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Dream's never been unloved.
He likes to think maybe he has been. That maybe in some other universe, in another world or timeline there's a reason the world hates him. That maybe, there's cause for the way he sometimes feels alone and ungrounded. Validation for the rootless loneliness that brews in his chest when the world spins too fast and the air becomes too dense to breathe.
Above everything he yearns to be tethered and held and loved securely without bounds or limits or conditions. The desire to love just as he does, to want love with such desperation, search for it with blinders on, and finally find it.
Because love like that is different. He's been loved. He always has been, even if he's tried to deny it.
He's loved by his family, his friends, his fans and all of that love is a reason to keep shining, to spread his own.
That sort of love isn't weaker than any other kind of love. It can't be defined by the words platonic or parasocial because at the end of the day it’s still love. Love crafted from blood or water, loyalty or obligation, it doesn't matter. It's still love.
He flourishes under it, he loves it and he's never been without it , he's never not appreciated it.
But this love, this new love so fragile and all encompassing, Dream's never felt anything like it.
Dream's never been unloved but he's also never felt love like this before.
George gives a little snort in his sleep and curls an arm around Dream's bicep. He sniffs again and pushes his face into Dream's shoulder. Despite him being asleep, Dream curls closer as if to comfort him from a non-existent threat. George is perfectly content, frowning softly in his sleep but Dream coddles him anyway. He'll love on George until the end of time and by now it's almost second nature to bring George into his arms and rub away the wrinkles between his eyebrows with the pad of his thumb.
Sometimes, when sleep escapes him and the night drags on forever, holding George and watching him sleep brings a peace greater than Dream has ever known.
George, surprisingly and in spite of his cold feet, radiates warmth that settles around them both. The feeling of George in his arms is a grounding one and Dream's certain he's far past tying his heart to George’s wrist. He's been bound to George for a while now, maybe since before George even arrived in Orlando, maybe since before Dream ever heard his voice, maybe since before time. Maybe that love, the love Dream had just found, had always existed.
George jolts, a probable reaction to him coming out of deep sleep, and he pulls his one knee up to his chest, nearly kneeing Dream in the groin.
It brings him back to the first time George decided to slip into his bed, half drunk, half sick, fully delusional. He kicked Dream nearly a thousand times getting comfortable. Muttering little things under his breath Dream couldn't decipher, drunken babbles that only suited to remind Dream more and more of just how in love he really is, infatuated actually.
It hadn't been a slow descent into madness at all. Once George had invited himself into Dream's bed and once Dream had treated him like a skittish cat, making sure George knew he was welcome anytime. Emphasizing that Dream wasn't going to shove him away when he opened himself up, George eagerly took all he was given.
It was almost as if he needed to assure Dream's touch was safe first, that he wouldn't be pushed out of Dream's arms the second he willingly accepted physical comfort. It was only when Dream returned George's hesitant affection with an abundant amount of his own, George settled into it.
And now they're here, with a love Dream had found, a love he didn't know even existed in the first place and he's lost to it, devoured by it completely.
Dream's never been unloved but he's never been loved like this before either and that changes everything.
❮-❯
Madeline changes everything.
Dream watches as George meets her at a party one day. She accidentally walked into the wrong bar, the one a content creator friend of theirs had privately rented out. She apologises when Sapnap playfully points out she's in the wrong place but surprisingly it's George who invites her to stay.
George, Dream's ‘I'd prefer to stay at home and sleep than make friends’ George, chooses to sit with her the entire night, talking with her.
In hindsight, Dream should've listened in, slid into the booth next to George and joined the conversation, bump his shoulder into George's, place his palm over the back of George's hand, anything to establish some sort of claim on the man who slept in his bed each and every night. A claim Dream wasn't even aware he needed in the first place.
He could've but he didn't. There was no doubt in his mind that unspoken words were enough. Dream knew George and knowing George meant knowing how to read between lines made of George's flippant eye contact and purposeful actions. The most venomous ‘ you're an idiot’ could mean the strongest ‘ I love you’ and knowing that came with knowing George.
So Dream didn’t intrude. He had a great night and didn’t pay much attention to what George was doing, save for occasionally checking in with him, making sure he didn't secretly hate the party or wanted to go home early. Even on the rare times that Dream intruded, not once did George seem uncomfortable so Dream thought nothing of it.
But slowly, Madeline changes things.
After that night George spends more time typing on his phone instead of swiping, less TikTok more texting. He giggles and smiles at his screen more and when Dream asks what's so amusing, he doesn't have a video queued up to show him or a tweet he passed while lurking but only returns Dream's question with reddening cheeks and his phone screen tilted from Dream's view.
He'll text in their bed, phone curved away from Dream, screen lighting up the beaming smile on his face, accompanied by rosy cheeks.
It's honestly a little startling because Dream has never seen George so flustered and giggly like this and when Dream nudges at his arm and asks for the slightest bit of attention, George brushes him off with a ‘ just a minute, Dream.’ That minute turns to hours, hours turn to endless evenings of Dream falling asleep a foot or two outside of George's arms, turning his back on a giggling George.
He knows George tries to keep in his laughter to let Dream sleep but every once in a while Dream will feel the gentle shake of George trying to contain himself and he'll know George is talking to someone.
It's confusing at first and Dream certainly doesn't know who George is talking to but he passes it off as maybe Callahan, maybe Sapnap, probably Larray, and decides it's nothing to worry about. Not when George is still in his bed and still smells like his shampoo and still accepts Dream's extra hoodies gracefully.
It doesn't occur to Dream that something is wrong until Madeline comes over to their house for the first time.
George opens the door for her while Dream is sitting on the couch in the living room, one hand on Patches’ spine and the other on his phone, losing himself in a series of tweets.
He doesn't recognize her at first. She appears way different in the white lighting of their house. Pretty and refined, blonde curls falling in soft looking ringlets over her shoulders, blue eyes alight. She's nearly as tall as George in the shoes she's wearing but she carries herself differently, confidence in every step.
She seems calm and put together, but shy when George invites her in. She gives him a smile and George smiles back. But what makes Dream really stop and stare is that this is not in fact a polite George smile. It's a bashful George smile full of genuine fondness. Sometimes Dream gets the same smile in the early mornings when Dream wakes up to George rubbing his face into Dream's chest before sheepishly smiling up at him, sleep in the corner of his eyes and hair ruffled from sleeping under Dream's arm all night.
George introduces the girl as Madeline and Dream immediately remembers her. She looks more comfortable in her current outfit then she did in the dress she had been wearing that night at the bar.
“We're uh—we're going to watch a movie in the theatre,” George says to him, already tugging Madeline away and towards their theatre room.
“Oh.” Dream looks up. “What movie? Would I like it?”
George hesitates. “I'm not sure.” He pauses and considers. “Probably not. It's kind of horror-ish.”
In that moment, Dream recognizes two things that really should've set him off. One, George is holding Madeline’s wrist with a tenderness Dream has never seen George touch anyone with, not even him. And two, George is lying.
If George can tell Dream is lying by the sound of his voice then Dream can tell George is lying by the way he moves, the way he chews at the inside of his cheek with uncertainty and the way he reaches up with his free hand to brush his hair aside.
George doesn't want him to come.
That's fine. Dream thinks nothing of it. George doesn't need him to be within arms reach all of the time. He does like to run off with his friends sometimes, including spending time with the girls or meeting up with Larray or heading off into the darkness with Sam and Colby and Dream knows better than to step on George's toes. George, as much as he probably would never admit it, is a free, and often quite restless, spirit. When Dream had tethered himself to George, never once did he think that George's tether to him would be nearly as tightly bound. George needed his space.
So Dream lets them go, giggling off to their movie. He only checks on them once to deliver the food George had ordered to their door.
George thanks him and practically shoos him away with his hands. Dream still thinks nothing of it. Or rather, very little of it.
There's a nagging feeling in his chest telling him something isn't right but with deeper introspection it feels more like a seed of jealousy beginning to sprout and Dream knows that's not fair.
He's forever thankful for the life George is able to have now, where George isn't stuck all alone in a grey apartment in a grey city, separated from his friends. Dream knows it hurt them both but he imagines it probably hurt George more than he knows. So this, now. Feeling negatively because George is spending time with a friend without him and probably not even knowingly excluding him, it's wrong and selfish. And Dream tells himself so until he convinces himself of it.
He pretends he can't hear the nagging at the back of his mind, shoving at his shoulder, telling him George lied to him. Dream brushes it off.
❮-❯
Dream wakes up with no George in his bed and no second hand warmth wrapped around him. The left side of the bed is cold and the blankets are still tucked in. Patches is curled up at the foot of George's side of the bed and when she sees he's awake she gets up, stretches, and ambles over slowly, butting her head against the back of Dream's knuckles until he pets her and scratches beneath her chin.
Eventually, he drags them both out of bed, rubbing at his eyes as he walks down the stairs with Patches at his heels.
Sapnap's already in the kitchen, hovering over the stove with his music playing in the background and George is sitting at the island, tapping at his phone. Shocker.
Dream comes up from behind him and rests his weight against George's back, and his chin on the top of George's head. He hums and closes his eyes as he lightly wraps his arms around George's shoulders.
“Dream,” George playfully warns. There's a fondness to his tone that immediately soothes all of the drifting worry in his chest. George isn't avoiding him. Maybe he just pulled an all-nighter.
“Where were you?” Dream asks, wincing when his tone edges into a whine. He brings his head down to the one side of George's face, pressing his cheek to George's ear. George squirms and sets his phone down, trying to twist on the stool and wiggle his way out of Dream's arms. All he ends up achieving is pivoting half way so Dream can kiss his cheek. George makes a sound that sounds like a squeak and pushes against Dream's chest. He's smiling though and Dream's chest swells with love for him.
“Can we not do this?” Sapnap asks, pointing a spatula at them. “I don't care if you guys sleep together or whatever but save the kissing for your bedroom.”
George's smile drops into something confused. “We're not—what? We're not.”
“Whatever,” Sapnap says and he goes back to the sausages he's flipping around. Dream pays him no mind and continues to hug George, eagerly making up for lost time of not being able to hold George in his arms overnight.
“Where were you?” Dream asks again, with more of a playful pout than a whine this time.
“Line stayed late. We hung out all night and I didn't want to wake you up by getting into your bed.”
My bed?
“Who's Line?” Dream asks, deciding that's a good place to start.
“Madeline,” George replies. Immediately, his eyes light up and once again a dreadful flip of Dream's stomach says something isn't right.
“Is that what I heard?” Sapnap turns around, eyebrow quirked upwards. “Dude, I thought you were watching p—”
“What? No!” George shrieks. “What are you talking about?”
“You went back to your room, didn't you? I thought you—”
George is glaring at Sapnap and Dream can't figure out why.
“I did go back to my room,” George says slowly, firmly. “I went back to my room alone.”
Sapnap immediately appears uncomfortable. He shifts his weight and clears his throat. “Okay,” he says. He turns back to his breakfast and George's shoulders fall with a silent exhale of relief.
Dream doesn't find any of this weird. He's too focused on examining the little freckles under George's eye, inspecting them and wondering how any camera could possibly pick up how tiny and perfect they are.
❮-❯
Madeline hangs out more often. Dream doesn't mind her presence. She's sweet and thoughtful and quite honestly, nothing like George.
When George and her spend the afternoon making cupcakes Dream preemptively braces himself for a messy kitchen and hours of cleaning. What he sees instead is a neat and tidy kitchen and a tower of expertly frosted pink cupcakes. There's a couple blue ones sloppily frosted that Dream assumes are George's.
When Madeline is around George is especially tame. He's polite to Sapnap and never tries to start anything. And when he does attempt something mischievous, Madeline scolds him and he immediately falls into step. George has never been obedient like that, not even with Dream.
George has always been rather unhinged but Madeline seems to have a strange effect on him. It's like George is purposely trying to be on his best behaviour, as if he cares about what she thinks of him. If Dream didn't know better he'd say George was trying to impress her.
One day he walks into George's office and finds him editing, full on focusing with his head set on and Madeline close by, crocheting in a bean bag chair beside George's desk.
Clearly she's a good influence on him and Dream finds he worries less about George knowing he has a friend like her.
But, admittedly, Dream also begins to find Madeline’s presence enjoyable. She's nearly as amusing as George and offers emotional support to the entire household when needed in the form of baking or just sitting and listening.
“It's nice getting to know George's friends,” she tells Dream one day. He knows on paper her words sound good, like she really is happy getting to know them. But something about her tone flicks a little switch in his head. The way she says it makes it sound like she's purposely learning about George for some malicious reason. Or, she at least has some ulterior motive.
Dream just returns the sentiment.
“Line's staying over tonight,” George tells them one evening over discord. Dream's parkouring on Minecraft, trying to rub some off the rust from his skills and Sapnap's switching back and forth between Minecraft and Valorant when he tires of failing the same jump over and over again.
“Oh, so you're telling us now?” Sapnap asks. Dream notes his tone is somewhat unfriendly, stiff. “How nice of you.”
“I—yeah? I don't know. Thought you'd want to know.”
“So I can prepare my headphones? You're so thoughtful, George. Very considerate.”
Dream butts in. “Do I need to make up a guest room?”
A tense silence falls over their call. The only sound is the ding , pause, ding , pause, ding , of the Parkour Warrior map.
“She's—she's staying with me,” George says and Dream squints at his screen, watching his character's fist careen into the void after a space bar pressed too late. He can't possibly mean— “In my room.” He does.
He knows he's been vacant in their bed as of late. Recently they've been sleeping at different times. Dream up late, parkouring or editing or stressing before passing out on one of their various couches for a brief nap, just a couple hours to get him going on his next project or practice session.
But George has been sleeping in their bed just as he always does. Dream can tell by the way the sheets are twisted when he returns to his room to grab something.
So he decides it's reasonable for George to want to spend some time with a friend while Dream's too busy to be there. He knows for a fact if George was the one too busy for him, he'd be going to find Sapnap and bothering him for some sort of attention. He can't blame George for wanting to spend some extra time with a friend he actually seems to enjoy spending copious amounts of time around.
“I think there's an air mattress in a closet somewhere,” Dream offers. An outstretched hand to show he's okay with the idea of Madeline staying over and not mad George won't be in their bed if Dream does decide to sleep at a normal time. He doesn't know if George's silence is acceptance or contemplation.
“I'll take that guest room,” Sapnap pipes up.
“You want to switch rooms? Why?” Dream asks.
“Noise complaint.”
“Sapnap,” George warns, a hiss so venomous Dream almost wishes for Madeline to come and calm him down again.
“Fine, whatever. God, you're so testy about this.”
George doesn't argue anymore after that. He stays for a while longer then leaves the call. Without asking, Dream knows Madeline's arrived.
❮-❯
If anyone asked, Dream would've told them he loved Madeline. That she was a light in the room, shining nearly as brightly as George. That she was beautiful and smart and Dream loved having her around.
Loved. Past tense. Loved.
Because Madeline's presence quickly turns from a blessing into a curse. Madeline's presence, of which Dream had appreciated, turns into a rock sinking into his stomach.
Dream found a love so bright and good he didn't know what to do with it. Dream found a love of which he had assumed existed even in silence. Never once did he stop to wonder if it was only him who had stumbled upon and found this love. How could he have thought that when George was right by his side the entire time?
They're at a party, sort of like the one George met Madeline at and Dream's head spins as he works. He considers this a part of his work. Reaching out and greeting other content creators, speaking to them and watching as they slowly accept him in return.
And it's good. He's enjoying himself despite the headache beginning to pound at the inside of his skull. Sapnap's somewhere, talking to Hannah and Sylvee maybe.
Dream weaves his way through people until he bumps into Punz.
“Hey, have you seen George?”
“Oh, uh—yeah. He went that way with—oh hey! You didn't tell me he had a girlfriend by the way!”
“Girlfriend?” Dream repeats, frowning.
Punz's excitement crashes just as quickly as Dream's pleasant smile. “Yeah, he introduced us earlier. Did—did you not know?”
Dream shakes his head and Punz lets him slip past.
Did he not know? How could he have known! This entire time he thought that George wasn't even available, that George wasn't looking because they were on the same page.
Dream had found George's love and George—well, Dream just assumed that George sleeping in his bed and becoming more physically affectionate with him meant the same, a nonverbal way of reciprocating.
Dream knew George and knowing George meant Dream knew George would rather turn into vapour and disappear on the spot than confess any sort of vulnerability. Dream thought that letting it go unsaid was a way of keeping George comfortable without pushing him too fast.
But then Dream really thinks as he's walking.
Did he know? This whole time, had he been purposely ignoring the signs.
The sleepovers, the distant looks, the hiding away together, the way Madeline had him on a leash, the way Sapnap sneered and turned up his nose whenever they were within five feet of each other, the same way he used to pretend to gag at Dream being too close to George, the way George couldn't seem to stop following her around, a mirror reflection of how Dream used to never leave his side.
Oh. George is in love.
When he does find his best friend and Madeline, they're not kissing, not hugging, not even touching. But George is sitting at a table with her and he's leaning so close to her with a glimmer in his eyes that Dream can't deny.
George, on the rare occasion, had gazed at Dream with a spark that felt like cautious want but the way he looks at her is different. He looks at her the way Dream knows he looks at him. He looks at her with infatuation and intrigue, like he can't get enough of her and wants to know more.
And the worst part of it all? She looks back at him with the same adoration, the same love, returned in full.
Dream found a love that didn't exist through George's eyes and even while he feels the shattering of his heart pour out over the club floor, he can't help but smile through tears.
Because George found love, just not with him.
❮-❯
It's silly how the status of his best friend's love life completely alters his entire world.
His bed is empty again and his sleep schedule gets thrown off to hell and back. Sapnap's DNF jokes, of which had once annoyed George and amused Dream, are completely missing as if they've been written out of his code. And George no longer leans into his touch (not that Dream puts much effort into physical affection anymore anyway, too scared of crossing a line).
The only thing that stays somewhat normal is the DNF jokes for the fans.
He's never considered DNF to be a performative scheme and always more of his genuine self, to show just how much he loves and appreciates his friends through playfulness.
It's different now.
We could kiss? Really means: We won't.
We've talked about whether… Really means: We'll never address it again.
Because he's gay and we're dating. Really means: We're not. We never will be.
He knows he's being dramatic. There's been a couple times when Madeline has come over and Sapnap's had to pinch his hip to remind him he's glaring too hard or is holding his posture too tense.
And George never does say they're dating but everyone knows they are. Madeline comes over daily or stays over and doesn't leave for a couple days and Dream hates it but he's slowly beginning to accept her presence.
He gets used to seeing her in their kitchen and the extra baking that sits on their counter. It becomes natural to see Madeline walking through the house or sitting with George on the couch. And it becomes an almost daily thing for George and her to go out somewhere on their own.
George doesn't need him for video ideas anymore. Not when Madeline has a fresh perspective and even more creative ideas. George doesn't need his emotional comfort anymore. Not when Dream's certain Madeline is the one to hold him together. George doesn't need him to drive him around and get him food anymore. Madeline does so without complaint.
It makes him sick some days when he looks over at George and feels the familiar pang of heartbreak. Of course he still loves George. He'll forever love George.
But loving George means he sees how much Madeline makes him happy, how much better she is at keeping George motivated and full of energy. George shines with or without her but when he's with her he might as well be as bright as the sun.
George hasn't told him they're dating but he doesn't have to. Dream ignored the signs for long enough and now he sees it, all of it for what it really is.
George is in love.
George is in love with a girl who is currently stealing Dream's cat.
He comes down to the kitchen late, hoping to avoid Sapnap who's been noticing his strange schedule. He notices Madeline on the couch, watching T.V with Dream's cat sleeping on her stomach.
A flare of rogue jealousy rears its head, ugly and boiling.
She stole George and now she steals Patches from me too?
Dream scolds himself and fills up his water bottle and a cup of ice. That thought isn't a fair one. Madeline didn't steal anyone. She didn't steal George or Patches.
“Where's George?” he asks.
“Streaming.”
This late? Without me?
Of course it's not a regular thing for Dream to be a part of George's streams but tonight he feels it like a dagger through his heart.
He used to spend so much of his time with George. Now he hardly sees him. Now it feels like the only people George ever has time for is Madeline and his fans. Dream wonders if Sapnap feels the same disconnect or if it's only him losing his mind.
He hums and finishes up what he's doing in the kitchen. Before taking the first step up the stairs, he turns.
“Patches,” he calls. His cat flicks an ear his way but makes no move to get up. He clicks his tongue. She opens her eyes and blinks at him before pointedly snuggling further into Madeline's side.
And Patches does that for everyone who comes over to their house. Dream knows that. He also knows that Madeline isn't a stranger anymore and Patches knows her, in fact she just might be sleeping at the end of George and Madeline’s bed every night. It would explain where she's been.
Madeline gives Dream a sheepish look but her face drops when she sees the way Dream's looking at her.
He's been told he has a bit of a resting rage face and that when he's pissed he can look pretty scary.
It's not even necessarily that he's mad right now, at either of them, but his thoughts and insecurities are eating him alive so he turns and walks up the stairs to a George-less room with no cat at his heels.
Dream loves that George has found someone to love. He just wishes it didn't hurt so bad.
The next morning George breaks into his office while Dream's editing, shutting the door behind him.
Dream removes his headphones and turns, smiling already in hopes that maybe George wants to hang out, maybe he actually wants to talk to Dream or take a look at the video he's editing.
Instead, George is glaring at him and Dream knows he's done something wrong.
George crosses his arms over a puffed chest and Dream sinks down in his chair. He already knows he's about to get scolded.
“Could you at least pretend to like her?”
“What?”
“You know what I'm talking about. Don't do that.” George moves to take a seat on the edge of his office bed but he does so with tense muscles, very different from the way he normally throws himself on that bed, all loose limbed and relaxed. He's almost hostile now. Dream doesn't know what he's being accused of. “You can't just go and glare at my girlfriend, Dream.”
Oh, so— oh.
It's the first time George has referred to her as anything more than a friend. Dream already knew, it took him a while to figure it out but he knows now. It broke his heart and now it's like George is playing with the broken shards, throwing them around the room uncaring who they hit.
“I didn't—I wasn't trying to. I just—I didn't mean to, George. You know that.”
“I don't actually.” George's eyebrow quirks up and it's the first time Dream has ever felt like George isn't on his side. George doesn't believe him.
Dream pushes for his trust back anyway. “You—you do though, George. You know me. I wouldn't—I like her. She's—”
“You do a piss poor job of showing it,” George bites, words like a striking snake. “Would it kill you to sit down and get to know her? Fuck, Dream, I'm not even asking that! Just don't make her feel like she's unwelcome here. Is it too much to ask for you not to glare at my girlfriend?”
“I'm not trying to make her feel unwelcome,” Dream says slowly. He's fighting rising anger, furious with George for not understanding how much he misses him, how mad he is that instead of splitting his time with George's partner like he thought he originally would if George ever chose someone who isn't him, she's taking up all of his time. She's taking his cat too for crying out loud! “It's just—it's change, George. It's going to take me time to get used to it. Her.”
George scoffs and sarcastically says, “I'm so sorry I didn't check with you if it was okay to fall in love with someone. I'll make sure to ask for your blessing when I go to propose.”
“No, George, no.” Dream stands quickly when George gets up to walk to the door. He reaches for George's waist like he always does to move George to where he wants.
George shoves him off. “Do not touch me.”
Dream yanks his hand back like George bit him and swallows again the painful sob building in his throat.
“You know what, Dream? I don't care if you don't approve of her or whatever. I don't—I don't fucking care, okay? So just leave me alone.”
Dream can tell by the sound to George's voice and the way he won't quite look at him that Dream's opinion meant the world to George. He wanted him to approve of her and it's hurting him thinking Dream doesn't.
But he lets George walk away thinking Dream doesn't like her because Dream doesn't have it in his heart to tell George otherwise.
Especially not when it would be a lie.
❮-❯
Dream's not surprised when Madeline hangs around for a couple months because in his mind, she's practically already married to George.
He's come to terms with the fact that George doesn't belong to him anymore, not the way he used to think he did.
Madeline has almost fully moved in and the closer she gets to George, the more cuddling and quiet kisses Dream has to witness, the further he pushes George away to protect his heart.
He can't go a moment laughing by George's side without wondering what it would be like to have George with him for the rest of his life. He can't help George with something without wondering if this is the act of service that convinces George Dream would be the perfect best man at his wedding. He can't stand in the same room as George and Sapnap because Sapnap constantly sends him looks of pity or apprehension, like he's trying to gauge whether or not Dream's about to do something stupid.
It's November when it happens.
They're being hit by a little storm that Dream barely thinks about. It's raining and cold outside but not windy enough to warrant concern.
Somewhere in the distance a door slams and Dream looks up from where he's been trying to reach under the couch for a stray cat toy. Originally, he had been cleaning the kitchen but Patches had distracted him by batting a pipe cleaner around his feet before shoving it under the couch and now Dream's trying to fish out a bunch of toys she seems to have hidden under there.
“Sapnap?” George calls out with uncertainty as he rounds the corner. His face falls when he sees its Dream. “Oh, it's you .”
They haven't been the same since that one argument in Dream's office. And George would never outright say it but Dream can tell he's still hurt by Dream refusing to get to know Madeline on a personal level.
Dream gets up fully, stepping closer to examine George with concern tugging him forward.
George is soaked from head to toe, black t-shirt dripping water onto the floor Dream just mopped. It's plastered to his body and he's shivering with his arms wrapped around himself like he's trying to hide. He turns his face away from Dream but Dream catches how blue his lips are.
“What the fuck?” Dream whispers, bravely reaching out to take the tail end of George's t-shirt. It's soaked and cold like he expected. George steps away. “Did you walk home or something?”
It's meant to be a joke but George doesn't answer, just clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering and glares at the couch behind Dream.
“No, George. Tell me you didn't actually walk home.”
“I deserved it,” George says, fully convinced it’s the truth. It punches a hole through Dream's chest, the shock so impactful it nearly sends him an entire step back. “Whatever, I don't want to talk to you about it, you're just going to boast about how right you were. I get it Dream, you were right. I'm going to be alone forever. Fuck off.”
“When did I ever—George I would never say that. That's not true.”
“You didn't have to! I knew by the way you reacted to me calling her my girlfriend. Like it was so shocking I could possibly ever be with someone.”
That's not why! Dream wants to scream. I was surprised because I thought we were dating!
He knows he can't be mad at George for that. It was a slight miscommunication but he can't simply tell George that's why he disliked Madeline. He can't simply say, oh sorry, I hate your girlfriend ’cause I thought her boyfriend was mine. He's not sure how that would go over but he's certain it wouldn't exactly go well.
“Let's just—how about we get you cleaned up and then we can get a snack or something, would that be okay?”
George looks up with a glare but upon seeing Dream staring back at him with a patient fondness, his face slackens and he nods, though petulant.
“Okay,” he says, barely mouthing the word.
Dream steps forward again and this time George moves with him, following him up the stairs, the sound of his wet socks squeaking behind him.
He collapses onto his side of Dream's bed when he enters the room and immediately curls up into a ball of wet clothes and now wet comforter as he hides his face into Dream's blanket.
Dream knows, as he goes to his bathroom to grab a towel, that this is going to be a George thing where he's embarrassed about it but too stubborn to admit it. Something happened and now he's building walls around himself. Hurt, but embarrassed by it.
Dream returns with a towel and some cream for the puffiness under George's eyes. Then he searches through his drawers for any George clothing items that might've gotten left in his room. He comes up empty handed but grabs some of his own clothes instead.
“George?” The wet bundle of George on his bed grunts in response. “Could you sit up?”
George grumbles something that sounds like, “Don’t wanna.” But it's rather incoherent from where he has his face smushed into the blankets.
“Just for a second. Just so you can breathe, maybe.”
George unfurls with another grunt and silently Dream helps him out of his wet clothes. Every touch is okayed by George first and when he wants to do something for himself, he swats Dream away. The wet jeans are a battle but they manage and Dream scrunches up his nose when George throws his wet socks across the room.
George sits there in Dream's bed, only in his underwear and looking like a drenched cat but Dream can't feel anything but an overwhelming fondness, a well of love that springs up no matter how many times Dream tries to bury it under the rubble of his broken heart.
With careful and respectful hands he helps George into one of his sweaters and a pair of sweatpants that certainly don't fit but George makes them anyway.
His shivering has subsided and the colour slowly returns to his lips. He sits perfectly still as Dream uses the towel to dry his hair, fluffing it around until it's only damp and not soaked.
When he pulls the towel away George looks at him and whispers, “holy cow.”
Dream smiles back. “Yeah, George. Holy cow!” He's not sure why but George brightens. It's not quite a smile but Dream notices his spirit lift.
He helps George with the eye cream next, dabbing it under his eye and rubbing it in. George closes his eyes to make it easier and leans into Dream's palm, letting Dream hold up the full weight of his head.
He doesn't ask why George's eyes are puffy like he's been crying, just does all he can to help.
“Good? Better?”
“Yeah,” George murmurs. He still hasn't opened his eyes. “Li'l bit.”
“Do you want a snack now? Apple slices?”
“No,” George says, stubborn. “I want to sleep.”
Dream watches in stunned silence as George crawls himself further up Dream's bed and burrows into what used to be his side. He yawns and covers himself up like he belongs there, leaving Dream stepping all over his own broken heart, trying to understand.
He waits for a moment, sorting through his confusion. When George doesn't move Dream gives in, resigning himself to pulling the now wet comforter off the bed. The comforter drags the blanket George has off of him and he seems to startle, propping himself up.
“What?”
“What?” Dream asks back, blinking.
“Where are you going?” George sounds frightened when he asks. “Are you leaving?”
“No, I just don't want to leave the wet blanket on the bed.”
“Oh,” George says. He lays back down but there's still a wariness in his eyes and Dream doesn't want to ask because he knows George would never answer but he's never seen George like this, anxious Dream will leave the room.
Dream leaves the wet comforter in a heap on the floor and slowly gets into bed with George. It's not late at all, seven at night at the very latest, but George has melted into a puddle of exhaustion. The tension drains from his face, falling away and without thinking Dream reaches out, tugging George closer to him by his waist.
He braces himself for George to push him away, for him to tell him this is wrong, that George has a girlfriend and Dream's crossing lines he's not allowed to anymore.
George grabs onto him with a death grip and buries his face into Dream's chest instead. His shoulders give a little shake as Dream drapes an arm over him, still unsure but needing to comfort. George only burrows deeper, like he's trying to press his forehead into Dream's heart.
Dream inhales and exhales slowly. He can feel George's hurt like it's his own. George's pain is a heavy pressure that physically weighs down on his heart.
Dream doesn't like Madeline sure, but he's never wanted this. He'd do anything to prevent this from happening, give anything, even if that meant George was the thing he was giving up. Anything as long as George is happy.
“You're okay,” he tells George, gently dragging his fingers through George's hair, thinking about how damp it is and the rain outside, how cold George had been when he came home drenched. Dream swallows and bites down hard on his cheek to keep from crying. “You're going to be okay.”
❮-❯
Dream has never seen George like this. Not in all the time they've lived together.
George refuses to leave the bed. He gets up only to stumble into Dream's bathroom and even then he doesn't do anything but use the washroom before returning to bed.
He doesn't shower, doesn't brush his teeth or change his clothes. He just stays in the clothes Dream gave him.
He refuses to eat, barely drinks unless Dream forces him too and even that is a desperate struggle of dragging George until he's sitting and holding a cup to his lips. Usually, simple bribery would work wonders but nothing Dream offers him works. George just sleeps and sleeps.
The most shocking thing is the way George doesn't even touch his phone. Dream found it in the jeans they had left damp on the floor.
It feels like a breach of privacy when he sits on the end of their bed and unlocks George's phone. There's a couple messages from Sapnap George ignored beneath Madeline’s pinned messages.
Everything in him tells him not to but he opens George's messages with Madeline, pushing aside the guilt and justifying it with his concern for George.
He knows where George walked home from. He's not stupid. There's only one person George would be out visiting and not feel like he could call Dream to drive him home.
Surprisingly, George's messages with Madeline are all normal, couple-like messages. Nothing recent that shows there had been a fight or an argument.
So Dream sets George's phone on their nightstand, defeated. All he's achieved is breaching his friend's privacy and still has no clue of what happened or how to fix it.
He climbs into bed with George and drapes his arm over George's waist, just to let him know he's there.
George sleeps for days. Sometimes, Dream's certain he's not even asleep, that he's just laying there with his eyes closed.
He lays there while Dream gets in and out of bed and doesn't move when Dream comes with water and a plate of food for George to barely pick at. On the fifth day, with Sapnap also becoming worried and standing behind him in the doorway of Dream's room, Dream decides to push.
“George, you have to shower.”
George just squeezes his eyes shut and pulls the blanket up to his face, as if he could hide away from Dream.
“Please,” Dream whispers from where he's sitting on the bed. He sets his palm on the blankets that lay across George's legs. George pulls his legs to his chest and away from Dream's touch. “Just a shower then you can sleep again, promise.”
“George, dude. You're stinking up Dream's bed,” Sapnap says, leaning against the door frame. He's not trying to be mean, Dream can hear the concern in his voice but Dream sends him a silent glare anyway.
George hides his face further, shoulders pulled in.
“It'll make you feel better,” Dream says, attempting to convince him. “George…”
George shakes his head into the blanket. Dream's shoulders fall.
“Okay. That's fine. I'll let you sleep.” This time when he touches George he doesn't flinch away and Dream's satisfied knowing he didn't upset George more.
“No, no absolutely not! George, get the fuck up.” Sapnap's voice cracks a little and that's how Dream knows it's hurting both of them seeing George upset like this. “George, I'm serious. I'll drag you to the bathroom if I have to.”
“Nick,” Dream warns, keeping his hand on the miserable lump that is George, almost protectively now. He knows Sapnap means well but he's also not fully certain Sapnap wouldn't attempt to force George into the washroom. “It's fine.”
“No! It's not fucking fine , Dream. I wouldn't be fine with him getting his George stink all over my bed while I wait on him hand and foot ‘cause this motherfucker refuses to get up and take care of himself.”
George winces beneath Dream's palm. He can feel the way George is cowering but Sapnap can't feel it. He doesn't understand his words are hurting George.
“Sapnap, drop it please.”
“No! Fuck off! He doesn't fucking deserve you, Dream and you sure as hell don't deserve having to put up with this!”
Real anger takes hold of Dream and he opens his mouth, ready to immediately jump to George's defence.
A quiet sob comes from the bundle of George.
Dream's hand, of which he thought was shaking with his own anger, is actually shaking with George's crying.
Sapnap deflates immediately, the anger and fear draining from his eyes.
“George? Fuck—I didn't—fuck dude, I didn't mean that.”
Sapnap stays quiet while Dream rubs George's back through the sobs until his crying fades into silent hiccuping and shaking breaths.
“Is he okay?” Sapnap asks, softly but so, so sad. Dream knows he really didn't mean any of what he said. He's just scared like Dream is. There's no ‘George manual’, no instructions of what to do when George shuts down like this.
Dream can't be angry at Sapnap, not when he knows he's just scared.
Dream gives Sapnap a nod but he's not sure he believes himself.
Sapnap starts talking about going out to get George as much McDonalds as he wants and Dream stays and rubs his back until George's breathing goes from wet from crying to evened out and rhythmic.
He leaves the sleeping George behind and grabs George's phone, closing the door behind him.
He makes the call in the kitchen where he can stress clean with his phone trapped between his ear and his shoulder.
He finds the contact in George's phone easily and without overthinking it too much, hits the call button.
The closest thing to a ‘George manual’ possible.
“George?”
“Uh, no. Sorry. It's—it's d—Clay.”
There's a silence that falls over the other end of the call and Dream furiously scrubs at a speck of something on their marble countertop with a rag.
He's nervous. Way too nervous but he doesn't blame himself. Not when he's never talked to this person before—
“Dream,” the person on the other end says with a gasp. “Oh! Dream!”
—which is why it's so startling that she recognizes him by his name alone.
“Hello, uh. Sorry…” He's not sure what to call her. Her last name? Ma'am? “I didn't know who to call.”
“Is George okay?” Immediately her tone turns into something nervous. No, not nervous. Motherly.
“He's—he's fine.” Dream says slowly. It feels like a lie. “He's just not feeling himself.”
There's another pause and then, with a surprising amount of care in her tone, portrayed even over the phone, “Tell me about it, darling.”
Immediately he tells George's mother everything. He sets his phone down and puts her on speaker, pacing circles around the kitchen island as he stumbles over an explanation.
He knows he probably shouldn't be telling her about Madeline. He's not sure if that's something George has shared with his mother or not but once Dream starts he can't stop and the words flow easier than he expected.
There's a sort of guilt that weighs on his chest. He's the one supposed to be taking care of George, making sure he's happy. He's the one she was supposed to meet months ago but he had gotten sick and gone home instead. So far he's pretty sure his first impressions aren't great.
“He's so unhappy here,” he says after he's done explaining the months of Madeline and how George had come home, soaked and shivering. “He won't get out of bed. He won't eat, won't shower. I don't know what to do.”
There's a thoughtful hum from the other end while Dream composes himself, out of breath from walking and ranting.
“I guess I shouldn't be surprised you've never seen him like this. I don't suppose he's allowed you to see him like this.”
“He's been like this before?”
George's mother doesn't seem surprised and that almost—calms him. Realistically he knew George wasn't dying or anything like that but it's still a major relief to hear this has happened before and George has gotten through it.
“More than I care to admit,” she says with a quiet chuckle. “It's always been his way of processing.”
Dream immediately feels lighter. The anxiety in his stomach dissipates into an amount that doesn't make him feel like he's going to be sick.
“I'm sure you remember this but a couple years ago, you two had a fight.”
Dream does remember that. He can laugh about it now because looking back it was about something stupid and unimportant but back then he had nearly driven himself insane when their fight had led to a week of silence from George and Dream had over-thought it until he was certain George was done with him for good.
But of course George came back with an apology that barely had the word sorry in it. Dream had responded with paragraphs upon paragraphs of appreciation and apologies laced with affection, ready to do whatever it took to make sure George wasn't still secretly mad at him.
“He didn't pick up his phone for days,” George's mother says. “I went over to his apartment and he was exactly like that. Not eating, not showering. The works.”
But all alone , Dream thinks, frowning. Because of me.
During that week of silence Dream had nearly worked himself to death to ignore the pit of guilt in his stomach and the echo of their fight but he had still been functioning. Somehow it's worse now to know that George had shut down, all alone in his apartment while Dream was fine and had Sapnap for support.
“What you're doing right now, Dream. It's more than he's ever had. Give him a few days. Keep doing what you're doing.”
“And he'll be okay?” Dream asks, full of vulnerability and care.
He can hear her smiling when she says, “I'm sure he'll be just fine.”
Sapnap arrives home an hour after Dream's call with George's mother and thrusts a McDonald's paper bag into Dream's arms.
“Go apologize for me. I'm going to stream,” is all he says, heading for his room with his own bag of food.
Dream takes a bottle of water from the kitchen and heads upstairs with the bag. He's not certain he'll be able to get George to eat but he knows if he begs enough he can get George to drink.
He nearly startles when he sees George isn't in his bed.
The bed looks freshly made in an unprofessional manner but clearly there was some effort put in. George's clothes that were on his floor have disappeared too.
Dream sets the water, food, and George's phone down on the nightstand. He sits down on his bed and grabs his phone, going to text Sapnap to ask if he's seen George.
George walks out of his bathroom before he can send the text message.
He's changed into a new set of Dream's clothes and his hair is wet. He wraps his arms around himself when he sees Dream and ducks his head to stare at the floor.
“You showered,” Dream acknowledges. “Good job.”
“Yeah,” George says. “Sorry. I should've used my bathroom.”
Dream blinks, setting his phone down. “You're allowed to use mine. You always do.” Atleast, he always does when he stays over in Dream's room and for the past few days that's all George has been doing so Dream didn't expect anything different.
“I'm going now,” George says but he doesn't say it like a statement. He says it like an excuse. Like he's appeasing Dream in some way or trying not to get in trouble. “I just couldn't find my phone.”
“Oh, right. Sorry. I had it.” Dream grabs George's phone off his nightstand and holds it out. George takes it with hesitancy but doesn't ask any questions about why Dream had it. He starts heading for the door. “Where are you going? Sap got you food. Come sit with me.”
George pauses. He looks back at Dream with sad eyes, heavily shadowed by the dark bruises under them. Despite showering he still looks exhausted and drained.
“On your bed?”
“Where else?”
George swallows. “You don't deserve this,” he says and Dream realises what's happening all at once.
Damn it, Sapnap.
“He didn't mean that, George, he's just worried about you.”
“He's right. You knew Line—you knew Madeline was—”
“No, I didn't. I was being—” jealous. “I didn't know it wouldn't work out. This—none of this is your fault.”
“Okay,” George says but his voice wavers and his eyes start shimmering with tears. “But you're taking care of me. Are you not still mad?”
“I never was. Not really.” I was jealous.
George seems hesitant to believe him but his eyes turn more trusting.
“Come lay down with me,” Dream says, patting the bed.
“On your bed?”
“Our bed,” Dream corrects. “Come on, I think Sapnap got you apple slices.”
George rounds the bed and tucks himself into Dream's side, watching him dig through the bag for the yellow packet of apple slices. He doesn't seem to want anything else besides them but Dream's just happy he's choosing to eat at all.
He asks to watch something with Dream and that in itself is surprising, that George actually wants to do something other than sleep.
Dream knows there's a chance that George is doing this just because of what Sapnap said but he chooses to believe it's more than that, that maybe he's getting better. Dream desperately hopes that's true.
They're watching a show on Dream's phone propped up on a cardboard box of nuggets when George decides to interrupt.
He holds up one of his apple slices and stares at it with a twisted frown. "How do they get the apples into the package and keep them fresh?"
Dream thinks about it for a moment. “Chemicals probably.”
George looks at it for a moment more before holding the apple slice out to Dream in an open palm.
George doesn't share his food often and he especially doesn't share his apple slices, not when there's usually six or less in the pack but he still offers it to Dream, eyes expectant.
Dream takes it because he feels like he'd be letting George down if he doesn't and George seems pleased.
Their show drones on in the background and Dream tries to refocus on it instead of making a big deal out of George's actions. It feels like George's affection but Dream's been wrong before. He doesn't want to assume anything, not this time.
“Do you think,” George interrupts again, “we could spray my relationships with chemicals?”
“To—what?”
George snorts at Dream's confusion. “So they don’t go bad.”
“I don't think it works like that.”
“No?”
“No.”
More silence but now Dream's too busy thinking to keep up with the show. George finishes his apples and puts the garbage back in the bag before beginning to pick at the fries Sapnap got him.
Dream bites back a smile. Little wins.
“I think I did everything wrong,” George says when there's been too much of a pause again. His tone alone nearly pierces Dream's chest and cracks his ribs open. He settles on not immediately reassuring George and only squeezing him, drawing a comforting pattern over his sweater sleeve. I'm here. I'm listening. “I annoyed Sapnap. I made you mad. I upset her.”
“You didn't make me mad,” Dream says. “It wasn't anger.”
George's eyes beg for more, for an explanation. Dream can see there's still hurt there, it's a sore area but he refuses to explain himself. If he explains, George will know. He'll know Dream was jealous and where do they go from there?
From then on George will assume Dream will hate all of his future relationships, or assume that the only reason Dream cares for George at all is based in romantic feelings and that's not true.
It would be different if Dream thought there was even a chance that part of George's love could rest with him but he knows now that George's heart isn't with him the way Dream’s is invested in George. There's nothing wrong with George not returning Dream's feelings but it only makes Dream want to hide his own feelings more, like a (not really) well kept secret.
Tell him. This is hurting him thinking you hated her.
“Okay,” George says, “but I did upset her.” He chews at his lip and Dream frowns. The Dream from months ago might've reached up and used his thumb to pull George's bottom lip from his teeth but now it feels wrong.
Dream had thought all those months ago that George knew about Dream's crush on him. Now it's different. It feels like a secret. And while touching George has never been something Dream saw as strictly romantic, it still feels too intimate now.
“You can talk about it, if you want,” Dream offers. “I won't judge you and I'm not mad.”
George gives him a wary glance. “Madeline's moving to Australia.”
Dream's not sure what falling thirty feet onto solid pavement would feel like but he's certain this is it. The air gets stolen from his lungs and for a painfully long second, he can no longer breathe. Is George moving out? Is George moving away?
“Stop. Stop that,” George grumbles, pinching Dream's arm. He doesn't seem mad, just light heartedly annoyed, like he knew Dream was going to react with a good amount of shock. “I knew you were gonna do that. Relax, I'm not leaving.”
“But—she is?”
“It's her childhood dream to live there, I don't know. She talked about it a lot on our first couple of dates. I just didn't expect her to want to go so soon.”
“So what exactly upset her?”
“Seriously? I'm not going with her, Dream. Obviously, that’s what upset her.” George crosses his arms and wiggles his shoulders until he's pressed further back into the pillows, further into Dream's arm.
“You didn't even consider going with her?”
“No?” George frowns. “It's—it's stupid!”
“Moving to Australia is stupid?” Dream sits up a little so he can face George more.
“Yes,” George says with complete certainty. “It is.”
“George, you're saying your girlfriend's lifelong dream is stupid.”
“She's not my girlfriend!” George bites out. He sits up too so he can be almost as tall as Dream instead of arguing up at him. “Not anymore. And yes! It's stupid Dream, it's really fucking stupid.”
“Alright, George, fine. What's so horrible about Australia? What could possibly be so dreadful about Australia that you wouldn't even consider moving there with her?”
“There's no you!”
Dream refuses to let George's words move him a second time.
“And so what George!” Dream says, voice rising. George's eyes flash with shock. He shrinks back a little. “We're—we're in such a unique position where you can practically move anywhere you want, George! Anywhere! You work for yourself, you have the money and you wouldn't do it all for what? For your best friend?”
“Yeah,” George says, voice quiet. “For you.”
Dream doesn't know what to say to that. He's frustrated because he doesn't understand how George could be so selfish he wouldn't even hear her out.
“You don't understand.” George's voice turns desperate. “I can't go back to only having you through a screen. I can't go back to—to not having this.” He places a hand on Dream's knee and Dream nearly pulls away. George's eyes beg him to stay.
“I'm just your best friend, George. She's your future, she could be your future wife, future family. I'm just—I'm nothing.” Nothing compared to that, is what he means to say but it doesn't come out like that and he doesn't have the bravery to correct himself. “Just your best friend.”
“Is that why you didn't like her? Because she made you feel like—nothing?” George says the last word with hesitancy, like he can't even comprehend how Dream could feel like that but his body language stays open and allowing and he doesn't seem mad. “Do you feel like nothing now?”
Looking around the room, at George in his bed and George's phone discarded in the blankets and George's abandoned cup of fries, Dream can answer honestly.
“Yes.”
It doesn't matter how much of George appears in Dream's possession, he’s his but not really his and that's okay, but it does mean that Dream, in comparison to all of George's future lovers, is nothing or at the very least, miniscule compared to their importance.
George leaves his fries behind. He sits up and moves towards Dream, knocking Dream's phone and the box of chicken nuggets over with his knee. He grabs onto Dream's sweater, digging his fingers into the collar and Dream expects him to shake him, playfully shout at him about how he's wrong, that Dream's his best friend and that means something of course, just not everything.
But George practically climbs half into his lap and grabs his face, pulling Dream towards him by his jaw and by his sweater. He digs his thumb into Dream's cheek, fingers curled under Dream's jaw, and with an easy glide of experienced movement, he pulls Dream's face up to his.
“You are not nothing,” he whispers, “you are my entire everything.”
Dream's eyes flutter shut and the tension in his shoulders drains from his body the moment George's lips press lightly into his. George's kiss is warm, inviting, and absolutely terrifying. Dream’s heart catches like it's been snagged on a fishing lure. A sharp swell of pain stabs him in the chest and for a moment he feels like he's dying but it might just be George stitching his heart back together instead.
George's death grip on his face eases when Dream kisses back. The hand on his face slips to the back of his head, encouraging Dream closer. George tastes like salt and apples and that alone just might be Dream's new favourite combination of things.
He never expected George to kiss like this, not this gentle, not this guiding. Not like he actually cares, not like he's holding something he loves.
George pulls away and places a palm against Dream's chest. His eyes widen and Dream's not sure if he's feeling the way Dream's breathing, heaving for breath after being kissed into shock like that or the pounding of his heart behind his ribs.
George just kissed him. George just kissed him.
“Don't freak out,” George says quickly like he knows exactly where Dream's head is at. He probably does. “I just need you to know that you're not nothing and I'm not just staying here for my best friend. I'm staying here for my everything. For Sapnap and for Patches and for you.
“I can't go back to needing you like I did with an ocean between us. I can't move away knowing I'm giving up time spent with you. Even platonically.
“I liked Madeline, sure,” George continues, shrugging. “And I'm upset because I hurt her but she asked me if I would give up the one thing I refuse to let go willingly. I'm not ready to let go of you, Dream. Not yet. Not until you grow bored of me and find your own person to love.”
“That kiss,” Dream says, touching the pads of his fingers to where he can feel the echo of George's kiss. It feels like he's been changed, shifted in some way.
George nods and says, “I need you to know how much I love you, in every way. That kiss—that's it. That's how much.”
And it's such George logic that it makes Dream want to cry.
“I liked Madeline and I'll probably like other people at some point but you first Dream, first and foremost you.” George seems so earnest.
“Was I making it up?” Dream asks. “Or were you in love with me before you started dating Madeline?”
George looks away immediately but Dream watches the flare of embarrassment paint his cheeks bright pink.
“I was. I am. It doesn't matter,” he says quickly, tripping over his words. “I didn't want you to know about Madeline in the beginning because I was worried you supporting me would just be confirmation you didn't care if I met someone else but then you didn't like her and it's like you were mad at me and somehow that was worse.”
“So if I supported you that would've hurt you and the fact that I didn't support you also hurt you?”
George considers then nods.
“You're so strange, George,” Dream says with a sigh. He lays back down, heart full with love for George, love for his strange mannerisms too. He outstretches an arm in invitation and George lights up, immediately he flops himself down into Dream's side, resting his hand on Dream's chest and pushes his nose into Dream's cheek. “I was jealous,” Dream admits.
“You don't have to be,” George murmurs. His lips touch Dream's cheek as he speaks and it makes Dream's stomach flip, with nervousness or excitement or pure joy he's not sure, but he loves every bit of it.
George, normally never the one to initiate cuddling between them, brings his one leg up to lay it over Dream's hips and his arm to lay across Dream's chest, koala hugging Dream's side.
“We'll talk about it more in the morning,” Dream decides. George winces, probably put off by the idea of having another draining emotional talk but relaxes when Dream's hand slips to the thigh placed over his hips. Touching George doesn't come with an added layer of guilt now. It's absolutely liberating.
And somehow, Dream falls asleep like that. Laying on his back with George's limbs on top of him and his breath on his cheek, lulled by the idea that George, in some way at least, could love him.
❮-❯
They don't end up talking about it in the morning. Dream gets pulled away from their bed early for a call in his office with Manager Ken and George, though he claims to be feeling better, begs for one more morning to stay in bed, and Dream, ever allowing when it comes to George, relents.
The conversation they're supposed to have, the conversation Dream promised George they would have, gets pushed to the back of his mind as his schedule begins to fill. The days feel shorter than they should, consumed by a new wave of responsibilities.
A week passes but every time Dream even considers sitting down with George and talking with him, the uncertainty of it all paralyzes him and he manages to convince himself out of it.
He tells himself it's better if he doesn't push George for anything more than he's willing to give.
Just like in the beginning, when he thought they were on the same page and speaking their own secret language, when really, they hadn't been on the same page at all. He's doing the same thing now, hoping George can read him and just know that he's allowed to take from Dream whatever he wants.
Still, there's an underlying fear that they're not on the same page again, that George's kiss just meant he loved Dream, not that he wanted him. There's a difference, and the longer Dream lets himself dwell on that difference, the bigger the pit of anxiety in his stomach grows.
But he can't tell George. No, he can't let himself guilt George into something Dream's not even sure he actually wants.
The entire conversation they had, the kiss in the middle of it, somehow George had managed to dodge his way around confessing and while Dream thinks he knows what George was trying to say, Madeline’s left some uncertainty in her wake.
Does George really want him or did he just feel like Dream would get mad and leave if he were to tell him differently?
The idea that George kissed him, not out of love but because that's what he thought he had to do to keep Dream around is quite honestly sickening and the worry gnawing at Dream's heart worsens with the thought.
He's almost paranoid that he's unknowingly hurting George, that it's all going to catch up to him eventually and this thing that he's done to George, he won't be able to escape it when it inevitably blows up in his face.
“Dream, hey.” Sapnap snaps his fingers in front of Dream's face. “Did you hear me?”
“What?”
Milo is in his arms, curiously sniffing the arm of Dream's sweater, probably smelling Patches there. The twins are cute, Dream has to admit. Naomi's with George across the room, stuck in their own little world.
This wouldn’t be the first time Dream's gotten lost in his thoughts while staring at George doing something especially heartbreaking, like being beyond gentle with a shy kitten.
“So? Christmas party, yes or no?”
Sapnap's looking at him, eager for an answer. He doesn't seem upset that George waltzed into his room with Dream at his heels, only for both of them to steal the attention of his kittens.
“Here or somewhere else?”
“I was thinking somewhere else,” Sapnap says. “Somewhere with a bar. We could hire a drink maker or something.”
George scoffs. “A bartender? A mixologist?”
“Whatever. Yes, that.”
Dream tries to hide his grimace.
He hasn't been able to look at content creator hosted parties the same since Madeline. He knows he's being slightly overprotective over George, a little possessive maybe, but he doesn't want any of that situation to happen again. Not his jealousy, not George getting hurt, and selfishly, not wanting George to find someone else.
It's not right. He doesn't feel right knowing part of him wants to hide George away, put him in the spotlight but be the only one to shine light on him. Be able to say, ‘look at this amazing human, who's beautiful and perfect and mine .’
He wants George's love but he's not willing to upset George by asking for too much or being possessive of something that doesn't actually belong to him.
George's phone, which sits on Sapnap's bedroom floor screen up, buzzes. It buzzes again, vibrating against the floor and it catches Milo's attention. He leaps from Dream's arms to stalk the buzzing phone, tail swishing and Dream watches him fondly before he notices the name flashing on George's screen.
Line.
It's like he's been shot, or paralyzed maybe. Immediately the paranoia and nervousness in his stomach band together, chanting: ‘ you were right, you were right, you were right’ over and over until Dream swallows and drags his eyes to George, who, to Dream's surprise, looks just as sick.
“You have to answer her, dude,” Sapnap says. He draws Milo's attention away with a feather toy and pushes the phone towards George. “You can't keep ignoring her.”
“I'm not ignoring her. We've talked.”
“No, you talked and expected her to listen.”
Dream puts the pieces together and supposes that during one of the days he had spent locked up in his office Sapnap must've listened in on a phone call between George and Madeline.
“She wants me to change my mind. She knows I'm not going anywhere.”
“And she's really not convincing you at all?” Sapnap doesn't seem to believe that Madeline hadn't managed to move George at all. A flicker of hope burns quietly beneath Dream's heart, warming him from the inside. Hope that George had meant it when he called Dream his everything. “That's like your first girlfriend in forever. I thought you would be willing to move oceans for your future partner. You did it for Dream and I, why not her?”
“Sapnap,” George says slowly, “I did it for Dream and you.”
Sapnap frowns. “Yeah, that's what I just said.”
“Sapnap,” George says again. There's a deadly quietness to his voice, like he's willing every bit of genuinity he has into his tone. “I did it for you. I did it for Dream. I wouldn't for anyone else.”
“For Dream,” Sapnap repeats. He looks to Dream with a raised eyebrow and Dream tries to portray his innocence with a simple shrug. He's just as oblivious as Sapnap. “So what? Dream's more important than a future partner?”
“So I've learned,” George says but he's smiling softly and Dream can't take it. He can't take any of this.
He gets up and grabs George's wrist, pulling him up off the floor so fast George barely manages to get his legs beneath him before Dream's dragging him out the door and into the hallway. Poor Naomi flees to Sapnap after George is stolen away.
He let's go of George once they're safely away from Sapnap's room.
George doesn't appear concerned in the slightest, just expectant with raised eyebrows.
“We're talking,” Dream says with a quiet stamp of his foot and a stern look that only seems to amuse George more. “This is—this is the talk.”
“Talk then,” George says, cocky and down right infuriating. How dare he be so certain about this? Dream feels like he's constantly on the edge of losing George and here George is, knowing Dream would rather die than ever leave his side. It's unfair.
“No,” Dream says, if only to take back some of his control. He steps forward and shoves George back, letting his left hand come up to protect George's head from bashing into the wall. George grins up at him as his head hits Dream's palm, reaching to place a hand on Dream's outstretched arm. It's like he's pointing out the fact that Dream can't even push him around without making sure he won't get hurt.
The second Dream leans closer George moves to reach for him, tilting his head and pressing his lips to Dream's. Their second kiss surprises Dream just as much as the first one did.
Dream would've never imagined George to kiss this softly. George is impatient and eager with most things, Dream expected him to be the same with kissing but it's like George is purposely kissing him with tenderness, deliberately keeping the way he brings his hands to Dream's neck soft.
It doesn't feel like George is taking anything from him but rather moving with him, speaking to him. And Dream kisses him back hoping he'll get his words across in a way George understands without scaring him off. Kisses him harder when George's palms press under Dream's ears and his thumbs brush over his cheeks, painfully gentle.
He keeps up with Dream and there's no hitch in his movements that convince Dream this isn't something he wants. He curls his fingers into Dream's hair and tugs, added pressure that has Dream gasping against his lips because how the fuck does George know exactly how to melt him down to nothing?
When Dream gasps George pushes him away a little to breathe but Dream can feel his smile on his skin and folds forward when George nudges him with his nose and asks for another kiss. Just a gentle one. It's innocent.
“What the fuck?”
Not innocent enough.
Dream rips his hands away from George like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. George's head thuds back into the wall and he groans. His hands reach out for Dream, catching on his sweater collar.
Sapnap stands outside of his bedroom door. He's holding Milo but shielding the kitten's eyes with his free hand, jaw dropped. Milo squirms and climbs up Sapnap's shoulder.
“Is—is this—” Sapnap stumbles and Dream can't blame him because Dream is also trying to process everything that just happened and he was on the receiving end. He can't imagine what it must've looked like from the outside. “So this is—this is why—because—’cause this is—it's a thing.”
George untangles his fingers from Dream's sweater. “It is,” George confirms and Dream turns to him.
“It is?” he asks.
George looks back at him, nose scrunched. “Is it not?”
Dream doesn't know. He's confused and quite honestly frightened. He wants George but he doesn't want this. This half on half off kind of thing where he's not sure if he has George or if he doesn't. Where he's not sure if George will find someone at Sapnap's Christmas party and if Dream will be left to pick up the pieces again.
Dream doesn't have to say anything. George studies his face and he figures it out.
“You need me to say it,” he says, finally realising. “You needed that conversation we never had.”
“No,” Dream says because he immediately feels like he's being too much, asking for too much too fast. He can't do that. He'll overwhelm George if he does that.
His silence couldn't keep George but his words might scare him away.
“You do,” George says, frowning. “This isn't enough for you.”
No, no, no. Dream wants to scream. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid. Pressuring George, making him feel like he's not enough. He is enough. He's more than enough. It's Dream who's asking for too much.
“Dream.” George grabs his face again, still gentle but with a subtle firmness that says he's serious. “I love you.”
Each word is enunciated, said with a pause between them. George is getting his point across, never breaking eye contact, not even for the sound of Sapnap shuffling his feet and Dream has no choice but to stare back.
“You don't understand how much I've wanted this, how much it hurt to try and not want it,” George says. Dream doesn't have the heart to tell him he actually does know how that feels. “I gave it a shot, it didn't work out, but that hurt you didn't it? Me trying to move on?”
“I didn't want you to,” Dream admits and it's a large weight off his chest to confess that he did in fact have selfish feelings when it came to George in a relationship.
“I'm sorry.” And Dream knows how hard it is for George to even consider that someone might need to hear those words. I love you. I'm sorry. But George is trying so hard, fighting to let Dream inside the walls he's made inside of his mind, crafted around his heart.
It's a concoction of heavy emotions that brings Dream down, the relief that makes him feel like he's floating and the absolute crush of sorrow because George loves him and he loves him so much he's trying to speak with Dream on Dream's level once he realised Dream was struggling to meet his. It's fear and sorrow and relief that has him nearly sobbing on a random Monday afternoon just because George loves him back.
The second George notices the beginning of tears his arms fall to Dream's shoulders and he pulls them into each other, hugging Dream tightly. Dream rests his head on George's shoulder and closes his eyes. He knows there's no reason to cry now. George has got him. He's not upset or mad because Dream's asking for too much. He's hugging him like he'll never let go. Still, a couple tears slip.
“You just had to ask,” George whispers to him. “I was already yours.”
If it was up to Dream he'd let George hug him forever but eventually Sapnap clears his throat and George lets go first, laughs when Dream's arms cinch tightly around his waist, echoes of: ‘do not touch me.’ Long forgotten and erased by George's love.
“So, everything’s good?” Sapnap asks. He still seems uncertain, eyeing them warily. “This is a thing now?”
“Everything's good,” George confirms, sending a secret smile to Dream. “This is a thing.”
❮-❯
Shocking no one, being George's boyfriend comes with absolutely no change to their current relationship.
They still sleep in the same bed every night (George almost never initiates cuddling), Dream still wraps him in hugs in the kitchen in the mornings (Sapnap playfully gags), and Dream still checks up on George regularly when they go to parties (sometimes just to drape an arm around his shoulders).
The kisses are new but Dream doesn't consider them change, he sees them more as ‘the next step’ and George certainly doesn't seem to mind them.
It does take Dream time to live in peace with his fear of losing George.
Sometimes little things he notices George does in their relationship leave him paranoid.
He notices George is taking their relationship slower than he did with Madeline. That heated kisses only end in warm, loving ones and nothing more intense. He notices how George puts more effort into their date nights, leaving Dream wondering if George feels like he has to put in more effort with Dream. He notices how George is more comfortable pestering Dream than he was with Madeline, more likely to bug him or not listen when Dream tells him to leave Sapnap be.
But Dream gets his explanations, all he has to do is ask.
“It's not because I don't want you, it's because I want to do this right. I have the rest of my life with you. I don't need to rush this now.
“It's because you deserve my effort. I want this to be good for you.
“It's because I'm comfortable with you. I'm not trying to impress you with good behaviour. You know me.”
It's a new experience to be able to go up to George, nudge him in the shoulder and ask for confirmation. That yes, George loves him, loves him with all he is and Dream doesn't think the fear of being without George will ever fully go away.
He knows there will always be insecurities for George to kiss away and nightmares for George to soothe.
But at the end of the day, now Dream knows. He's found a love in George, a love they founded together.
Dream's never been unloved; especially not by George.