Clay woke up having his head lodged under George's neck. George was so warm, Clay refused to move. He softly placed his arm around George's waist. He breathed in his scent, he smelled beautiful.
Clay realized what he was thinking and doing was not normal, but he did not care. He needed this... he needed George. Clay decided to go back to sleep.
Clay woke up to an empty bed and immediately felt a sense of panic. "George!" he called out, his heart racing. A few moments later, George rushed into the room, looking concerned. "What's wrong?" he asked, his brow furrowed.
Clay took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "I'm sorry," he said, feeling embarrassed. "I didn't know where you were."
George's expression softened. "It's okay," he reassured Clay. "I was just in the kitchen making some toast."
Clay nodded, feeling relieved. He couldn't help but feel a sense of attachment to George, even though he knew it wasn't necessarily wise. "Okay, thanks," he said, looking up at George.
Why was I being like this? I know damn well not to get attached to someone in the life I am living in.
"No worries." Clay followed George to the kitchen.
George ate in somewhat silence after what happened.
George glanced over at Clay and noticed he hadn't touched his toast. "You gonna eat that?" he asked, gesturing to the plate.
Clay stared down at the burnt slice of bread and felt his stomach turn. He knew he needed to eat something, but the thought of putting that in his mouth was almost unbearable. "Uh, yeah, I'll eat it later," he mumbled, hoping George wouldn't push the issue.
Thankfully, George seemed to let it go and changed the subject. "So, you had a nightmare last night?" he asked, looking at Clay with concern. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Clay shifted in his seat, feeling uncomfortable. "Not really," he muttered, avoiding eye contact. He didn't like to admit to his weaknesses, and talking about his nightmares made him feel vulnerable.
George sensed that Clay was a private person who preferred to keep his thoughts and feelings to himself, especially when it came to sharing with George. "I get it," he said with a nod, deciding not to press the issue.
Before he could say anything else, there was a knock at the door. George got up to answer it, with Clay following closely behind. When George opened the door, he was surprised to see the same men in suits he had met a few days earlier.
"What are you doing here?" Clay stepped forward in front of George.
Was he following us?
"Do you know Clay?" George turned to Clay and he frowned.
Why the hell was he here again?
"Yeah, he was at my house a few days ago," Clay turned to George with a nervous look on his face.
"Clay, can we talk to you for a moment, please?" the man in the suit asked, addressing Clay directly. George stepped in front of Clay, his body language defensive. "Who are you and why are you following him?" George demanded, his voice low and threatening.
Clay felt a surge of fear and hid behind George, feeling grateful for his friend's protective stance. "It will only take a minute," the man persisted, trying to reason with them.
George's face hardened with anger. "The answer is no," he said firmly, blocking the man from entering the apartment. The first man in the suit pulled out a walkie-talkie and spoke into it. "Can I have backup, please? I don't know how he is going to react," he said, voice tense.
Feeling trapped and scared, Clay pushed George back and forcibly pushed the man out the door, slamming it shut and locking it. "What the hell do they want?" Clay asked, his voice shaking with confusion and fear.
They walked back over to the couch, George keeping his eyes trained on Clay. "I honestly don't have any clue, but I'm scared," George admitted, his own voice trembling. Clay let out a deep sigh, feeling overwhelmed by the situation.
Both Clay and George kept their eyes on the door, fearing for who might come in. They heard a loud bang on the door.
They were trying to get in.
George's heart was racing as he grabbed Clay and dragged him into his room, locking the door behind them. Clay could feel George's fear and it made him even more frightened. Suddenly, they heard a loud banging on the door.
"Open up the door! We need to speak to Clay!" one of the men shouted from the other side, his voice aggressive.
Clay whispered to George, his voice trembling with fear. "What do we do? I'm scared."
"I don't know," George admitted, feeling overwhelmed. "Just stay behind me. I won't let them touch you," he promised, taking Clay's hand in his and squeezing it tightly.
Clay blushed at the contact but was grateful for George's protective stance. They waited anxiously, not knowing what was going to happen next.
The banging on the door grew more and more violent until one of the men threatened to break it down. George knew he had to act fast. He looked over at Clay and saw the fear in his eyes.
Before Clay could react, the door was kicked open and the men rushed in. George pushed Clay away, determined to protect him at all costs.
Suddenly, the men grabbed hold of George and injected him with a light green liquid. He screamed in agony, falling to the floor and writhing in pain.
"George!" Clay rushed to George's side, pulling him into his arms. He could feel George's body convulsing, the pain too much for him to bear.
Clay was dragged away from the boy as he groaned in pain.
"Now come with us or it will just get worse for him from here," one of the men looked at Clay sternly, he looked down at George, who was still groaning and screaming.
Instead of making him surrender, it just made him angry. Clay snapped, "Hell! No! You are going to stop this right now or I'm going to make you!"
They looked at one another. Clay didn't hesitate to lunge at the one that injected George, he screeched as Clay slammed him down.
"Must I repeat myself!"
Clay's rage boiled over as he faced the intruders as he shouted at them. The men hesitated for a moment before one of them nodded. But as another approached Clay, he lunged at them without hesitation, taking them all on and knocking several of them out cold.
He seized the antidote from their hands and released the now bloodied man on the floor. The remaining men whispered to each other before quickly helping each other up and fleeing the room.
With the danger gone, Clay rushed to George's side, who was still writhing in agony on the ground. "Hold still, I don't want to hurt you more," Clay said as he carefully administered the antidote.
Clay gently grasped George's shoulder, but the boy recoiled in pain from the touch.
"It burns! Everything burns!" George's words were barely coherent as he thrashed violently. Clay was afraid that George might hurt himself even more.
"George, please, I have something that can help, but you have to stop moving. I don't want to make it worse." Clay pleaded with him.
George's eyes showed the agony he was going through as he finally stilled himself.
"I'll do my best to stay still," he whispered.
Clay carefully held onto George's neck and administered the clear liquid. George winced in pain, but he didn't move.
George screeched once more as Clay held onto him, not letting him move as he finished injecting him. Clay carefully let go of George, he looked at Clay.
George's eyes flickered for a moment before finally closing shut.
Clay carefully picked him up, surprised at how light he felt despite his initial heaviness. He gently placed George on the bed and covered him with a blanket.
As Clay turned around, he suddenly felt a wave of dizziness and weakness wash over him. His legs started to wobble, and he struggled to make it to the bed before collapsing onto it.
Breathless, Clay looked over at George, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully. He sighed with relief before closing his own eyes and letting sleep overtake him.
Some time later, George stirred and opened his eyes to see Clay looking over him with concern. He smiled weakly, grateful for his friend's care and attention.
"I'm sorry, George..." Clay looked over at George, feeling guilty for what just occurred. It was his fault that George got hurt, they only wanted him.
"I'm going to be fine, just a bit sore, that's all."
George carefully rubbed the spot on his neck which he was injected at. He flinched.
The skin was still slightly on fire, Clay could tell by the redness around the spot.
After calming down and believing they weren't coming back, Clay asked if George wanted to play Minecraft.
"Yeah sure," George smiled as Clay set up his other computer and gave me his server address. Clay logged onto Minecraft as Dream and entered the IP.
"You on?"
Clay looked over at George who seemed fixated on his screen. "Yeah you can join," George laughed, Clay waited for the game to load and George looked at Clay in shock.
"What? What's up with that face?" Clay laughed, but George still looked shocked. "Dream?"
"Yeah... that's my Minecraft user?" Clay laughed, not understanding at the moment why he was freaking out like he was.
"Dream?!" George was in complete shock, Clay was confused.
"Yeah... what is it?" Then Clay noticed when he spoke in chat.
<GeorgeNotFound> Dream??
"George... Oh my god! No wonder your voice sounded familiar!"
Dream couldn't believe it, he was talking to GeorgeNotFound!
"Your Dream! The Dream! Minecraft god Dream! My best friend Dream!" George shouted happily. Dream couldn't help but feel warm inside, knowing that George cherished him as both a player and a friend.
"I wouldn't say I'm a Minecraft god," Dream laughed at the statement.
"Dream, that would never show me your face!" George laughed. Dream realized...
George has finally seen his face.
"Yeah," Dream laughed nervously; George was oblivious to how he was breaking down.
"You're the George who would never say I love you Dream!" Dream was not able to process any further, so he let George continue.
"Anyways let's play!"
George smiled, they played for who knows how long before it started getting dark once more.
"We should probably go to bed," George said, his eyes starting to droop from lack of sleep.
"Yeah, you're probably right," Dream replied, laughing softly.
As they prepared to sleep, George asked, "Do you want to sleep on the air mattress, or do you feel more comfortable sleeping with me?"
Dream stiffened up at the question, unsure of what to say or do.
What would George think If I slept with him?
"Um... if I could sleep with you, that would be nice." Dream smiled nervously, deciding. "Sure, alright."
George climbed into the bed, Dream followed shortly.
Even though they were separated, they could feel the heat radiating from each other. It didn't take long before George fell asleep.
Dream looked over at him blushing.
What is wrong with me?
Dream felt a sense of comfort as he felt George's warm embrace from behind. He smiled to himself and drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, Dream woke up to find George still asleep and cuddling him. He didn't want to disturb him and decided to stay put for a little while longer, enjoying the peaceful moment.
Dream had to make the hard decision to slowly get out of bed...
I could stay a bit longer right?
Dream stayed for a few remaining minutes before slowly getting out of bed, trying not to wake George.
Dream went to the kitchen to make breakfast for George.
Dream was almost done with the pancakes when George entered the kitchen. "I was wondering where you went off too," George laughed, looking around the kitchen.
"I made breakfast!" Dream smiled, looking at the pancakes that were stacked nicely on top of each other.
"Sweet!" George grabbed his plate then sat down next to Dream, he blushed.
"Hey Dream, would you like to do a livestream and let the viewers know that I've moved to Florida?" George asked while Dream picked at his food.
"And a face reveal!" George continued, Dream froze at the suggestion and put down his fork. "You know I can't do that, George," he replied.
"Why not, Dreammm?" George whined like a child begging for something he wanted.
Dream hesitated and replied, "Because I just can't George." He avoided looking up, afraid of how George might react.
"I don't understand. I've seen you before, so why can't you show your face to the viewers?" George pressed, sounding desperate.
"I didn't mean for you to see me, George. I thought you were a different George," Dream explained, noticing that George's expression had suddenly turned serious.
"Wait, so are you saying that if we hadn't met in person, you would have never shown me your face?" George asked, his frown deepening.
Dream frowned,
I can't lie to him.
"I..." Dream wasn't sure what to say,
What would he say?
"You weren't! What the hell Dream!" Dream could see the anger in George's eyes. "I'm sorry George..." Dream spoke, his voice breaking up."Don't apologize to me! I'm your best friend, Dream! I deserve to see your face whether you're here or not!" George raged, causing Dream's eyes to widen with fear.
"George, please!" Dream whined, begging him to calm down. But George was already turning away. "Don't... I think you should go," he said, refusing to make eye contact with Dream. "George, please listen to me," Dream pleaded, hoping to explain himself. "Just go, please..." George sighed, cutting him off. "But I don't have a car with me," Dream frowned, hoping that George would reconsider his decision."At this moment, I don't care. I don't want to talk to you," George said, still not looking at Dream.
Feeling hurt and rejected, Dream tried to make George understand. "George, please don't do this. You're hurting me," he said with a frown.
"Go. Just go..." George walked away, leaving Clay to call for an Uber. Dream felt like he wasn't ready to go home yet; he wanted to stay with George.
I am such an idiot....
________________________________
Come on past Onyx, seriously? Still no author's note??? Bruh.
Stay calm, Stay alive
Onyx