THUNDERSTORM AU shh it counts
[contains: language]
__________________________
[a/n: this chapter is for a oneshot competition by SoftForDream - congrats on reaching 700 followers!! those people are pog and you're amazing 😎
the linked song fits perfectly with the vibe at the end of the story, so please look for a note that says [play song] or something to know when to start it :3 I promise it's worth it to time it right!
the title is a joke because the only lyric I remember from that song is "Thunder and lightning, it's getting exciting!" so that's something sjdjjddh yeah it has nothing to do with anything]
==========================
Dream stared out of the window, eyes locked on the pavement outside his small shared apartment. Rain hit the sidewalks with tremendous force, echoing through the thin glass and into the room. He had to focus hard to see past his own reflection, as all the lights in the bedroom had been turned on.
He gripped the sill, steadying himself against the wall. The inside of his cheek was sore from how much he had been chewing on it, but Dream didn't let up. He just kept staring; waiting; hoping that the storm wouldn't show. He could handle rain no problem, but thunder? No, that wouldn't do.
The front door creaked open and shut, and sloppy footsteps accompanied the soft clatter of keys being put on the kitchen counter. Bags crinkled from out in the hallway, and Dream turned around to welcome his roommate home.
George called out Dream's name from the foyer and was met with a soft response. He appeared in the doorway of the bedroom, hair slick with rain. After a small hello and a wave, the Brit was about to move along, but he almost did a double take once he really looked at his friend.
His casual smile turned confused when he saw the way Dream was pressed against the window. Despite being 6'3", his form was crumpled; childlike. The demeanour of a scared dog.
"Hey," Dream sighed. "Did you get in okay? The roads are slippery."
"What's wrong with you?" George chuckled, ignoring the question. "You look like you shit yourself."
Dream wheezed, crossing his arms over his chest. If George kept cracking jokes like that, the rain wouldn't even be audible over the tea kettle whistles he emitted.
"Wow, thanks," the blond rolled his eyes. Despite that, he shook his head dismissively. "It's whatever."
George didn't seem convinced, but didn't press.
"It's coming down pretty hard out there," he leaned on the doorframe. "I heard there's lighting on the forecast."
"Yeah, so did I," Dream mumbled, worriedly turning to look back out the window.
George's reflection was clearly visible on the glass, radiating with concern.
The reflection disappeared momentarily as the outside world became nothing but white for a split second. Dream blinked, unsure if his vision was playing tricks on him. He held his breath, goosebumps making their way up his arms. Rain kept pattering away, filling his ears with erratic droplets until a different sound emerged from the dark. Deep, low rumbling snaked over the city, reverberating through the floorboards of the apartment. God, there it is, Dream thought, screwing his eyes tight.
George walked up beside him, putting a hand on his shoulder. It was still ice-cold from being outside, but the sensation was grounding regardless.
"Are you okay?" George asked. "Do you feel sick?"
"No, no," Dream laughed, "it's not that."
A flash of lightning bolted through the sky again, stifling Dream's laugher as it choked in his throat. George looked outside, squinting past the reflections. He huffed, watching as rivers of rainwater flew across every inch of road.
They stood in silence again, listening intently. Moments after the strike, the thunder rolled in again, washing over the building. The gap between the two occurrences was shorter now.
Dream tensed, burrowing his nails into his biceps. A rogue shiver made its way up his spine, forcing the hair on his arms to stand up. George felt the tension seeping out of him as he scanned his eyes over Dream's face with a furrowed brow. He didn't ask, but Dream took pity on him regardless.
"...I'm not a fan of storms," he muttered.
George seemed to understand, nodding minutely and turning to lean against the window sill.
"That makes more sense," he smiled.
Dream sighed, studying the heavy cotton curtain beside him with immense interest. He didn't know why he felt so silly admitting such a thing— it's not like George cared about stuff like that.
"What, why are you blushing all of a sudden?" George teased, a smirk replacing his understanding smile.
"Well, I'm— I—" Dream stuttered, shrugging his shoulders in an attempt to look nonchalant, "it's just kinda embarrassing..."
"No, it's not," George shook his head, "you don't have to worry."
"You're probably gonna tease me about this forever."
"God, Dream, I joke around, but I'm not mean," George chuckled. "I'm not gonna make fun of you for having a fear."
Dream giggled, slightly releasing his grip on his skin.
"Do you want to tell me what exactly bothers you? Maybe we can sort this out."
"Don't you have to code today?" Dream asked, remembering that George probably had more important things to attend to.
"It can wait," the brunet brushed him off. "I wouldn't be able to work seeing you suffer, anyway."
Dream smiled, turning around to sit on the sill beside George. He exhaled, pursing his hands over his lap. The glass felt cold on his back, but it didn't comfort him the way George's palm did. He chewed his cheek again, looking to George for confirmation before speaking.
"I hate everything about it," Dream mumbled. "It just makes me shiver; it makes me feel like the world is ending."
George nodded reassuringly beside him, urging him to continue.
"It's not even the sound that bothers me. Like, I'm not afraid of fireworks, even though they're equally loud— fireworks are man-made and we can control them. I'm also not phased by videos of lightning; they're not lethal, and they're obviously in the past because they've been filmed. But when thunder and lightning are happening in real time right above my head, we're... completely dependent on nature."
Behind him, another flash momentarily streaked into the room. Dream braced himself, forcing his tongue to keep speaking.
"It's wild and unpredictable. It's, like, one wrong move and I'm going to die. But the worst part—"
A boom thundered in from the north, rattling the window slightly.
"That," Dream mumbled, pushing himself off the sill. "That's the worst fucking part. I hate it."
He put his hands on his hips, facing the inside of the room. Behind him, George rose and drew the curtains closed, effectively blocking out the view of the outside world.
"It makes my bones shake in the most disgusting way," Dream shivered. "It just proves that there's nowhere to hide; nowhere you can be safe. Whatever I do, it'll get to me. It'll rummage through my house, force its way under my skin..."
He sighed heavily, chuckling to himself. This really was a pretty stupid fear. Thunder isn't a living thing— it can't burrow into anyone or anything, for that matter. That didn't make it any less monstrous, though.
"I know you've probably been told this a million times," George spoke up softly, "but there is nothing to be scared of. You're safe inside, and the storm will pass soon."
"I know," Dream smiled sadly. "I know that, but it just doesn't click in the moment. All I can rely on is a distraction."
George cocked his head to the side, seemingly mulling over the predicament. Before long, he scratched his head and offered Dream a sheepish grin.
"Alright, I can work with that."
-
The curtains stayed tightly shut over the window, and George went the extra mile to pad the frame with rags to negate any drafts that may have caused noise to waver in. The whole time, Dream sat against the headboard on his bed, scrolling absently through his phone. It worked for a while, but the dread of realizing what was happening outside kept rocking him out of comfort.
George drew the curtains apart an inch, peeking outside and clicking his tongue in distaste. Dream assumed that the storm was only increasing.
He locked his phone and tossed it on the mattress, rubbing his eyes as his head fell backwards onto the headboard. A tremor worked its way onto the bed like an earthquake, and Dream tensed up again. It had been a while since the last thunderstorm— in fact, the last time it happened, he and George weren't even roommates yet. Maybe that's why he didn't know about Dream's fear until now.
The Brit walked over to the bed, peering down at the miserable man on it. He was a sight for sore eyes, all
fidgety and nervous.
Dream peeled his hands away from his face, revealing an exasperated pout at which George laughed. He sat down on the edge of the bed, playing with the sheets with one hand. His mind seemed to be running with thoughts and ideas, and he suddenly rose and left the room. Dream watched as he disappeared into the hall without a word, already feeling panic rise in his chest from the sudden loneliness. He debated following George out, but decided to stay put. Drumming a pattern on his thigh, he stretched out across the bed and tried to get comfortable— to no avail.
Shuffling echoed from down the hall and George returned momentarily, dragging his blanket behind him and balancing several pillows on his forearm. He huffed as he threw the belongings onto Dream's bed, covering him in pillows and ignoring the muffled yelps from below. Dream peeked out from where the blanket lay draped haphazardly over his head, looking up at George as the brunet dusted his hands.
"You raided your bedroom for me?" Dream wheezed.
"Yeah, I heard that blankets help with stuff like this. Sense of Security and all that."
"George, it's so hot inside."
"I turned the thermostat down."
He whipped the blanket off, arranging the pillows on either side of the bed. Dream just shrugged, accepting the offering and climbing underneath his own covers before pulling George's up over them. He could already feel the temperature drop, and he wondered exactly how far George had turned it down.
"Aren't you gonna get cold?" Dream asked, pulling the black covers up to his chin and melting in its softness.
"I have sweaters," George said, "or I could just cuddle up next to you."
Dream pulled the blanket up higher, muttering a 'no way' and blocking out the sounds of George's stupid laughter. Despite the coolness of the room, his ears were slowly lighting on fire.
"Right, well," George said once he finished teasing, "you're all bundled up, the window's closed, but I can still hear the rain..."
"Yeah," Dream confirmed, tossing under the mountain of blankets and pillows.
"Having a show on wouldn't help much, with all the dramatic pauses, plus there's nothing good on Netflix anyway..."
"I could play some music," Dream offered.
"Alright, I'll put something on," George walked over to the speaker system beside Dream's setup.
"Are you staying?" Dream asked, eyeing the brunet as he shuffled around the desk.
"I mean, if you don't mind," he answered. "I don't really have anywhere else to go; my entire bed is on you right now."
Dream wheezed, curling up tighter and latching onto the pillow nearest to him. It was wonderfully cold and smelled of lavender detergent, hints of cinnamon interacting with the scent. His shower gel, Dream recalled.
Another rumble of thunder came from outside, this one even more prominent. It seemed like the storm was directly overhead now. Dream pulled the pillow in closer, warily watching as his roommate leaned over the computer.
Soon enough, gentle music drifted out of the speaker. It almost sounded indie until the vocals came through.
"Coldplay?" Dream grinned, shooting George an unimpressed look.
"Shut it, this is the first thing I found," George fumbled with the volume knob.
The smooth guitar and rhythmic drums gradually became louder, drowning out the wild rains outside. At this volume, the bass was completely audible and Dream could clearly make out the intricate artistic choices in the plucking of the synth and all the microscopic fades and automation that brought the song to life.
George plopped down onto the bed, dipping the mattress down a bit. He slithered down into a comfortable position, pulling out his phone and opening Twitter. Dream lay still beside him, peering up. He watched as George's eyes flicked across the screen, bright and reflecting the screen. Slight smiles tugged at his lips when he came across a funny post, and a short laugh came through over the song when he stumbled on a particularly good one.
"What?" Dream smiled, poking his head far out to look at the screen.
George dipped down lower until he was laying, angling his phone towards the blond. Dream read the post, giggling at its stupidity. George kept scrolling, giving Dream some time to read every tweet that rolled across the page.
Dream would look up sometimes, tracing his eyes over George's angled jawline; over the bridge of his nose; across the shape of his lips, and then dip down to the hands that held his phone in place, fingers gently curved over the screen. He swallowed, not paying any attention to the phone itself anymore. Dream focused on the way George's chest rose with every breath; the relaxed grin that curved his cheeks into his eyes; the soft freckles that lay specked on his pale arms...
Goosebumps pricked the brunet's skin along with the freckles. Dream stuck a hand out over the edge of the blanket, immediately feeling the chill in the room. George didn't seem to pay the temperature any mind, but he shivered slightly every so often.
"Are you cold?"
"Hmm?" George looked over then at himself. "Oh, a little, I guess."
Dream's gaze wavered between George's arms and his face, until finally a decision came across his mind. He pulled back the various layers of blankets, having to shove George over a little so he could reach the end. He uncurled the barrier of warmth, holding it out over his head with one arm while leaning on his elbow with the other.
"Come under," Dream said.
"Y-you know I was joking about the cuddle stuff, right?" George stuttered, brows raising in surprise. "I have a hoodie I can put on."
"Whatever," Dream shook his head, "just come here."
George sat still for a moment, frozen either from shock or the cold. Slowly, he shuffled across the mattress and under the blanket, already dissolving into its incredible warmth. Dream's body heat radiated under the covers' constraints, instantly prickling George's skin.
He propped himself up on the pillow below, avoiding looking at Dream. The blond did the same, wordlessly tossing the blanket back over George's shoulder and turning on his back to stare at the ceiling.
George took his phone out again, continuing where he left off. He sighed, letting himself relax after the period of initial awkwardness passed. Dream licked his lips, shifting a little so his head touched the outside of George's arm. He leaned into his friend, eyes lidded with comfort. Waves of thunder still cascaded over them, but if he focused on the music and George's steady breathing, they were almost nonexistent.
[start song here uwu]
The song ended, floating out into several soft notes. In the space between the final strum and the beginning of a new melody, a particularly mad growl etched itself into the silence. Dream grit his teeth, feeling the thunder vibrate in his head. Even George seemed bothered by this one.
The Brit looked up, frowning at the window. Another song started filling the room, and he glanced down at Dream. He locked his phone, stowing it in a pocket and turning on his side. He hovered over Dream, propped on one elbow as the man below him sighed and tried to relax again.
Dream was about to crack a joke or force a tight smile, going far enough to open his mouth to speak, but he was immediately halted by the hand that snaked into his hair. George's fingers ran through his blond locks, carefully brushing them out. He stared up at the Brit, breath hitching in his throat. George just smiled carelessly, gaze focused on his hand where it drifted across the soft waves. His nails occasionally grazed Dream's hairline, sending tides of heat rolling over the American's cheeks. After what felt like forever, he found his voice.
"What are you doing?" Dream whispered, words close to breaking.
"Distracting you," George replied casually.
Thunder came again, but the vibrating sensation took a backseat to the buzz in Dream's veins. He lay still, unable to peel his eyes away from the features of George's face. The expression he wore wasn't one that he had ever seen before, but good lord was it something. From this angle, the light from the lamp overhead didn't hit George, so his face was shrouded in a soft, blue shadow. Despite that, rogue rays found themselves tangled in his eyelashes, highlighting their length. His lips curved up ever so slightly, soft and pursed comfortably.
Just as the fierce blush on Dream's skin began to subside, George's gaze fell from his blond hair to his eyes, effectively forcing crimson up his neck again. He gasped slightly, locked into the eye contact. George just smiled, proud of the effect he was having.
Dream felt a slow shiver come through him again, but this one was much different than the ones before. This one carried no fear, rather a flutter. He chewed the inside of his cheek again, completely dissolving into the soft tread of fingers through his hair.
George noticed the bite and looked down, eyes falling gracelessly onto Dream's lips. His hand slowed its pass, instead making its way down to Dream's temple. He smoothed his thumb over the skin, gently caressing up and down the side of Dream's face absentmindedly. When he looked back up, he was met with warm eyes yet again.
Dream leaned into the touch, hands grasping at his shirt under the covers to prevent reaching out for George. The song playing washed over him, melody dancing with the butterflies in his stomach. This was definitely new.
Despite the volume of the music and the way George stole all his attention, Dream tensed up as an equally loud growl of thunder caved the room in. He chuckled quietly, cursing the weather but also being infinitely thankful for it.
The movement had halted on his temple, and George was propped up with his hand simply hovering over Dream's burning skin. The Brit's eyes were no longer locked on his own, but instead running over his face, a look in his irises that turned Dream's gut inside out.
"Do you..." Dream hesitated, "do you have any other distractions?"
George stroked Dream's hairline once, giving it a smooth, slow pass, as if to give himself some time to think.
"One more," he whispered.
His fingers trailed from Dream's temple to his jaw, gently bringing him upwards. George leaned down, stopping just short of making contact. The blond could feel warm breath just above his chin, snaking its way between his parted lips, and he couldn't fight the flutter of his eyes as they drew closed. Whatever was happening was making his heart pull itself into a million directions. The brunet's body being so close was both too much and not enough.
George was taking too long, Dream decided as he angled his face up the tiniest degree. Their lips met lighter than an angel's touch; almost blink-and-you'll-miss-it. It was only after the initial shock passed that George leaned farther in, solidifying his movements. He breathed out, humming in ease and giving his all to the blond bundle underneath him. Dream released the material of his shirt, instead reaching out to clutch George's collar and pull him close.
The warmth on Dream's lips was overwhelming. His fingertips were fuzzy where they held George's shirt, mind clouded over with nothing but the intoxicating drag against his mouth that he felt already getting addicted to. George pulled away for a split second, taking a breath before planting several slow, sweet kisses on Dream's lower lip. Even when they both had to part to breathe, they didn't fully separate; George just lay with his soft smile pressed gently against Dream's loopy one.
Dream could probably live in a thunderstorm now, if it meant it would always be like this.
3464 words