lo and behold

chapter four: doesn't give a damn about me

It had been rough for Dream to see George after he'd seen him kissing Michael, the football player, under the bleachers. Fall had chilled into a slightly cooler winter. It was nowhere near cold enough for gym to be held inside, though, which meant Dream still walked with George every day around the track during sixth period.

The blond thought of swans. Swans were such beautiful creatures. They fell in love once and swore themselves to their mate, sometimes intertwining their neck with theirs in a moment of sheer emotion. He wondered how a lone swan would survive, spouse gone for a hundred unknown reasons. Would they pine like he was right now, a part of him aching to hold the brunette close, yearning to take Michael's place? Or did swans move on, finding a new bird to house their heart with?

"When are we going skating again?"

Dream's puddle of thoughts had whisked him away from reality, not permitting him notice to the world around him. He looked down at George, who was walking next to him, a look of slight concern on his face.

"Dream?" the shorter boy asked, fully stirring him out of his preoccupation.

"Huh? Oh, I don't know," Dream shrugged. "I can go Wednesdays and Fridays, I think," he tried to appear uninterested, though the flutter in his stomach betrayed him.

George hummed, pleased. "That's fine with me, too," he smiled. "So tomorrow?"

Before Dream could nod, George's boyfriend sidled up to George and wrapped an arm around the pastel's waist. "Hi, baby," he grinned, nodding at Dream. "What's up, dude?"

The taller boy tore his eyes away from the sight that threatened to tear his heart in half. "Nothing," he managed to respond. "Just, uh, talking."

"Hm," Michael looked at Dream warily. "Wanna walk with me, babe?" he ruffled George's hair as the brown-eyed boy looked down shyly.

"See you tomorrow," George waved at Dream before walking off with his boyfriend.

Was this what it felt like to ache? He'd never remembered feeling this way for anyone, not even his ex-girlfriend.

It had rained last night, which meant that the sun was gone today. The clouds cast a film over everything, making it greyer in a way that, strangely, Dream found comforting. In his tumble of emotions, it was nice to walk alone for a bit, letting the smell of fresh earth wash over him.

The next day was sunnier, though it was still cool enough for Dream to shrug on his leather jacket before he'd left the house that day. He didn't know how to feel about skating today; he would get to see George, but he was still struggling with the way he felt about him.

He thought about the art class he'd taken as a freshman in high school. How defeated he'd felt when his project turned out unsavory. But he thought about how he'd simply let it go, moved on, vowed to himself to make his next project better. Was that how he should've acted? Removed himself, moved on, loved the next person harder and better than he did George? Or had he already done it without knowing, moved on from his ex-girlfriend and then fallen faster and stronger for another person?

"I like your jacket," George had said to him as soon as they'd found each other at the skate park.

"Oh," Dream stumbled on his words. "Uh, thank you?"

George merely smiled in return, though it was a small smile. "Skate with me. I want to take my mind off of some things," he asked, smile finally slipping off of his face as it was replaced with a frown.

"What's on your mind?" Dream immediately asked, hopping onto his skateboard and matching pace with George, who was gliding slowly along on his white rollerblades.

"I don't know," George began. "It's... a lot, and I don't want to put all of that onto you."

Dream stopped his skateboard and reached out to gently slow the shorter boy down, holding his shoulder and turning him around so that they were facing each other. "George," he asked sincerely. "What is it?"

The brunette looked down and then back up into Dream's green eyes. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

The blonde boy's heart melted at the dejected look on George's face. "Come sit here with me," he guided them over to the bench at the park, handing his Monster to the other boy. "Drink some, too, it might make you feel better," he said softly, trying to comfort George as best as he could.

"I- I wish I had someone who cared about me more as my boyfriend," the brown-eyed boy whispered, wrapping his arms around himself after sipping at the black can the taller boy had handed him.

Immediately, Dream was pulling off his leather jacket to gently cover George's shoulders with it. "What do you mean?" he murmured. "It's okay, I won't tell anyone."
"He just... only ever calls me when he wants to hook up with someone," George muttered, looking down and pulling at the pleats in his skirt.

Dream's heart pulled on his ribcage, demanding he make everything okay for George, a mix of pity and anger and love and heartbreak wrapped up in a tight, tight knot that squeezed at his chest, not unlike a heart attack. "I'm sorry, George," he whispered, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and using the other one to tilt the pastel boy's head up gently to face his. "Why do you let him treat you like this?" he implored softly, though there was no hardness to his voice, only wistful questioning.

"He treats me well sometimes," George responded weakly, though the two both knew it was a lie without even having to say it.

With a jolt, Dream noticed how close they'd gotten, and cleared his throat awkwardly as he pulled the hand on George's face away. "It's okay," he soothed, not knowing what else he could say as the brunette leaned his head into the blond's chest.

"It will be."

"Let me drive you home," Dream asked gently.

"Okay."

Dream said nothing as he pulled into George's driveway, cutting the engine as he didn't want to disturb his parents with the loud rev of his motorcycle.

"Dream, I-" George began, before falling silent and looking away.

"What's wrong?"

"Can you hug me?" the brown-eyed boy whispered, getting off of the motorcycle and looking up at him.

Dream's heart melted all over again. It was a feeling he was rapidly getting used to having around the other boy. "Of course," he murmured, and reached out to wrap his arms gently around the boy who was still wearing his jacket.

Dream didn't ask for it back as he drove off that day.