Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Being friends with his ex shouldn’t have been something difficult to do. 

George had been with countless dudes before, and he managed to remain friends with most of them. Some, of course, wanted nothing to do with George— rightfully so— and were never spoken to again. However, most of the guys had no bad blood with the brunet, and decided to stick by him for quite a long while. 

He thought it would be the same with Dream. The pair had a romance that burned like a flame on a matchstick; intense and oh so hot. They scorched through each other like a white hot forest fire until somehow, there was no more fuel left. 

That’s all that happened. They ran out of love to give. Intimacy became forced, quiet mornings were filled with tension, and “see you later” turned into “goodbye”. 

There were no hard feelings. The spark just wasn’t there anymore, and George and Dream drifted apart. 

Shortly after Dream finally broke up with George, the awkward conversation of remaining friends came up, and Dream was more than happy to welcome George back into his life as a friend. So when Dream texted and asked George to come over to help him buy stuff for his halloween costume, George was excited. 

However, sitting next to the blond as he laid on his bed and scrolled through a fabric store on his laptop made George feel… strange. 

The sheets were exactly the same as he remembered— soft and silky, perfect for gripping when he was sprawled out on his back with Dream’s head between his legs sucking dark hickies onto the milky skin of his inner thighs. The same gaming chair remained pushed into his desk. George remembered sitting under there with lips wrapped around Dream’s leaking cock as he held back strangled moans from entering his microphone. Even the handcuffs stayed hung on the wall opposite the bed. George felt faint as he tried to get that memory to subside. 

“I was thinking… I could either do a vampire, or—“ Dream’s lazy tone was cut off. He sat up a little on his elbow, turning to face George. “Are you even listening to me, dude?”

“I’m listening! I promise.” George snorted, “Go on.”

A moment of hesitation. Dream raised a brow in George’s direction, coupled with a half smirk. 

“Or, I’d do something like one of those pink guys from Squid Game. What do you think?” 

“Hm. Maybe try the Squid Game guy. It’s popular right now, right?” George said, absentmindedly picking at the stickers on his phone case. 

“You don’t even know what it is, do you?” Dream asked, though it was less of a question and more of a disappointed statement. 

George shook his head, chuckling. “I don’t, but I’m sure you’re gonna tell me anyway.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” Dream fake laughed, “You’re so nice, George.”

“Oh, I know I am, baby. I’m real charming, you should get to know me better.” George shot back, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Those bottle green eyes caught him, and no matter how hard George tried to look away, he really couldn’t. They bored holes into his face, leaving a trail of scorching hot blush as they explored the curves of his face and jaw with no regard to their current status. 

“You know, this is hard.” Dream sucked his teeth, finally turning away slightly, “You’re still acting like… like we’re together.”

“I’m acting like me, Dream.” George said softly, not really sure how to respond, “I’m just being myself. Joking around.”

Dream looked like he wanted to say something, but the words died in his throat. A soft sigh left his lips as eyes fixated on the screen in front of him. Soon, though, the laptop was slammed shut, and Dream turned with an abruptness towards the brunet. 

Without a second thought, Dream grabbed George’s jaw and kissed him. 

A kiss that was hungry, and hot, and wet— a kiss that screamed I want you. George was quick to press into it, slick lips becoming even wetter with the heat of tongues sliding past each other’s defenses. Dream’s fingers tugged George closer to him, sitting up from his previous position to pull George into his lap with practiced ease. 

George let himself be manhandled, lifted by his hips and waist to be pressed down onto Dream’s growing boner. The pair hissed with the friction— a feeling so familiar and so missed by both parties. 

“You’re fucking stupid.” George said breathily against Dream’s lips between kisses, words growing more and more aggressive as he continued. “Talking about me still thinking we’re together. Look at you, hard as a fucking rock under there and from what? You’ve been thinking about me, haven't you?”

“Since you walked in the door, baby boy.” Dream nearly growled, letting his lips fall to bite hard on George’s neck. 

“You little whore.” George chuckled through a soft moan.

With desperate hands, Dream slid George’s sweatpants down, revealing a pleasant surprise. Cute pink panties hugged his hips perfectly, adorned with ribbons that laced up the middle, only barely obscuring his hardening cock. 

His little secret. 

“You’re not all that innocent, are you, Georgie?” Dream ran a finger over the thin garment, “You wanted this to happen.”

“More than you know.”

“Slut.” 

Dream came up hungrily from George’s neck, pressing bruisingly rough kisses into his lips. They parted messily to let Dream’s tongue explore his mouth as the sweatpants he wore were slowly and awkwardly removed from his legs. Dream started on his own clothes, and soon enough, the blond was naked under George’s also very scantily clad body. 

George knew that this was wrong. They only just broke up— there was no way this was helping their emotional statuses. Oh, but when Dream rolled his hips up, pressing the all too familiar throbbing bulge in his boxers between George’s spread legs, it all felt so right. 

Heat and friction built up between the two, rutting against each other with hands leaving electrified trails over chests and sides and hips. Soft, needy sounds filled the tense air between them, occupying space as dirty words were muttered angrily to each other. 

“You’re so fucking desperate,” Dream chuckled darkly, “You just wanna bounce on my dick and cry out my name.”

George held back a moan, opting to hum as he leaned into Dream’s chest below, arching his back. If there was anything George was good at, it was pushing all of Dream’s buttons.

“You wish you could fuck me again.” George teased, “Look at us, all rabid with this tension… and you can’t seem to muster up the courage to rip these little panties off me and pile drive me into the bed. Shame.”

“Fuck you.” Dream spat, red hot anger rising in his chest. George could practically smell it radiating from him. 

Dream’s quick but clumsy hand fumbled for the lube that George remembered retrieving many times in the past. It sat in the same drawer as it always did— some things never change. 

The cap flicked open and Dream slid the front of his boxers down, finally letting his cock bounce free. It was soon coated in a bit of the sticky lube while Dream’s other hand pushed George’s pink underwear to the side. 

“No prep?” George asked, a hint of excitement in his voice. 

“Please, my dick fits perfectly inside you. You’re my personal fucking cocksleeve.” 

George held back a moan with teeth biting his bottom lip so tight he tasted blood. His head was spinning at the thought of how hot this all was, how good he’d feel in just a couple moments. 

If George was being honest, the best partner he had was Dream. At least, in terms of sex. The guy fucked like a god; and he looked like one too with his perfect bones and tight freckled skin that fit him perfectly. He always knew what George wanted and how he wanted it— sometimes before even George knew himself. 

With no warning, Dream pressed his tip against George’s hole and let it rub against the tight entrance a couple times, drawing little whines from George’s throat. 

“Y-you always take too fucking long,” George complained. 

George reached his hand behind himself, desperation setting in as he wrapped his fingers around the wet, throbbing cock under him. He held it in place and lowered his hips down onto it with burning thighs and gasped when the head was finally engulfed in his tight hole. 

Dream’s hands drifted from George’s hips to the bulge in the front of his lacey panties, dragging them to the side even more to let his dick slide out. As George lowered, slowly getting used to the fullness, Dream took his cock into his hand and pumped it lazily, swiping a bead of precum from his slit across the tip and forcing a slight gasp from the smaller. 

George could tell Dream was resisting his urge to slam up into him. He always tried to hold back, despite George’s protests in the past, and it seemed that being broken up hadn’t changed anything. It was cute, really, and would have been even cuter if Dream wasn’t rolling his hips, impatiently brushing against the bundle of nerves deep inside of him. 

With a clouded mind and sore thighs, George finally gave in and let Dream bottom out, both of them letting out soft moans in unison. 

“You fit so well inside me.” George teased, leaning forward to meet Dream halfway for a kiss. 

The blond pressed their lips together in a heated kiss that left George nearly breathless, and finished the job with a couple rough thrusts to knock the rest of the air out of the smaller’s lungs. 

“F-fuck, I’ve missed this.” George whined against Dream’s lips. 

It was Dream’s turn to tease, “Missed me inside you? Ramming into you until you see stars?” His words were breathy and whispered into the shell of George’s ear, “Fucking you ‘till your legs shake?”

George nodded in agreement, humming between strangled moans as he held himself up on his palms hovering above Dream. Dream held tight to his hips and moved them for George, lifting him up and slamming him back down on his cock with slick slapping sounds. Dream’s dick slid in and out with little resistance. Dream was right— he really did fit perfectly in George’s tight little hole. 

“I’m fucking close— ah, Dream, I’m so close.” George whined, straightening up a bit. 

George sat up, helping Dream set the pace with agonizing bounces. The heat in his stomach boiled and churned inside of him, little whines and noises growing louder with every second. 

It was rough, and messy, and desperate; slick slaps of skin against skin and hot breaths steamed up the room. George steadied himself sitting up a bit better, a hand wrapping around his cock to give it a couple pumps and help him over the edge. 

“Come on, baby,” Dream mused through grunts, “Cum for me.”

With a string of curses and long, slutty moans, George’s vision blurred into flashes of white hot pleasure. Ribbons of cum sprawled over Dream’s chest as Dream’s hips stuttered, head pressed backto the pillows underneath. 

Dream couldn’t handle the newfound tightness around him— it made him overflow and reach his climax without any warning, shallowly rutting as far into George as he could manage. Hot cum pooled inside the brunet, seeping out around Dream’s cock as he groaned into the tense air, chasing the fleeting pleasure deep in his stomach. 

George was quick to pull himself off Dream’s dick, as soon as he felt it stop leaking, he slid off with a lewd pop that made both of them groan. He leaned forward, catching his breath as he hovered over Dream for a moment before flopping over. He laid down in the sheets next to Dream’s sweaty body, listening to the sound of the blond’s ragged breathing. 

That felt wrong. Very wrong. 

The silence was no longer comforting. 

Dream hummed, a soft, neutral sound that George couldn’t use to pick his mind. He watched as Dream’s hands rubbed at his face harshly, a heavy sigh leaving his nose turning into a groan part way through. 

“Is this gonna be a thing now?” Dream asked softly, not turning to look George in the eye. His cheeks were burning ruby red. 

“Is what gonna—“

“This. Us. Having sex.” Dream cut him off, snappy tone biting at George’s chest. 

A moment passed. George sat up on his sore ass, cursing himself to not cleaning himself up. He’s definitely made a mess of Dream’s sheets.

“It was nice.” George lied. 

Well, maybe it wasn’t a lie. It was nice, he missed it more than anything. But… Something felt off. Strange. 

“We don’t have to if you don't want to.” George added after Dream stayed silent, “But if you do, I have no problem with it.”

“So what are we, then?” Dream hadn’t even looked his way yet, “Friends who… just so happen to fuck?”

“Yeah.” George answered. 

“Just friends, right?”

Just friends…

“Right.”

Dream was lost in thought. George knew that look. His eyes zoned out, an expression on his face that looked like he had just frozen in the last emotion he had felt. Something George had seen a lot of towards the end of their relationship. 

George swung his legs over the edge of the bed, adjusting the panties to cover himself again, even though they were pretty messy. Slowly standing on wobbly legs, George knelt to pick up his abandoned clothes off Dream’s floor. 

“I think I’d better go.” George said, small and hoarse. 

“Right. You know the way out.” Dream waved nonchalantly from his unmoving position on the bed, “See you?”

“See you.” George replied with a smile and a wave, but Dream didn’t bother looking. 

George : hey

George : i’m sorry if that was weird today

George : we don’t have to keep doing it if you don't want to. 

Dream : No, don’t worry about it. It just felt really weird at the moment, but I feel better now.

George : are you sure?

Dream : I’m sure :)

Dream : See you next weekend? 

Dream : ;)

Chapter Text

“Are you sure it’s okay that I invited Dream?”

“Why wouldn’t it be okay, Karl?” George asked the fluffy haired boy, “It’s a party, and it's yours. Invite who you want.”

Karl made his way over to George’s seat on the couch, ruffling his hair around and making George swat him away. 

“Correction,” Karl gave George’s head a little shove as he let go, sitting next to him as he grabbed the box of old horror DVDs, “It’s a movie night. I’m not having a party ‘till halloween.”

“Right.” George rolled his eyes, tugging the box closer to him once more.

“Plus, you’re, like, my best friend. I always want you to be comfortable. If you don’t want Dream here, I’ll make sure Sap keeps him out or something.” 

George’s chest warmed. Karl was really a good guy, even if he was a little obnoxious at times. 

“Thank you.” George smiled, “But it’s okay. Dream can come. We’ve… made up. We’re friends still.”

“Okay, then.” Karl raised his brows George’s way, lips cocking up into a smirk before it faded away with his words, “Glad to hear it. Maybe I’ll invite him to the fair next week, too.”

George hummed. That would be nice. A little fair date with Dream…

Or, well, no— not a date. Not a date. George struggled to push down the butterflies that grew with the thought of holding Dream’s hand as they share cotton candy. 

He let his fingers idly scan over dusty disc cases with cheesy graphics of blood and knives on the covers. There were a lot of classic movies in the bunch, like Scream and Halloween, but there were also a bunch of weird looking ones that made George scoff. 

Karl trusted him to pick out the movies for the night, but if George was being honest, he wasn’t the biggest horror fan. He knew the big names, but that was really it. Part of him wanted to just grab a handful of disc cases and just hope for the best. 

After a couple hours of rummaging through DVDs and Karl explaining the plot of nearly every single one, the sun started to set and let in blinding rays of pink and orange into the window. A couple of people started arriving at Karl's place, and Karl greeted them with big hugs and loud greetings, and soon the place was full of idle chatter in the living room. That was George’s queue to escape to the kitchen to help prepare the snacks. 

Leave it to Karl to buy a case of beer, three boxes of popcorn, and two bags of movie theater candy and call it snacks. George didn’t complain, though. His sweater sleeves were rolled up fast, a beer cracked open with ease as he went to work peeling popcorn bags from their cellophane wrappers

Soon, the sun had lowered past the horizon, leaving the dimly lit house with a spooky ambience that was perfect for watching scary movies with friends. George carried bags of steaming popcorn into the living room, along with most of the candies, dumping everything onto the small coffee table between the couches. 

“What’s up first?” Someone asked. George couldn’t make out many faces— it was quite dark. 

“You'll see!” Karl swatted at them, then shooed George away from the table, “You’re blocking the TV, nimrod.”

George stumbled away past the limbs of a couple guys sat on the floor, scrambling to find somewhere to sit where he wouldn’t be blocking anybody. In the dark, George felt a strong hand grip his forearm and pull him down, causing his heart to skip a beat. 

“Yeah, sit down, Georgie.” 

It was Dream. His legs were crossed as he sat in between the couch and the wall, the television slightly obscured. He grabbed George and tugged until the brunet was nearly falling over. 

“T-there’s no room, Dream.” George whispered, socks tangling with the blanket Dream had draped over his legs on the floor. 

Dream patted his lap, lifting the blanket up to reveal his jean covered thighs. Plush thighs that George knew the feeling of sitting on all too well. 

With a shaky sigh and a red face, George took a seat. 

In Dream’s lap. 

Dream’s hands settled nicely on George’s waist, dragging down to rest on his hips with thumbs hooking right under the waistband of his pants. George felt Dream’s warm breath against the back of his neck, sending tingles down his spine and straight to his dick. Dream knew how sensitive his neck was. 

“Dream…” George breathed out, turning to his side to try to face the blond. 

“Shh, baby.” Dream cooed and pressed his lips onto the base of George’s neck. 

Were they really doing this right now?

“T-there’s people here, Dream…” 

“So?” Dream whispered, leaning into the shell of George’s ear, “That’s never stopped us before.”

George scoffed softly. His face was so red he was glad it was obscured by the darkness of the room, only lit by the occasional flashes of light from the television. If Dream’s hands traveled any lower, they'd pick up on how flustered he was making the brunet. 

He didn’t get the chance to speak again, because Dream gripped his hips dangerously tight and pulled his back flush against his chest. The sudden warmth all over as Dream’s hand wandered up the side if his sweater nearly made George moan out loud, but he held it tight in his throat, eyes clenched shut. With a soft roll of his hips downwards, George finally felt the full length of Dream’s erection hidden under his clothes against his ass, and forced down another moan. 

Just the thought of doing something so dirty like this, trying to be quiet… 

It made George’s mind go wild, and his cock strain uncomfortably against his ever tightening boxers. 

“Let me make you feel good, baby.” Dream mused against George’s skin, fingers already working to untie the strings of his sweatpants. 

Within seconds, George was exposed under the blanket, his bare ass being toyed with by one of Dream’s hands while the other wrapped around his twitching cock. He stifled a gasp with his hand as heat pooled dangerously between his half exposed thighs. 

Might as well have a little fun…

A sigh passed George’s lips as he finally let himself melt into Dream’s touch. Soft, slow jerks woke up his cock and made his hips buck to chase the pleasure that Dream was giving. The rustling blanket was barely audible over the exaggerated screams of a woman running away from a killer on the television, and George was extremely grateful.

Their positioning was also perfect— hidden away behind most of the others, yet far enough in the corner that they were almost completely obscured. 

George couldn’t help but wonder if this was Dream’s plan all along. 

The thoughts soon left his mind as one of Dream’s saliva slicked fingers was pressed against his entrance, sliding into the warmth of his hole with ease. George barely was able to get used to the feeling of one before Dream pushed a second one in right next to the first. His fingers spread softly and slowly as they set a brutally slow pace brushing up against the sweet bundle of nerves deep inside him. 

Dream’s strong fingers gripped his dick just right and stroked him to the same rhythm the fingers inside him created. Red hot pleasure hit George in waves, and he was stuck in the rip current. If Dream didn’t let up soon, George feared the fun would be over much too quick. 

“S-slow down…” George whimpered softly, shaky hands reaching down to hold Dream’s fist steady on his leaking cock. 

Dream obliged, letting go of the cock that was just about ready to burst. He pulled his fingers out of George, and George groaned softly before being shushed by someone on the couch beside him. The fear of being caught sent a shiver down his spine that made his dick bounce. 

George could barely see anything— the darkness of the room, the blanket obscuring Dream’s hands, and the fact that Dream was completely behind him made George hold back soft whines from escaping his throat. He could hear the slow zip of Dream’s jeans behind him, feeling the tough denim finally give way under his ass as it was soon replaced by hot, steamy skin. 

Dream worked up a bit of spit in his mouth and dropped the sticky saliva into his palm before going silent for a moment. George was quivering in anticipation for what seemed like an eternity before Dream leaned in close. 

“Come sit on my dick, sweetheart.”

George didn’t have to be told twice. He lifted himself up on his knees just a bit, letting the blanket fall loosely around his thighs as he backed up. Deliberately swaying his hips side to side, George felt the hot, wet tip of Dream’s cock bump against his skin. 

Quickly, Dream’s hand caught George’s hip tightly, nails digging into the soft flesh just enough to make George whine. Dream steadied his cock right against George’s loosened hole and slid right in, meeting little resistance. 

“Don’t be a fucking tease.” Dream snapped as he bottomed out quickly and roughly. 

George covered his mouth to hold in a long moan, instead pushing out a heavy sigh. Dream’s dick felt as good as always, and the suspense made it even better. 

His hips rolled a couple of times, lifting off Dream’s cock just a bit before letting himself fall back onto it. It prodded at his sweet spot, sending him just enough pleasure to leak more and more precum onto the blanket. He’d have to remember to figure out a way to clean that before Karl found out he was about to cum on one of his decorative throws.

As soon as his pleasure started building with each thrust, though, Dream put a stop to it. His hands gripped onto George’s hips and held him down on his cock tightly, not letting the brunet move anymore. 

“D-Dream…” George whined softly, wiggling his ass in Dream’s lap, begging for even a small thrust. 

“The movie’s quiet right now.” Dream whispered, “We have to be quiet, too.”

George sighed and attempted to lift back up, but Dream was too strong. He knew it wouldn’t work, but it was worth a shot. It was worth the sting of Dream’s bruising grip. 

“I can be quiet.” George stated, humming slightly as Dream’s dick twitched inside of him. 

“No, you can’t.” Dream refuted. 

Dream was right. George was sure he’d have came with a long, slurred string of curses and slutty moans if Dream let him have that little extra bit of friction, and the movie had gone into a suspenseful, quiet scene.

The protagonist walked slowly through an empty dark hall, footsteps echoing. Glimpses of the killer were shown, and every time she turned, he was already gone. Everyone seemed to be on the edge of their seats, yet all George could do was wiggle around and suppress his moans as Dream twitched inside of him. 

Dream’s cock was moving quite a bit, just not the way George wanted. Not the way he craved. The little movements were nothing, and if George had it his way, he’d lift himself all the way up to Dream’s leaking tip and slam himself down over and over until he was seeing stars. 

Unfortunately, Dream had other plans. 

George sat on his dick for god knows how long. It felt like forever— his walls clenching around Dream’s length, and Dream twitching and leaking inside of him with soft little whimpers on his neck. 

With a burning stomach full of butterflies, and an aching cock begging for release, George let out a frustrated groan at the screen. 

“The fucking guy’s right behind you, idiot!” George yelled at the woman on the TV, earning a chorus of shushes from everyone watching. 

As if the gods listened to George’s plea, the movie finally picked up speed again with loud, suspenseful music while screams bounced off the walls. The sudden burst of energy in the movie came as a wave of relief. 

Dream chuckled to himself, pressing his lips against the nape of George’s neck once again. 

“You got lucky.” Dream scoffed against the warm skin, “Little slut.”

George whined at the words being spoken onto his sensitive skin, tingles spreading across his back and chest like a fire. Without warning, Dream’s hands lifted George up by his waist and returned to fucking George as rough and yet as quietly as he could. 

Dream’s thrusts picked up speed, hands guiding George’s hips leaving marks on the pale skin as he used George like a fuck toy. George had to brace himself against the arm of the couch as he took it all, a hand clenched over his mouth to attempt to hold in his noises. Only a couple spilled out before he felt Dream’s hot cum start to spurt out inside of him, filling him up so nicely. 

Not too long after, George found himself stroking his cock to bring about his own orgasm, and fuck, did it feel so good. George’s head lulled back as white overtook his vision, leaning against Dream’s shoulder behind him as he came in a puddle that soaked into the blanket that covered their lewd display. 

George’s high lasted but a short moment before he was snapped back to reality by an ear piercing shriek from the television. Once he was finally grounded once again, he let Dream pull out with an unsavory sensation. Very quickly, George realized a problem. A messy problem. 

“Dream.” George whispered harshly, “Dream! This is a mess! What are we supposed to do?” 

“Shush,” Dream gave George a whack on his thigh, “Pull up your fucking pants. I’ll handle this.”

George grumbled to himself, but slowly put his clothes back into place before helping Dream do the same. Dream slowly let George slide off his lap, carefully resting him on his sore ass with a promise to return. 

When Dream did come back, his footsteps were a little uneven sounding, and as they got closer, they stumbled. Before George could react, Dream was halfway fallen over him, and nearly a full bottle of beer was poured into his lap. 

George took in a sharp gasp, “What the fuck is your problem?!” 

The attention of a couple watchers was caught, and soon enough, Karl made his way over to the commotion. 

“Just play along.” Dream whispered to George, slowly standing himself upright. 

“What’s wrong?” Karl seemed incredibly concerned, hand reaching out to rub small circles onto George’s back. 

“I-I’m so sorry, George, really,” Dream apologized profusely, giving George a nudge to say something believable, “I didn’t see you there.”

“It’s… It’s fine.” George sighed, scrunching up the blanket to hide the cum in the pool of beer, “I’m just completely fucking soaked and so is this blanket, so thank you, Dream.”

“I’m sorry.” Dream apologized again.

“I said it’s fine.” George snapped, and for a second, it felt a little too real. 

“Oh, George,” Karl sighed, “Jesus, come with me, I’ll get you some new pants.” 

George stook shakily, blaming his wobbliness on his legs being asleep under his breath. Karl led him up towards the steps, prompting him to go up to the bedroom. 

“If you spilled that on purpose, you’re dead, Dream.” Karl threatened before disappearing up the stairs. George could hear Dream’s sighs as he reached the top of the steps.

Well, at least Dream was a good enough actor. 

“Did you see the look on his face?” Dream laughed, smacking his palm against the steering wheel. 

Karl made Dream drive George home. Partially because Dream had made the whole beer spilling scene, and partially because Karl was drunk off his ass by the time the movies ended. Dream had no problem with it, though. He never did. 

“I can’t believe we did that.” George scoffed, still in disbelief. 

Just the thought of the prior sneaky actions made George’s cheeks burn. 

“Oh, please, we’ve done it in plenty of places full of people.” Dream rolled his eyes, “Don't you remember that time on your birthday when we went to the mall and—“

“But we were together then.” George butted in, “Now we’re not. It's much… riskier, I guess.”

“I guess.” Dream repeated before falling silent. 

A couple more turns and Dream was finally pulling into George’s driveway with bright headlights. George unbuckled himself and grabbed his back of beer soaked pants, opening the car door slightly. 

“Good night, Dream.”

“Good night,” Dream repeated, “Love you.”

George stopped dead in his tracks. 

Love you. 

Small words that held so much weight. Small words that had become so normal in their relationship, it felt weird without them. Somehow, George thought, it had become weird with them as well. 

“Sorry, I-I don’t know where that came from.” Dream apologized, “I didn’t mean to— nevermind.” A nervous laugh, “Just forget about it. Good night, George.”

“Dream,” George sighed and slumped back into his seat, “I think… maybe we should stop this. The whole… friends with benefits thing. I don’t want to blur the lines…”

I don’t want to blur the lines more than they already are. 

“Why not?” Dream asked softly after a second of silence, and George finally turned to meet his gaze. 

Piercing green eyes bored holes straight through George’s brown ones. His face was warm and his chest ached, but he kept the burning tears stuck in the corners of his eyes. 

“I don’t know.” George answered, “I don’t know.“

“It’s fun.” Dream chuckled, letting his eyes flick down to George’s lips, “To blur the lines sometimes.”

This is so fucking dangerous. The tension could be cut with a knife, hanging heavy in the quiet interior of the car. George’s stomach came alive again with butterflies that acted for him.

Without thinking, George leaned forwards and met Dream’s lips in a kiss. A warm, pleasant kiss that made George’s chest bubble. Dream barely kissed back; he was hesitant and frozen in place. 

“How’s that for blurring lines?” George scoffed, “Good night, Dream.” 

The car door was opened once again, then slammed shut, and George was practically shaking as he entered his front door. Once the headlights disappeared, he wiped the little tears that had made their way down his cheeks. 

Man, were they fucked. 

Chapter Text

The fall carnival. A place that smelled like cinnamon and warm pine, yet sounded like the fleeting of summer as kids ran around in oversized jackets and loud fair rides creaked. Low pop music tied the whole event together, and despite seeing very few speakers, the constant loop of Taylor Swift, Harry Styles and other various artists was always audible. 

It was almost perfect. Almost.

George decided to join Karl, since he didn’t have a date this year. He found himself hanging out with a bunch of friends as they cradled hot paper cups of steaming apple cider, huddled close together in line for hotdogs. Among the group was Sapnap, Alex, and a bunch of Karl’s friends he didn’t know very well. 

Oh, and Dream. Of course Dream was there. That’s why it wasn’t perfect. 

Him and his beautiful eyes looking him up and down and practically undressing him right where he stood. In fact, he swore he felt his jacket unzip just a bit farther. It was lewd, really, but George couldn’t help but look at Dream in quite a similar way. 

George wasn’t sure what it was about Dream today, but it was… strange. They hadn’t spoken much since their kiss after Karl’s movie night, and George was terrified he had pushed some kind of unspoken boundary. It was apparent now that he did not, if Dream’s eyebrow twitch as he stared at his lips meant anything. 

Food was ordered quickly and the group barely waited five minutes before their orders were cooked and ready. With cheers and smiles, they gathered their shitty fair hotdogs and found an unoccupied table under a tent. 

“No— Sap, shut up, stupid,” Karl giggled, playfully pushing Sapnap’s shoulder. 

“I’m just saying— don’t call me stupid, stupid.” Sapnap pushed him back, taking a swig of his cider, “We should go on that one next.”

George’s eyes followed Sapnap’s pointed finger to the brightly colored ride in the sky. Orange seats surrounded the green frame and were pulled up by clanking chains that anyone could hear clicking and locking the ride in place from across the whole fair. George watched the seats reach the top and stall for just a moment with a release of steam from the machinery. In a millisecond, the ride was let go, dropping the passengers to the bottom with screams of fear. 

“No thank you.” George scoffed. He felt ill just watching the tower sway in the wind. 

“You’re such a buzzkill, Gogy.” Alex commented, throwing in the nickname that’s haunted him for god knows how long. 

“Well, you can stay down here on the ground and be lame,” Karl stuck out his tongue, emphasizing George’s lameness, “And we’ll go have fun. Seriously, you paid, what, thirty bucks for a wristband and you're not gonna go on any rides?”

“I-I’ll go on rides.” George refuted, matter-of-factly, “I just… Don’t want to go on that one. It’s so unsafe.”

“Do you think they’d let little kids on there if it was really unsafe, Gogs?” Sapnap prodded, chewing the last bit of his hotdog. 

“I don't know, do you think you’d have more friends if you didn’t talk with your mouth full?” George stabbed back, making playful fun of the situation to bring the heat off his hatred for roller coasters. 

George’s one liner earned him a chorus of chuckles and stifled laughs from the group as Sapnap’s lip curled in annoyance. Even Dream held back a laugh with a snort into his cup. 

“Well, have fun by yourself, then.” Sapnap scoffed with crossed arms, “‘Cause we’re all going.”

“Who said we’re all going?” Dream seemed taken aback a little. 

“I did. What, you scared too?”

“I just ate, Sap.” 

“Excuses.” Sapnap nudged Karl as he snickered, “You guys can hold our shit, then.”

“I’m not holding anybody’s shit.” George butted in immediately, and Dream looked grateful for the distraction, “If you hand me a single one of your belongings I will toss it right in the bin.”

“I will toss it right in the bin.” Sapnap mocked George’s accent in a high pitched voice, getting a rise of laughs from the group once more. 

“Fuck off.” 

With full, warm stomachs, the group dispersed around the carnival with quick parting words and little else. George and Dream were the final two at the table, awaiting each other’s words that seemed like they’d never come. 

Finally, George broke the silence. 

“Dream, I—“

At the same time, Dream spoke as well. 

“George—“

Awkward giggles filled the air. George let his gaze fall down Dream’s flannel shirt, down to his fingers that rubbed circles on the rim of his empty cup absentmindedly. 

“You first.” George said softly. 

“I’m sorry I made it awkward.” Dream rubbed the back of his neck, “The other night when I dropped you off.”

Right. That. 

I love you.

George waved his hand dismissively, “It’s ok. It wasn’t awkward.”

It was. 

“Or, at least… It’s not anymore.” George added. 

“Good.” Dream sighed. George could practically feel the weight fly off his shoulders like a flock of crows out of a tree. 

Another silence. More comfortable this time, though. A quietness with the buzzing of games and roller coasters on tracks, kids screaming from joy and fear, and so, so much talking. Not from George nor Dream, though. Their conversations were kept short and sweet. 

“Wanna go do stuff?” Dream suggested, jutting a thumb behind him. 

“Like what?” George asked. 

Dream shrugged. “Games? I bet I’ll beat your ass at whack-a-mole.”

“Oh, you're on.”

Fifteen dollars and five games later, Dream had utterly whipped George’s ass. He was just too fast— his reflexes were godlike. 

At the last buzzer ring, a fifth little frog plushie was added to the pile Dream had amassed. They sat cradled under his forearm peeking out endearingly, and George felt his face flush just looking at the blond acting so cute. 

“You fucking suck!” Dream laughed, pumping his free arm up in a cheer. He was so gentle with the baby frogs, even though he was celebrating like a madman. “You actually suck!”

George sucked his teeth and rolled his eyes with crossed arms. Leave it to Dream to say some dumb shit that almost made him loose his cuteness. 

Almost. 

“Sir,” The whack-a-mole attendant leaned over her booth to get Dream’s attention, “Sir, would you like to trade your prizes for a larger one?”

Dream’s eyes lit up with childlike luminescence, and George swore if he had any more butterflies in his stomach, he’d fly away. The green irises were filled with black pupils as they dilated, staring up above his head at bright flashing lights towards the large hanging stuffed prizes. 

Along the edge of the booth hung a myriad of brightly colored stuffed animals; teddy bears of countless neon colors, big bananas with faces and llamas that sported rainbow fur and sparkly eyes, to name a few, but there was one that stood out to George. 

A black stuffed cat that was stuck inside a plush pumpkin. It’s cute cat face was sewn perfectly in the center, and it made George smile. Only a single one of it’s kind remained, and George’s eyes never left it’s purple ones once. 

George was so entranced by the cuteness of the cat, he forgot about Dream’s cuteness. He also didn’t realize what Dream was doing until the attendant stepped up onto a stool and unhooked the little kitten from the hook on the ceiling. He watched Dream set down each of the little frogs in his arms onto the counter, giving each a pat before surrendering them to the woman in exchange for the cat. 

Of fucking course he would. He must have seen George eyeing that plushie and chosen it for himself, that sick fucking bastard—

“George.” Dream spoke soft, approaching George with scuffed footsteps against concrete. 

“What do you—“ 

George couldn’t finish his sentence. Dream held his newly won plush kitten out to George with fully extended arms and a warm smile. His eyes squinted with the slight chuckle he let out, and George was melting. 

Who knew all it took to make him weak in the knees was a cute boy holding an even cuter cat plushie. 

“For you.” Dream offered the toy, laughing, “You were staring at it like you’d drop dead if you didn’t get it, so… It’s for you!”

George’s chest hurt. His heart was beating against his ribs so hard it could have beat right out of his body, flames spreading goosebumps across chilled skin as he stared at Dream’s gift. It was so…

Endearing. 

“Are you… gonna take it, or should I ask for my frogs back?” Dream’s brows furrowed, but his dopey smile remained. 

George reached out quickly, grasping the soft fabric in his palms like his life depended on it. The cat smushed in his grip, and George felt the little stuffed animal open a portal directly to his soul. Dream had no idea how much this stupid stuffed animal meant to George. 

“Thank you.” 

George smiled widely, cradling the cat close to his chest, tucking it inside his partially unzipped jacket to hang out against his warmth as they walked. Dream chuckled a bit at George’s attachment to the animal. 

“Wanna do that haunted house? It’s meant for kids, but, I mean, maybe it’ll actually be scary, who knows?“ Dream shrugged. 

A short walk across fairgrounds brought the pair to the entrance of the ‘ride’. It was more of a five minute walk through dark, twisting corridors full of scary sound effects than a ride, but the pair still ended up clinging onto each other in fear by the end. Maybe they were both scaredy-cats. 

Eventually, tightly wrapped arms turned into intertwined fingers, clammy palms pressed together creating their own heat as thumbs rubbed soothing circles on pale, freckled skin. Maybe the hand holding was pushing another boundary, but neither of them minded it. The intimacy was something George so desperately needed, and judging by the way Dream clung to him, he knew he felt the same. 

The sun was low in the sky, dipping below the horizon of trees and tall rides and painting the sky a beautiful orange hue. It wasn’t very late, though— it was simply the unforgiving nature of autumn plunging the earth into darkness so early in the day. 

Neither Dream nor George saw any of their friends again, but it wasn’t an issue. They had a little bit of quiet time to themselves, and their friends got to go wild on their crazy drop rides and fast coasters. It was a win-win scenario. 

“How about the ferris wheel?” Dream suggested. 

George stared up at the tall contraption that towered above them. The wheel creaked with each movement, carts wavering and rocking in the wind. George honestly had no idea how those tiny support beams held up groups of people at a time. 

Not to mention the sheer height of the thing…

“Sure.” George found himself answering before he could think. 

To say George was terrified would be an understatement. His hands shook so much as he stepped into the wobbly cart, Dream had to pull the bar down over their chests for him. Once locked in place, Dream’s warm hand found George’s again, gripping it tight a couple times to get his attention. 

“You’ll be okay.” Dream’s soft smile penetrated George’s defenses and made George smile back. 

Dream had a way of doing that quite often. 

“I hope.”

Within moments, the wheel began to spin, and George’s grip on Dream’s hand tightened exponentially. His white knuckles held onto the blond and the railing as tight as he possibly could, loathing the feeling of being lifted off the ground. 

George’s eyes screwed shut, and he found himself drifting ever so closer to Dream on their short bench. 

The wheel spun around fully twice, and by the time George felt it slow down and opened his eyes, the sun was even further gone. It would have been beautiful if they weren’t fifty feet off the ground. 

George took in shaky, deep breaths, trying not tk focus on the sway of the world around him, and the churning in his stomach. Dream’s movement of his hand on George’s was the only thing that brought him back to reality. 

“George—“ Dream seemed genuinely worried, turning carefully to meet George’s gaze, “George, are you okay?”

“No.” George answered with a dry throat. His skin was on fire. 

“Okay. Okay, uh… How can I help?” 

“I-I don’t… I don’t know.” George breathed softly, face feeling numb. 

“Want me to help you breathe?” Dream continued, “I want to help you, George.”

George thought for a quick moment, coming up with an answer finally. “Distract me?”

Dream took George’s request and ran with it. George was expecting a pinch on the bicep, burning and stinging temporary pain to being him back into the moment. Or, maybe, Dream would start talking and make him annoyed enough to yell and bring him back to his senses. Dream didn’t do either of those, though.

In seconds, Dream’s palm pressed softly against George’s cheek, tugging the brunet into a kiss. 

George’s numbness faded slowly. His ringing ears faded back to reality, and the tingling in his spine was temporarily replaced by butterflies. Dream was so gentle with George, delicate fingers tracing small circles onto his temple and cheek as if he would shatter at any rougher of a touch. 

Dream’s lips were chapped, but so were George’s. The warmth of them was all George needed— the soft curves of Dream’s lips fit perfectly against George’s, and George found his eyes slowly closing. Before George could relax too much, though, Dream pulled back. 

Soft eyes met George’s as their foreheads were pressed together, warm breath mingling between one another as George stole one more intimately vulnerable kiss. 

And in that moment it hit George. 

He was undeniably, unequivocally, without a doubt in love. His heart was soaring. All he wished for was to press their lips together in comfortable heat over and over again, feel his soul intertwine with Dream’s and crawl his way into those deep forest eyes to rest forever. 

But George knew better than to give in. This wasn’t a… a couples kiss. No matter how good, and soft, and real it felt. It was a cheap way of getting George to relax, and he knew it. 

With his mind back in a solid state, George pulled away fully, turning himself back to stare forwards towards the darkening skyline. 

He trembled in his seat, and he was sure the cart was ready to shake off its hinges and drop them into the grave George was already digging for himself. It felt like he had done something horrible like he had just pulled a gun out in a convenience store full of cops, or taken two too many sleeping pills. It was self sabotage, loving Dream. 

He knew the blond would never feel the same. He knew. 

Any hint of affection he got from Dream was to get each other off. Nothing more, and it hurt. 

But when Dream reached his hand over and met George’s cold pinky finger with his warm one, wrapping them together silently and without hesitation, George’s chest ached. God, there were no words in the English language that could describe how much it ached. 

This was bad. 

“You doing okay?” Dream’s soft words melted George even more. 

“‘M fine.” George kept his defenses up. 

Dream let out a smooth sigh, breaking the long silence. 

“I-I’m sorry about that.” Dream started, “Listen, George, I think that I—“

Without a warning, the cart jolted back to life, taking the pair along rickety, lit up tracks down closer and closer to the ground. George jumped at the sudden movement of the ground underneath him, eyes squashing shut as he tensed up tightly. Well, at least that’s one way to get his mind off the startling realization of still being in love with your ex. 

“Whoa, you’re okay.” Dream reassured, sliding closer to George’s small, shaking frame. 

Dream took his hand fully, not making any comments or snide remarks on how much it was shaking, nor about the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes. 

As the ride finally came to a screeching stop at the bottom, George’s eyes finally cracked open just enough for Dream to hold his hands and help him out of the shaking cart. The soles of his shoes reached solid, stable ground, and George could feel the blood that rushed through his ears return to the rest of his body once again. 

“Glad to be off of there, huh?” Dream scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Yes.” George let out a soft, sad chuckle. 

From George’s jacket, he produced the cat plushie, completely squished from how tightly George was clenching every muscle in his body. He gave the poor stuffed animal a silent apology as he fluffed it back up with one hand. 

“What were you… um… gonna say? Up there, I mean.” George finally asked, voice small. 

“Oh, it was nothing.” Dream waved his hand around, then gave George a squeeze. 

They were still holding hands. 

“Y-you sure?” George’s face heated up once again as his voice weakened further. 

“Yeah. I was just gonna say I think I…” A pause. A short one, but it almost gave George hope. “I wanna get cotton candy before we leave.”

There was that ache again. 

“Only if we share.” George demanded, “And only if it’s the blue one.”

Dream laughed. His free hand covered his mouth just a bit, and he laughed a cute little giggle that brought up more tears in George's eyes. Heat rose in George’s face, and he mentally kicked himself, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

Even through cloudy vision and blurry flashing lights, through yelling children and wind wooshing by from nearby carnival rides, Dream looked stunning. 

And George felt absolutely terrible. 

Chapter Text

“Are you sure you’re safe to stay home by yourself?” Dream’s voice was soft and fuzzy in George’s ears from where the blond sat in the driver's seat. 

“‘M fine.” George mumbled, unconvincingly.

Since the ferris wheel, the world felt small, yet so, so large. The ground swayed still under George, threatening to swallow him up whole with its gaping maws that nobody but the brunet could see. 

The tips of George’s fingers numbed, followed by the bridge of his nose, the apples of his cheeks, the space just below his neck and right above his chest. The familiar feeling of nothingness creeped into his seams and made its home. 

“I know how…” Dream stopped himself. 

How what? How self loathing I can be? How self destructive I can be? 

With a soft sigh, Dream stuck on his turn signal and continued, “How bad it can get. When you’re like this, I mean.”

“Yeah.” George found his voice much snappier than intended. 

A hint of silence. George wasn’t sure how long it went on for, could have been seconds, could have been minutes. All he knew was that it ended as soon as Dream parked the car in George’s dark driveway, high beams blinding as they bounced off George’s own car. 

“Good night, George.” Dream smiled soft, leaning back in his seat. 

“Right.” George whispered, “Good night.” 

Stiff fingers reached for the door handle, fumbling around in the dimly lit interior until they wrapped around it and tugged. With the door finally open and the chilled air hitting George’s face and numbing it more, the door was promptly shut again. 

George hated to admit it, but the coldness that struck him to his core was his least favorite thing ever. It’s been a while since he spent such a cold night alone in his horribly heated house, and he loathed the thought of entering into the dark living room by himself. 

“You okay?” Dream asked with a chuckle, “What, the wind slammed the door shut?”

It pained George to speak, but he did anyway. Almost silently, George let out a sigh. 

“Will you… come in with me?” George didn’t make eye contact, didn’t even turn in Dream’s direction. He was surprised the blond even heard his question. 

Without another word, Dream twisted the keys out of the ignition and pocketed them, the driveway fading into darkness along with the dying hum of the engine. George listened as Dream exited the car and waltzed around to the passenger door, pulling it for the brunet. 

The door was widely swung open, and a gust of frosty wind nearly knocked George out. Coldness dug deep into George’s bones and settled, holding onto his very core with its talons. 

George couldn’t move. If he did, he was afraid he’d be torn to shreds. 

“Let’s get inside, George.” Dream’s words remained soft and gentle and warm, “Don’t want you to freeze out here, silly.”

Few glances were exchanged as George exited the vehicle. Cold hands met warm ones, intertwining with pins and needles dancing under paper thin skin. It was a blur, the walk from the car to the house, but it was quick and soon enough, Dream was turning the thermostat as high as it went as they approached George’s bedroom. 

George let himself melt into his bed. He felt like disappearing under the messy pile of sheets and blankets he never bothered cleaning up before leaving the house. They engulfed his small frame and held him in a loose, loveless embrace. 

Dream’s weight on the edge of the bed made George turn his head lazily to watch the blond’s fond smile grow. 

“You okay?” His words were soft and George knew he knew the answer he’d get already. 

“No.”

“That’s okay.” Dream sighed, “It’s okay to not be okay sometimes. I’ll be here with you.” 

The words were exactly what George needed. Exactly what Dream knew he needed. Dream reached out an arm in the darkness to ruffle George’s hair with soft, warm fingertips. 

George stared. The moonlight from the half obscured window carved out the curves of Dream’s jaw and cheeks and all the dips on his face in stunning, ever shifting detail. With every soft flick of Dream’s eyes, the stars filled those irises beautifully. 

He felt sick to his stomach. 

Tears, hot and stinging tears staining Dream’s shoulder fell from George’s eyes. He wouldn’t have been able to stop them no matter what he did, but he still felt bad when he looked at the puddle in his lover’s stretched out shirt. 

Despite his blubbering and nonsensical complaints, pleas, and everything in between, Dream never left. He held the smaller boy in his lap, cradling the small of his back with fingers that trailed along his spine and ribs in an attempt to sooth George. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Dream cooed, hands finding their way to George’s cheeks, “You’re safe with me, okay?”

Dream placed a kiss on George’s wet, trembling lips. George caught his breath and wiped the tears harshly from his eyes with his fists, staring back at his boyfriend with cloudy, burning eyes. 

Quickly, though, he felt bile in the back of his throat forcing more tears to spill while he swallowed it all down. George’s face buried deep into the crook of the blond’s neck while violent sobs racked his body. 

Dream never complained. He never rolled his eyes or sucked his teeth at George’s anxieties. He never even pushed George to tell him what was wrong. 

He was always there.

That was enough for George.

Suddenly, Dream’s fingers stopped their soft rubbing against George’s scalp, and George whined weakly. 

“George…” Dream jokingly whined back, “It's uncomfortable to keep leaning over like that.”

George sighed heavily and buried his face back into the sheets for a moment. With all the effort he could muster, the brunet turned back to Dream with soft, tired, pleading eyes. 

“Lie with me?” His voice was barely a whisper, crackling with remnants of tears coating his throat thickly. 

Dream obliged with barely a beat of hesitation, kicking his shoes off and dropping his jacket to the already messy floor before swinging his legs up onto the bed. George dragged himself upward through the mess of tangled blankets and limbs to reach for Dream’s soft, warm body. 

“You’re shaking.”

“Y-you’re shaking!” Dream had said, the nervousness in his voice obvious. 

George couldn’t help it. His limbs were numb but they moved without his consent, jittery and twitching. The shaking rattled his bones, coming in waves that chattered his teeth and made him grip ever tighter to the comfort of the blond’s body. 

“S-sorry…” George apologized, “It’ll… it’ll go away. Just… hold me ‘till then?”

Dream didn’t have to be told twice. His grip tightened, holding George’s small frame as close as possible, almost shaking himself from how close they had become. 

He was always there. 

George didn’t notice the slight twitching of his fingers and other muscles until Dream pointed it out, and it only seemed to make George slightly more aware of his body. 

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, George, my god.” Dream sounded exasperated, but George knew he wasn’t actually upset. 

“Sorry.” George repeated again, smaller. 

“If you say you’re sorry again, I’ll give you something to be sorry about.”

George almost chuckled at that lackluster attempt at a threat. He remembered his parents using that one, but the effect quickly wore off when he realized there was no real danger present. Thinking about his family brought a combination of strange emotions that churned his gut uncomfortably. 

Dream must have noticed George’s discomfort, because within seconds, he was pulling him onto his chest, swallowing him up with arms gripping tightly and doing a great job at grounding the brunet. George buried his face into Dream’s sweater and took in a deep breath. 

He smelled like warmth and pine deodorant and fabric softener and Dream. Suffocatingly so. The heat he emanated was enough to force George’s tunnel vision to fade into the familiar, groggy state of mind he was used to. 

George wasn’t sure how long they sat together like that. Time faded, and George drifted off a couple times, jolting awake as his body felt like it was in a free fall. 

Warmth.

George’s head lulled, eyelids becoming just slightly too heavy to hold open. 

Pine… no, cedar, maybe. 

Thoughts jumbled and faded and sunk deep into the still lake in the back of George’s mind.Sleep was encroaching fast, but George had no reason to resist. He let it wash over him in slow, lapping waves that mirrored Dream’s softly beating heart behind pillowy ribs. 

Dream. 

George woke with a splitting headache that only burned harsher as the bright, mid morning light spilled through half closed blinds. He could hear birds chirping through the glass, singing their songs of mid fall out in the cold wind. 

It would have been beautiful, if George wasn’t so fucking tired. 

His eyes screwed shut as he turned over, grasping for something… someone…

Dream. 

Fuck. He stayed the night, didn't he?

Unless, maybe the blond left after George finally fell fast asleep, sneaking out through the front and locking it behind him. 

A quick look around George’s room with blurry eyes proved him wrong. Shoes and a jacket laid sprawled across the floor, Dream’s familiar sweater from last night in George’s laundry pile along with his jeans. 

Fuck.

George sat upright finally, groaning. He was greeted by the little pumpkin kitten by the edge of the bed, abandoned where he had unknowingly left it the night before. He quickly retrieved the plush, fluffing up it’s stuffing before holding onto it for a moment close to his chest. 

He could hear Dream in the kitchen. 

With a small kiss, George placed the kitten next to his pillow, sliding out from under the covers to examine his own self. 

Sticky, gross feeling clothes remained stuck against his body, and George immediately began to strip.

Disgusting, sweaty shirt. 

New pajama-like clothes were dug from the nearest drawer, wrinkled tee and joggers were enough. It’s not like he had anyone to impress today. Clothes were slid on with ease before George finally made his way out of the bedroom. 

“You’re up?” Dream called out as a floorboard creaked. 

George winced. The final shred of hope that the blond had left was gone. 

“I’m up.” George answered, sleep still prominent in his voice. 

“Good!” Dream said, way too excited for a weekday morning, “I was gonna make breakfast, but you don’t have any flour.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, I just haven’t been able to get to the—“

“Or milk.” Dream cut him off, “Or bacon, or eggs, or anything, really. What the hell do you eat?”

George felt a hint of embarrassment prick the back of his neck, “A lot of takeout.”

Dream gave a disappointed look from the small dining table, setting his phone down as George finally entered the room. 

“I don’t know why you care.” George muttered defensively, “We’re not dating. You don’t have to fix my eating habits. Or cook me breakfast. Or…” George hesitated, “Or stay with me all night.”

“If I recall correctly,” Dream stated, matter of factly with a snarky smile curling on his lip, “You were the one who asked me to lie with you.”

George wanted to say something back, but he settled for a defeated groan as he took his seat in front of Dream at the table. A couple awkward glances were exchanged between the pair, but Dream soon broke the deafening silence. 

“I took one of my shirts from your closet. And my boxers.” Dream commented, “I know you still have half of my shit, so I just took it.”

“Right.” George’s cheeks reddened, “You can… take it back if you want. Your clothes and stuff.”

“It’s fine.” 

George sighed to himself. His face found its way into his hands, rubbing the sleepiness from it as best he could. 

Thoughts ran rampant of the entire day prior. Soft looks and shared cotton candy, cat plushies and creepy haunted houses. The ferris wheel. 

The kiss. 

George felt his own gut eating him alive. 

“How do you feel today?” Dream asked softly. 

“Fine.” George deadpanned. 

“Good.” Dream smiled, “I’m glad.”

Something about Dream caring so much made George pissed to no end. Who the hell gives two shits anymore about anyone but themselves? 

“Fuck you.” George spat. 

“You wish.” Dream snorted, “Maybe I can fuck that attitude of yours away.”

George would never admit it, but the thought made his dick twitch. 

“Are we really gonna do this right now?” George scoffed, rolling his eyes, “This whole… sexual fighting and taunting?”

“Oh, you want to cut right to the chase, huh, Georgie?” Dream chuckled and leaned halfway across the table to invade George’s personal space. 

This couldn’t be healthy. 

George… had feelings. Weird feelings that made him want to hold Dream forever and never let go, and yet at the same time he wanted to hit him as hard as he could. 

He fucking hated Dream. But at the same time, he couldn’t imagine a life without him. 

Maybe it would be good to cut to the chase. It’d help him get his mind off everything. 

“Yeah, I do.” George cocked a brow, teasing, “You gonna jump across this table to come get me, or should I go over there?”

“Come over here, sweetheart.” Dream’s voice was silky smooth, washing over George’s body and covering up any other thoughts with satin sheets. 

George stood and made his way to Dream, who slid his chair out just enough for the brunet to take a seat on his thighs. George let out a sigh that mingled with Dream’s own soft yet heavy breath. Foreheads were pressed together warmly, and Dream’s hands rested comfortably onto George’s sides. 

Familiarity rested in the tiny space between the two, and George couldn’t stand it. 

Hesitantly, George leaned in for a kiss. It was soft and sweet and so similar to the one Dream had given him the other day. A second was pressed, then a third. Dream’s thumb caressed circles into George’s cheek, daring George to remain against his lips longer. 

Another kiss with delay. George’s parted lips silently paused right as they met Dream’s, waiting for just a moment before he felt the tip of the blond’s slick tongue slowly meet his own, dragging along both of their lips to deepen the kiss. With their tongues finally meeting, George sighed against Dream’s honey skin as he pressed against his lips tighter. 

Tongues slid past each other, sweet traces of Dream lingered in George’s mouth against his teeth and cheeks and gums. The desperation in Dream’s kisses became evident quickly as small, slutty noises escaped and disappeared into George’s mouth, dying in his throat. Just the sounds Dream made were enough to get George’s cock to twitch to life, pressing right up against Dream’s already hard dick. 

With heavy breaths, Dream parted from the kiss. 

“George,” Dream whispered the name against George’s wet lips. 

George answered with another kiss. A palm absentmindedly worked against his crotch while hips jutted against Dream’s just enough to get a little more friction. 

“George.” Dream said a bit more firmly, holding George by his face as he pulled him off. 

“What?” George whined. 

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Dream mumbled, eyes darting around and scanning George’s features as they changed, “You were just upset before and I feel like… Like I’m pushing this—“

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t.” George sighed softly, “I promise.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” George groaned, “Please touch me.”

Dream let out a soft breath as he let George go, face buried in George’s neck as he licked a hot, thick, stripe up the porcelain skin. George sighed shakily and gripped onto Dream’s shoulders. 

A light red mark was bit into George’s neck, leaving quite the contrast to the pale canvas around it. Dream dove in for more, but George was ahead of him. With little effort, George pulled the front of Dream’s boxers down to reveal his already leaking dick. 

In less than a second, Dream’s hands worked the same way, pulling George’s cock out to begin stroking his length. Waves of pleasure hit George and made him struggle to keep quiet, little noises passing his lips from Dream’s hands and lips all over him. 

George’s head was spinning. His hand on Dream’s cock was slow, even though Dream’s on his was fast. Heat pooled deep in his stomach and he found himself desperately rutting into Dream’s fist. 

“D-Dream, ah—“ George started to come to his senses more, holding back his pleasure as much as possible as he squirmed in the taller’s lap.

“Come on, baby,” Dream teased, warm lips against George’s skin, “Use your words.”

“Fuck.” George whined, “P-please… I’m so close…”

“Want me to stop?” Dream mused. 

“No!” 

A chuckle, dark and cocky, “Hm, then… What does my good little boy want?”

“Keep going…” George said weakly, “Fuck , keep going please.”

Dream did just that. He picked up speed, softly shoving George’s hand off of his own dick to replace it with his tight grip. Dream matched their speeds, stroking them both like their lives depended on it. 

It didn’t take long for George to reach his climax, unable to warn the blond before spilling and leaking his hot, white cum across the other’s hand as well as his clothes. He saw stars— swirling and turning his brain to mush while he recovered from the high with his twitching dick in Dream’s grasp still. 

Dream soon finished, too, streaks of white painting George’s lap and mixing with his fluids from his own orgasm. A sweet, sickening silence filled the air once again, and George’s mind was left with it’s previous thoughts surfacing once again. 

Guess the sex wasn’t enough to distract George from the fact that he was utterly in love with Dream. 

“I-I think…” George started, voice shaking, “I think we should stop this.”

Dream gave a questioning look to the brunet. He could feel his heartbeat through his ribs. 

“The sex thing.” George sighed. 

It hurt him to admit, but he was sure he wouldn’t ever get over Dream if they kept sleeping with each other. Literally and metaphorically. 

“Oh.” Dream simply said, “Oh. Right. Are you sure?”

George hesitated. He was absolutely not sure. Maybe this would fuck everything over even worse. Maybe it would make everything right again. But George wouldn’t know unless he tried. 

“I’m sure.” George gave a sad, soft smile, “I like having sex with you but… It feels like we’re just… In a relationship without the label.”

“I get you.” 

“And I want to be your friend, I really do.” George explained, avoiding Dream’s eye contact, “But I don’t think we can keep friendship and sex. It feels… wrong.”

“Okay.” 

“Okay? We’re… Okay?” 

Dream sighed a bit, “Of course we’re okay.” 

“Good.”

“So… Do you want me to…” Dream trailed off, motioning his thumb to the door. 

“Right, yes.” George scurried to stand up, sliding his dick back into his pants uncomfortably. 

“Okay.”

Awkward tension was like electricity in the air, setting off sparks as George turned away from Dream, letting him fix himself up. 

The blond disappeared into George’s bedroom, returning with his clothes from the previous day in tow, then he left. Dream left with a simple little goodbye wave and a sad smile that broke George’s heart more than he could ever begin to describe. 

Well, at least that was over with, right?

Chapter Text

Dream : I got a nice bottle of wine for us :D

George : your idea of a nice wine is the shitty pink moscato from a cardboard box

Dream : You’re literally so mean.

Dream : It's an actual bottle. And it cost, like, $25.

George : ooh, fancy

George : i’m flattered

Dream : Ha Ha.

Dream : I’ll be there in ten?

George : i’ll be waiting :)

This would be good for them. 

After the tension of their last day together, George offered a simple dinner. Just a day where they can sit in the dining room and chat over some cheap wine and shitty takeout with no strings attached. They needed this. 

Especially because George missed him. 

He missed Dream with every fiber of his being— it was driving him absolutely insane. He craved the scent of his skin and the way his eyes gleamed when he laughed. He was perfect and beautiful and amazing, whether or not he was dating George. Or fucking him. And George missed that so, so much. 

This wasn’t a date, though. They made that very clear. It was just… A little dinner. 

And absolutely no entering the bedroom. 

George tapped away at his phone, checking the status of the order that seemed to be nearly at his door. There was a soft knock on the door, and George shot up, stomach growling at the thought of hot steamed dumplings…

His thoughts were stopped as soon as the door opened. Behind it stood Dream, holding the dark bottle of wine by its neck. His hair was swooped back a bit, and he wore a cute knitted sweater with blue and grey accents. George couldn’t hold back the smile that rose on his lips seeing the blond. 

“Told you it was a bottle.” Dream cradled the wine, cocking an eyebrow. 

“You’re an idiot.”

A cute idiot. 

George stepped aside and let the taller in, his shoes discarded by the door next to George’s own couple pairs of shoes. His socks padded across the wooden floor towards the dining room, placing the wine down on the table before turning back to the brunet. 

“When’s the food getting here?” Dream asked, already rummaging through the junk drawer for the bottle opener. 

“Soon, hopefully.” George chuckled. 

Dream returned quickly, stabbing the cork and twisting the little metal drill into it. It came off easily with a little pop, and George celebrated with a couple of sarcastic claps. 

There was a comfortable silence that found its way into the air between them. Soft breaths and sips, glasses clinking against the table with every gulp of the cheap, bitter wine. 

Even during their meal it was relatively quiet. The steam rising off the soup bowls between them was suffocating in the best possible way, disappearing as they brought their spoons up to their lips to take it all in.

George lost count of how many glasses he had, but when he broke out one of his own bottles, he knew it was probably one too many. 

With a stomach full of warm food and his head spinning just enough to teeter on the brink of drunk, George stood up from the silent table. He swayed a little, gripping onto his chair to steady himself with a chuckle. 

“You okay there?” Dream asked, standing slowly with outstretched arms. 

“‘M all good.” George laughed, “Sorry.”

“What? Don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for.” Dream furrowed his brow. 

He made his way over to George, grabbing onto his shoulder to help hold him up. George felt like he was about ready to pass out, and Dream’s concerned face made George laugh at how much he cared. 

“I wanted to hang out.” George pouted, pressing himself against Dream’s chest, “But I… feel fuzzy.”

Dream laughed this time. “Fuzzy?” He asked, holding onto George as the smaller moved his grip from the chair to his midsection. 

George gave a soft nod. His fists grabbed at Dream’s soft sweater as he groaned into his neck. With a deep breath, he was able to pick up hints of George’s favorite cologne.

The kind he’d put on to go on dates. 

Fuck, this wine was getting to him. 

“I wanna lay down.” George mumbled, prying himself away from Dream. 

“Of course, sweetheart.”

George tensed up. 

Sweetheart. 

Of all the times Dream could have slipped up, why did it have to be right now? George felt his chest tighten and his eyes flick across Dream’s face to find the same terrified expression he was sure he was showing himself. 

George remembered late nights coming home from bars with Dream and the way he held his hands as he toppled through the doorway. He remembered when Dream would practically carry the brunet to bed, laying him down with plenty of pillows under his head to ease the nagging sway of the world underneath spinning way too fast. 

“Don’t feel good…” George whined, gripping for dear life onto Dream’s tee and stretching it out at the seams. 

Dream didn’t seem to mind. His hands tightened against George’s ribs to pull him up onto the mattress. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Dream mused. 

Dream was different. He never chastised George for drinking too much, nor did he neglect him just because he was needy and overwhelmed. George always felt safe around his lover, because he knew he wouldn’t ever be judged by him. 

He pushed George’s hair out of the way of his forehead before placing a soft kiss to the clammy skin. George pulled away from the gesture with a groan— it was so cheesy. 

Too lovey-dovey for George to properly reciprocate while his stomach churned like this. 

“I’ll get you some water, love. Just wait right here.”

George’s heart skipped a beat, inching its way up into his throat. 

“Okay…”

And George waited. He always waited, terrified Dream would have finally had enough. Terrified that at some point, Dream would dump him at home and leave and never come back. 

But Dream came back. He always did, whether he had water and antacids for George’s stomach, or a wet washcloth to clean him up, or even just a fresh change of clothes from the dryer. 

He always came back. 

“I-I’m sorry—“ Dream rushed to apologize, but George cut him off with a stern hand to his chest. 

“I am going to lie down.” George repeated, sighing softly through sinuses that threatened to fill up with tears. 

With wobbly legs connecting awkwardly to the hardwood floor, George stormed off to the best of his ability. The living room was his original destination, but it was too close. Too close to Dream and his endearing words of affection. 

So he opted for the bedroom. 

George reached the edge of his bed and flopped down onto it, face colliding with the bunched up comforter. He never bothered to tidy it up anymore, to tuck it in behind the wall and prop up the pillows all cute. There was no reason to anymore. 

A little groan was let out that got muffled in the sheets and George found himself racking his brain. 

Why was that little slip up so upsetting?

Maybe it was because he still had feelings for the blond. Maybe it was because things didn’t feel right without Dream. Maybe it was just the alcohol rushing to his head all too quickly for comfort. 

The door was left only slightly ajar behind him, though it wasn’t long before it swung open fully. He turned to his back, propping himself up onto his elbows to stare. 

Dream’s silhouette stood by the door, his hands up close to his torso as he picked nervously at his fingers. He looked like he wanted to speak, like he wanted to spit something out. His mouth twitched and curled, and George wondered if after a glass and a half of cabernet, the blond could possibly be as tipsy as he was. 

Dream had never been one to drink much. A glass of wine, a beer or two, maybe a cocktail if he was feeling fancy. Never much more, though. He was always the one sober after a couple hours and a couple slices of pizza. 

Until one night, that was. George remembered it so easily, as if it was just yesterday. 

The blond went out with a couple of his friends to watch some stupid football game— it was the first and last time George had heard Dream say he was hanging out at a bar with his friends. He was so excited, but it must have died down soon, because only an hour into the game, George was parked in front of the bar, running in to find his lover sitting on the floor of a locked bathroom stall. 

“Baby?” George called out, “Dream, please let me in, love.”

Dream made a noise half between a groan and a whine. His extended legs were pulled up against his chest, slowly scraping against the tile. 

“Dream.” George sighed, dropping to his knees to reach a hand under the stall, “Please?”

“Can’t stand.” Dream mumbled, voice trembling and lost in his throat. 

George sighed again, mustering up the courage to lay down flat on the probably filthy bathroom floor. He eyed Dream from under the stall, awkwardly shimmying himself into Dream’s small prison of his own making. 

Dream sat curled up and shaking, a violent tremor George knew all too well wracking his body and making even his teeth chatter. His eyes were screwed shut and his skin was pale, save for the redness in the apples of his cheeks. 

“Dream, what’s wrong, sweetheart?” George’s heart broke. 

“Feels bad,” Dream’s words were choppy, like he was afraid to open his mouth too much, “Don’t like it.”

“What feels bad?”

“Drinking. Drunk.” His voice cracked, “Too much, I-I can’t— I can’t… It’s too much…”

George’s heart stopped as Dream’s breath quickened, his shaking fingers tightening around his arms. He pulled Dream’s hands from grasping himself to hold them softly, cradling his rough, trembling palms in his own. 

He made a mental note to not let Dream get drunk again. 

“You okay?” George prodded, shaking the memories away. 

Maybe he wasn’t. Though, George didn’t know what could make him anxious enough to warrant the nervousness in Dream’s shaky voice. 

“Can I join you?”

George was frozen. Against his better judgement, he said yes. 

He watched slowly as the blond strode over to sit on the edge of George’s mattress, dragging his legs up to lay down with bent knees. His arms stretched to cradle his head from behind, the hem of his sweater lifting just the slightest bit to reveal a sliver of his soft, sunkissed skin underneath. 

At first, George thought this Dream was a different person from the one he dated, but really? He was the same. 

This Dream always came back. 

And he was still beautiful. His hair fell perfectly even though he laid on it awkwardly. His eyes pierced him with the most beautiful evergreen he had ever seen— so wide and hopeful they could hold all the stars in the sky. 

The warmth they radiated when he turned to stare George in the eye made him melt. 

George felt his words thick, stuck in the back of his throat like a half swallowed pill he couldn’t spit out. Dream’s name lingered just below the surface, trying to break out. He wanted to scream it from the rooftops, to scream to everyone until his lungs gave out that he was so incredibly infatuated with this man. 

This one, off limits man. 

“George?” 

George shivered. His body was way too tingly for Dream to be whispering his name like that. 

“Yes?” 

“Are you okay?”

He didn’t know what to say. He took a breath.

“I think so.”

“What’s on your mind?”

Too much. Way too much. 

“I dunno.” George turned, lying on his side, “Just…”

Dream cocked a brow, “‘Just?’ Just what?”

Fuck. 

“Just thinking about… you.” The words poured from his mouth before he could stop them. 

Dream chuckled, smiling as he let his gaze fall back to the ceiling. 

George tensed up, “What about you..? What are you thinkin’ about?”

“About you.” 

Giddiness rose in George’s chest, and he hoped the redness of his cheeks wasn’t telling. 

With an awkward and clumsy series of movements, George shimmied closer to Dream, placing his leg on top of his carefully to cuddle in closer. Dream tensed up a bit, and George stopped his movements. 

Before George was able to get fully comfortable, Dream sat up fully. He let out a nervous chuckle, placing a hand on George’s arm to soothe him after his abruptness. 

“I think…” Dream laughed, “I think I need to go.”

“Are you sure?” George sat up as well, nearly falling back down with the way the world spun behind his eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Dream stood. 

“Goodbye, then.” George said, waving. 

His wave never reached Dream’s eyes, the blond facing away from George, who was sprawled out on the bed. 

“Bye, George,” Dream sounded soft— vulnerable, almost, “See you soon?”

“See you.” George watched him turn, “Thank you for the wine.”

“It’s no biggie.” Dream waved his hand dismissively, “Don’t forget to get an antacid for the morning. I know how upset your stomach gets.”

“Thank you.”

Dream gave a sigh and a smile, hand on the doorknob. George’s heart raced— he didn’t want him to leave. He thought quickly about what he could do to make the blond stay, even for just a minute more. 

He couldn’t bear the thought of sitting drunk in an empty house. 

“Oh!” George sat up straighter, catching Dream’s attention, “Are you going to Karl’s halloween party this weekend?”

“Right.” Dream nodded slowly as if he was only just remembering, “I’ll be there, for sure.”

His hand pulled the door wider.

Stay.

“So… Do you still need help with your costume?” 

Please stay. 

“Oh, no, it’s okay. I’ll figure something out last minute.” Dream chuckled, “Don’t worry.”

Please. 

“I better get going.” Dream said softly. 

“Right.” George kicked himself mentally. 

Make him stay. 

But George couldn’t. He didn’t know how else. 

George watched the blond shake his hair into place, face framed in golden locks and red cheeks before disappearing out of the room. He flopped back down onto his back, listening as Dream cracked the front door open and shut it behind him. 

And in the silence that followed, George found himself tearing up. 

Why the fuck is this so hard to handle?

Chapter Text

Please stay. 

It was pathetic. 

George mulled it over for days— his mind screaming to make Dream stay with him, sit with him, lay with him and just be in his company. 

Make him stay. 

God, what had gotten him so down bad? 

What seemed like days ago, George wanted nothing but the blond’s dick. He wanted a quick fuck, no strings attached. The feelings that fizzled out were supposed to be gone, but there was a second wind somehow, and it was strong. It threatened to blow George over with its hurricane of emotion. 

Dream was unscathed by these winds, the pressure of the stinging rain seemed to roll off his body with no problem. George envied him. 

If he could be more like Dream, he thought, maybe it’d be easier. Maybe they could keep up with this whole “benefits” thing without it getting uncomfortable. 

Maybe they’d still be together. 

Fuck. 

George tried not to think about them together. Their relationship was bland at best, and even the sex got boring after a while, but man, George would get on his knees and beg any god that would listen to have it back.

Falling face first into his pillow, George groaned into the fabric. It muffled his sounds of despair, though it wouldn’t matter if anyone ended up hearing anyway. He couldn’t possibly have gotten any more frustrated than he already was. 

Well, that’s what he thought, at least. 

A soft buzz caught George’s attention from beside him, lighting up the dim room with blue light. His phone buzzed twice, the familiar heartbeat pattern of his text tone cutting his pity party short. 

It was… Dream. 

The message hitched George’s breath, his arms pricking with goosebumps. 

Dream: I miss you. 

He read it once, then again, then a third time— maybe even more, George lost track. Each time it left his mind blank. 

I miss you. 

Was he being serious?

George decided not to answer. He was the one who cut off their sex-thing, and he was sure that Dream was texting him just for that— a bit of easy pleasure. 

If only his mind worked faster than his fingers. 

i miss you too. 

Dream’s response was almost instant. 

Dream: Then come to me. 

Dream: Please come to me one more night.

George’s chest tightened as the messages kept pouring in one after another. 

Dream: I want you next to me. 

Dream: I want to feel your heartbeat. 

Dream: I want to feel your skin all over. 

Dream: Please, George. 

i’ll be there. 

If this was some sick joke, George was going to kill him. 

The driveway was dark and cold as George scurried outside. It was what, midnight? George made a mental note to beat Dream’s ass for sending him out in the middle of the night for a dumb booty call. 

Driving was fast and relatively warm, but George wished he had put on more than boxers and a tee when he finally arrived. 

As soon as George stepped foot in the door, Dream greeted him with a tug of the collar, nearly dragging him into the dark house. Geirge whimpered at the touch— he knew what was coming when he answered that text, but he didn’t expect to be taken right at the door. 

Dream pressed his lips to George’s roughly, locking George into the kiss with a whine. George kissed back, letting Dream’s hands explore down his sides and back and grope at his ass. Quick, rough touches escalated until George’s hitched breath turned into needy moans as he desperately rolled his hips against Dream’s for friction. 

Heat pooled between their hips, and before George knew it, Dream had his hands between George’s thighs, lifting the brunet up. George wrapped himself around the blond tightly, neck tilted to let him press kisses to his soft skin.

Dream layed George down onto the mattress— when had he gotten there? that was fast…— and began to press wet kisses against his neck. George’s shirt was pulled off fast, followed by his boxers. His mind was foggy and overrun by the electrifying touches he was getting from Dream. 

The blond shed his clothing too, climbing into bed with George and pulling him onto his lap. George leaned down to kiss Dream hungrily. 

Dream’s fingers wrapped around both their dicks, pressing the hot skin together roughly with a couple strokes. George whined, resting his forehead in the crook of Dream’s neck. 

Too much, it’s too much. 

George was shaky as he sat upright, placing his hand on Dream’s wrist, stopping his movements. 

Dream glanced up, silently asking what was wrong. 

“S-sensitive.” George whispered, feeling his cock twitch against Dream’s. 

“Cute.” Dream chuckled, “Too fast? How needy are you?”

George let out a soft moan at the teasing. It had been a while since he did anything— he hadn’t even thought about touching himself since Dream left his house… 

Not the time. 

George ignored the static that grew at the base of his neck, opting to wiggle from Dream’s grip and shuffle downwards, coming face to face with the blond’s cock. 

He took the reddened shaft in his fist, glancing up Dream’s way. The blond let his hand card through George’s hair, resting on the back of his head. He knew all too well what was to come. 

“Go on, baby,” Dream cooed, “Take me like a good boy.” 

His tip pressed past George’s lips, and George let his jaw loosen to take Dream in. It was comforting— familiar. 

He’s using you.

George wasn’t sure how long he bobbed his head for, the only thing keeping him in the moment was the burn of his jaw and the soft sounds of Dream’s groans and praises. 

“Good boy.” He’d say, “Fuck, I’m close… your mouth feels so good, love.”

And then he came. 

George did his best to swallow it all, head so fuzzy with heat and nerves and fuck, he wished his dick would stop leaking onto the sheets below. 

Dream’s fingers slowly left George’s hair after pulling the brunet off his cock. His cheeks were red and eyes half lidded, meeting George’s with a soft chuckle. He pulled him upwards, giving him a soft kiss. 

He never cared if George still had cum on his lips. 

“Your turn, baby.” Dream whispered against his lips, “I wanna make you feel good too.” 

He’s using you. 

George answered with another kiss, hard and hungry and needy as Dream swapped their positions, letting George rest against the pillows. He pushed away the thoughts that tried to surface in his mind, letting himself get lost in the pleasure. 

All he felt was Dream— around him, in his mind, in his chest. He felt like Dream had made his home in his ribs and melted into him. 

George didn’t bother trying to control the slutty noises he was making, Dream’s lips wrapped around his cock was something he rarely experienced. It was overwhelming, but in a good way this time. It cleared his head from the thoughts that made him feel ill.

He was coming undone before he knew it, bucking his hips into Dream’s mouth desperately to chase his climax. 

Dream pulled off, swallowing the thick cum that remained in his mouth as he wiped his face clean. 

It was quiet. uncomfortably quiet. 

George was sure Dream had said something to him, but he couldn’t process it. In the comedown from the high of his orgasm came everything he tried to avoid. 

He’s using you. 

Basking in the afterglow of guilty silence, George covered himself up. Silky sheets made their way around his body, hiding his no longer erect dick, sore and reddened between bitten thighs. 

He had never covered himself before. There was never anything to cover until now. 

He felt… so empty. So small, so guilty, so… used. 

And he’s the one who let it happen. Dream sent the text, but George is the one who responded. He came over and let Dream ravish his body because he knew Dream liked it. Dream just… doesn’t like him. 

Hell, he wouldn’t even stay and comfort him when he was drunk anymore. 

It was a losing cause, loving Dream. 

And yet, when George stared at his back in the dim room, the hall light painting him shades of orange and golden yellow to accompany the blues and purples, George couldn’t bear it. He wanted one thing and one thing only— Dream. 

Even just watching him sit at the edge of the bed with the comforter draped around his waist made George hurt. All he wanted was to be the one. 

Dream consumed him. George wanted him to wrap his hands around his throat and make him disappear. Anything would be better than this… hopeless feeling that ate George from the inside out. 

The blond shifted, tugging the sheets with him. He stood slowly, not bothering to cover himself up to go to the bathroom. 

They didn’t share the same guilt. 

Dream flicked on the light, then the faucet, filling the air with tense white noise. Water flooded down the drain, splashing against skin and falling back into itself. He was throwing water on his face, George thought. 

Maybe the guilt was mutual. 

Or maybe he just couldn’t stand the taste of George on his lips anymore. 

“George?” Dream’s voice was soft and low, a whisper of what it normally was. 

He hadn’t noticed Dream standing in the illuminated door frame. His eyes fixated on that spot, blurry and unable to move. He didn’t want to stare but he couldn’t stop. 

Dream shifted to one foot, leaning his bare shoulder against the frame. 

George hummed in response. He couldn’t be bothered to make any more effort to speak. Everything he did felt cloudy and hazy. 

“Are you okay?” Dream asked, “Is everything… okay?”

There was concern in Dream’s voice, but George couldn’t focus on it. Dream’s figure burned it’s way into his mind. 

“You know… you can talk to me, right?” Dream pushed off the wall, taking a couple steps closer to the bed. 

George pulled the sheet up to his navel. 

“I know we aren’t… y’know…” His eyes averted their gaze, “But I’m still here.”

The blond took his seat at the edge of the bed again, this time facing George. Pale moonlight settled over his face and chest and hips and thighs, and George’s chest stirred. 

“No.” George said simply, weakly. 

“‘No’ what?” Dream asked.

“I’m not okay.” Pathetic. 

George felt absolutely pathetic. The words took their time coming out of his mouth, passing over his tongue and through his teeth just barely to reach Dream’s ears. 

“I’m sorry.” Dream cowered, hiding behind his own words, “I shouldn’t have… um, I shouldn’t have texted you. I… didn’t really give you a choice. I’m sorry.”

You did. 

George watched Dream carefully. The way the cool light shifted with each minute movement, the way his lashes stuck together with the dewyness of his face, how his thumb and forefinger picked at the cuticle of his left pinky. 

He took in all his details, biting back tears with his tongue pressed harshly against the roof of his mouth. 

I wanted to come. 

“I don’t think I can…” George had to stop himself. Heat welled in the back of his throat and turned his sentence wet, forcing his mouth shut. 

I wanted it too much, I fear. 

Dream waited for him to collect himself. He always did. 

“I don’t think I can keep doing this.” 

“I know.” Dream’s somber tone rang heavy in the room, “I’m sorry… I-I never wanted to make you uncomfortable.”

George scoffed through the burn in his throat, sitting up straight. The sheet bunched up between his thighs, pale skin dotted with freckles clenching to keep his modesty. 

“You never made me uncomfortable.” George said, exasperation fraying the edges of his words. 

“Oh.” Dream said softly. 

“You made me feel… so much more in this past— what, month?— than you ever did while we were dating.” George croaked out. 

Crying during this was embarrassing. He felt… well, pathetic. 

I really need to stop putting myself down. 

George chuckled, soft and sad and crackly in his throat before continuing, “I can’t keep doing this.”

Dream sighed, glancing away. 

“I know.” He repeated. 

With red cheeks, Dream tugged at the blanket to cover his own groin. 

Guilt? Shame?

George let out a shaky breath. His palms dug at his eyesockets, as if to push the hot, stinging tears back where they came from. Everything was way too warm, way too suffocating. 

He needed to get it off his chest. 

I’m still in love with you. 

“Dream…” George started, but hesitated. 

“Yes?” 

I’m still in love with you.

“I-I think, um…” 

Dream lifted his head up. His gaze fell hot on George’s face, and he felt like the weight of the world was on his chest, suffocating him to death. 

The blond waited. He always waited. He always fucking waited for George to sort his head out. 

I’m still in love with you. 

George’s heart beat heavily in his throat, blood rushing through his ears, deafening him. 

“I think… I-I think I’m still…” George stumbled over his tongue. He hated himself for it. “I still… have feelings for you.”

Dream was quiet. His soft breaths lifted his chest in the moonlight, face shrouded with dim light.

“I like you, Dream.” George repeated, gnawing at his lip. 

“Oh.”

Fuck. 

Silence was thick in the air, suffocating both of the boys as they sat in front of each other, unmoving for what seemed like an eternity. George hesitated for a long minute before trying to speak again, but Dream beat him to it. 

“George… I-I…”

For a second, just a single second, George got his hopes up. A light flickered in his eye and lightened his chest like helium, gaze meeting Dream’s for the first time in god knows how long. Those eyes were still a deep forest George kept getting lost in. 

“Yes?” George asked, voice stuck in his throat. 

“I think you should… go.” 

Like a twist of rotten silk, George’s chest caved. The hope he had drained through his body and out through the pads of his fingers and the soles of his feet, leaving him emptier than ever before. 

“Right.” George nodded once, head kept down as he glanced back up through wet lashes. 

Dream was looking away. Was he crying too?

“Sorry, George.” He said, and his voice cracked, “For making you come here in the middle of the night. I really am.”

“It’s no problem.” George’s watery words were shallow, accompanied by sniffles as he dragged himself off the bed, blankets falling to the mattress. 

Shame. 

Maybe it would have paid to keep his mouth shut. 

Chapter Text

“He told me he still had feelings for me.” 

Dream’s fingers fiddled with the rubber band in his hand, pulling it taut and flicking it back to its relaxed position with little twangs of off tune notes. He pulled it tight enough to turn his fingertips red. 

The tightness in his chest felt the same as he imagined the band to feel. Brought to its breaking point and slammed back to normal. 

“That’s… Good, right?” Sapnap’s voice was soft, comforting even with its questioning tone. 

Dream stopped. He let the little green rubber band fall onto his shirt and rest with the increasing speed of his heart thumping against his ribs. 

“I don’t know.”

Sapnap was quiet. Dream recognized it— the silence. He knew it all too well. 

The gears in his head were turning just as much as Dream’s were. Something this stupidly complex made it hard to come up with advice. Dream felt like no matter what Sapnap did, whatever he said, wouldn’t make him feel much better. 

“Do you still like him, too?”

It was Dream’s turn to go quiet.

“I don’t know.” Dream sighed exasperatedly. 

“Okay.”

This sucked. 

“Do you want to like him back?” Sapnap prodded. 

“I hate you.” 

Sapnap sat upright from where he laid on the mattress, Dream’s eyes following him as he stretched his arms over his head. His hair was a bit messed up when he turned to face Dream, but he didn’t seem to care. 

“Maybe… you should take some time.” Sapnap offered, “Spend some time away from him.”

Dream offered a hum in response. 

“Like… You’re both supposed to go to that party, right?”

“Right.”

“What if we skip it?” Sapnap shrugged, “You can stay at my place ‘n help pass out candy to a bunch of kids. What do you say?”

“Maybe you’re right.” Dream’s eyes fell back down, trailing across the crumpled comforter and towards Sapnap’s carpet. 

Sapnap chuckled, nudging Dream with his foot. 

“When am I wrong?”

Fluffy feathers danced across George’s bare shoulder blades, tickling him and sending goosebumps across his skin. Scratchy sparkly material dug into his sides and stomach from the bustier that didn't quite fit him right in the chest, even after being stuffed full of socks. It was uncomfortable. 

But he looked pretty, he thought. 

And tonight was supposed to be fun. 

George stood on Karl’s front step, listening to the music that seeped out from behind the old oak door. He was instructed to just go inside when he arrived, but it always struck him as strange to just let himself inside someone’s home. 

So, he waited. 

Half because he felt awkward, and half because he was hoping someone else would show up and accompany him inside. He hoped someone would come and take him by the arm and drag him into the clusterfuck of people he knew were inside. 

And somewhere deep inside, he hoped it would be Dream. 

Nobody came, though. No tall, blond, green eyed vampires or Squid Game soldiers to swoop him off his feet and hold him close. No Dream to keep his mind off the constant worries that were mulling in his mind over and over like a broken record skipping around and avoiding the best parts of the song like a cruel joke. 

Just go inside. 

George took a deep breath and let a shaky hand wrap around the cool door knob slowly, leaning his weight against the wood to push it open. Greeted by the thick smell of fog and pulsing music in the back of his ears, George stepped inside quickly. 

There weren’t quite as many people as Geore expected, but there was still a decent amount. People he didn’t recognize were dressed in face paint and bright costumes, creepy masks, long robes. His eyes scanned the crowd for familiarity, but he was met with nothing. 

He was lucky the wings he had attached to his body were small— he squeezed himself through people slowly, feeling his feathered skirt catch on other’s costumes. 

“George!” 

Karl’s familiar voice made George’s anxieties fade for just a moment as he headed in his direction. 

“I’m so glad you could make it!” Karl greeted him with a hug, the warmth of the brunet’s hands on his back making George relax. 

“I wouldn’t miss it.” George chuckled softly. 

Pulling away, George got a good look at Karl’s costume. He sported a long, checkered jacket type of thing with a sword on his hip. George had no idea who or what he was, but he definitely looked cool. 

“You look stressed,” Karl furrowed his brow, “You okay, George?”

George nodded instinctively, giving a little shrug, “You know how life is.”

Karl returned a sympathetic smile, warm eyes showing a genuine concern, “I know.”

Karl’s hand found George’s wrist and dragged the angel’s arm up, handing him a tall, pink can. 

“There’s more in the fridge, a bunch of other stuffs in the kitchen too.” Karl offered, “Try ‘n have some fun, okay?”

George nodded, his eyes glued on the condensation of the can dripping onto the floor below. As Karl drifted away, the can was cracked open and George let himself take a couple drinks. 

It was sweet and bubbly like lemonade, leaving a pleasant aftertaste on his tongue that lingered just long enough. 

Thankful for the drink in his hand, George pushed himself into a couple brief conversations with people he recognized, listening in on other’s whispers.

Despite the distractions, every time the front door opened, George found himself perking up, eyes following people as they walked in and out. He stared at the door until he caught a glimpse of someone’s pink hood and masked face…

The group he stood with was abandoned immediately. George let his feet guide him down through the living room towards the door to follow the pink soldier costume down to the dining room until he was tugging at the man’s sleeve. 

“Dream!” George shouted, maybe a little too loud as he pulled his arm, maybe a little too hard. 

The man turned to him, the familiar square shape on the mesh mask comforting. 

“I knew you’d show up.” George said with a soft sigh, “I wanted to talk to you.”

“Let go.” A gruff voice complained.

The arm was pulled away quickly, lifting the mask from his face to reveal…

Dark brown eyes instead of green. 

Black hair instead of blond. 

A softer, rounder cheekbone lined with dark freckles instead of light ones on the nose. 

It wasn’t Dream.

“I-I’m sorry…” George felt his heart in his throat again, blood rushing through his ears. 

“What’s your problem?” The man’s dark eyes were harsh. 

They bore holes through George’s face, and suddenly, the brunet felt very warm, and very exposed. 

“I thought you were…” George trailed off, “I didn’t… I’m sorry.” 

With the mask back over his unfamiliar face, the stranger stepped away and left George in the middle of the room. 

He said he’d be here. 

It felt like every eye was on him. Every laugh was about him. Every glance his way burned at his skin like fresh wounds, strangers digging their claws into his flesh. 

He needed out. He needed air. 

George stumbled his way back towards the front door, but before his shaking hand could reach the knob, it swung out and bumped into him roughly. A soft sound of panic leaving his voice as he backed up into someone’s side. 

“S-sorry—“

The stranger at the door let in a breeze that carried the thick scent of cigarette smoke that clung to his costume, offering an apology that George didn’t bother to hear before turning to run the other direction. 

It’s hot. 

George muttered his apologies quickly as he fumbled his way into the kitchen, taking a heavy breath in the new open space. 

His ears rushed with blood, his chest was tight and his ribs were too thick to let his heart beat, to let his lungs expand. 

I can’t breathe. 

“George?” 

Karl’s voice was far away. George couldn’t feel his face, his hands. 

“Is Dream here?” George found himself asking, though he wasn’t sure how. He felt like he could barely catch his breath, but he spoke completely fine, albeit a little shaky. 

“Dream?” Karl tilted his head, “No. Him and Sap texted last minute and bailed. Why?”

Was it my fault?

Did I make him uncomfortable?

George hummed. His teeth were too tightly clenched to open his mouth and respond. 

He’s supposed to be here.

Without another word, George took his leave out the door into the back yard from the kitchen. Karl may have followed after briefly, but George didn’t pay him any mind. 

He fished his phone from his pocket, numb fingers pressing absently at numbers until he heard the soft ring from the speaker. He held it up to his ear, listening intently. 

Ring…

Ring…

He said he would be here. 

George took a look up at the dark sky looking overhead, the empty, starless void peering back at him. 

Ring…

Why wouldn’t he come?

Ring…

“Because of me.” George answered himself out loud. 

You have reached the voicemail box…

The robotic voice in his ear made his heart nearly stop. 

It was like a kick in the gut.

Because of me. 

Chapter Text

Soft, pale yet sun kissed skin fit with a spattering of freckles. Dream glowed in the sunlight that peeked through the bright leaves that swayed in the wind around the pair, filling the silences with just enough white noise to accompany the birdsong. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever let anyone up here with me before.” Dream sighed softly. 

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Dream glanced at the brunet, “It’s really just my quiet place for when shit gets too hard to deal with.” 

George nodded along.

“Consider yourself special.” 

He did. 

Quiet welcomed its way between the two. Though they started off on their phones, scrolling through instagram videos, those were shut off soon after. Nothing filled silences like their short conversations. 

“I…” George started, but soon his tongue felt dry in his mouth. 

Dream turned his attention to the man, and George nearly cowered back. He was so… pretty. 

“I’m sorry. I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous, George.” Dream said softly, in a voice only George was allowed to hear. 

“I want to kiss you.” George muttered, feeling the butterflies creep up his throat. 

“Then do it.” Dream chuckled. 

“I feel like… I need to ask first.”

“You don’t have to.”

A moment passed. George’s eyes flicked down to Dream’s lips, perfect and pink and smiling at him with the whites of his teeth peeking out from behind. George felt himself instinctively sit up a bit, but the hammock shifted under him, swaying from the trees and leaving George’s nerves firing on all ends. 

The nylon of the hammock underneath the pair rustled as George shifted his weight, legs shaky as he felt himself lose balance more and more. 

“You’re not going to fall.” Dream laughed at him from his spot on the right side of the hammock, “It's sturdy.”

“Don’t laugh at me.” George nearly whined, nervous hands pulling on the taut fabric as he shakily moved his legs around. 

“Get comfortable,” Dream’s words were laced with amusement, his smile creasing his eyes, “Just pull your legs up.”

“I-I’m trying!” George said exasperatedly, “I’m— It’s going to fall, Dream—“

“It’s not going to fall!” Dream laughed even louder. 

“It is! I-I can’t balance, I’m gonna flip us over!” 

“George. Relax.” Dream reassured, “Just take my hand. I’ll pull you up.”

“No.” George said firmly, though he was starting to laugh as well, “We’re both gonna fall—“

Before the brunet could finish his sentence, his elbow found its way to his face as he sneezed hard and loud into his arm. And again. And again. He groaned as Dream muttered a ‘bless you’, the soft freckled hand still outstretched for him finally dropping. 

“Allergies?” Dream asked softly.

George nodded. 

“We can go inside for a while.”

He shook his head. “I like it out here though.”

“But it’s just gonna get worse, baby.” Dream chuckled sympathetically. 

George pretended the pet name didn’t give him butterflies. The sudden surge of nerves in his body made him overly aware of the way the pair’s thighs touched, the way his hand rested against Dream’s body at all times. Piercing green eyes found him and he quickly looked away. 

Another sneeze. 

“Okay.” George sighed, voice revealing the congestion that was building up, “We can go inside.” 

“Good choice.” Dream teased, his fingers finding George’s briefly, “Watch out getting up, the hammock will probably scrape your thighs.”

George rolled his eyes but quickly understood exactly what Dream meant as the tightly stretched cloth dragged against him like stone, hurting him through his sweats. Once his feet were on solid ground, and Dream’s followed shortly after, George turned to him. 

Fingers interlaced, and Dream’s attention was all on him. 

“Can… Can I kiss you?” George said in barely a whisper. 

Dream’s grin split his face as he nodded. The apples of his cheeks turned pink and his eyes found their way down to watch George as the brunet turned fully. 

George rested a hand on Dream’s cheek, fingers tangling in the blond locks that framed his face. He was warm. So, so warm. George didn’t have time to scan his face more before Dream’s eyes fluttered shut. Dream’s own hands found their way to George’s face, pulling the brunet in slowly. 

He felt himself panic, the butterflies in his stomach migrating to his lungs and making him hold his breath tightly in his ribs. The cruel bugs tensed his body, forcing Dream to close the distance himself. 

Dream’s lips were cool and soft, and just so perfect. A kiss so gentle it was over as soon as it started. 

“You’re shaking.” Dream commented against his lips.

George snapped back to reality, dragging Dream back in for a second one that lasted but a moment longer. The smile he felt in Dream’s kiss was enough to make the brunet’s worries melt away. 

They kissed. 

They kissed and Dream smelled like warm sun and fresh laundry. He smelled like the sweetness of his cologne mixed with a twinge of the earth that rose up from the world around them. He was perfect. 

At that moment there was nobody in the universe but the two of them. 

And as the moment faded, and the world around them faded back into the picture, George still couldn’t seem to shake the butterflies.

“C’mon, let’s go inside.” Dream said with a chuckle, “Your eyes are puffy.”

“Shut up.” George scoffed with his own laugh. 

“Plus, I wanna show you the couches— they are the most comfortable things in the fucking world, trust me. You'll see.” 

George smiled at his enthusiasm. Fingers laced together again, and George was accompanied down the hill and up towards the house in the distance. 

There was no denying how head over heels this man made him. 

Even a week after the party, George’s only thoughts were on Dream. His mind was flooded every second with memories from a happier time. 

The memories of the early days were faded, tattered like old photographs in George’s mind, but they still held every piece of emotion. Though his mind may forget fine details, his heart never did. 

And really, it was his heart that made the decision to scroll and find Dream’s contact. It was his heart that brought him to click on the photo, and it was his heart that pressed the call button. 

“George…?” The voice on the end of the line was a little hoarse, like he had just woken up. 

It was his heart that made him freeze up too. 

“Hello? George?” Dream repeated.

But it was also his heart that filled with heat that made him snap back an answer quickly. 

“Now you wanna answer?” George scoffed. 

He hated how his anger came bubbling to the surface. He hated that he was just reminiscing on the good days, falling in love with Dream over and over again in his mind, and now he felt nothing but seething hatred. 

The line was silent. For a second, George thought he had hung up. 

“What’s up?” Dream asked nonchalantly, as if George’s emotions weren’t quite getting through. 

“Why didn’t you come to the party last week?” George cut to the chase. 

“I didn’t want to.” Dream answered, just as simply, “Why does it matter?”

George’s tongue pressed along his teeth as he held himself back, a long sigh escaping his nose.

“I needed you.” George said gently, “I needed you and you weren’t there.”

“Sorry.” Dream replied hesitantly.

“That’s it?” George caught himself chuckling, “You promised me you’d be there if I needed you. And you weren’t.”

“We aren’t… together, George. I don’t have to be your keeper.” Dream snapped back, and George swore his vision flashed red.

“You promised me as a friend.” George spat. 

“I’m sorry.” Dream backtracked, “I… missed your call.”

“Bullshit.” George raised his voice just a bit, “There's no way. Why didn’t you think to call back? Or text? Follow up with me?”

“Well… You’re okay, right?” Dream asked, and he started to say something else, but George cut him off. 

“It’s a little too late for that question, genius.” 

“Sorry.”

“Where were you?” George asked, “On that night.”

“I was at Sap’s. We were giving out candy to kids.” 

“Why didn’t you answer, then? Was it that important that the kids needed your stupid kitkats and gummy worms? You couldn’t step aside for one minute to speak to me?”

Dream let out a sigh, long and exasperated. “I needed space.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me? You just ghosted me this whole time? What part of you think that’s okay?” 

“Sorry.”

“Stop fucking saying that.” George sighed, rubbing his temples to calm down. 

As much as he was mad, he didn’t want to lash out. 

“Why do you need space?” George asked softer. 

Dream was silent for a long moment. George held his breath, hoping and praying to whatever god would listen that it wasn’t because of him. 

“Because you still like me.”

There it was. 

“Right.” George sighed, feeling his chest cave into itself, “And that makes you uncomfortable?”

“Yes.” Dream said softly, but quickly contradicted himself, “I-I mean, no. But… Also yes…?”

“You are so fucking confusing.” George groaned.

Dream was quiet. 

“Why yes and no?” George said, barely audible.

“It’s no because I like you too.” Dream started.

George’s heart beat up into his neck. It was the first sign he was alive since the conversation started with Dream, and he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad one. 

“But it’s also yes, because…” Dream sighed, “I don’t know if I want to.”

“How can you not know if you want to like someone back ?” George asked rhetorically, “It’s yes or it’s no.”

“It’s… It’s a maybe.” Dream tried to defend himself. 

“A maybe is a no.” George said simply. “If you have to convince yourself to like someone back, it’s a no.”

The sinking returned to cave in his ribs, and George sighed. 

“George, I—“

The brunet didn’t let him start.

“I can’t talk to you right now.” George held his tongue, “I just can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you don’t care as much about me as I do about you. Did you ever really care? About my feelings?”

“Of course I did. I do.”

“Obviously not. Not if you have to think about if you like me. Not if you have to take space and think ‘hm… do I like George? Maybe! Who knows. Maybe Sapnap knows!’”

“L-listen, we can talk, I’m willing to try—“

“And where was this energy when I needed you that night? You promised—“ George stopped himself before he could run back in circles, “I can’t talk to you right now. Call me when you figure your shit out.”

“I—“

George ended the call on Dream. The call screen faded into the contact page once again, and once again, George found his heart stuck in a sinkhole behind his bones. 

He didn’t realize how tightly he was gripping his phone until it dropped from his ear into his lap, his fingers still wound tightly around his thin black case. If he was any angrier, he may have thrown it across the room.

I ruin everything I touch. 

The worst part, he thought, was he knew Dream was going to say he would try for him. But not just that.

The real worst part was that George didn’t give him the chance. 

Chapter Text

Cool air nipped at Dream’s neck, threatening to drip down his spine like ice. 

“Hi, sweetheart!” The blond woman at the doorstep greeted Dream with a smile that creased deep lines in her eyes. “I’m so glad you could come by for dinner, Dream.”

Dream gave his best smile back, feeling the hair on the back of his neck raise. 

This was his mother. If he had to lie about his feelings any time, this would be the time to do it perfectly. 

“Of course!” Dream sold with a chuckle, “I know we’ve been kind of… distant.”

“Oh, nonsense,” His mother shushed him with a wave of her hand flashing her nails that looked freshly manicured with a pretty shade of pink. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters, honey.”

Dream nodded apologetically before she stepped aside to let the blond in. 

His light jacket discarded at the door, the rustling fabric hung up on an overcrowded hook on the wall. Before Dream could even really get himself situated, he was hit with a wave of nostalgia. 

Nothing had quite changed since he left, huh?

The house still smelled the same as he remembered growing up, freshly washed linen and lavender hung in the air along with the faint hint of cigarette smoke. The tablecloth, the plates set out, even the silverware was all the same. 

The walls hadn’t seemed to have been repainted, either. Little remnants of harshly rubbed bright crayon remained at knee level where he had created some of his first art pieces. 

With slow steps, Dream approached the table to sit, but his mother was quick to swoop in and shoo him back. 

“Aht— Not yet. There’s still a bit left to do in the kitchen, young man.” She held up a pointed finger, “You don’t think just ‘cause you’re grown you can sit and make me do all the work, hm?”

“No ma’am.” Dream replied, straightening up instinctively. 

She still held that motherly power over him. 

“Good.” His mom smiled softly, then beckoned him to follow her into the kitchen, “Come then, love. Go downstairs to the porch and get me some paper napkins, will ya?” She asked, shooing Dream through the kitchen quickly, “And put them at each plate. Thank you, sweetie.”

Dream sighed to himself. If he was his younger self, he might have muttered a ‘whatever’ , and his mother might have scolded him for talking back. They both knew better nowadays.

The door shut behind him as he took the old wood stairs down to the porch, stepping inside. 

Napkins, napkins, napkins… Ah, there. 

He picked up a plastic package of napkins with little flowers on them, tossing them around a bit before settling them under his arm to bring upstairs. 

A bit of movement from the glass door outside caught his attention before he could leave, though.

Rain. 

Dream didn’t know exactly what compelled him, but he was drawn to the pattering rain against his father’s tarp covered workbench right outside the door. The brown plastic fabric swayed in the breeze and splattered heavy drops of water off its corners. 

Without a second thought, Dream placed the package of napkins aside and stepped towards the open glass door. 

His sneakers squelched in the mud that built up quickly, but he payed it little mind. The blond’s focus was entirely on the tree line— swaying leaves catching and dropping heavy beads of rain. The tarp, the rain beating against the plastic. Rattling Dream’s senses. 

Deafening. 

So much noise. 

God, it’s disgusting out here. 

Dream didn’t know why that was his first thought. It took him by surprise, and he quickly backtracked. 

“No.” He said out loud, softly, “It’s just rain.”

Rain is pretty. 

“Rain is pretty.” Dream repeated his thoughts in a whisper. 

And as if the blond was on autopilot, body working before his mind could, Dream stepped out from under the shade of the beige tarp. 

Drops of freezing water padded onto his hair first, seeping in and rolling down the back of his neck. Then, they scattered down his forehead to freeze his rosy, freckled cheeks. The water became less and less harsh with each slicing droplet that fell onto his upturned face. 

His eyes fluttered shut with each drop that landed too close, neck craned to let the water swallow him whole. 

“I can’t believe we survived that!”

George’s words were coated with his sweet laugh. 

“I told you I’m a good driver, George.” Dream laughed back. 

Rain fell in heavy sheets onto the car, and neither boy wanted to get out first. It was okay, though. Dream would have sat inside that car in that parking lot forever if it meant George was by his side. 

Low music faded from one song into the next, and Dream’s eyes perked up. 

“Oh! This song!” Dream smiled widely, shaking George’s arm.

Soft lyrics rolled from the speakers, and Dream cranked the volume up to the highest setting. 

George giggled, swatting Dream’s hand away weakly. 

“It-it’s too loud! Dream!” He complained, but he couldn’t seem to stop laughing at Dream’s singing. 

“Come on!”

Dream opened his door as soon as the words left his mouth, stepping out into the cool rain. 

“You’re fucking insane!” George rolled his eyes, but soon, his seatbelt was coming off. 

The second George was out, shielding himself from the torrential downpour, Dream ran to his side. Within a second, Dream’s wet hands were on George’s cheeks, pulling the brunet in for a warm, passionate kiss just as the chorus played. 

The loud speakers were drowned out by the sound of their hearts beating in their chests. The sound of George’s chuckle against Dream’s lips. The sound of Dream’s content sigh against George’s. 

It couldn’t have been any more perfect than that. 

Dream’s fingertips were frozen, pinks and reds danced under his skin as each drop stabbed his warm flesh. 

It was… grounding. 

This was the first time all day Dream felt like he was inside his own body for once. His thoughts calmed down to a low rumble like the rain patter on the leaf littered grass below. 

It was pretty. 

The deep blue of the new night sky was accented by oranges and browns, wet shiny leaves swaying and drifting down to the ground. The last of this year’s leaves were finally laying to rest. 

Yet somehow, even the strangling branches seemed so alive, clawing their ways up in the sky as if thanking the universe above for letting them live on. 

And… it was quiet. 

Loud and overwhelming drops grew quiet. With nothing to stop the rain from reaching the soil, it landed with soft taps rather than harsh slams on metal and plastic. 

From under the shelter of the tarp, the world seemed so gray, so dark. Cold and uninviting. Disgusting. 

Scary. 

If you stay here you’ll be safe. 

All it took was one step into the darkness for Dream to see how wrong he was. It wasn’t scary. 

You won’t get hurt. 

It smelled like ice and dirt and lemon balm. 

If you don’t feel those emotions…

“How can you not know if you want to like someone back?” George’s question over the phone rang in his ears, “It’s yes or it’s no.”

You won’t get hurt. 

George’s words churned his stomach over again as he remembered them. 

Maybe sometimes, you just need to step outside and feel the rain on your skin. 

Maybe sometimes, you just need to feel.

Dream spun on his heel, digging his shoe deep into the mud before making his way back onto the porch.

His clothes were soaking wet, and he was shivering, the coldness seeping into his bones. He didn’t seem to care. 

“Honey, what’s taking you so—“ His mother turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs, a sharp gasp leaving her lips. 

“Mom, I—“ Dream started, but was promptly cut off. 

“God, you’re soaked!” She exclaimed, hands to her lips and brows furrowed, “And the mud— My lord, Dream, what did you do?”

“I-I need to go.”

“What?”

Dream gave her an apologetic glance, but this time, he was able to meet her eye. His conscious wasn’t as heavy. 

“I have to do something important, mom.” Dream stumbled over his words as he tried his best to keep himself from bubbling over with emotion, “I have to go talk to him.”

“Who?” She sighed exasperatedly, “God, Dream, you’re not making any sense!”

“I— Mom, I just… I have to go.” He sighed as well, “I’ll tell you all about it once I work everything out. I promise.”

She made a noise of disapproval. Though, both of them knew there was nothing she could do. 

And with a smile and a rushed goodbye, Dream was out the door. 

Emotions are big. Emotions are scary. They can be overwhelming and consume you from the inside out. 

Dream dug his keys into the ignition and pulled out of the driveway in one swift motion, not even caring about how wet the seats were getting. 

Hiding from emotions doesn’t help. Hiding from things that make you feel big emotions doesn’t make the problems go away. Keeping everything under wraps and avoiding everything just make them louder. 

It makes them excruciating. 

The road was hazy, icy rain padding against the windshield and obscuring the glass as soon as the wipers could slide it clean. Dream knew exactly where he was going, though. He could have gotten there with his eyes closed. 

Even though it seems like it would be worse to let them out, to let yourself feel, sometimes that’s what you need. 

In the minute he was outside, it all hit him at once. 

There was no hiding from how he felt. 

There was no hiding from how he felt about George. 

No amount of ghosting could take away the fact that he liked him still. And that was scary. It meant that George had an effect on him. It meant that George got to see him at his weakest moment, he got to see him more vulnerable than ever before. 

It’s a terrifying thought, being vulnerable. 

Dream took the step back to realize, to truly realize that that emotion? It won’t hurt him. If anything, it hurt both of them more by keeping it to himself and putting up a front. 

And all it took was some rain to get the idiot to realize it. 

He could only hope that it wouldn’t be too late.

Chapter Text

“Okay, okay!” Dream giggled, hands gripping onto George’s shirt loosely to push the brunet off of his face. “Quit!”

George slowed his flurry of kisses down to a halt, wet, pursed lips resting right below Dream’s clenched shut eye. The tip of his nose tickled his eyelashes as the blond took a breath to steady himself. 

“Nuh-uh,” George hummed against Dream’s freckled skin, “Not done yet. Gotta get the other side.”

“No!” Dream mused, his laugh coming back as soon as George’s kisses did. 

All over his cheeks, jaw, forehead and nose were covered with little pecks from George. Dream fought back with little effort. His brows, eyelids, and chin came next, and eventually, the brunet slowed once again. Hurried kisses turned into warm, slow ones that made Dream shiver as the smaller raised up at an agonizingly leisurely pace. 

Chin. 

The right corner of his lips.

Dream felt George’s breath hover over his own mouth, and his lips reached to meet it, but George pulled back. Cool, soft fingers were pressed against Dream’s forehead and pushed the blond down. 

His eyes cracked open, brows furrowed beneath the hand as he gave a dissatisfied groan. 

“Patience, idiot.” George whispered, and Dream felt each syllable against his skin as the brunet continued to move. 

The left corner of his lips. 

Dream let out another hum, slightly more content now that George’s lips were reattached to his face. 

George hovered again. His lips parted slowly as he leaned in.

Top lip. 

Only the slightest bit of pressure— like a butterfly’s gentle kiss. 

He lifted up. Bottom lip. 

George sighed with satisfaction. Through barely parted, blurry eyes, Dream watched George’s dark irises disappear behind his eyelids. 

Kiss. 

Wet gravel crunched under the tires as Dream stopped harshly in the driveway, headlights flooding the air around him. As soon as the car was shut off, though, the driveway was plunged back into a thick, wet darkness. 

Dream stumbled as he got out of the car, frozen rain seeping into his clothes again and forcing him to shiver as he ran through the yard to reach George’s door. 

Under the awning, Dream sighed. One more second under the rain and he might have frozen to death. 

He took a second to catch his breath before ramming his fist against the door a few times.

He didn’t have enough time to really collect his thoughts before the door cracked open just a few inches, enough to show half of the familiar brunet’s surprised face. George’s expression quickly faded into something bitter, brow and eyelid lowering once again in the dim light from inside. 

“What do you want?”

Dark mauve painted below George’s eyes, circles hanging heavily from his reddened waterline. Even in the darkness, Dream could see the tiny veins that spread through the corners of his sclera. 

“I need to talk to you.” 

“Why?” George asked sharply. 

Dream hesitated. Don’t back out now. 

“I hurt you.” He started, eyes falling in shame down to George’s feet. 

“You did.” George answered quickly, rushing Dream along. 

“I-I’m sorry.”

George waited a moment. Rain fell heavy on the grass, splashing against itself and filling the silence that settled between the two. 

“Do you even know what you’re sorry for?” George’s voice was low and scratchy. 

Dream bit his tongue hard, a breath getting lost in his throat. George shifted, the door sliding open only a few inches more. 

He gave Dream a second, but with no answer, he scoffed. “And you can't even look me in the eyes to say it.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me.” Dream started, voice shaky, “Even after I promised I would be no matter what. And I'm sorry I didn’t talk to you for… a long time after that phone call.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me?” George asked in a small voice.

“I… I don’t know.” Dream admitted.

His rain soaked hair dribbled hot water down his neck and into his equally soaked shirt. 

“Because you wanted to forget about it.” George stated harshly. “Because you wanted— no, hoped— I would get over it and call you back eventually when I was done being emotional. Right?”

Dream opened his mouth, but his tongue was dry. With the sudden weight on his chest, he didn’t think it possible to even glance back up at George. The guilt tore into him like a rabid dog. 

“What else?” George prompted Dream to continue with a shaky sigh. 

“I-I…” Dream steadied his breath again, “I was scared that you liked me still. I was scared because I liked you too.”

“So you ran.”

“N-no, I—”

“You ran from your feelings.” George cut him off, “And from me.”

Dream’s head spun. The rain in his ears was like static filling his brain up with a guilt that threatened to pull him under.

“Yes.”

George hummed to himself. 

“After promising you’d be there for me.”

Dream hesitated again, “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Right.” George nodded and let out a heavy breath that Dream felt from across the doorframe. “I don’t forgive you.”

Dream’s brows furrowed, and for the first time since arriving, he looked up at the man inside. 

“What..?” He said, but it barely escaped his throat.

“I told you to call me when you got your shit figured out. You didn’t.” George spat, his words like razors burning his skin. “You still haven’t.”

“I-I know, but what if—” 

“Cut it out.” George stopped him short, “‘What if’ what? What if you can make it better? What if you can do it better this time? What if you change? For god’s sake, Dream, this isn’t some kind of cute little fairytale. You can’t just… come to a realization you were in the wrong, apologize, and expect everything to be okay.”

Thunder boomed, followed by a lightning strike that cracked the sky in half. Dream jumped, but George only spoke over it. 

“Do you know how much it hurt me to finally be able to open up about my feelings only to be shut down and told to leave by the person I care about the most?” George’s voice sounded desperate.

“I… I know.” Dream said softly, “It’s awful. I shouldn’t have done that to you.”

“You shouldn’t have. You’re such a fucking pussy that you can’t face your own emotions.” George’s lip twitched.

This feels like the end.  

“I am.” Dream let out a half hearted chuckle, “I’m feeling them now, though. It feels so bad.” The blond raised his shaky fingers to rub the hot tears that formed on the corners of his eyes, “I never wanted to hurt you like I did. I-I feel so guilty.”

“You should.” A malice grew in George’s voice, “I hope that guilt swallows you. I hope you drown in it.”

I will. 

“And I hope you grow from it.” George sighed.

Dream’s eyes met George’s, confusion contorting his face. George looked back calmly, strat tears dripping down his cheeks despite his relatively relaxed expression. 

“Huh?” 

“You have to feel the consequences of your actions, Dream.” George said curtly. “That’s how you learn. That’s how you grow.”

George chuckled sadly. His hand left the door for the first time since opening it to palm at the tears that seemed to flow more freely now. The brunet’s short laughter came to an end with a wet sniffle and a cough to clear his throat. 

“I’m kind of disappointed, you know?” He started as he wiped his hand onto his shirt, “You’ll be all fixed and healed for the next guy. Sad it couldn’t have been me.”

“It should have been you.”

Another crack of thunder sent shivers down Dream’s spine. 

“It should have been. But it wasn’t.” George shrugged, “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Dream’s voice cracked like the lightning above, and just like the rain, his eyes flooded all at once. 

“You’re a bitch.”

“I know.”

“Glad we can both agree.” George chuckled a little. “Here, give me a second.” 

Without giving Dream the chance to respond, George shut the door in his face. 

Dream’s tears slowed down after a moment, and he took his minute of privacy to wipe the snot into the collar of his soaked shirt. 

God, he felt so bad. 

If only I had just…

“Here.” George’s voice came from the door once again. 

Dream glanced up to meet the brunet’s eyes, red and puffy. He could only imagine that he looked the same. 

Below, though, George held out a blue towel and a handful of crumpled up tissues. His fingers trembled when Dream’s got close. 

“I’d invite you in but… I’m not sure if that’s the best thing to do right now.” 

“Thank you.” Dream said hoarsely. 

“I still care about you.” George said, though he sounded almost annoyed with himself. “As stupid as it sounds. I don’t hate you.”

“I wish I could go back in time.”

No more running. No more leaving.

“Me too.”

I'd do everything differently. 

Dream held his words back as he dried himself just a bit, letting the damp towel rest against his shoulders as he blew his nose. 

“I meant it when I said I felt more that past month than during our whole relationship.” George said after a moment. 

“I know.” Dream sighed, “I wish I could start over.”

“Don’t think about what you could have done.” George shushed him, “Think about what you can do now.”

Dream nodded, short and simple. 

“I think I should go back inside. It’s getting cold.” George cleared his throat. “You should go, too. Don’t catch a cold standing out here soaking wet. You look like a stray dog.”

“Idiot.” Dream laughed. 

“Go home.” 

“I will.”

Dream gave his hair one last rub before passing the towel back with shaky hands. Thunder overhead began to fade into the static of the rain in his ears, the loudness comforting the blond. 

“Good night.” Dream said softly as his hand fell back to his side. 

“Be better. Heal.” George said sternly, though there was a hint of affection in his tone that made Dream smile. 

“You too. You deserve so much better.”

“I know.” George smiled sadly, “So do you.”

“Do you think…” Dream stopped himself, but George’s curious expression made him continue, “Do you think I could ever be that ‘better’ for you?”

“Maybe.” George answered honestly, “But not now. Not soon.”

“Okay.”

“Get better for yourself, not for me.” 

Dream didn’t answer. He knew he was right. 

“Good night, George.”

George stepped back for just a second, waving softly. 

“Good night, Dream.”