lo and behold

chapter seven: rings my bell

"I want you to come over instead of going skating today," George said, pulling on the sleeve of Dream's long-sleeved shirt. They were, as always, walking around the track. The sun was shining on George's face, making his eyes seem more luminous than usual as the rays danced in his irises.

"Uh, okay," Dream agreed tentatively. "Why?"
"Well, I want you to meet my cat, and my mum wants to meet you. Says she thinks you make me happier," George looked down, blushing as he fiddled with the hems of his frayed white jeans.

Dream smirked, cool exterior not betraying his fluttering insides. "Do I make you happier?" he asked, tilting George's head up so that they were making eye contact.

George flushed even harder. "Well," he giggled. "You buy me my favorite drink every day and you take me to school, so.."
Dream let out a wheezy chuckle. "Shut up," he laughed, though there was no real hardness to his voice. "I'll come over, George."

Twenty minutes later, Dream was pulling the keys out of his bike's ignition, smoothing his denim jacket down and quickly running a hand through his hair. "Your parents know that I'm coming, right?"
George laughed a little. "No, Dream, they don't. I've just invited a total stranger into my house."
Dream leaned over and ruffled the other boy's brown locks affectionately. "A stranger that you love," he quipped back.

George buried his hands into his face. "Stop," he spluttered.

"Hello," George's mother greeted Dream warmly, both hands coming up to hold

his in a comforting handshake. "George has told me so much about you!"
"Mum," a flustered George mumbled.

"Oh, you," she reprimanded him lovingly. "Thank you for being George's friend, he was so scared he'd be alone this year!" she let go of his hand as she looked up at Dream, eyes crinkling as she smiled.

"Okay, thank you, Mum, Dream and I will be in my room if you need us," George

spoke hurriedly, rushing Dream upstairs and shutting the door as soon as the pair were both in his room.

Pastel pink walls and a soft-looking, white-sheet clad bed looked back at Dream. A desk with flowered vines painted onto the legs sat in one corner and a crammed bookshelf in the other.

George sat down on the bed and patted the space next to him. "This is my room,"

he shrugged, though the bounce of his knee gave his nerves away.

"I like it in here," Dream reassured, sitting down next to George and gently placing a hand on the brunette's knee. "It's calm."
"Thank you," George said in a near-whisper. "I-it's only fair, you let me see your room, you know?" his voice returned to a normal pitch, and Dream could see George swallow as a silence fell over them. The sounds of the birds chirping and the cars honking outside embraced them as the pair maintained their tentative eye contact.

His hand hadn't left George's knee. "Do you remember that night?" Dream asked quietly, sincerely, breaking the ambience as his hand briefly squeezed the brown-eyed boy's knee before he removed his hand completely, instead placing it onto his shoulder gently.

George swallowed again and a light pink flush dusted his face. "Not a lot," he began. "But I remember kissing you."

Dream would never know who'd leaned in first as he felt a vaguely familiar pair of

lips meet with his. He opened his mouth slowly and deepened the kiss, backing away to lightly nip at George's bottom lip.

George hummed, a small noise of contented pleasure as he snaked his arms around Dream's neck, hands lightly pulling at the locks of hair that he could reach.

The moment was so, so ephemeral. Perfect, a frame frozen in time, something that Dream would wish he could've cut out and worn in a locket.

And then it was over. Dream's face was wet. George was weeping when he pulled away. Dream's face was wet with George's tears. "Hey, hey," he coaxed, pulling George into his arms. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"
George breathed in shakily. "I-I'm sorry," he whispered.

Dream's heart twisted. "It's okay, don't apologize, you did nothing wrong. We

don't have to kiss if you don't want to."

"I just- I can't have another relationship, not yet," George wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his pink sweater. "I'm not ready."
It hurt to see his boy so broken. Dream wanted so badly to kiss the pain away, hold him close as the scars on George's heart dissolved. But he couldn't do anything about it if George wasn't ready. "That's okay," Dream reassured. "I'll always be your friend, no matter what, I promise," he rubbed soothing circles on George's back.

And Dream kept his promises when he made them. He drove a little faster to

George's house every morning, ordered another shot of peppermint in his mocha even though it made the drink more expensive, little things that he knew George would never notice, but things that made him smile, nevertheless.

"This tastes really good today," he'd said the first time Dream had ordered his mocha differently, sipping from the steaming cup as the blond walked with him to his first period class.

"Really?" Dream raised an eyebrow, closing his locker as he turned around and was met with the sight of a smiling George.

"Yeah, they must've changed something about it," he'd mused as he walked in front of Dream, the pair weaving their way through the crowded hallways of the high school.

Dream allowed himself an amused chuckle behind George's back that day.

And it was never weird, or awkward, even if it tore at Dream's heart just a little bit more every day, the yearning in the pit of his stomach for George's hands on his skin and his hands on George's skin growing with every extra shot of peppermint Dream asked for, the ache for George to love him just as much as Dream loved him nourished by every extra dollar Dream spent on gas driving to George's house.

------

The school had started to prepare for prom seemingly overnight, April disappearing into a humid and sunny May. Bad was slowly but surely disappearing from every event the group planned together, constantly overworked by trying to organize everything in time with the rest of the student council.

"Guys," he huffed as he sat down for lunch ten minutes late, as was becoming the quick norm nowadays for him. "We're not selling nearly enough tickets for the amount of time I've been spending on this darn evening."
Dream, Quackity, and Sapnap looked at each other, having all already bought tickets, save for Dream. He'd been on the line about going, wanting badly to ask George but knowing it wasn't right of him.

"So, Dream..." Sapnap nudged. "Are you gonna buy a ticket?"
Dream sighed. "I don't know, maybe."
Quackity began to speak, a teasing glint in his eyes, but closed his mouth after a moment. "Are we all going to go as a group?" he asked tentatively.

Bad sighed. "I can't, I'm backstage all night counting votes for Prom King and Queen."
After a short conversation, the entire group agreed to meet at the venue come that night.

"Are you going to go?" Sapnap asked Dream again as Bad rushed off to man the

ticket stand in the corner of the cafeteria again.

Dream sighed. "Fine," he relented, and got up to walk towards the ticket stand Bad was now buzzing around.

But before he made it to the table, George and Poki walked in front of him, smiling and laughing as they came to a stop behind the last person in the line.

"We should go dress shopping next week," the shorter girl exclaimed excitedly.

"Ooh, at the new store in the mall?" "That one!" So, Dream walked away that day with a slightly overpriced prom ticket and a stomach full of excited butterflies.