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“It’s not going to work with you two doing it,” Sapnap mutters. He sounds tired, frustrated.
George gets it, he’s tired too, tired, and frustrated, and all he wants to do is end the call and curl up into a ball and cry. But he doesn’t. Because he knows that will worry Dream and Sapnap; and Sapnap has barely been home for a few weeks after coming to see him, he doesn’t need to worry him into making another visit. The letter sits open on his desk in front of him. He’d wanted to joke. At least it’s not another processing letter. His application had sat in limbo for so long he’s not really all that surprised at this point to see the denial sitting in front of him. Unsurprised, but incredibly disappointed—though, disappointed doesn’t quite read the exact emotions running through him. Devastated is probably more accurate. After so long sitting in limbo for it to just come up as ineligible.
“Why not?” Dream asks, letting out a small huff of defiance at Sapnap’s statement.
George had suggested it as a joke, a sort of way to ignore the unsettled feeling in his stomach at the idea of the waiver being denied. A half-hearted sort of, ‘I mean maybe if we fake a relationship it’ll be fast tracked approval’. But then Dream had sounded so sincere in his response, and even Sapnap seemed to be considering it a possibility.
“Outside of the fact that you have joked that you would do exactly that to get George into the country if you had to?” Sapnap scoffs, sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Or maybe the fact you’ve stated in multiple tweets and your boundaries that you two are not dating and have no plans to?”
Dream hums in acknowledgement to the statement, he sounds almost like he wants to argue Sapnap’s point, but the call falls silent.
“So who do you propose I fake a relationship with then? You?” It’s teasing, he loves Sapnap, he does, but neither of them would be able to be serious enough to fake a relationship in the governments face.
“God no,” Sapnap laughs, and George can practically see his expression on the other end of the call. A silence settles for a moment while they all think on the situation, and then Sapnap speaks again.
“Karl and I were talking about it when he was in Florida in December. I think you’d called earlier that day and he asked if we had a plan for if your VISA was denied. It had been a joke, just like what you just said now. I mean I guess the fake relationship is always an option,” he huffs out something between a laugh and a scoff. “What if you and Karl faked one? You’re close enough you can get away with it. You’ve never hinted at faking a relationship before. I’m sure there are some fans that are into you enough to have made convincing tweets about some of your interactions…”
George wants to turn his nose up at the idea. He hadn’t even been serious about the whole idea of it to begin with but as it lingers on his mind he can’t help but think about the what if’s.
“It could work,” he finally agrees, “Not sure how I feel about breaking the law but…it’s an option to get me there.”
“It’s an option,” Dream agrees, “Is it one that you want though? Is it one that Karl wants?”
“Guess that’s something we have to add Karl to the call to find out.”
“I’ll message him, see if he’s free to join,” Sapnap says, and the call goes quiet again as he messages their friend. A minute passes, and then another before the chime of another person being added to the call sounds. The dial tone doesn’t even sound before Karl’s voice is breaking through.
“You wanna marry me, George?”
It’s teasing, and light, and just the kind of tone George needed to hear after how tense he’d been feeling since reading the letter. He could always count on Karl to make a shitty situation feel less shitty, it was one of the things he appreciated most about him.
“Not really but I can’t marry Dream because he’s a loud mouth and the thought of marrying Sapnap makes my skin crawl,” George jokes lightly, barely biting his tongue long enough for his friends to react before he’s bursting into loud laughter.
**** *** ***
It’s dark out by the time they arrive at Karl’s house, having not left Florida until after lunch. The past two weeks with all of their friends had been a whirlwind of emotions, and it had been easy to forget the reason behind George finally making his way to the states. But now as it’s just the two of them, entering Karl’s house, the lie that could determine the rest of their lives feels casts more than a little shadow on George’s mind.
The buzz of electricity sounds above them, the front hall flickering to life Karl hits the light switch, and George hovers behind while his friend enters the house, kicking off his shoes by the door. “Welcome home.”
George’s teeth sink into his lower lip, eyes darting around the house before he takes the first step over the threshold. Home. When thinking about moving to America, the idea of home had always resided with Dream and Sapnap. Hell, they had a house under all of their names back in Florida. Never in a million years had he considered Karl’s house on a lot with the rest of the Mr Beast crew in North Carolina to take the title. It’s daunting.
“Hey,” Karl’s voice is soft, and it pulls George from his thoughts. Grey eyes meet brown and for a second they just watch one another. “You okay?”
George nods hesitantly, “Just tired,” it’s an easy lie—and honestly, it can hardly be considered a lie. He’s exhausted. The drive, despite him not being the person behind the wheel, had been a long dragged out ten hours and his mind had been racing the whole time on the what-ifs of the actual lie they were about to tell.
Karl give him a knowing look and reaches to take the handle of his suitcase, “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”
“You mean Sapnap’s room,” George counters light-heartedly. The ringing sound of their best friends voice echoes through his mind, a final goodbye ending with and don’t do anything to mess up my room while you’re staying there.
“There’s a TV in here, it works with all channels and there’s a console you can use if you want. And uh…” The room is large, as big as the living space in George’s flat in London, there’s a single dresser on the entry wall and a matching cabinet at the bedside, “…and that’s Sapnap’s backpack he left here, and I am keeping until he comes back…”
Karl continues walking him through the room, and George is sure what he’s saying is important, but the bed—donned in blue sheets, both light and dark—looks so welcoming and he can’t help but to fall into it.
It’s a full minute before Karl goes quiet, and George peers up at him through tired eyes. There’s something soft on his friends face that passes the moment their eyes meet.
“I’ll let you get some sleep. If I’m not up when you wake just bang on my door or something, okay?”
George nods, there’s an apology on his lips, but he doesn’t get to voice it.
“Goodnight George, love you,” Karl’s voice is soft, and he turns off the light on his way out of the room.
***
“Let me see, let me see,” Karl’s fingers wrap around George’s before he can protest the action, carefully lifting them up to the light so he can check them over.
His nails are painted messily in black polish that doesn’t quite coat the entirety of some nails and spreads onto his fingers in other places. The result of being left alone in the house he was calling home while Karl went to get some filming done for Mr Beast.
“It’s a good thing you didn’t pursue a career as a nail technician,” Karl muses, and George wants to argue the teasing, but Karl is right, it’s a good thing he didn’t. “If you wanted your nails done you could’ve asked, I would’ve been happy to do them for you.”
George watches as Karl smooths his thumb over the length of his fingers, twisting them this way and that to check the damage done.
“I hadn’t even intended to paint them myself,” He shrugs, letting out a slow breath he hadn’t even realised he was holding in. Karl was always touching him, and with each day the ease in which he did it made George’s heart pound a little louder in his chest. He wasn’t even sure why; it certainly wasn’t because he didn’t like it…maybe just because he wasn’t used to it. “I was just looking for something to do, Dream’s visiting his mum and Sapnap was live playing Valorant, so I didn’t have any way to entertain myself. Found this polish in the cabinet under my sink.”
“Let me get my remover,” Karl pats the back of George’s hand, dropping his hold. “And I can repaint them for you—if you’d like?”
George nods hesitantly, looking down at his hands and then back up at Karl, “Please.”
“You have nice nails,” Karl murmurs, disposing of the last cotton pad from cleaning before picking up the black polish. “You have nice hands though, in general.”
“What does that even mean?” George muses, looking at his hands a moment. They’re nothing special to him, a bit wiry—quite pale, though that didn’t really differentiate from any other part of his body.
“I don’t know, they’re clean, a nice shape,” Karl catches his eye briefly before looking back down to his hand to begin painting his nails. “You don’t have any dry skin around them or…”
George presses his lips together as Karl continues to talk about his hands and nails, choosing not to question the thoughts that roam his friends mind. A few minutes pass before the room falls into a comfortable silence, Karl’s attention locking in on his nails, while George just watches. His brows are knitted together in concentration and every now and then he pokes his tongue out, head tilting like somewhat of a lost puppy.
“You’re cute,” George finds himself breathing out. He stills, and Karl’s gaze darts up to him in shock at the statement. George parts his lips to say something and then thinks better of trying to talk his way out of it, glancing away from Karl’s wide eyed wonder.
“You think I’m cute,” Karl finally manages out, there’s teasing in his tone, but for the most part it’s just surprised awe. George risks a quick glance at him, catching the way Karl composes his expression, replacing it with an almost cocky grin, “George, you love me. You think I’m cute.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to, I can read between the lines with you,” Karl nods decisively, capping the polish and holding George’s hands out flat for him to see. “You love me the same as I love you.”
“All I said was that you’re cute,” George pauses his protests, looking down at his nails. They look good, the black is a dark contrast against his pale skin, and he flexes his fingers to watch the gloss catch in the light.
“You know you’re going to have to say I love you to me at some point if we want this to be convincing,” Karl breathes out, his gaze on George softens, like he’s easing him into the information.
He twists his face in discomfort, it’s not that he doesn’t love Karl, he’s one of his closest friends. He wouldn’t have agreed to this whole fake relationship ploy if he didn’t. But saying the words, expressing it aloud like that sends an unsettling feeling through him, “But I don’t have to say it now. Nobody is here to prove it to. Can’t we just keep…not being a couple?”
“If you don’t want to be a couple that’s fine. Just tell me and we scrap this whole thing,” an amused glint passes through Karl’s gaze and George has to struggle not to roll his eyes at him. They both know he’s not going to change his mind on it. He’s desperate. And if it means faking a relationship and marrying one of his best friends at this point then so be it. The past two years of waiting only to be turned down had been hell and he’s not sure he’ll make it through that again. Karl hums a small nod, “That’s what I thought. George the only people who know this is fake other than the two of us is Dream, Sapnap, and Alex. We had the call with your parents, and we had the call with my parents—who are coming to meet you in a couple weeks—and now we’re a couple. We can’t just ignore it when we’re alone. We have to make everything convincing.”
George tilts his head towards the ceiling, drawing a deep breath before nodding, “That still doesn’t mean I have to say that to you when we’re alone.”
“No, it doesn’t,” Karl agrees, nudging his shoulder lightly, “But it might make it sound more natural when you do have to.”
George scrunches his nose a little but says nothing, dragging his gaze off Karl. It had been a hard call, to lie to his parents about their relationship. He was sure Karl had felt the same. Family who had always thought you were straight suddenly finding out you’d been secretly seeing one of your friends romantically for almost a year. That was the lie they were telling. It would be a year part way into his trip and that’s why they’d decided he would just go to the States. Because it had been too long of waiting for his VISA and they wanted to celebrate their anniversary together. That it would be easier to out themselves to their fans if they were together in person than it might have been otherwise. That they hadn’t wanted to use their relationship to get his VISA because it had been so fresh, and he’d been wanting to get his VISA prior to it starting but now desperate times. They wanted to experience one another. As a couple.
–And on top of that, the more they looked into the process the more they realised that getting a fiancé visa was hard.
Karl’s hand slides into his own, fingers threading between one another with ease. That had been a transition, getting used to having someone who would touch him without a second thought. Even when Sapnap and Quackity had visited him, while they pestered him, it was rare for them to be affectionately touchy with him. He understood it was on him, he was standoffish and awkward, not used to having people around. But he definitely liked the way Karl didn’t shy away when he tensed up the first few times they hugged or when he landed an exaggerated kiss on his cheek. The hand holding hadn’t come until after they’d left their friends behind in Florida. This was only the third time Karl had taken his hand, slotting their fingers together like they were meant to be that way. He wasn’t sure if it brought more comfort to him or Karl, but he was grateful for it either way. A welcome distraction amidst the stressed chaos of his own thoughts.
“I know that your love language isn’t really Words of Affirmation. That saying you love the people you love isn’t something you’re used to or particularly comfortable with,” Karl sighs. His thumb sooths a gentle pressure into the back of George’s hand and he glances at his friend once more. “And trust me, being in a ‘relationship’ with you is just as weird for me as it is for you. But eventually we’re going to have to make this lie convincing, for fans, friends, and eventually the government. So when you’re ready, let me know. I’ll guide you through it. I love you, George. You’re my friend.”
There’s something in the way Karl’s voice softens at the end that makes George almost want to try the words. But the lingering fear as the knowledge they’d be outing their ‘relationship’ to the fans any day now send nervous shivers down his spine and he tucked his face into the younger man’s shoulder to hide away from that fact instead.
***
George sighs, throwing his head back in silent frustration before dropping it forward to look over their VISA application again. It wasn’t their first sit-down with the information, having looked at their options multiple times even before George had arrived in the States. No matter what path they took it was going to take time, and even now George had days where he wasn’t entirely sure that they were making the right decision with applying for a fiancé visa. But at least they had time, they wouldn’t submit their application until towards the end of his three months here, it would give them more time to sell their lie online.
“What’s wrong?” Karl’s head drops like a dead weight into his shoulder and George looks down at the younger man, frowning when he catches him squinting towards the screen.
“Where are your glasses?”
Karl presses his lips together, “I don’t know. Maybe in my bedroom?”
George eases from underneath Karl’s weight, patting his shoulder when he makes a sound of protest before disappearing to the bedroom to find the aforementioned glasses. He returns a couple minutes later, waving the thin gold frames in the air. He sees Karl’s expression shift but doesn’t bring it up, knowing well enough his friend would speak his mind if he felt the need.
George carefully slides the glasses onto Karl’s face, pulling a curl that catches under the frame out and fixing it. He can feel Karl’s gaze on him, but doesn’t dare meet it, suddenly hyper-aware as he twists the loose curl around his fingertip and sets it into place how intimate an action it had been.
“Wow,” Karl breathes out, and George caves, dropping brown eyes down to meet grey. “Now I can see you clearly, you’re kinda ugly.”
George scoffs out a laugh, flicking Karl lightly on the forehead, glad for the diversion as he returns to his seat beside him at the desk, “You’re the worst.”
Karl cackles with laughter, throwing his head back before dropping it back into George’s shoulder with an audible thud. Both their bodies shake with the force of Karl’s laughter and George is almost tempted to push his chair over.
“Dick.”
“But a cute dick, remember,” Karl muses, sobering himself as he sits upright again.
“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” George rolls his eyes in faux annoyance, twisting towards the monitor in front of them.
“Not until you tell me you love me. Because then I’ll tease you for that instead,” Karl follows George’s gaze to the PC, leaning a little closer to him. “We’re not even submitting this application yet, why are you stressing over it again.”
“I’m just,” George throws his hands in a half-hearted attempt to pull his excuse from the air. “If we fuck this up. If something happens and they find out we’re faking it and then I can just never come here even to visit or, or…”
“Hey,” Karl reaches for his hands, pulling them down and tugging George until the chair twists to face him. “Stop. First of all, stop. Breathe.”
George narrows his eyes, taking a shaky breath.
“They’re not going to find out.”
“You don’t know that.” George protests stubbornly.
“No, but you don’t know that they will,” Karl shrugs, squeezing his fingers lightly before twisting their hands around to lace their fingers together. “We have time to work out the kinks.”
***
He can feel Karl’s eyes on him, lingering while they move about the recording room making it a comfortable space for what they’re about to do. He’s not sure who had come up with the idea to swap out the office chares for a loveseat, maybe Dream had made the comment as a joke while they were sitting in the living space in their home in Florida. But they’d had a new blue one delivered late the previous evening and were now working to get the camera angles right so they could sit on it while recording their first public stream as a ‘couple’.
“What? Why are you looking at me?” he finally huffs, straightening up from where he’d been shuffling the sofa to the best of his ability to align with the camera.
A small smile forms on Karl’s lips that then spreads into a teasing grin, “Is that my sweater?”
George glances down at the jumper he’d thrown on after his shower. It was a reasonably cool day despite the early summer season, and most his warmer clothes were in Florida or back in his London flat. It’s some dark shade of red as far as he can tell, with blue or black sleeves and a matching logo on the front that reads Pebble Beach. He nods slowly, not having checked with Karl before stealing the clothes from his closet.
“Do you mind that I’ve borrowed it?” he asks, flopping the sleeves forward until they engulf his fingers, arms wrapping around himself for some self-soothing comfort now he’s been exposed.
Karl shakes his head, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth briefly as he takes in the jumper and then George’s face. “I don’t mind. Might help sell the relationship a bit too. I’ve worn that one a lot while live.”
George hadn’t even considered it helping sell their lie but gives his own nod of agreement at Karl’s suggestion. He glances at the screen reflecting their bodies and the love-seat back at him and lets out a small sigh. It’s as good as it’s going to get, and at this point they’ve probably just been shuffling it back and forth the avoid starting the impending stream.
“I think we need to start.”
George opens his phone, linking his twitch account to a new tweet while Karl presses go live, the Dream Team fanart he’d recently adopted as a starting soon screen flashing to life as one of Karl’s playlists starts up in the background. He catches his friends gaze, moving the mouse and makeshift pad to the arm of the chair so they can control it.
“You ready?” he asks quietly.
Karl shrugs, looking nervous for the first time since they’d sat down and told their families they were dating. George is sure his own expression mirrors him.
He settles the headphones over his ears, glancing as the number of viewers rises. He’d announced todays stream earlier in the week. It was his second stream in America, the first stream having been with 5/5 when they were together in Florida. At the time he’d warned the fans there wouldn’t be streams for a few weeks because he wanted to just get to spend some time with his friends, so when he’d announced todays stream, a Just Chatting stream with Karl, the viewers had burst to life with excitement of what kind of IRL mischief they might get up to. He’s not sure any of them were ready for the conversation what was about to take place.
“Hello?” he clears his throat as Karl settles into the loveseat beside him. The chat bar, already moving at the speed of light with excited viewers, speeds up, a slew of HI’s and HELLO’s mixing through the resubs and gifts that begin to come through. “Hi everyone. Thank you for the subs. Hello.”
“Hi chat!” Karl pipes up beside him. There’s an immediate shift in his tone from prior to pressing the live button, he does it too—they all do. The exaggerated energy for the sake of the viewers, excitement even when you’re not feeling it 100%.
George hesitates, glancing at Karl before reaching his free hand out to lace their fingers together. He sees the surprise flash through Karl’s expression at the initiation of contact, but despite it their palms press flush against one another, and Karl shifts just a little closer to him.
George turns off the starting soon screen and their mirrored images reflect back at them.
“Hi chat hi! I’m in North Carolina, I’m at Karl’s house, look,” he squeezes Karl’s fingers before releasing his hand, instead draping his arm across the back of the sofa behind his shoulders. He can feel Karl watching him, but keeps his eyes on the moving chat, unsure if he could hold together his nerves if he met his friends eye.
A few people comment on the action—a lot of people comment on the action—questioning remarks at George’s ease in displaying some form of affection on camera, teasing comments about Karl rubbing off on him. As much as he’d like to deny them, they’re probably right. He can’t see himself have been sitting so comfortably with his arm draped around someone’s shoulder prior to this trip, fake relationship or not.
“I know, I know,” George grins, sliding his hand down so he can rest it on Karl’s shoulder, tugging him in a little. His heart is beating loudly in his chest, pulsing thuds silencing any other sound and he wonders if Karl can hear it. “I know, I’m being affectionate it’s so weird of me, so different.”
He feels Karl shaking with silent laughter beside him and finally braves a look over at his friend. Karl is covering his mouth with his hand, gaze flickering between George and the monitors. His cheeks are flushed a soft shade of pink that he’s doing his best to cover with his hand.
“George is very touchy off camera,” Karl grins, it’s only half a lie. George will let other people be touchy off camera, he’s not necessarily the one to initiate it. “He’s worse than me, he is.”
“Nobody is worse than you,” George scoffs, looking back towards the moving chat box. He clicks his tongue, skimming through the messages he can see. “People want to know why you have a sofa in your recording room.”
“It’s so we can do this easier,” Karl grins, twisting around, tucking his feet up into the space beside him as he curls into George’s side. And this is it, this is where they cross that line of no return with their fans. “And so I can do this.”
There’s a pause, like Karl is contemplating the action before George feels the careful press of his lips against his cheek, just barely off the corner of his mouth. He feels his face heat up, the corners of his mouth dipping into his cheeks as an easy smile forms. It’s more gentle than any other kisses that have landed on his cheeks or forehead over the course of the past few weeks, careful and calculated as if to make sure it looks genuine.
George turns his face a little towards him, it’s surprisingly easy to play up the affection, despite the climbing number of viewers as people no-doubt post on twitter about the way they’re cuddled up with one another.
“So as you can see, I’m at Karl’s house,” George repeats his earlier comment, shifting as he feels Karl’s head drop to a place of comfort on his shoulder.
“And uhm…” His eyes wander to the image on screen of them, him in Karl’s jumper, Karl curled up beside him on the loveseat with his head tucked into his side, his own arm draped loose and comfortable across his shoulder. If he didn’t know better he wouldn’t blink twice. They look like a happy couple, maybe earlier in their relationship, but nonetheless, a couple. His stomach twists with something he can’t quite identify, and his mouth runs dry, unable to continue the rehearsed speech about their relationship.
“George and I are dating,” Karl covers for his hesitation, reaching his hand up to squeeze George’s where it still rests on his shoulder, and George can’t help but to thread their fingers together the moment they make contact. “We’ve been together almost a year now and we decided that it was time we let you in on that piece of our lives. So I guess…if you guys have any questions you can go ahead and ask them, we’ll try our best to answer them. We didn’t really think much further ahead past this. Just that we felt since George finally decided to come visit me, we finally let you in on the secret.”
George nods hesitantly at Karl’s words, dragging his thumb over Karl’s knuckles as his eyes continue to dart between the image of the two of them on screen and the chat. It’s exploding with excitement and confusion and honestly more than anything he wants to close and hide away from the prying questions and the sudden twisting feeling in his stomach. But that’s not an option now, they took that deciding step and he’s got to deal with the consequences of it.
“A lot of you want us to kiss,” Karl murmurs, and George actually focuses in on the words rushing over the screen, there are a few actual questions, people asking about how they started dating or how long George is staying in North Carolina. A comment sticks out about them faking the relationship for his VISA makes him choke on a breath and he tucks his face into Karl’s hair to recover.
“You okay, angel?” Karl murmurs the question into his shoulder, and the softness of the term feels like it’s not even being played up for the stream. George sits upright, nodding slowly as he turns back to the stream.
“I think, chat, if you behave. And ask respectful questions, then maybe,” he stresses the word, staring into the camera, “Maybe we have a quick kiss at the end. But…that’s something more for us, not you.”
He can see Karl glance at him out the corner of his eye, but nothing is said on the matter, not wanting to point out the fact that they haven’t actually shared a single kiss and now might be doing it for the stream. Before they have the chance to acknowledge the chat again the familiar chime of a discord call breaks through the headphones and George flinches away from it, switching to discord to see that Sapnap was calling. He casts a short glance at Karl before clicking answer. He doesn’t so much as have the chance to tell Sapnap they’re live before his friend is shouting through the phone.
“Kiss! KISS!” Distantly Dream’s voice echoes the demand, like they’re sitting in the same room, and George resists the urge to roll his eyes at the pair. They knew better than anyone that he and Karl wouldn’t be ready for a kiss—though that could easily just as well be the reason they’d called to place such demands.
“But retention,” George tries to argue, the arm that was previously around Karl coming up to pull the headphones off his head and hold them between so he and Karl can both listen to their friends demands.
There’s a scoff on the other end of the call that’s undoubtedly from Dream, and it’s easy to gather he’s now at Sapnap’s side, “Fuck retention. Kiss time. Give us a smooch. Chat, did you know the whole time they were with us in Florida they refused to kiss in front of us. They said it was weird that we wanted to watch.”
“Okay, when you say it like that,” Sapnap chimes in, he and Dream both laughing as they realise how weird the way he worded his playful demands sounded. “We don’t want to watch you kiss. It’s just been interesting to see George be so touchy with someone.”
“You two are just jealous that George will give me kisses and cuddles but won’t give them to you,” Karl teases, and George glances at him again, a small smile on his lips. Despite the reason they’d called, it does feel a lot more comfortable, more easy to talk about having Dream and Sapnap on the other end of the line with them, easing the tension of the lie.
“You’re probably right,” George agrees, egging on the teasing. He hears a vague noise of disapproval from Sapnap on the other end of the line.
“Enough deflecting. Kiss time.”
George looks at Karl and sees his friend looking back at him. There’s something soft in his gaze, something almost nervous, and then he’s leaning in.
George sucks in a small breath and dips his head to where Karl is still small against his side, catching his lips. He’s not sure if he’d expected them to actually follow through with it, George can’t even remember the last time he kissed anyone, maybe some girl or guy at a college party drunk off his mind. They’re in front of their friends, and their fans, and god Karl’s lips are softer than he might have expected.
Nerves tighten his throat, and he pulls back from the kiss just enough that Karl’s eyes flutter open questioningly before he’s dropping back down. The headphones previously held between them are discarded, sliding down somewhere against their shoulders as he threads his fingers through Karl’s hair, tugging him a little closer. He can feel the way Karl’s breath hitches, feel his teeth catch against his bottom lip and George wants to kiss him breathless, but the knowledge of the camera still rolling forces its way back to the front of his mind and he pulls away. His fingers slide from the back of Karl’s head, curls twisting between them as they move to his cheek.
“I love you,” the words come out soft and it takes George moment to realise that he’s the one who had whispered them. The realisation comes like a punch to his stomach and his mouth falls open and then snaps shut again in a silent sort of panic.
Karl’s eyes are wide, his cheeks flushing a dark shade of pink, and he sits backwards, both hands coming to cover his mouth—though not fast enough to muffle the excited half-squeaked out laugh that bursts into the otherwise quiet room.
Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit, fuck, shit.
George sucks his lower lip between his teeth, fumbling hands bringing the headphones back over his ears where he can hear whoops and hollers from Dream and Sapnap before they even quite make it into place. He flinches against the noise and clears his throat.
“You happy now?” he asks keeping his tone light and hoping his cheeks don’t look as heated as they feel. The chat is once again exploding, cutting only briefly as one of his mods switches it to emote only before it’s exploding once more with a series of emotes from both his and Karl’s channels.
“I am, actually,” Dream sobers on the other end of the call, and George can practically feel the look he’s giving them as he asks, “Are you?”
George’s gaze darts over to where Karl is still sitting, red all the way from the tips of his ears trailing until it disappears into the collar of his shirt. He meets his eye, and they share a soft smile before he nods, “Yeah. Yeah I’m happy.”
In the image of them on screen he sees Karl give a small nod and feels his cheeks warm further, “But uh, since that kiss was all it seemed you guys wanted from us, I think Karl and I are gonna go. He’s going live on his channel later tonight, right?” Again, Karl nods. “I might join him, we’ll see. But uh, for now that’s us. Bye guys! Bye!”
George waves to the camera, ignoring Sapnap and Dream’s sounds of protest in his ear, as he disconnects from the call and ends the stream in a series of quick button presses.
The moment the stream ends, Karl is in his lap. The headphones are once again discarded, this time somewhere on the floor by the sofa, and before George can even question the motion, Karl’s lips are on his again. Fingers twist into his hair, and George hums out his approval, letting his own hands find their way around Karl’s waist. Teeth catch his lower lip and give a gentle tug before the kiss is broken, lips trailing lazily down his jaw. George’s head drops to one side, baring his throat for the kisses that work their way across porcelain skin.
Nimble fingers trace gentle patterns into bruised skin. The room is dark, save the soft glow of the salt-lamp in the corner, the sun not due to rise for another hour or two, and despite the late—or rather, early hour, neither member of the pair has slept a wink. George isn’t sure at what point they moved from the loveseat in the recording room to Karl’s bedroom, but the promised stream was long forgotten, replaced by gasping breaths and reprimanding bites over what had at the time been unmarked skin. He’s sure they both look a sight, now. His throat is raw, hair still a tangled mess from where Karl’s hand had been twisted for god only knows how long. His lips feel near bruised, though he’s sure in comparison to Karl he looks near untouched. George drags his gaze down the younger man’s body, letting out a small hum as he admires his handiwork. His thighs have it the worst, finger shaped bruises left at Karl’s pleading request, complimented by dark purple bite marks that make it hard for him to keep his legs closed. His as is adorned with a striking red hand print that George never wants to go away. At the thought of the mark, George drags his hand down to Karl’s ass, smoothing it slowly over the tender skin.
“George,” Karl breathes. It’s supposed to be a warning, George can hear the tone, but it comes out barely more than a whine.
George moves his hand back up to the small of Karl’s back, “I love you,” he breathes. The words feel foreign coming out of his mouth, but the way Karl lights up at them sends a warm feeling rushing through him.
“That’s twice you’ve said it first.”
“And twice you haven’t said it back.”
Karl lets out a small sigh, blinking up at George before burrowing his face back into his neck, “You know what’s crazy?” he asks.
“What’s that?” George closes his eyes, fingers starting up their slow patterns again.
“We were straight this morning,” Karl muses, “And now—”
“You were straight this morning,” George shifts around to look at Karl. “I haven’t been ‘straight’ since I was like fifteen. I just kept that tidbit between me and the guys I hooked up with at college parties.”
Karl’s eyes widen with unspoken curiosity, lips parting like he’s going to ask about it before they snap shut again. He’s quiet for a moment, and George can practically see the cogs turning in his head.
“Your parents didn’t know.”
It’s a statement more than a question, and George hesitates to give his nod of confirmation.
“George did you really come out to your parents through us pretending to be in a relationship? No wonder you were so stressed about it, oh my god,” Karl shifts until he’s propped on top of George, looking down at him with wide eyes. “George.”
“I had wanted to tell them anyway,” George shrugs, “I just always gave myself a reason not to.”
***
“What if they don’t like me?” They weren’t due to leave for another hour, Karl had only been home from filming for a half hour at this point and George had spent the entire time pacing, stressfully twisting his fingers in the cuffs of the sweater he’d definitely stolen from Karl’s closet.
Karl’s hands land on George’s shoulders, stilling him before he can turn in his place and start up another lap of the house, “Hey, take a breath. What happened between this morning and this evening that set you off?”
George shrugs, throwing his hands up in unanswered frustration, “I don’t know. I don’t know I was talking to Dream and Sapnap and I was excited because everything went so well when we spoke to them on the phone, right? But then Sapnap made a joke about how I’ve made comments about your mum before and—god that’s awful. I don’t want her to think I don’t respect her and then like…when we spoke to them on the phone we weren’t actually in a relationship but now we are and I ju—”
Karl catches his lips in a gentle kiss, silencing George’s rant carefully before stepping back, letting his hands smooth over the lines of the sweater up to hold his jaw, “Hey, take a breath. It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay,” George all-but whines out, stomping his foot in what could near be described as the start of a tantrum. “I want them to like me.”
“They do like you,” Karl murmurs, his thumb brushing gentle across George’s jaw. “And my mom knows you respect her, she doesn’t mind the jokes because she knows that’s what they are and obviously now she knows I love you and you don’t need to be stressing like this so much, okay?”
“But what if—”
“No,” Karl shakes his head, pressing another kiss against George’s lips. “No more stressing before dinner. They already without a doubt like you and they’re going to love you when they meet you in person. Come sit down, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like this.”
George huffs out a breath and follows Karl over to the sofa, letting his boyfriend sit down before clambering into his lap. It’s easy to make himself comfortable, despite it being the first time he was the one to be held rather than do the holding. But Karl takes the role with ease, snaking both arms around George’s waist the moment he’s leaned back against him, taking hold of his hands where they rest against his stomach.
“You’re overthinking it,” Karl murmurs, resting his chin on George’s shoulder. “I promise it’s gonna be okay.”
George doesn’t respond, his eyes wandering down to where Karl begins playing with his fingers. They thread into one another almost absently and then release to smooth a circle into his palm before threading back together again. The action continues until George relaxes some.
“Thank you,” he mumbles, tilting his head backwards towards Karl. He’s met with a soft smile and turns some more so he can press a kiss into his boyfriends cheek.
“I love you,” Karl murmurs.
George parts his lips, a quiet I love you too on the tip of his tongue before he feels the cool press of metal sliding down his finger. He frowns, gaze dropping from Karl to his left hand where one of Karl’s rings is now nestled snug against his fourth finger. His head tilts curiously and he lifts his hand, twisting it so the metal catches in the light before turning back to Karl with a questioning gaze.
“I mean…I’m supposed to propose to you in two days for our ‘anniversary’ anyway,” Karl shrugs, sucking his lower lip between his teeth.
“Yeah and you have a ring for that in your study,” George breathes, twisting around until he’s straddling the top of Karl’s thighs, bringing two hands to cup either side of his face, trying not to stare at the glinting silver on his ring finger. “This is your ring and—Karl we’ve not even been together for two weeks.”
“I know,” Karl says quietly, almost distant, “It’s not like…it’s not like I’m proposing to you.”
“You could.”
“For your visa.”
“No, you could just propose to me,” George presses moving one hand to the hair at the name of Karl’s neck, using the hold to tilt his head up so he can easier kiss him. It’s soft and he can taste the shaky exhale of mint on his tongue from Karl.
“George,” he mumbles against his lips, and George almost wants to ignore it, wants to lose themselves to them wrapped around Karl on the sofa where he can ignore the looming meeting the parents dinner. He doesn’t though, instead sitting back, giving Karl the chance to speak. “You can’t tell me I can propose to you and then kiss me like it’s nothing. And even if you could. As you just pointed out we’ve not even been together for two full weeks, that’s hardly enough time to—”
It's George’s turn to cut Karl off with a kiss, but in his rush to stop him from finishing he miscalculates the distance and angle and instead knocks their foreheads together, his lips finding a sloppy landing on Karl’s cheek.
“What—” Karl drops his head into George’s shoulder, breaking into laughter that George echoes almost immediately. “You idiot,” the exclamation is made between gasping breaths, Karl lifting his head in attempt to sober before catching George’s face and rolling into a fit of laughter again.