THE CONFRONTATION
Dream opened the door, and a look of surprise flew onto his tired features. "Hi," he said slowly.
"I'm here for Baby and Clay Block," said George shortly. He stared fixedly at Dream's shoulder, purposefully avoiding his eyes.
"Right." An awkward silence fell between them for a moment. "Well, come inside and I'll get them for you."
George's elbow brushed Dream's as he stepped through the doorway, and a tinge of electricity shot through his spine. He stood by the quartz countertop, hands shoved in his pockets, as Dream walked away to get them.
His eyes gazed around the familiar apartment, memories circling wildly in his head. There, on the countertop, was the roses Dream got him... there was the table where they filmed the video announcing they were together... he could almost feel the ghost of Dream's comforting, warm hand holding his under the table, reassuring him that it would be okay. A lump rose in his throat and he blinked fast as Dream came back into the room holding the cage with Clay Block and, in the other hand, Baby.
He knelt down to place them in front of George, then stood up and faced him. "George, I -."
"No," said George forcefully. He picked up the cage.
"George, please, just listen to me. Please." There was a desperate, frantic tone to Dream's voice.
"No, Clay."
Dream flinched visibly at the name. "George, please, I'm literally begging you. Please. Five minutes, that's all I ask."
George noticed with a jolt of guilt how red Dream's eyes were. He tried to squash out the concern trickling in and sighed. "Five minutes."
Dream almost fell over with relief. He took a deep breath. "George, I don't pretend to know why Amanda said I cheated on you, but I swear, George, I swear on everything I didn't." George stayed silent, gaze cast down at the tiled floor. "If you're not going to believe me, I - I don't know what I'd do, but also, I don't know if you noticed-". His voice took a sharper quality suddenly as he continued. "But all our friends and fanbase know what's going on."
George looked up sharply at that. "What?"
"So I wanted to know if you had anything to do with it, because I've been getting death threats, and my own mother doesn't know if she should believe me." Dream's eyebrows knit tightly together and he stared determinedly past George at the kitchen cabinets.
"No, I had nothing to do with that," George breathed. He looked away from Dream as more, stronger feelings of concern crept into his head. Dream had definitely been struggling. He cheated on you, he sternly reminded himself.
Dream looked back at him, dulled eyes suddenly blazing with anger. "Well, I've been trying to convince people I didn't do it, but it's no use. All my friends have turned against me and thousands of people are telling me to go die all because of some fucking lie," he snapped, "so if you know who the fuck did it, that would be nice if you could tell me."
"I have no idea," said George quietly. He determinedly tried to squash the growing concern he felt for the bronze haired boy, but to no avail. "I - I can tell the fans to stop, but I don't know if it would do much good."
Dream's lips curved into a humorless smile. "You can try."
George nodded, and turned to leave before he made any stupid decisions, like taking Dream back.
But before he could go, Dream caught his arm in a gentle but firm grip, and George resignedly turned back around to see unshed tears sparkling in his sea green eyes.
"George, I don't know if I can ever get you to believe me, but I'll say this one last time." He paused, and looked George straight in the eyes, face pleading. When he continued, his voice was slightly choked. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me, and I would never cheat on you. I like you so fucking much, George, you're my whole world... please." His hand hesitantly moved to George's cheek, and George leaned into the touch without thought, closing his eyes as Dream's thumb lightly caressed his skin.
"Please," Dream whispered.
George opened his eyes, and he saw tears tracked down the other boy's face as he looked at him with an overwhelming sense of longing. It would be so easy to forgive him, to believe him...
But he couldn't. He moved away from Dream's hand and averted his eyes. "I can't... I'm sorry." He scooped up the cat in his right hand, having the crate with the puppy already in his other, and left, leaving Dream standing in the doorway with his hand unmoving from the position it was in when it was on George's cheek.
********
Dream stared at the door that George had just shut on him, wiping his eyes despondently. That had been his one chance... and George still didn't believe him.
He kicked the door in anger. "Fuck." That did nothing but stub his toe and make Patches run out of the room. "Now my cat doesn't even like me," he muttered, laughing humorlessly.
He paced around the living room in aimless circles, eyebrows knit tightly, willing himself not to cry. Everything in his house reminded him of George so much it physically pained him; the giant teddy bears in the corner of the room were from when he went to the boardwalk with George; the crumpled airline information paper he still hadn't thrown in the recycling was lying on the table, a cruel echo of a memory.
He was suddenly visited by another time he was pacing around a different living room because George was mad at him... that was when he screwed things up with George's parents, and now he screwed things up with George.
His parents... maybe if he went to his parents' house and explained things, his mom could fix it. He seriously doubted she could make George have a change of heart - but she couldn't possibly make it worse, he thought.
A drop of hope pooled in his mind despite his rational brain, and he rummaged around in his drawers for his keys. He found them hiding behind a picture of George and him arm in arm at the London boardwalk, and the lump in his throat rose. He closed the drawer with an abrupt slam, pulled on his shoes, and left, locking the door behind him.
Even the elevator was haunted with memories of George; flashes of conversations were circling through his head as the metal doors opened with a ding.
"I thought you loved me, George."
"I do! I - I mean, I...".
"Just admit it."
He shook his head roughly to clear it as the elevator beeped and he walked out into the lobby, squashing down any memories that might trigger. He exited into the outside lot, squinting as the sun streamed down on him, bathing him in warmth that sharply contrasted the dull cold he felt inside.
He got in his car and started the engine, desperately hoping that he would at least be able to convince someone of his innocence. The engine rumbled as he started it up, and he pulled out of the lot, his mind preoccupied by flashes of memories with George he had in the same car he felt so alone in now.
He had stopped at a red light when the image of him kissing George by the car popped into his head, and the lump in his throat got bigger. What he would give to do that again...
The light turned green, and he absentmindedly stepped on the gas, not seeing the car that ignored the red light and zoomed through the intersection.
A sickening pain... a flash of light... the feeling of falling through a long tunnel... and he knew no more.
_____
thank you so much for 6k reads omg!!
i'm sure you're all hating me right now, sorry not sorry lol.
quick thing, please read: i know this isn't the best, most well thought out story because i just started writing this because i was bored in quarantine, and i didn't plan the plot out before which usually i do, but please don't outright hate on it lol. i worked so, so hard on this and rewrote it all several times, trying to make it the very best it could be, and for people to say it's "cringey" and "predictable" really hurts. i get that a lot of people don't like dnf fanfictions but i promise i completely respect their friendship and am not trying to get them to get together whatsoever. this is written just for fun haha.
with that out of the way, my writing ego is kinda bruised right now so votes and comments would be nice :')
reminder that black and lgbtq lives will always matter, keep fighting.