I think I've fallen in love with my best friend...
It started when I first arrived in America, seeing my best friend up close. That first hug we ever had made me realize, I might be in love—his warm embrace, his broad shoulders, his strong muscles, his fluffy hair, and stubble beard, holy shit.
Even Nick realized my flustered reaction when the man pulled me so easily into a tight hug, like I was nothing but a feather, it made me feel small. However, I was small compared to the American, Dream was at least six foot one—with me scaling of five foot eight—obviously he was a bit taller compared to me. Of course, me having to tilt my head back slightly and look up at him doesn't give that away, or when I stood right next to him.
As the tall man walked me into the house in an attempt to show me around, I kept glancing back at the Texan man for assistance as if he was even sure what was going on in my British scrambled mind—that's not counting the jet lag from such a long flight.
Now, we were inching closer to almost a year of not only me moving in, but Dream's face reveal and my visa being approved—I wasn't sure if it was something we were going to celebrate, surely it wasn't that important?
However, my weird feelings that I wasn't sure of about my best friend grew with each day. The glow up—as it was noticed everywhere, I was the first to witness all of it. I noticed how he started working out once to twice everyday—to the point that he'd have no shirt with beads of sweat rolling down his Florida kissed skin.
His fluffed overgrown hair that fell over his eyes, fuck. The shape of his face even changed—not too mention how hot he looks with the light mustache and growing stubble beard; I had to beg for him not to shave it.
He teased me a lot about cutting it, along with chopping his hair off back to the mullet—that night I was on my knees begging him not to.
It's not even just his looks I've grown attracted too, being in the same house, sharing the same air, everything. My body reacts in weird ways during certain points when I'm around him.
Hearing his laugh—the thousand different laughs he has from a simple chuckle to his tea kettle wheeze. His goofy aroma that just enlightens me whenever, even if I'm not in the mood. His hugs, don't get me started. Sharing an atmospheric perspective with this man has tripped me like a mouse in a mouse trap.
I want him, in more than one way. I want him in every humanly way possible—even inhumanly.
"George?" I heard my name being called, and suddenly I realized I was stuck in a trance—some weird trance that I had to be snapped out of before it was too late. I blinked a couple of times, settling on the light that dangled from the restaurants ceiling—I don't quite remember walking in, but remember pointing it out to my blond friend.
Here recently, me and Dream would go for little "adventures" together—some people, including Nick, say it's a date. Though I wish that were true deep down, and that we basically do it once or twice a week, it's meaningless. It's just two friends bonding, two friends who have been oceans apart for more than enough years.
"You good? You just completely zoned out, and your eyes are watering." The sweet Floridian spoke to me, but my mind was going in circles, doing leaps and backflips—things my physical body couldn't do even if he tried.
I quickly nod with approval and glance back down at the menu I've been clutching onto for dear life—I couldn't tell you how long I've been holding onto that either. He quickly chuckles and my heart explodes—great, it's one of those days where every small thing he does excites me.
"Do you know what you want yet?" He asks me, his deep erotic voice, that calm but alerting voice that draws you in so easily—like those mythical creatures, sirens. I gently shrug my shoulders as I scan the menu, trying to actually read what's on it, but my mind had other plans.
"I-I might just get a salad to be honest." I say, my voice cracked, causing me to clear it midway. Embarrassing. He chuckles once more before returning to the menu to examine it.
"That's it?" He asks me, as if I'm supposed to order the whole damn menu, as if he'd expected me to order something grand and dramatic. Not today. I look up at him with a frown.
"Yeah?" I push, quickly examining—checking him out before he glances up at me, holding eye contact smoothly. I quickly glance back down, my heart pumping faster than before.
Suddenly, a waiter stops in front of us, smiling with pearly white teeth—those straight teeth were definitely paid for. I glance up and smile back, waiting for her to give the signal before I start announcing what I want off the strange, unread menu.
Though I know I'll see something I want later because I didn't actually read through it—Dream will gladly order it to go for me. That's how he is, he's sweet, despite his excelling height, he's not intimidating at all. Sure, he'll look it, but he's such a puppy at heart it's cute. Not saying he can be scary, when he's angry, we're all fucked.
After she walks away with our orders everything is silent. I have nothing to cover my flustered face, no more menu to hold up and fake read as I secretly check my best friend out from across the table, like some weirdo. He's leaned over scrolling through his phone, too busy to pay attention to my nervousness to even care.
"S-so.." I spit, my shaky hand reaching for my lemonade. I wanted to curse myself out, tell myself to stop being shaky and stuttering, it's embarrassing. He looks up with a smile and quickly turns his phone off, as if he waited for me to speak up. We sit in more silence, awkwardly. I feel pressured that I need to say something as I started this "conversation".
"So?" He says, the grin on his lips making me slightly gasp. The cat beanie covering his overgrown hair, the colors I couldn't see correctly but knew it looked good compared to the slightly big tan (I think) cargo pants with a long sleeve sweatshirt.
"I don't know." I chuckle, my leg beginning to bounce uncontrollably. I'm nervous, I shouldn't be, we've done this thousands of times, it just feels more weird to me the more we do it.
"Did you want to talk about something? Say anything? Or are you just wanting my attention?" He jokingly laughs. Your attention. I want to say, but I hold back with every living fiber of me, every atom inside me begs to speak out the truth, but I resist with all of me. Instead, my body responds with a shrug of my delicately covered shoulders.
He tilts his head before leaning back against the booth seat. My god. Does he look attractive. It takes all of me not to pounce at him, knowing I'd probably scare him away stops me. The thought of losing my closest relationship to a person scares me. It's why I'm always so nervous around him, I'm scared my body will react wrongly and startled him and change everything.
"What did you want to do after this?" He asks, taking me out of my terrifying thoughts. I hum as I look him in the eyes, suddenly the world around was quiet, nothing spinning.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asks again, I blink and quickly nod, playing with the straw in my drink. My heart beats even faster, he knows something is up—kind of easy when you know someone so well and you live with them for nearly a year, you know everything.
"You aren't very talkative, and you're zoning out so much." He adds, sliding his foot over mine, i gasp quietly to myself, hoping he didn't hear me. My body shivers and I immediately grab my arms and hunch over.
"Yeah, s-sorry, I'm just, I don't know." I can't form an explanation without telling him the truth, and the truth is not what I want to come out—not now at least. He could leave me here, alone.
"You can talk to me George, you know that right?" He speaks calmly and I almost give in to his spell, but I quickly snap out and nod before our food is brought out. I glance once before I start to dig in.
Even after we are done, after we both fight over who pays and I finally break him and force him to walk out where fans are waiting unsurprisingly for us—my heart is still racing. I ignore the begs from fans to sign this and sign that and take a picture or a selfie or ask for a hug—I remember leaving the crowd and following Dream.
I remember being home, home. I remember sighing as I fell back on my comfortable sheets, my new sheets. The bed I've been sleeping in for months, and yet to me is still new. Sometimes, I still have to adjust to everything. It's still all new in a way. I don't miss my old bed though, I don't miss my old home—if anything I miss the people. I would never go back to that place even if someone offered me all the money in the world.
I'd rather stay with my friends, with Dream.
"Hey George, do you want to watch a movie?" He asks, I never even noticed he was at my door before I gasp out loud and sat up, my legs pushing together as I glanced at him holding the doorknob with one hand and the side of the frame with his other.
"Sorry, I meant to knock, um, but do you?" He asks again, the apology fills my heart up, he's a puppy. My lips part and I have to force words out.
"I- uh sure." I say, looking him up and down, still dressed in the clothes he wore earlier. He smiles and taps the doorknob.
"Like, right now?" I ask, pointing to my sheets indicating "right now". He nods and I push myself off my bed.
"Let me change, um the theater is dirty isn't it though? From the sleepover?" I start rambling, forgetting who I'm even talking to, as if I wasn't folding moments ago just from him simply thinking of me.
"I was thinking my room?"
I froze. I couldn't help it, my body froze up and my eyes went completely wide. Thank god I wasn't facing him or he'd probably think I was crazy. The silence was uncomfortable.
"O-Oh.." I spit, swallowing the lump in my throat before pulling out a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt; Dream's to be exact.
"I mean we can watch it in the living room? Or your room? Or the theater..I-I don't really mind it's just the theater is messy and, I know you hate being in messy areas it makes you feel confined a-and.."
I realize he's just as nervous as I am, but why? I quickly let out a giggle and turn around facing him.
"Your room is perfectly fine Dream." I say, the confidence I just gained shocked me, maybe because I realized how shy he seemed? It was unexpected that's for sure.
He nods and shuts my door, leaving me to rethink all choices I just made. Is this a good idea? I ask myself as I change into more comfortable clothes, clothes that I can fall asleep in and wake up without marks or pains.
Will Nick join us? I kept wondering as I slipped on the large black hoodie that nearly went past my knees, the sleeves falling past my hands—the smile on the front reminding me of its origin—Dream's home, his cologne used to drench it back in England.
I quickly fix myself and grab my phone off it's charger—rocking at a solid twenty-four percent. As I go to leave my room, I take a deep breath; my body will react weirdly the whole time, just let it go by fast.
I don't remember how I ended up in front of his door, shakily reaching for the door knob, but as I snapped I got he reality of where I was at I pulled my hand back. Was he dressed? What if he was changing?
I shook my head and aggressively gripped the door knob and harshly pushed, half stumbling forward with how much force I put into it. My eyes half wide as I am met with a tall human standing in front of his nightstand placed beside his bed with his cracked phone in hand; he glanced up.
My mouth opened, I wanted to say something, but I was empty—all words were drowned by my heart pounding in my own brain. As the door knob got hotter I finally let go and quickly steadied myself up on my feet, squeezing my phone in my hand as I waited for him to say something before I fucked everything up.
Instead, I got a smile and a sigh. I stood there awkwardly, as if I never had been in his room before, like I'm at a friends house for the first time, so I'm too scared to sit on anything or touch anything. He placed his phone down and sits on the edge of his bed.
"I need a quick shower, I won't be long I promise, just get comfortable, go get popcorn or snacks if you want, I'll be like ten to fifteen minutes max." He says, his words spilt perfectly out of his all—too pretty mouth that I sometimes found myself wanting to latch onto. I gently nod, amazed at how he was able to control the tone in his voice.
I follow him with my eyes as he walks to his bathroom with his head down—I feel like a stalker, but I don't care. Only when the door closes so I snap out of the spell I was under, all settles. You're in his room...you're going to be in his bed...with him! But what does it matter? It's not like we haven't sat on the same couch next to each other, sat next to each other at a restaurant?
Why now am I so anxious and nervous about relaxing in his bed with him? Why did my body feel electric? I check my phone, it was late, and I had ten to fifteen minutes to do whatever. I throw my phone on the bed and dart out the room, nearly tripping on my own feet as I rush down the stairs and into the kitchen.
I open cabinets, the pantry, fridge—I search for foods. I'm not hungry..but what if he is? I'm stuck between making popcorn and risk him not wanting it either, or not making it at all.
"You look anxious as fuck." A voice startles me and I'm quick to grip the edge of the counter and jump as I turn my body. It's Nick, Sapnap—I sigh.
"You startled me." I say, placing my hand over my beating heart—I was sure it would explode any second by now. He chuckled dragging his feet towards the fridge, the sound of his socks sliding on the cold marble floor of the kitchen.
"Is Dream still awake?" He asks, my heart sinks at the American name—my face feels warm. I search for the words, the simple words of 'yes'—but my brain is still latched onto the name, giving the image of the man.
"Uh, yeah." I quickly say, never daring to turn back and look at him. I hear a light hum, following the sound of the microwave opening.
"Why?" I suddenly spit, not really meaning to, but after the words were said I glance up at him.
"I don't know? Assumed you would know, ya know?" He says, but instead of me "knowing", I'm completely lost. Why wouldn't he just go up into the man's room? Why would I know?
"Yeah." I say, but in reality, I don't. As much I'd rather stick in the kitchen away from the fumble of my aching feet and the pounding of my quick heartbeat—I slowly drag myself back up the stairs and into Dream's room.
I find him still in the shower, not surprised, it hadn't been that long. The anticipation was scary, I hated every bit of it. Waiting for the moment the bathroom door swings open and I find him with damp hair, fresh out the shower.
I carefully pull back the, already messed up, covers, delicately folding it to allow room for me to crawl up. The bed in his actual bedroom is different from the one in his office. The one in his office, a twin size and lifted—lifted to the point where I have to jump up to get on it. Completely different from the one in his bedroom, being a queen or king size and lowered.
I'm too scared to touch anything, I sit awkwardly in the middle of the bed, holding my knees to my chest as I listen to the sound of the shower—suddenly it's rushing sound fades. My heart picks up the pace again, eyes locked on the bathroom door as I wait for it to pull open—revealing a tall blond, wet hair hanging off his face, dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt.
That's what my mind envisioned, however, that was not what I got when the door opened revealing the tall blond with wet hair. Instead of being dressed in sweatpants and a T-shirt, he walked out with just a towel wrapped around his waist. My brain goes insane.
My face feels warmer, I try to keep my eyes from getting bigger, my body feels tingly and numb as I watch with a half open mouth as he holds the towel as he searches for something. I'm pulled in a trance, no matter how hard I try, no matter how badly I want to look away, I can't.
"Sorry, I forgot clothes." He says, the grin on his lips and the chuckle in his voice only makes it worse, I feel the need to say something, but as I do, a whimper comes out. It wasn't very audible, but the shock made me gasp and slap my hand over my mouth, I knew, I could feel my face was beat red.
My heart stops when he glances up at me with a chuckle before going back into the bathroom. I'm stuck in the moment, my uncontrollable thoughts stuck on repeating the image of him wrapped in just a towel. My body dressed in cold chills, my face burning.
I'm kept in my thoughts until the bed sinks and I'm snapped out. I glance at the now dressed man sitting in front of me facing the TV. My heartbeat is in my ears as I stare at the back of his head, his damp hair.
"Is there anything specific you want to watch?" He asks me, turning his head back to look at my flustered self. I stare like an idiot, confused and lost. I blink a couple of times before I open my mouth.
"O-oh, I don't know. I thought you already had one picked." I say, glancing down at my lap. After a moment of silence I look back up, he's scrolling through Netflix.
"You can relax George, you look tensed as hell." He says, and I freeze. If I wasn't as tensed as before, I am now. I stare at him as he stares at me, I can't look away, I'm being drawn in more and more the longer I stare into his eyes.
"You can lay back, get under the covers, pick a side." He adds, pointing to the sheets. I swallow as I push myself back against the headboard, kicking my feet under the covers and gently pull it on my lap.
"How about we watch Heartstopper? We've been meaning to watch it." Dream asked, looking at me—I smiled and nodded. He gave me a chuckle and clicked on the play button. He tossed the remote before he climbed up beside me. I swallowed back the lump in my throat as he slipped under the covers—our legs touching quickly.
I watched as he reached over and turned off his lamp, the darkness engulfing the atmosphere leaving the light to the tv—the colorful lights and leaves coming from the show enlightening the room. I glanced at him a couple of times as he sat leaning back against the headboard, one leg raised with his arm resting on it—concentration on the show.
"Did you want popcorn?" He asked, quickly looking at me. I leaned back slightly and quietly gasped. I gently shook my head, no. He smiled before looking back at the tv. I sank down a bit, my head almost hitting the pillow before stopping right as my neck hit it.
I suddenly was fully focused on the show, not noticing him checking me out—until I glanced up and saw him, arms crossed and eyes locked on mine. He smiled at me before looking back up at the tv.
"You can lay down, your gonna hurt your neck like that you idiot." He chuckled at me, his piercing eyes still locked on the tv. I let myself fall back onto the pillow, a sigh leaving my lips. My heart was still pumping like crazy, I couldn't stop the nervousness laced in my heart.
"You know, I can't help but notice how much you've been checking me out here recently." He interrupted the voices from the show, my heart stopping. I couldn't move, my eyes stuck on the tv screen mounted on the wall. I could feel his firing gaze burning a hole into my temple.
"I..I don't know what y-you mean.." I stumbled on my words, not daring to look up to meet his starry gaze. Even I couldn't be convinced by my own lie. I heard him lightly chuckle before I looked at him, and he was staring, hard.
Hard is kind of an understatement though—his gaze was very intense and intimidating in a way—like he was out to get me, to catch me in some sort of act, like he was wanting me to admit to something he already knew. His eyes burned into my own soul, seeping into the beating of my quickened heart.
"You think I haven't noticed?" He says, his tone wasn't normal, it was sexy—but saying those words felt wrong—his tone was enthusiastic, like I was joking on him.
"Noticed, w-what?" I paused in between my words, hoping that would make my lie sound more believable—but there was no point in lying, he knew, I was caught. He raised one of his fierce eyebrows at me, at my words stumbling over one another.
"You check me out every time we are together, literally, it's not even just scanning what I'm wearing you fully check me out George." He spits his words at me—the fire in them stinging my pale skin. I swallow my own spit before it comes right back at his.
"I-I.." there's no point in lying anymore. "You've noticed that?" I ask, the thickness in my questioning scared us both—I wanted to roll off his ridiculously comfy bedding and run back into my room and under my silky covers. He gently nods at me.
"I notice a lot George." He says, and the sentence scares me. I want to ask what he means by that, but I think I already know that answer. I'm scared to ask, but my mouth is quick to move.
"Wha...what do you mean?" I ask, the words rolled fast off my tongue—in a hurry, a rush to speak. I close my mouth, quickly too, as his lips part carefully, slowly.
"I notice how.. you get super nervous around me." He starts, and his tone shifts completely, from loud and teasing to seductive and smooth—I almost fall for his trap, his spell that I'm so used to falling under. I swallow as he gently leans forward, peering down at me.
"You are always stuttering when it's just me and you, like you're doing right now." He adds a second, now I'm wondering if he'll ever stop as he slowly leans down more and more.
"You always find excuses to me next to me, or closer to me." That one—I can't lie was an obvious. I was dumb enough to think he wouldn't notice that when every single time we were with our friends I found my way to slither up next to his warmth.
"You can hardly ever hold eye contact with me." He keeps going, and going, and as he keeps talking he just gets closer and closer to my face. My heart pounders fast, my chest rising and falling quickly and harshly.
"I...I.." I'm speechless, he noticed. He's been noticing, and I don't know for how long. I'm choked, I can feel his breath on my parted lips—I want to kiss him, but I'm scared. I quickly sit up, staring blankly at the show—I can't even remember what's all happened in the show, right now these two boys are messaging on instagram.
"I can go and go George, you are horribly at being subtle." He teases, and my mind is blank—he's teasing me knowing I've been acting weirdly, and there's no way he doesn't know why. I can still feel his painful stare in the back of my head, I'm too scared to turn around and face my fear in the moment.
"H-how long..how long have you.." I can't finish my sentence, I'm struck—struck by a hard hand in my back. I couldn't be that noticeable right? I'm very secretive—right? He chuckles and I feel the nervousness inside me grow bigger.
"The moment you got here."
I was afraid of those words, I had a feeling he would say those exact words. I let out a quiet whine—he's noticed since day one.
"R-really?" I asked, I wish I'd stop stumbling on such easy words. He hummed and I could've sworn he got closer to me.
"Well, to be fair it was a week after, but I had my suspicions when you got here." He adds, that doesn't help, it means I wasn't subtle enough—I lacked that, and I needed more practice that meant.
"I'm sorry." I don't think before I speak, and all goes quiet—the careful and thoughtful show, Heartstopper is all I hear. I hear him shift behind me and my eyes want to see him—I look back at him. The pretty blond American is pushing himself off the bed.
I've fucked up. I've made him uncomfortable and ruined our friendship.
"I gotta show you something." He says gently as he opens his closet and walks in, leaving me a hot mess ready to cry on his nice bedding—I wonder if I slept in here would it make it weirder than it already is?
He comes out with a box—a blue box to be exact. He placed it in front of me before sitting down on the edge of the bed, somewhat facing me as he laid back on his elbow. I stare at him confused on what's inside the box, but also what it was for. He nods to it.
"Open it." He says, I slowly look down at it places perfectly in front of me—my trembling body. I hesitantly reach out and pull the top off, revealing a bunch of small things, and pictures. I gasp as I realize who the pictures were of.
"What is all of this?" I notice how I didn't stutter not once. Even though I knew what half of the stuff was—things I'd given Dream. Back when I lived in England—behind its gated way leaving me helpless on the other side trying to get over to him—we'd send each other gifts. I'd have hauls about the things he'd give me, but he kept my stuff to himself.
I looked up at him with a half smile, still confused as to why he was even showing me these things. He looked me up and down.
"It's everything you ever gave to me." He spoke softly, and it struck my sunken heart—the same heart that was racing around trying to jump out of my chest and into his warm, veiny hands. I looked back down into the box, pointing out almost everything and the stupidity behind them.
"Why?" I asked, my shaky hands digging through the box--sure enough everything was in there. I was surprised most of it could even fit in such a small confined box. I looked back up at him with a half smile, awaiting the idiotic response.
"Because they are special to me, you are special to me." He says, and my heart erupts in butterflies, all fluttering around trying to run from danger, get to a safer spot--but they can't, they can't because they are in my weak stomach. My brain goes blank as I subconciously let the next words roll quietly off my tongue.
"I love you." I say, withouth thinking, without purpose. And his reaction sends excitment through my veins--his eyes glow brightly and his body slightly straightens. Without longer thought I gently shove the box to the side and crawl on my knees towards his broad figure sitting on the edge of the bed.
My right hand cuffs his cheek while my left plants itself on the sheets before I push up onto my knees and connect our chapped lips. I fear I ruined everything, up until he started kissing me back. His movements slow and passionate, purposeful and meaningful, delicate and soft. I kiss almost the same, just a bit rougher, it's clear that I'm eager, that I've waited a lifetime for this moment--and as it feels like a lifetime, its only been a couple of years.
His left hand fits perfectly on my waist, his other hand keeping him up as we made out. The sound of the show filled my ears again, the world began turning, and I realized what I was doing. I quickly pulled back with a gasp, my hands intangled in the Floridians golden locks. I couldn't get over how impressively hot he looked with my fingers in his hair, ruffling it up--not to mention his newly kissed lips that now painted a pinkish along with his tanned cheeks.
I'm sure my appearance wasn't all that different, I could feel the redness on my cheeks, the heat radiating had burned my whole body. His thick hands tightly gripped my waist.
"You okay?" He asks calmly, softly--it creates sparks in my British body. I swallow down a bit of nervousness, maybe regret? But I don't regret anything I'd done, not the kiss, not moving from across the ocean, not coming into his bedroom to watch a movie, not anything. I regret because I don't know how he'll react, despite him kissing back.
I nod my head, my bottom lip quivered, do not cry.
"I-I'm sorry.." The words paint the air before I can even think about them, before I can process the outcome of the sentence. He looks at me with concern, nervousness, his pupils deliated as he scanned my face in a triangular motion.
"Why are you apologizing?" He asks, his voice full of confusion and concern. I shrug as I glance down at my knees, my hands squeezing my thighs, my skin under it turning white and pink. I could feel the tears swell in the corners of my eyes.
His hand scoops under my chin, gently lifting my weakened head. I fight against the tears, I force them to stay on the edge of my eyes.He leans in a gently kisses my lips, sparks shatter my soul. He pulls away and leans forward, stopping right when our foreheads touch.
"I love you." He says in a hushed tone, and I can't help but chokingly gasp out. I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders and plung into his strong arms. He holds me with no hesitation.
"I've loved you for so long." I whisper, tears slowly flow down my pinkened cheeks as he gently rubbed my back. "I hope you know that I've always loved you, more than a friend at that." I add onto the sobbed sentence before he chuckles and hugs me tighter.
"I know.." He says.
I apologize, I said I would post this like 2 weeks ago, I got distracted and I couldn't stick to this without getting a bit bored. This literally took me almost 2 months for no reason and I apologize for the wait. Thank you all for being patient, I am currently working on the last chapter of Dorm Buddies.