Chapter Text
Dream's day starts earlier today, earlier than he's gotten used to.
His eyes are already trying to focus on the white ceiling when it's barely 9 A.M
It's not that late in the day for George, he might not be crazy busy. And judging by how late he went to bed yesterday, he might have actually gotten up not that long ago anyway.
With the hope of a child hoping to catch Santa Claus on Christmas night and a small smile at the thought of George he doesn't notice, Dream reaches for his phone and already finds a Snapchat notification left by George hours ago proud on his lockscreen.
He opens the app and swipes George's username left to read it.
Morning! it reads.
An exclamation mark by a good morning text? Did the sun rise from the west today? Since when is George, a guy that Dream has observed to not be a morning person, so happy in the morning?
don't yell at me it's too early, Dream texts back, feeling all funny, smiling down at his phone like an idiot.
He puts it down onto his chest, thinking Twitter and Reddit and whatever else can wait for him today. He stares at the ceiling.
His smile disappears when he thinks about yesterday, about George's stream and about their conversation after it was done. He cringes, remembering what he forced George to endure and groans out a disappointed why did I do that? as if the ceiling could answer his disappointment.
Sapnap wasn't happy with him either. Dream knows he wouldn't be. He knew a line was crossed, a line that should have been left alone and untouched, especially with a very perceptive audience watching. Both of them know, and Dream can guess that George would have been much more upset with Dream if he wasn't exhausted out of his mind by the end of it.
He understands how their fans view their relationship, he knows they won't let either of them live it down. And for Dream, it's not such a problem: he's fine with being called a simp-- it's not the first time, it's the same old song. Everyone knows that's just how he is. What is not fine is the fact that he roped George into it and now he will have the displeasure of dealing with the teasing for being all blushy and flustered for real.
He's not seven anymore-- when will he drill it into his thick skull that sometimes his actions have an effect on people other than himself?
It's an understatement to say that he fears opening Twitter or Tik Tok or any other social media where their fans are especially vocal about their relationship.
There's another familiar sound from his phone. Dream goes to open Snapchat again, already smiling, his heavy thoughts gone just as quick as a dark cloud that's passed.
Wow I can't be excited to talk to you? I see how it is.
Dream stares at George's little avatar person thingy at the bottom left waiting for his response.
He was excited to talk to him? George is never excited to talk to him, not unless they haven't spoken in literal weeks because of one reason or another. But in those scenarios George doesn't outright say he's excited; Dream can just tell, judging by his tone of voice and by how everything Dream says elicits a laugh out of him.
Dream loves those conversation. It happens rarely that they don't get to talk for a longer period of time, so rarely because they put in extra effort to prevent it, and maybe that's what makes it so special. It's the best feeling in the world when he can clearly tell George is excited and happy because of his presence after a break.
It feels good to feel missed and wanted like that. And Dream would be lying if he said he didn't share the feeling. Finally hearing George's voice after a period of time where he couldn't felt like rain after a drought.
no you can't, Dream answers because he'd really rather George didn't. He doesn't think his heart can take an excited and happy George when it's already beating out of chest while he's just watching him type.
Dream writes his easily excitable heart off on him not being fully awake yet.
Fine then
Bye, and with this his person thingy disappears. Dream doesn't message back. He wants a minute to breathe without George being here to prevent it.
George...
The same George that had Dream shouting profanities in front of hundreds of thousands of viewers straight out of frustration and annoyance more than once is now making him tear himself apart, trying to figure out why he suddenly felt so excited when he'd get a text from him.
The same George that Dream bullied for being short to no end is now making him imagine what he'd feel like with Dream's arms wrapped around him, his head tucked under his chin.
How his hair would smell like so close to Dream's face.
How his pink flushed cheek would feel against Dream's palm. How his eyes would look down to Dream's lips.
His lips...
Dream blushes at the thought.
The same George that screams and screeches like his imaginary friend just got murdered is now having Dream imagine what his lips taste like.
Dream wants to open the window and scream as well, just how George isn't ashamed to do in front of a microphone.
Dream doesn't have a crush on George.
He is still confident that it's nothing, still forcibly chuckling in his bed with his arm over his eyes. An innocent and drawn out grosssss slips past his parted lips. He hopes to just completely laugh the idea of him potentially having these weird feelings towards his friend away until he sees George smile back at him in the dark, letting him know that that won't be an option.
Dream might have a crush on George.
Dream moves his arm and looks out the window. He wonders if George is looking at the same sky as him right now, thinking the same. There might be a possibility, George wasn't fully his normal self yesterday either.
He frowns. Of course he's not. Stop being stupid.
The idea disappears as soon as it takes place in Dream's mind. This is ridiculous. It's not a crush.
This is ridiculous, Dream huffs and jumps out of his bed with a wave of anger washing over his body.
He's not thinking of George like that. Impossible. He's not letting George make him feel like all of his crushes ever have made him feel.
He's just not. He can't.
He continues not thinking of George when he showers and gets shampoo in his eyes, when he steps out his shower and slips and almost dies and he's definitely not thinking of George while his coffee machine is spewing steaming coffee on the table because Dream forgot to put a cup down for it.
Dream watches in horror as his whole life falls apart in front of him.
With a vein ready to burst somewhere, he takes a few paper towels and hurriedly cleans up before the has the pleasure of wiping coffee off of his white kitchen floor.
He throws the wet paper into the trashcan that is in his full view and only a few steps away. The trashcan would leave him no excuse if he were to miss his throw.
And he misses it. The wet cluster falls with a disappointing wet sound. Dream's sure this is what the last straw sounds like.
"Fuck off!" He yells at the sad brown paper, so angry he can see red. The vein already burst somewhere and all the blood has rushed to his vision.
Patches comes over to the kitchen to greet her lovely owner, then. She meows kindly at him, going in to rub against his leg.
"Shut up!" He shouts at the poor cat. She looks at him confused. Dream's chest rises and falls so fast she might get a seizure if she looks at him too long.
Dream, realizing he just shouted at his damn cat, throws his head back and sighs. He tries to remember which side of the bed he got out of today.
He's sure it was the wrong one.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes to his cat honestly when he sees her still standing there, waiting for him to get his shit together, "The shower, the coffee, George's been on my mind all day..." he confides in her after picking her up. She rests comfortably in his arms, purring. "I agree, it is stupid." He nods at her, putting his forehead against the top of her small head. "Who even gets a crush from one conversation? We're not teenagers anymore."
Patches still doesn't answer, that insensitive cat, so Dream continues, "And he wasn't even serious! I'm such an idiot!" He puts the soft cat down to free up his hands. He uses them to burry his face into.
Patches meows at him again.
"That's not helping! Tell me what to do!" He still monologues because the feelings have to leave his body somehow. He's afraid that if he doesn't say them out loud, the imaginary George that just won't leave his mind will hear his thoughts.
That would be a breach of privacy.
He thinks of Sapnap. What would he think?..
"And what would Sapnap think?!" Dream shakes his head at the thought of Sapnap knowing of his questionable feelings. "I don't even want to know what he'd think!" He answers himself.
The coffee machine makes a sound. Its light turns off.
Even the coffee machine is tired of listening to Dream venting the stupid feelings he should be ignoring. The excitement of a crush can't be addressed. Dream can't have a crush on George. It's bad. It's potentially friendship-ruining. It's dangerous.
He's been here before. He's reminded of his middle school best friend. Clay was in this same predicament back then. He started crushing on him, and back then he actually had the balls to admit to it and to let his friend know, even though he did only manage to do it through a text.
He remembers the boy's okay, his answer to Clay's heartfelt confession, and how that okay marked the end of their friendship. The boy all too easily pretended it never happened, and Clay didn't stop his act.
He was so good at pretending, in fact, he started pretending him and Clay were never even friends. And that was that. Pretty simple, Clay must admit, though still heartbreaking. Clay hurt for months after it.
But he moved on as if it was just another bruise he'd gotten from falling off of his bike. Like kids do.
Dream smashes the coffee machine back to life with his palm. It has to listen to him.
He takes a deep breath and this time doesn't forget to slide a cup onto the machine's tray.
He takes a couple steps towards the trashcan to pick up the sloppy mess of a pile of paper towels wet with coffee. He picks it up with the tips of his fingers and throws it out.
This is a good start to putting his life back together.
"It's all because of that stupid fucking bet," he still speaks aloud, because he is not done, "if it weren't for Sapnap we wouldn't be here!" He turns to the coffee machine that's just doing its job. He remembers Quackity's stream. "George was never that brave! What was he thinking?!"
Dream really was just a victim of circumstance. He wouldn't be feeling like this if Sapnap didn't make the stupid bet and didn't get him involved in it. He wouldn't be feeling like this if George decided to go to sleep instead of staying with him a couple nights ago. He wouldn't be feeling like this if fucking Quackity wasn't online the one fucking day he wasn't supposed to be, and he definitely wouldn't be feeling like this if George was more vocal about his dissatisfaction yesterday.
He takes a deep breath. He can't blame Sapnap, he couldn't have possibly known. And he can't blame Quackity for looking for entertainment for his viewers either.
He can certainly blame George though, so that's exactly what he does.
Dream has been friends with George for years, and the one single time the man decides to be all bold and flirty is when Dream falls to his fucking knees as if George was the second coming of Christ.
And that's even ignoring everything that happened yesterday, and there's a lot to unpack there. It's too much to think about.
He stomps to his bedroom where he's left his phone hours ago and decides George has to own up to it.
The dude's colorblind, what could he possibly offer besides friendship?!
He can't find his phone in his bed sheets, so he gathers them up and shakes them until it falls out and hits the floor with a loud thud.
Dream reaches for it, still angry, but now the anger's laced with fear at the thought of a cracked screen. He's cracked enough phones to know just how fragile those things are.
Luckily, it's all perfect when he picks it up. That's probably the only good thing that's happened today.
He opens Snapchat again because that's apparently what they're doing now, and taps on George's name.
George's avatar thingy is already in the chat waiting for him.
Dream's anger subsides immediately. Was he angry? He suddenly can't remember.
He doesn't start typing and neither does George. They sit there aware of each other's presence for around half a minute until George starts writing.
Got anything to say? His message reads.
Dream racks his brain for anything useful, but comes out empty.
no
George types again. You left me on read for a couple hours so i thought you were angry. You ok?
Dream was not okay. He stands in the middle of his room, phone in hand.
yes, so not okay. i'm all good
George only starts typing after a few seconds this time, probably trying to decide whether Dream was lying or not.
Good, he decides. Busy?
Not busy at all. The action of dealing with his feelings wasn't exactly taking up his hands.
yes sorry
George doesn't even think of leaving Dream alone.
Doing what
Dream thinks again. suffering, he texts back, and it's really not far from the truth.
Cryptic, shows up. I like it, George's two message come one after another. Dream smiles. Keep it up
Dream's bully instinct kicks in. triple message? you in love with me or something? He cackles over the danger sirens blaring in his head.
George waits again before answering.
You make me feel like nobody else makes me feel, is his choice of words, and it's a poor one. Dream couldn't think of a worse answer if he tried. The sentence puts his entire mind into disarray.
But this is a game for George today, so Dream brings himself to play it. He wasn't going to pussy out. how do i know you're not lying?
I guess you wont know
Dream laughs at his friend obviously backing off. Even he didn't want to play his own game. As if he was the person in control and his heart wasn't shaking, Dream teases. you should've said something like "i'll make you believe it" or something
George teases back. I guess I'm just not as good at flirting as you are. I bet you do it a lot
Dream laughs, plopping his heavy body onto the edge of the bed, legs comfortably apart and elbows on his knees. i do
And Dream's typing out another witty comment when George sends another message.
I'm sure Quackity's viewers think so too with how you choked up on his stream
Dream stares at the message, speechless. All his confidence is gone and is replaced with embarrassment. George has really gotten too bold for his own good.
And he could pull him down, admittedly. He could push it further by reminding George of yesterday and how he got affected by Dream's words and the fact that he saved a picture of him, but doesn't. It doesn't feel appropriate.
Besides all of that, he doesn't have anything to say. What is there to say when George called it out like this. He's right.
He types the only thing he can think of. you're such an idiot
:)
Dream is sure George is smiling stupidly just like that when he thinks about the situation. Dream wishes he could do the same, but neither his embarrassment nor his anxiety leave him for a second.
If that was Dream's reaction to George when he didn't know of these feelings, how will Dream deal with it now that he does know? He's already slipped up more than once. He can't continue to let it happen.
He'd be doomed if George found out. That would be the most disgusting end to their friendship. Some lines aren't meant to be crossed.
Besides dealing with his feelings, he has to text George back. He's still waiting for a response.
So Dream gives him one. yeah you keep talking like that and you're never getting a face reveal
George takes a little bit to respond then, too, probably trying to figure out how much weight there is to the statement. They don't really talk about Dream's face besides when they joke about it on stream for the viewers.
Dream writes this in in his mental list of lines he's crossed. The list is getting dangerously long now.
George, being the master in not taking things seriously, just answers with a :( and yeah, Dream finds that an appropriate answer. He laughs.
not so cocky now are you, he types.
George answers with a I could be, because he apparently likes this game of tug of war they're playing and he doesn't have anything to be scared of.
Dream wonders how much more it would take to tip George over even if it were a bad idea to let it happen.
At least one of them needs to be grounded, and Dream sure as hell isn't.
oh yeah? and what would you say, Dream asks, a smirk on his face, because self control and backing off isn't in his tactical arsenal.
I'd tell you that i knew you were in love with me and that you should just stop pretending otherwise
And that's all it takes to wipe the smirk off of Dream's face. His grip feels very slippery suddenly and his phone isn't in his hands anymore. It falls to the floor with a sound that shakes Dream's mind.
It hit way too close to home. Dream can't take this anymore.
He gives himself three seconds to think of an answer before George gets the satisfaction of believing he got him again. Picking up his phone takes up at least one of those. When he looks at his screen again, George's avatar is staring back at him curiously.
George's getting too good at this. Way too good.
Dream swallows. okay i will. i'm in love with you george, is his answer, because it's appropriate. Because it's a joke.
When Dream initially heard about the bet, he was not notified George was going to abuse it too. Nobody told him it wasn't going to be a one-sided battle.
A warning would've been nice.
George answers almost immediately. Admit it that got you
It 100% did, but pride isn't the only reason to not admit to it.
absolutely it did not
Again, George is the only one of the two who doesn't seem to be in need of time to be thinking of responses. You're lying
He is. i'm not
Dream's yesterday's sentiment about never lying to George is all too easily forgotten. George was right to call him a liar.
Are you alone? he asks. Dream answers yes.
And George is calling him as soon as the message is sent. Dream startles, and this time he grips his phone tighter, determined to not let it fall a third time.
He should've answered no. He picks up the call once the initial shock settles.
"I bet your heart is racing," are George's first words, and even those - spot on.
He just does not miss, does he?
Dream doesn't miss George's tone of voice either. Amused, yes, but also much less colorful than it would sound if they were streaming. Dream prefers this voice much more, even though his phone's microphone does make him sound more robotic. It feels raw. More personal, more sincere.
"Okay, yes," Dream admits, putting George on speaker phone, "but only because I wasn't expecting a call. The sound scared me." He's not sure there even was a sound when George called. The only thing Dream heard was his heart trying to leave his chest and let him bleed out.
He wishes it did.
George laughs and that same betraying heart of Dream's melts.
It should've run when it still had the chance.
"You're lying, but okay," George says, marking the end of that topic of conversation. "What are you doing?"
"Suffering, I told you."
"Yeah, but why?" And Dream can hear the smile in George's voice.
And Dream tells him about all of his mundane mishaps of the day, conveniently leaving out the I also admitted it to myself that I have feelings for you, so I think you should do some soul searching as well because I'm not the problem he really wanted to say.
George laughs when Dream finishes with his spiel about how he shouted at poor, innocent Patches. "You're so out of it. Did you forget to take your meds today or something?
Dream wishes that was his only worry.
"I didn't, I don't know what the problem is," he says, because the words you're the problem don't feel fitting for the situation. "It's just that type of day, I guess."
"I guess," George echoes back at him. "Well if you're not busy later, Sapnap and I were going to talk. He went to the dentist today, he said he sounds funny."
Dream smiles at the thought of getting to bully Sapnap. That would really lift his spirits up.
"I'll come," Dream tells him. He couldn't miss an opportunity like that, though talking more to George when Dream's so out of it doesn't sound half as appealing.
"Okay. Good." George decides.
Dream smiles. "Good?" He raises an eyebrow. "What, you want to talk to me more or something?" Another push.
"I always do," George answers, voice light, the push ignored like a child's annoying quip. His laugh fills in the silence when Dream doesn't immediately answer. "I really thought I was gonna hate the bet, but this is kinda fun, I won't lie to you."
Dream lets his head fall. Everything's too much for him, it's far too heavy to carry. He's screwed.
"Yeah, I can tell you're having fun," that makes one of us. "Mr. Dream-sent-something-naughty." Because the fact that George has a picture of him is really the only card Dream can play right now.
George makes that choking sound he does whenever his antics are called out. "Okay Mr. You-can-screenshot-it," he speaks in a mocking tone.
"You didn't have to," Dream points out.
"That was like, the only photo I ever got of you, of course I had to save it," George defends himself. "I'm gonna make a collection when I get more." And Dream notes George's conviction that more photos will come. He's also sure that the conviction is justified.
"Oh, yeah?" Dream's voice is back to sounding teasing. He hears the familiar danger sirens blasting again. His veins beat rhythmically. "What are you going to do with it?"
"Frame it," George answers without a second thought. Dream laughs once he feels himself breathe again.
"You're gonna print it and put it into your diary probably," Dream offers. "It's gonna be like: hello, diary. This is the guy I'm a simp for."
George huffs. "I'm not a simp." And after Dream's sure, sure, he continues. "I was actually looking at the picture-- you look giant in your chair. What's wrong with you? What do they feed you?"
Dream laughs again, this time harder, successfully ignoring the fact that George was inspecting his picture, was inspecting him. "What's wrong with me?" He repeats. "I don't know George, what's wrong with being normal sized?"
"That is not normal sized," George argues.
Dream still laughs. This is what their friendship should be. All jokes and no complicated feelings. "It is! You're just the size of a lawn gnome." This is how it's supposed to be.
George chokes again, but composes himself way fast. Dream braces himself, because he knows another hit is coming and he's determined to not let this one land. "If you're so big and strong, you could pick me up, right?"
This is not how it's supposed to be. George's set on destroying this balance Dream's trying to achieve. Dream's head spins.
Not like Dream was one for balancing acts anyway.
"I could," Dream answers just as easily. "You're so small... I could throw you around like a feather."
And an image appears in his mind, then. George in his arms, legs wrapped around Dream's waist, his hot breath against Dream's neck, arms desperately holding on, lips pressing against skin.
George couldn't escape from his grip. Dream would never let him.
Dream sits up straighter and almost misses the fact that George fell silent over his own anxiety buzzing in his ears and heartbeat that's just as loud.
Almost.
"Would you?" George answers a few seconds later. If Dream didn't know any better, he'd think George was tired. His voice sounded lower. Quieter. He sounded breathless.
Now Dream is insanely interested.
And maybe George was just like Dream: not grounded enough. The thought was exhilarating. In Dream's whirring mind, there was no room for anything else but addiction.
"I would," Dream answers, mimicking George's intoxicating low voice. It was inviting beyond reason. "if you let me. Would you let me?"
And he's successful in pushing all the responsibility onto George again. Now George gets the pleasure of deciding whether they're just joking or not.
George takes a few long moments to answer this time too. Dream doesn't blame him. He'd be tearing himself apart right now too if their places were switched.
"I guess I was right when I said you were better at flirting than me," George admits, almost shamefully. He sounds defeated. Dream doesn't doubt it's exaggerated.
George decided they're joking. Dream wonders if George considered the alternative or even thought of it as an option. Nevertheless, Dream adapts. "You were flirting?" He asks with a smile.
George laughs dryly. "Yeah, I'm sure you weren't bothered by it," he says, sarcasm dripping down Dream's phone.
He was bothered. "I was just asking, I couldn't tell." But his tone doesn't give it away.
"I'm sure-- huh?" George stops in his track for a few short seconds, taking them out of the nice moment. "Someone's calling me, give me a sec."
Dream wants to ask who it is, but the call is ended before he manages to. He stares at the white screen of Snapchat's chat, at their previous text messages. They're awful. And now George isn't even here to be faced with that reality.
Dream sighs at his screen, realizing George wouldn't be half as tormented by this as he is, even if his responses seemed more encouraging than they usually would.
It's not the first time they talked like that over texts. They would do it a lot on those late nights when Dream would stay up well into the A.Ms and George would've pulled an all-nighter to keep him company.
They'd be exhausted then, but unwilling to end the conversation. Dream would try to piss George off into going to sleep with his relentless and uncomfortable flirting.
It's the first time that those are not the conditions. Neither one of them is sleep deprived, George doesn't seem annoyed and even though Dream did provoke him, George willingly took the bait.
He never did before.
Dream would probably think about the matter more, because it's something fresh in their friendship, but he already has his hands full trying to figure himself out first.
He continues sitting there on his bed, reading the messages over and over, marveling over his inability to shut the fuck up and pull it back.
If he deleted all his messages now, maybe George would forget about the conversation...
Dream barks out an unamused laugh at his phone as if it was at fault for not censoring him. He spends so much time on the damn thing it should know him better than that by now.
Though the phone would probably be just as surprised as Dream himself is.
He looks at the blank wall to his left, looking for a place where he can become one with his surroundings and just disappear, but even the sand colored surface calls him an idiot.
Even the wall followed his coffee machine's example and spoke tauntingly. Dream can't catch a break even in his own house.
But a break is due, George apparently decides, because he doesn't come back. Dream waits for him for a couple minutes, still blankly staring at nothing, thinking about the same, but he doesn't come.
He doesn't come when Dream walks back to the kitchen to get his coffee, and he's not back when Dream sits down to edit his next video, one without George in it.
Dream doesn't forget it. It sits on his mind as a constant reminder that he isn't the most important thing on George's mind like George is on his.
It was a devastating thought, but not one Dream was scared by. He remembers how breathless George sounded when they spoke, his pauses of hesitation to answer Dream's attempts at unraveling him ever so slightly. He could never forget it if he tried. And if any of that was indication enough, Dream knew George was considering his words. He knew they didn't come in one ear and out the other; George heard him loud and clear, and he was thinking of how to answer.
And despite his contemplation, or because of it, he answered like that. He answered like Dream would.
But speculation isn't nearly enough. Hints and what-ifs are not enough when their friendship is in the crossfire of it all. Addiction to a feeling is not enough to end a friendship over.
He drums his hands on his desk re-watching the 5 minutes of edited content to look for any faults. He forgets about George for a little while, then, managing to focus for the first time in a few days.
It's already dark in his room when Karl messages him on Discord. up for some among us? we need a player, his message reads.
Dream looks out the window in question. How long was he been working for? He looks into his empty cup and empty water bottle. It must've been hours.
And no, Dream is not up for some Among Us-- he'd rather be doing literally anything else. But he still checks out Karl's stream to see who's he playing with, even though it didn't matter, as he's already got a sure add me, typed out and sent.
He knows he'll perform horribly, or at least much worse than he usually would, because he's been in a focused trance for hours and George, or a lack thereof, is back on his mind and is screaming loud.
He was supposed to call back. Why didn't he call back? They were supposed to get on call with Sapnap. Why didn't they?
"Traitor..." Dream breathes out, navigating his dark house to the kitchen to refill his water bottle, hoping to not trip over Patches on his way. He really doesn't want to play with the exhaustion of work and his personal feelings heavy on his shoulders.
By the time he's back to his room, Karl has already sent him all the necessary info, so Dream couldn't back out anymore.
He looks at his microphone to the side, already having decided against streaming. He wouldn't want a recording of him being a mess on his own channel, it's better not to when he's already feeling all types of defeated.
He joins the call and everyone greets him happily. He greets back, just as energetic, though his mind is is still elsewhere. In a call full of people that's buzzing with life and discussion, his mind is still with George.
Maybe George had something important to do and he had to leave quickly? Maybe it was an emergency? Feeling guilty, Dream opens Snapchat and takes a picture of the Among Us lobby and types you okay? you just left suddenly. He sends it to George.
George messages back almost immediately, which tells Dream that he wasn't busy, but either forgot or ignored him, answering with a picture of his dark living room and a TV screen, some movie Dream doesn't recognize on, and the text Something came up. Sorry i couldn't call back on top of it.
Dream's not even sure which one is worse: being forgotten or ignored.
He looks at the words, seriously annoyed. George obviously wasn't busy now, what kept him from getting back at him now?
Dream doesn't bother taking a picture this time, instead opting for a simple message.
call me now
George's avatar appears. You're busy, he answers.
He's right, Dream should be busy, because people keep talking and the game is starting in four seconds, but all he hears is George making up excuses to not talk to to him, so he angrily types back, i'll quit after this game if you call me
And he totally would. The nine people in the call with him didn't matter, though he knows it would be bad manners.
George texts back as soon as the game's started. I'll consider if you send a picture of yourself
Dream gets even more annoyed, but his voice is bright when he says, "Guys, I have to do something. Give me a minute, don't kill me," and Karl swears on his life that he'll protect him.
George doesn't get to be all bold after leaving him alone for hours without a goodbye.
But he will send a picture, because George doesn't get to come out of this without paying.
Dream will rip his heart out himself if he has to.
The picture he takes is not exactly a great one, Dream wouldn't brag about it given the chance, but it should be more than enough to shake up George a little. After all, he doesn't get to see Dream-- any of Dream, often.
The picture is of the bottom left of his face. The outline of his shoulder and the curve of his neck is visible, the bright silver line of his jaw is glowing bright in front of the dark background of his bedroom, the corner of his mouth that's so slightly lifted Dream doesn't even think George will notice is in the upper right corner of the shot.
He sends it without a moment to wait. He doesn't want to wait.
And George doesn't either, because the picture is opened straight away. It's screenshot in a second as well, this time without permission.
Dream smirks. The action is impatient, greedy. He can't keep himself from thinking of the familiar hunger he notices in George. He felt it too when he saw George blush red on stream yesterday; it was such a terrible feeling. His hands were shaking, he feared the sudden unfamiliarity of it. That was the beginning of him trying to pull George down with him.
He doesn't point out George's impatient picture saving. It wasn't all too surprising, he said it himself that he'll be saving all pictures of Dream. And he can't be calling George desperate now when he's still unstable in his footing, when he still chooses to back away and release when they play their twisted game of tug.
Instead, he texts, now call me
George answers. You're literally in a call with other people it would be rude to leave after one game. Just play and stop being clingy
Dream is betrayed for the nth time today.
After George's final message, Win for me, comes, Dream sighs into his microphone. "I'm back!" He tells Karl, who's been standing on top of him the entire time.
Dream's head still spins. George had reasons to leave him alone, he had reasons not to include him in the call with Sapnap, if there even was one, and he had reasons to not want to talk to him now. He wouldn't do something like that without a reason.
But he still answered him. He still flirted back without any witnesses: he would've gotten away without upholding his end of the bet, Dream would've let him after yesterday's apology. And he still saved Dream's picture.
Dream is desperate enough to place meaning and reason behind those actions. Those actions make Dream see similarities between them two. They make him hopeful.
And for now, that's enough.
For now, that's everything.