Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Heh,” Geo snickers as he hangs out on Dream’s sofa.

“Stop messing with my fanbase,” Dream complained from where he sat at his set-up. He leans back in his gamer chair as Geo smiles sweetly and starts liking more tweets popping up on his timeline. He’s kind of a little shit, except that would be wrong — because he’s taller than this tiny bitch. Ha. Suck it.

“What can I say? It’s easy to rile you up,” he teases, and begins throwing all caution to the wind. He’s aware that his likes are public, and it is so fun seeing the entire fandom scramble as he likes a piece of Dreosquare fanart. “Plus — they’re loving my fit check. And they’re right about that.”

“You’re just in all black? Why did that pass the fit check?”

“Because in comparison — you don’t have any style, Walmart Florida man,” he smiles sweetly as he bites back. Fuck Dream’s shoes. They are a hate crime to humanity. They should rot in hell for their crimes. 

Dream snorts and stretches, done with editing a video for the day. “They say that now. Good thing they’ve never seen me in that one sleeveless turtleneck you got me, huh?”

Geo stays silent.

And the blond cackles like a goddamn supervillain. He hopes that Dream chokes on his own spit somehow. “C’mon, I know you also loved that one,” he teases back like the fucking Leo with an enormous ego he is. He can’t let Geo have anything, huh? “I know you have it saved in your gallery.”

“Me? Please.” That’s just flattery of himself. This man’s ego is too enormous. Geo rolls his eyes. So what if he did have a photo saved? Dream had all of Geo’s fit checks saved on his phone and laptop like the absolute simp he is. He’s a hypocrite. “Talk to me about it when you’ve deleted every picture you have of me.”

“You do the same thing. Just say it’s a mutual feeling.”

“No, it’s not,” He lies as he starts discreetly deleting pictures from his gallery.

“Ojay... why are you blushing, then?” 

“No, I’m not.” He denies again, like a liar. He scrolls faster through his Twitter feed, filled with his simps. Hell yeah. Geosquare, king of fit checks, taking over the world — one fit check at a time.

“Now who’s a liar?” Dream teases as he sits down beside him.

“Still you, Mr. 1-In-7.5-Trillion,” he bites as he leans back from the blond’s hug, but both of them know the insults are all empty. 

“You’re right. I am your Mr. 1-In-7.5-Trillion.”

“Now, that’s just dumb,” Geo says as he swats at the blond’s shoulder. “Stop using my stats for your own gain.”

“I’ll use my stats this time then... Mr. 1-In-10-Million.”

Jesus Christ. He groans, and mentally rethinks this whole relationship thing. This man isn’t the hilarious sibling in the family. All he does is look like a clown with those shoes. Speaking of the shoes — maybe he should use the suggestions for his shoe game for Dream instead. Those red thigh-high boots are looking kind of...

Anyways. He snaps out of that train of thought before it derails and he becomes a verbal train wreck, so he goes back to criticizing that stat. “Ten million? Is this a way of implying I’m not as special as you are, Clay Dream? Or...?

“ What? No. You’re more than special to me, Geo.”

“Oh, yeah? Prove it.”

“Do I have to? You’re sitting with me here, right now.”

“And how does that make me special?”

“Because I love you, and if I’m really 1-in-7.5-trillion, then isn’t it lucky that you matter more to me than that 1-in-7.5-trillion bullshit odds you accuse me of?” Dream says, but he knows under the layer of bullshit that this man is talking, it’s real. The words fall from his mouth earnestly and easily, without any hesitation. “You call me lucky — but if your stats were right, then you’d be the luckiest man alive.”

Maybe he lied — maybe he did cheat, but he doesn’t doubt that maybe... he’s being real after all.

“I — oh, fuck you. My stats are perfect,” Geo scoffs as he ducks his head away. “Shut up, you cheat. You’re cringe, you know that?” He complains as he shoves Dream’s grinning face away.

God bless him, and God give him patience.  This man — this fucking cheater — is just annoyingly endearing and it is taking all his self-control not to choke-slam Dream on the spot and leave his mangled corpse for the alligators or whatever bullshit animal roaming the streets of Orlando, Florida today to find.

And hmm. Ojay.

Maybe he can see the appeal of this Florida man.

And maybe.

Just maybe.

Maybe... Dream didn’t cheat after all.