Chapter Text
Dream’s eyes had been drawn to him the moment he entered the party.
Soft eyes and shy smile, a pair of dorky white-rimmed sunglasses perched on his perfect forehead, nestled between strands of inky-brown hair. Dream didn’t even try to hide his gaze, watching intently as the boy slowly raked his gaze past the party’s attendants until their eyes met. The reaction was instantaneous: his cheeks were dusted pink and, mouth slightly parted, he had quickly averted his eyes, looking embarrassed. Dream, pleased by the reaction, leans back against a wall and innocently sips from his red cup.
The guy looks a little out of place in this type of crowd, his long-sleeved sweatshirt a stark contrast to all the half-naked bodies around him. Dream watches in bemusement as Sapnap tugs him through the crowd, his friend’s eyes lighting up upon seeing Dream.
“Yo Dream, there you are!”
“Hey Sapnap,” Dream greets, giving a half-wave. “This the friend you said you were bringing?”
“The one and only,” Sapnap snickers, shoving the flustered boy forwards. “Dream, meet George. George, say hi to Dream.”
“H-hi,” George obediently stumbles, his eyes large and fascinated as they dart around Dream’s features.
“You like what you see?” Dream teases, and pride glows in his chest when he sees how quickly George’s face blossoms pink.
“U-Uhm…?” George stutters, looking almost guilty, but Dream just laughs good-naturedly.
“I’m just messing with you,” Dream grins, offering a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Sapnap's friend.”
“Oh, uh,” George accepts the handshake. His fingers are long and slender, a tiny fit in Dream’s much larger one. He has perfect nails — nice looking ones. “Nice to meet you too.”
“I’ll leave you two to get to know each other. Can you point me to the drinks?” Dream jabs a thumb behind him and Sapnap nods, already flying to the kitchen. “Thanks, Dream!”
“So,” Dream starts, swirling the alcohol inside his cup.
“So,” George echoes awkwardly back, and Dream smiles.
“You’re a computer science major, huh?”
“Oh. Yeah,” George confirms, nodding his head. He seems to be very pointedly refusing to look at Dream’s face, which Dream finds endearing as fuck. “How’d you know?”
“Sapnap told me,” Dream answers, secretly fascinated with the rapid rate in which George’s ears were turning red.
“O-oh. Right.”
“To be fair, he didn’t tell me it was you directly. Just that he had a friend majoring in it. I only connected the dots,” Dream explains, shrugging.
“Ah,” George replies, eyes pointed towards his awkwardly shuffling feet. “Right. Um, that’s me, yep. The nerdy guy that likes lame computer stuff, haha.”
Dream raises his eyebrows. “Lame?” he echoes.
“Um,” George slightly raises his head. “Yeah?”
“Dude,” Dream gives a soft wheeze, “Smart people take computer science, George. It’s not lame. Far from it.”
George blinks up at Dream, appearing mildly surprised. “I… oh.”
“Do people not normally tell you that?” Dream huffs, draining the rest of his cup. “You look surprised.”
“Um, well, Sapnap says that too,” George mumbles, fiddling with his hoodie strings. Cute, Dream thinks. “But I always thought he was just being nice.”
“Nice? ” Dream mock coughs, laughing through his sputter, “Are we talking about the same Sapnap here?”
George giggles with him. “Alright, fair point.”
Dream shifts a little closer so that their arms are touching. George doesn’t move away. “Hey.”
“Wh-what?” George stammers, but his accent makes it come out sounding more like a “whut.” Dream is hopelessly enamored.
“Do you—”
“So, how’ve my best pals been getting along?!” Sapnap interrupts them, popping out literally from nowhere, slinging his arms across both of their shoulders. His movements are already sluggish, but his form is brimming with energy.
Dream chuckles. “Sap, are you drunk already?”
“...no.”
George gives an exasperated sigh. “You only left for like, five minutes, and you’re already going crazy.”
“I am not,” Sapnap refutes, very non-believably. “You’re the one that needs to loosen up, George. C’mon!” And with a yelp, George is promptly dragged away to the kitchen. Dream only laughs but doesn’t follow, heading away to the dance floor. He’s pretty sure he’ll be seeing them later.
Sure enough, not even an hour later, Sapnap is doing cartwheels around the living room and riling up quite a crowd for himself. George, on the other hand, is half-knocked out on a couch — a total lightweight. The sight is too funny not to interfere, so Dream makes a direct beeline over.
“Not gonna join your friend?” Dream jokes, poking the side of George’s face, and he only groans, fluttering his eyelids. Dream thinks his heart flutters a little too.
“I hate parties,” is what he mumbles instead, and Dream gives a gentle wheeze.
“The alcohol not doing it for you?”
“No,” George admits, shutting his eyes tightly closed. His words are slurring a bit. “No, ‘s not.”
Dream hums in response. “Then why’d you drink so much?”
George drapes his arm over his eyes, looking embarrassed. “...thought it was orange juice.”
Dream cackles at the answer. George doesn’t look amused. “Anything I can do to make it better?” Dream asks. Like maybe kiss you?
“Get me a glass of water?”
Huh. Not quite what Dream had in mind, but. “Alright,” he relents. “Water coming right up, prince charming.”
Dream has to push past a few too many horny guests before he can finally get his hands on a glass. By the time he’s returned with the water, George is already fast asleep. And Dream may have stared a second too long, stuck admiring his pretty eyelashes and parted, pink lips.
“Are you checking him out or…?”
Dream rolls his eyes. “Just worried, is all. This is his first time at a party, right? Shouldn’t you be keeping an eye on him?”
Sapnap just smirks. “But I think you’re doing a pretty good job at that for me.”
Dream elbows his friend in the side. “Shut up.” A pause. “Do you know how George’s planning on getting back to his place?”
Sapnap smugly wiggles his eyebrows at the question, and it isn’t until Dream gently smacks him that he answers. “Uh, we and a couple others are gonna hitch a ride back with a sober friend. We’re planning on staying here a bit longer though.”
Dream sighs. “He’s totally clocked out, Sap. I don’t think he should stay here any longer — I’ll take him home.”
“Oh.” Sapnap blinks slowly, like he’s processing Dream suggestion. “You sure? You don’t have to, I was just kidding about you looking out for him.”
“Yeah, I think I’m gonna crash for today too, so I might as well.”
Sapnap narrows his eyes. “Didn’t I see you drinking today?”
“It wasn’t a lot. Just a cup.”
“...okay,” a shrug, and Sapnap’s pulling out his phone. ”If you’re sure. I’ll text you his address.”
And that’s how Dream ended up lugging George all the way to his car and back to his apartment. The ride is silent, save for George’s quiet breathing. After parking the vehicle, Dream shakes him awake.
“Huh…?” George blinks, looking drowsy. His sleepy-face makes Dream’s insides flutter with adoration.
“Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.”
George rubs his eyes. “Where are we?”
“Back at your apartment complex,” Dream answers. “You’re gonna need to unlock your own door, though.”
George’s eyes widen. “Did you... drive me back?”
“Yeah.”
“Does Sapnap…?”
“He knows,” Dream confirms. “Don’t worry.”
Dream helps George out of the car and walks him up to the door. “...thanks,” George mumbles, though it’s barely discernible. His cheeks are still pink, but Dream isn’t sure whether it’s from being drunk or from the biting cold.
“No problem,” Dream replies, “Just go easy on the alcohol next time.”
George doesn’t enter his apartment straight away. “...the water.”
“What?”
“The water,” George repeats. “You never gave it to me.”
“Oh my god,” Dream sputters in disbelief before launching into laughter. “You’re bringing this up now?!”
“The water,” George repeats, sounding so oddly serious that Dream only laughs harder.
“Maybe next time,” Dream compromises, heart squeezing with fondness. “Next time we see each other, I’ll get you that water, okay?”
“You… you promise?”
“Yes, I promise,” Dream chuckles. “Now get inside before you catch a cold, you idiot.”
“Thought you didn’t like parties?”
“I don’t,” George confirms, meekly sipping from a red cup. Thankfully, he appears to be keeping control over how much he’s consuming this time.
“Then what brings you here again? I don’t see Sapnap anywhere.”
George obviously came on his own. He’s wearing the same thing as last time, still sticking out like a sore thumb among these delinquents and drunksters. Loud music is blaring in the background and Dream doesn’t recognize it, but it makes the energy under his skin hum. He doesn’t think he can hold himself back much longer, not when George is standing this close to him.
George visibly swallows. “My water,” he answers.
Dream gives a disbelieving smile. “You’re joking.”
“If I don’t see you again, how am I supposed to get my water?”
“You are so dumb,” Dream wheezes. “You don’t have to meet me only at parties, we could’ve met somewhere outside of these situations.”
“But,” George pouts and Dream thinks his heart melts a little, “I don’t have your number.”
Hm. “Sapnap does though?”
“I don’t wanna ask him,” George replies petulantly, and Dream realizes George hasn’t looked his way even once. He was starting to miss the sight of those cocoa eyes.
“Why?”
“I just… don’t.”
A beat of silence, where Dream considers whether or not he should bring it up. “Hey,” he starts, softens his voice. “Why won’t you look at me?”
At the prompt, George looks. But almost immediately, a flustered expression falls over his expression. “I— um.” He nervously bites his lip. Dream wants to bite it too. “I dunno?”
Dream innocently tilts his head. “Come on, no need to be shy. Is it something on my face?” Dream uses his free hand to wipe across his mouth to fully play into the act. “That’s it, right?”
“N-no!” George adamantly denies, shaking his head. “Er, you’re just, uh…” he mutters the rest of his sentence.
“Hm? Sorry, what was that?”
“...very handsome,” George repeats, his face the color of a bright tomato, and Dream beams.
“Thank you,” he grins, and feeling weirdly brave, he uses a finger to tilt George’s chin upwards. “You’re quite pretty yourself.”
George’s jaw drops open, eyes blinking in shock. “Dream,” he starts.
“Hm?” Dream murmurs, eyes hungrily tracing George’s jawline. They’re so close to each other, Dream would only need to move forward an inch to press their bodies together.
George sets his cup down, his eyes smoldering. “...You do have something on your face.”
“What?”
Before Dream can register the words, George has leaned forwards and pressed a chaste kiss to Dream’s cheek. Dream’s heart thuds in his ribcage, thrumming with awe.
“It’s gone now,” George grins, his cheeks glowing with pride.
Dream places a hand on his own cheek. “Wow.” Raises an eyebrow, and smiles. “I think I’m in love with you.”
George snorts at Dream’s statement. “Sure you are.”
“No, really!” Dream grabs both of George’s hands in his, bending down so that they’re nearly face to face. “You’ve stolen my heart, Georgie.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Maybe if you give me my heart back.”
George giggles. “Make me.”
And Dream presses forward, pushing their lips together, and George melts underneath him. They move in sync, Dream’s hands roaming around George’s sides, the heat from their bodies mixing until they were one. Dream elicits a whine from George’s throat when he bites his lower lip, and his insides hum with satisfaction. When they pull apart, they’re both gasping for breath. “Good enough for you?” Dream manages.
George looks dazed, but he still has the audacity to shake his head. “I want to return it even less.”
“Wow. I feel cheated.”
“You’re shit at making deals, what can I say?”
“So you’re telling me kissing isn't the way to go,” Dream teases. “Shocker.”
“Maybe,” George hums, drawing their faces close again. It makes the embers inside Dream light up with desire. “Maybe… if you give me your number.”
“Smooth, George,” Dream laughs, “Real smooth.”
“Thank you. Now hand it over please.”
“You’re ridiculous,” Dream snickers, but he does as George asks. This night was beginning to turn out better than he ever would’ve imagined. “There. Is this trade satisfactory for you now?”
George’s fists cling to the front of Dream’s shirt. Dream wonders if George can feel his thudding heartbeat through his chest. “Hmm, I dunno. I feel like something more is missing…”
Dream patiently threads his fingers through the hairs on George’s nape. “Whatever is it that you desire, Georgie~?”
“I desire you to stop calling me that.”
Dream snickers. “Sorry, no can do.”
Their faces are drawn closer, George’s breath brushing against Dream’s lips. “...what if I desire you to keep kissing me?”
Dream grins. “Now that one I can follow.”
『 Georgie 』
you still never gave me that water
『 Dream 』
WOW
you’re such an idiot
『 Georgie 』
you owe me
『 Dream 』
let’s at least agree not to meet up at a party again lmao
『 Georgie 』
agreed
『 Dream 』
I know a place. pretty good restaurant.
Wanna go?
『 Georgie 』
tmrw?
『 Dream 』
sure
『 Georgie 』
..is this a date?
『 Dream 』
if you want it to be (;
『 Georgie 』
you’re so dumb
『 Dream 』
says the guy who keeps asking me for
water when he’s not even drunk anymore
『 Georgie 』
I’m always drunk when I’m around you
『 Dream 』
...
you’re too much
『 Georgie 』
you love me anyway :)
“Wow,” George giggles, “Such a gentleman.”
“Yep,” Dream agrees, holding the door open to their luncheon destination. “That’s me. Best boyfriend material.”
The two keep playfully shoving each other until they grab seats near the edge of the cafe restaurant, sitting across from one another. Everything was perfect: the calm air, the hazy orange appearance of the atmosphere, the sunlight filtering through the blinds. It was Dream’s favorite place for a reason.
Dream very dramatically slides his glass of water to George’s end of the table. “Your precious water, Mr. Drunkard.”
George snorts, flipping through pages on the menu. “Yeah, yeah,” he mutters in embarrassment, then quickly tries to change the topic. “What should I get?”
Dream wants to keep teasing him, but he eventually decides to just let him off easy. “Just grab anything.”
“I’ve never been here before,” George whines, “I don’t know what’s good.”
“Everything’s good,” Dream huffs, amused by George’s indecisive nature. “That’s why I brought us here.”
“Then…” George screws his eyes at the menu, lips pouted in thought, “...I’ll take the blueberry waffles.”
“George,” Dream laughs, “We’re not eating breakfast.”
“So? You said everything here’s good.”
A chuckle later and Dream nods. “Fine, fine… I’ll get the avocado toast then.”
“Also a breakfast item,” George notes pointedly.
“I’m keeping with the theme here,” Dream retorts. They place their orders and promptly start having a miniature feet-tousle underneath the table. Dream was winning — he had one of George’s feet securely trapped against the table leg — when the doors to the restaurant suddenly swing open with a bang.
A tall man and woman stand at the entrance, shades covering their eyes, guns perched in their hands. “Everyone down!” The man hollers. “This is a robbery!”
“What?” George blinks, looking frozen. “What’s going on?”
“Shit,” Dream grimaces, grabbing George’s hand from across the table. “Just sit still.”
“Dream—”
“All of you be quiet!” The woman shouts. “If I hear another peep out of any of you, you’re getting a bullet through your head.”
Dream squeezes George’s hand, hoping to convey reassurance. Everyone in the restaurant watches in terrified silence, families huddled together in fear as the two individuals march to the cashier, guns pointed threateningly at the employees.
“Dream,” George whispers, his voice shaking, “I-I’m scared…”
“Shhh,” Dream whispers back, “It’s okay. You’re okay—”
“I said NO talking!” The woman whips her head around to the two of them, glaring daggers. “Another word out of you, and I’ll point this gun at your head, understand?!” George starts shaking harder. Dream clasps both of their hands together, nods feebly to indicate that he does.
But then, the worst possible thing had to happen. A ringtone starts to play, and Dream faintly recognizes it as the song that had been playing when he and George kissed for the first time. He’s half honored, half horrified — because the lady with the pistol has started to turn her weapon towards them.
“Decline it,” she commands, “Or I’ll shoot you right now.”
George lets go of Dream’s hands, fumbles for his phone, his fingers shaking, and that’s when Dream feels it. Feels that something is about to go terribly, terribly wrong.
Everything seems to happen in slow motion: George misclicks, tapping the answer button. Mortification swallows George’s expression as Sapnap's voice comes out from the phone: “Hey, what’s up—”
The sound of a gunshot. Screams ring out. The phone goes skidding out of George’s hand, glass shards go flying, and blood. So much blood. Dream inhales, scrambling across the table, fingers fumbling over fabric. Fuck. George was shot. George was shot and he’s bleeding and he’s not gonna make it out alive—
“Stop moving,” the murderer behind him commands, “Or you’re gonna join him.”
“G-George,” Dream chokes out, desperately trying to stop the bleeding, “P-please, I have to get him to a hospital, he’s gonna die—”
“I said to SHUT UP.”
“Dream,” George whispers, so faintly that he almost doesn’t hear it. It’s only barely louder than the sound of his heartbeat, quietly diminishing right under Dream’s fingertips. “Shh.”
“No. No George, you can’t. You’re going to die, you can’t… you can’t do this—”
“I warned you,” the woman huffs grimly, and at the sound of the second gunshot, Dream’s world goes black.