thirty in the morning?" George laughed, his hand loosely brushing through a few tangles in Dream's hair. The grass was fading away, the last twinkles of the lightning bugs mere flashes in his eyesight. He wasn't ready to leave. For once the dream was about him, not him and George. How could the ground be getting further away, yet George's touch still felt the same?
Dream opened his eyes in slow blinks, the real world was blurry in his vision. The light of the morning reflected off his white bedding and walls, harshly reminding him it was time to start another day. He felt like he was waking up, like he was awake. If he could feel the warmth of the summer sun on his face, soothing away the goosebumps from his imagined autumn dream, then why could he still feel George's hand running through his hair, his chest breathing against his in sync, hear his voice even more clearly?
"George?" Dream's throat was dry, his question coming out in a raspy whisper. He closed his eyes, bringing a hand to his face to rub them. Surely he was awake at this point. He was awake but George was still there. It wasn't George in his dream running his hand through his hair, it was actually him. It wasn't George in his dream pressed to his chest, breathing in sync with him, it was actually him.
"Good morning to you too, I guess." George scoffed a bit, his fingers detangling from Dream's hair. Dream was oriented enough to realize he was the one laying halfway across George's chest, their torsos pressed together. George had one arm wrapped around Dream's shoulders, the other holding his phone in front of him. Dream had both arms wrapped around George, hanging onto him like a child hugging their parent's leg, his face resting against the side of George's neck. George's hand traveled to Dream's back, sliding underneath the collar of his shirt. He ran his fingernails across Dream's skin in gentle circles. It felt... nice?
Nice. Soothing. Loving. Perfect.
Dream closed his eyes again, nearly letting himself squeeze in a few more hours of sleep in the comfort of George's arms. Thin arms that were probably numb from the weight of supporting him. Arms that held on anyway, clearly enjoying this moment as much as him. Arms with skin so soft they felt like velvet against Dream's back. Was this what George hoped to wake up to the last time he fell asleep in Dream's room? Heavy-eyed embraces flooded in the light of early morning?
Just as Dream was beginning to doze off again, all the reasons why he made himself wake up in the first place came rushing back. Fireflies glimmering in George's eyes. Hands that pulled him to the floor of the treehouse. Whispers of sweet nothings in his ear. The girlfriend George was hiding so well until last night. Fuck. Girlfriend.
Dream pulled himself off of George, the hand that drew shapes on his back sliding away slowly, just like when he pulled away from George in his dream. Dream's brows furrowed in contempt, a scowl painted on his face. George raised an eyebrow at his expression, not offering an explanation to the questions Dream had yet to ask. It was almost funny to Dream that George could practically read his mind before he came here, responding to things Dream knew never left his mind. Yet, this George never seemed to have any idea what Dream was thinking, or at least he didn't care enough to show if he did.
"Leave." Dream said as sternly as he could, his body still begging for more sleep after waking up prematurely. He rolled away from George, trying to muster the strength to get out of his bed. He knew his argument would be more effective if he did, if he walked over to the door and opened it, if he pulled George by the collar of his hoodie as he did so.
"Somebody didn't get enough sleep." George spoke from behind him, mirroring Dream's movements. George rolled to his side, tossing an arm over Dream's abdomen as he pressed himself against Dream's back. George was still warm from Dream laying across him, his touch feeling eerily similar to the George that lived in his dreams. But he wasn't. That man didn't exist. And this one was openly cheating on someone halfway across the globe.
"I told you to get out, George. What the hell are you even doing in here again?" Dream recoiled from George's touch, picking up the arm that was draped over him and tossing it to George's side. George disregarded the rejection, moving closer in spite of it. His hands snaked their way underneath Dream's shirt, his nails digging against his back with a bit more weight this time. Dream inhaled sharply, hating how much he relished in the feeling.
"You held me when I cried, figured I would return the favor." George's hands moved as slowly as his words. It was obvious he was aware that he had Dream at his mercy, using this distraction to eliminate the space Dream had created between them. Dream could feel George closing in on him, at war with himself. If he allowed himself to, he would fall asleep in an instant like this. Slow hands, warmth blooming between them to combat the air conditioning, George's forehead pressed to the back of his neck, every curve of his body aligned with his. He could drift off in the blink of an eye.
That would mean ignoring the lie George was living. It would further perpetuate that everything George was doing was fine. The sneaking, the lying, the cheating. Well, he wasn't exactly sneaking, he did leave his door open while he was on the phone. Dream also hadn't asked George if he was back with Charlotte, so he technically wasn't lying either. This definitely fell under the scope of cheating, though, and that was the worst offense on the list. Dream's overtired and emotional mind was finding it difficult to accept any rationality.
"I'm not crying anymore, so you should go now. I'm serious, George." Dream forced himself to say, sacrificing his comfort for his morals. He almost regretted saying anything at all when he felt George beginning to lean away from him, his nails dragging all the way down Dream's back before pulling out from inside of his shirt. Blankets shifted, cold spread where warmth once grew, and George stepped out of the bed. Dream pulled the comforter up to his face to hide his disappointment, no longer feeling like he was going to be able to fall asleep anymore.
"What's the point of kicking me out if you're just going to pout about it?" George was standing in front of Dream, his arms crossed over his chest. The usual smugness that was written on his face was more of an undertone, genuine confusion taking its place. Dream looked up to George, his eyes and forehead the only things sticking out of the blanket he had cocooned himself in. He didn't even have the energy to prolong this conversation, knowing it would escalate into a fight he was no longer looking for.
"Please, George. Just... go." Dream closed his eyes, not wanting to even see George's reaction. He wasn't ready to own up to eavesdropping on George's call. Hell, he still hadn't even told Sapnap or Karl about what he saw the other night. Footsteps approached Dream, a once warm hand turned cool pushed the blanket away from his face. Dream opened his eyes just in time to see George leaning in to kiss his forehead.
"George! What the hell?" Dream quickly leaned away, effectively evading the act of endearment. Drunken mistakes were one thing, but sleeping together two nights in a row, followed by... that? By a fucking forehead kiss? What the hell was George trying to accomplish here? He knew about Dream's feelings, yet he continued to lead him on, while not being honest about whatever was going on back home.
"What? You're all mopey! I thought, I don't know, it'd make you happy?" George looked more surprised than Dream, utterly confused why such a small act of affection was denied after an entire night of being entangled with one another. Dream could hardly think, his mind focused on George's word choices. Always his stupid fucking choice of words, 'why won't you just let me make you happy?' , 'let me make you happy, Dream' , 'it'd make you happy'. Dream may have talked in his sleep, but there was no way he was saying George's lines from the dream out loud as well. Christ, could it even be called a dream at this point? It felt more like a nightmare.
A beautiful nightmare.
"It's not your job to make me happy. If you want to make someone happy, how about you go and call your-" Dream cut himself off, sitting up in his bed. He sighed, looking back over to George with half-open eyelids, begging for a moment of peace. George's look of confusion seemed much less genuine now, his eyebrow arched in a poor attempt to conceal the fact he knew how that sentence was meant to end.
-how about you go and call your girlfriend.
"Christ, whatever. You know that I know now. I heard you on the phone last night, talking to who I can only assume was Charlotte. If you're talking to her again, or... dating her, or whatever, I don't want anything like this happening between us anymore. I'm done, George. I don't want you falling asleep in my bed, I don't want you to kiss me-"
"I wasn't on the phone with Charlotte." George interrupted, his facial expression unchanged from before. Dream rolled his eyes, not believing the excuse. In his mind, there was too much evidence to support that he was talking to her for Dream to change his perspective now. Was he being stubborn? Of course. Did he have a habit of assuming the worst in George? Also true. But was there a feeling in his gut that George wasn't telling him the whole truth? Definitely.
"Enlighten me then, George. How many other girls do you call darling at two in the morning?" Dream huffed, stepping out of bed. He was still overly exhausted, but after conversing this much, he knew he wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep anytime soon. He scratched the residual bug bites from falling asleep on the hood of his car that riddled his arms as he headed towards his closet, grabbing a towel from the top shelf. Maybe that was why George's nails felt so good against his back- he was just scratching an itch Dream couldn't reach.
"Well, it was seven in the morning in London and I was on the phone with Ellie." George answered, blatantly watching as Dream pulled yesterday's t-shirt over his head. Dream laughed under his breath, shaking his head while looking down. Of course. Potentially worse than him cheating on his bitchy ex Charlotte, him cheating on some poor new girl who had no idea what- "My niece Ellie." George finished. Dream froze, one hand clutching the towel, the other holding his halfway undone button fly on his jeans.
'Dream, say happy 4th birthday to Ellie!'
'Ellie, darling, please don't touch that!'
'Ellie wants me to tell you she's wearing a blue dress today.'
Shit.
George did have a niece named Ellie. Dream had even talked to her with George several times. She always wanted to talk to 'Uncle Georgie's funny sounding friend' when George's older sister would bring her by. George would correct her each time, saying that his name was Dream and he wasn't 'funny sounding' he was just from America.
Whether it was the sleep deprivation or his stubborn façade crumbling, Dream found himself walking towards George. The slight smirk on George's face was enough for Dream to know he wasn't going to let him live down his jealousy anytime soon. Dream rested his head on George's shoulder, George's hands already wrapping around to his back. Gentle nails ran along his spine, making him shudder. Would it be too much to pick up George and-
"I have been seeing Charlotte again though." George said without any hesitation, his hand still gliding across Dream's back as if he didn't just drop a bomb on him. Dream instantly stood up straight, not even able to form a sentence through his shock. This was a joke right? George thought it was already time to start making light of the situation. Right?
"What?" George questioned with a slight laugh, looking up to Dream like he was still amused by the situation. His hands were resting on Dream's waist, clearly trying to pull Dream back towards him. Dream wasn't even actively fighting the pull, his body was simply subconsciously refusing to move. He was still waiting for the punchline. For George to say he was messing with him. For any type of confirmation this was some stupid prank before he did something he would regret.
"Christ, it's not that big a deal, Dream. Her and I are just casual, we're not, like, exclusive or anything. I haven't even talked to her since I've been here- wait. Okay, I think I might've called her once or twice when I was drunk, but that shouldn't matter." George explained, beginning to laugh from Dream's distraught demeanor. That was it. That fucking snide laugh that Dream despised so much. It was awful. It was condescending. It was enough for Dream to stop holding himself back.
"Get the fuck out." Dream said through gritted teeth, his hands grasping George's shoulders with almost enough force to leave bruises. He continued to push George towards the door, ignoring the wincing face George was making, his hands clawing at Dream's to get him to let go. Even when George's nails began to leave crescent shaped indents on his hand, Dream continued to push him. "I said, get the fuck out, George." Dream threatened when George held onto the door frame.
"What the hell is your issue?" George rebutted, holding his ground in the doorway. Dream was running on fumes and pure adrenaline, nothing sustainable fueling his body to win this fight if it came down to it. "I thought the jealous thing was funny at first, cute even, but what fuck Dream. Get your hands off of me!" George took one hand off the door frame, pulling on Dream's hand that was anchored to his shoulder. Dream obliged this time, letting go of George and grabbing onto the door.
"My issue is you. Since when the fuck are you someone who casually sleeps around? Hooking up with an ex here, making out with a random girl there, jumping on your best friend every chance you get. But no, I'm the one with issues? You're fucking gross George. You're twenty-five, start acting like it." Dream scoffed, the condescension in his tone shattering the composure George was desperately trying to maintain.
"You never cared who I 'slept around' with before you got feelings for me. When have I ever stayed in a relationship for longer than a few months- maybe a year? What, did you think you would be different? Did you think you could come along and fix me? Are you really that obsessed with yourself? You have just as many issues as I do, dickhead." George's pale face was beginning to get red, his hair waving from side to side the deeper into the argument he got. Just like in the water, George had started to take several steps forward, pushing against Dream's chest with each point he made.
Dream was sick of this. Sick of arguing. Sick of George. Sick of everyone, including himself, making him out to be the most selfish person on the planet for looking out for his own sanity every now and then. Dream grabbed the hands that pushed against his chest, lifting them over George's head and against the wall next to the door. His back crashed into the wall, Dream's free hand was on the back of George's head to prevent it from hitting the drywall. Dream leaned down slowly to George's face. When George tried to turn away, Dream slid his hand from the back of George's head to his jaw, tightly securing it so George would be forced to face him. The glare in Dream's green eyes reflected back at him in George's dark brown irises.
"Get this through your thick skull. I don't want to fix you- there is no fixing you, George. While I've been doing everything in my power to get over you, you've been desperately trying to find new ways to keep me sucked in. I. Am. Done. Got it?" Dream's eyes flicked between George's. He didn't care if he was too close. He didn't care if he was being too rough. He didn't care if his words hurt George. He didn't care that the look on George's face would've broken his heart a month ago. If everyone in his life thought he was selfish, he was going to be. And god damn, he didn't give a single fuck about it.
George refused to say a word, continuing to stare back at Dream in silence. He occasionally tried to wiggle his wrists out of Dream's grasp with no luck. Was it bad Dream was enjoying this? Of course it was. Yet, the look on George's face, the fiery spite he was holding back, Dream wanted to know how long they would have to stay like this for him to crack. The detonating cord that fizzled out last night was back, and it was in the final seconds before Dream was going to burn the whole house down. With one final failed attempt at getting his wrists free, George sighed before finally looking Dream in the eyes.
"Fuck you." George muttered. Dream knew this was as close as George was willing to get to forfeiting the argument, but that wasn't enough for him. He wanted to hear it. He needed to hear George admit defeat. Dream needed George to say the words. He leaned in closer, the tips of their noses brushing together. George blinked in rapid succession, clearly alarmed by the sudden invasion of his dwindling personal space. His head was still pressed against the wall, Dream's hand holding his jaw forward, leaving him nowhere to turn to.
"George, I'm going to need you to use your words and tell me-"
"Karl and I are going out for breakfast, did you two- Jesus Christ! Close the door first you freaks!" Sapnap interrupted, turning around as soon as he approached the door. He had dramatically slapped his hands over his eyes, an abrupt laugh escaping him once he turned around. Dream let go of George's jaw immediately, standing up straight and leaning out the door frame. Sapnap hadn't turned around, clearly on his way to tell Karl his misinterpretation of what he just witnessed. Funny. Sapnap and Karl were clearly on good terms again, even making breakfast plans together, meanwhile Dream and George were about to call it off. Dream wasn't sure if it was even just the budding romance that was ending, it very well could be the friendship too.
Dream rested his head on the doorframe, letting out a sigh of annoyance. Great. That was going to be a fun conversation later. Dream looked down at his bare chest and his jeans that were halfway undone, further justifying Sapnap's reaction. George tugged on his wrists again, reminding Dream that he still had them held over his head. Dream dropped his hand, George's arms falling to his sides as a result. George took a step away from Dream, facing the center of the room. Dream considered the possibility that he may have taken things a bit too far, unsure of how to even approach the topic of addressing the argument they just had. He stood by what he said, he was done- or at least he wanted to be. This was the first time he actually felt like his feelings for George were decreasing. They were still there, of course, but this was his first time feeling like he had made progress at getting over him.
Dream started to turn around slowly, hanging his head low, chin pressed to his chest, as he rubbed the back of his neck. He had been holding so much tension there since he woke up, all this futile drama with George beginning to take a toll on him physically. George was still facing away when Dream turned to him. George looked over his shoulder when Dream sighed, leaning against the same wall George was pinned to just moments prior.
"George-"
Dream was interrupted by George turning around, walking towards him. His face was still red, but not in a blood boiling angry type of way. No, it was... blush? Was he blushing? Could Sapnap's intrusion really have been that embarrassing for him? From Dream's perspective it was awkward, but nothing to be mortified over. Although, he wasn't the one pressed against the wall. Dream looked down to George, who was practically trembling below him, his eyes scanning over Dream's face.
There was something unexpected about the silence between them. Dream came to the realization that the blush blooming across George's cheeks wasn't because of Sapnap's interruption, but because of Dream's actions. Pinning his hands over his head, pushing him against the wall roughly but with just enough care to protect the back of his head, leaving only millimeters between them. George had told Dream on call before that he enjoyed the intensity in Dream's voice when he got angry. This moment was the missing puzzle piece, revealing the picture of what George meant when he said he liked the passion in Dream's voice.
"Oh." Dream's voice was softer this time, his mind having to actively suppress the urge to hold George's face in his hands. It was easier to resist now, the thought of George's breach in his trust still an active thought in the back of his mind. Dream knew exactly what George wanted. Honestly, if Dream's lips were within George's reach, George would've already pressed his lips to them. Chilling hands ran up the exposed skin of Dream's abdomen, making their way to the back of his neck. Dream's control was faltering, his head lowering to George.
"George-"
"Shut up." George's airy words were the last spoken between them before their lips met. The hesitancy, caution, and questioning that was present in their first kisses were gone. Dream knew what he wanted back then, but now George was sure this was what he wanted as well. George's tongue traced his lips, his hands trailing into Dream's shaggy waves. Even a kiss with such force was still graceful, their lips moving together as if they were in sync.
Dream wanted to stop, he wanted to push George away. He also never wanted to come up for air, to instead throw George onto the bed. Dream felt so conflicted, the morals he thought were such a priority to him contradicting in his mind. George and Charlotte weren't dating, so this wasn't cheating, no matter how much it felt like it was. Dream was never even concerned with if Charlotte would feel hurt about him and George together, he was more focused on how he would feel knowing George could go back to her after they were together.
Dream hated sharing.
The kiss broke for a moment, hot breaths panting between them. George's hands remained latched onto the golden waves of Dream's hair. Dream didn't even realize at what point his hands had traveled to George's lower back, holding him tightly against his torso. Their eyes flicked between each other's mouths and eyes. This was Dream's chance to put a stop to this, to stick to his word that he was done. He couldn't keep reinforcing George's advances like this if he was going to... going to... Why was he even fighting this anymore?
Dream shut George down before because he thought he was only trying to appease him as a means to rekindle their friendship. That clearly wasn't the case anymore, George even claimed it never was the case to begin with. So why was Dream still so hesitant? George was in front of him, silently begging, pleading, for their lips to reconnect. George lowered himself from his tip-toes, standing flat on the ground, pulling away.
No.
Dream didn't want George to leave anymore. He leaned down, reconnecting their lips. George was shocked at first, soon reciprocating the kiss after a moment. Dream stepped forward, holding tightly around George's waist so he wouldn't fall back- at least not yet. George's fingers untangled themselves from Dream's hair, now weighing heavily on Dream's shoulders. Dream knew what George wanted, and he was finally eager to give it to him. He leaned down without breaking the kiss, grabbing George by his thighs to lift him against his bare chest.
Dream reached behind him, swinging his bedroom door closed.
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(5,321 words) OOOOOF also special thanks to @PixieYoMama for deciding there should be some extra angst in this chapter >:)