Dreamnotfound Makeout Oneshot Collection (sfw)

Is it Too Late to Fall in Love Tonight?

A/N: This was written for an event I recently participated in called "mcyt writers valentine's day blind date event!" on ao3 (here's the link, please check it out! https://archiveofourown.org/collections/mcytvalentinesday) Also, the fic title comes from the song "Too Late" by Washed Out, I recommend listening to their Purple Noon album it's so good.
Anyways, I had to write for a friend of mine, Light. Idk if she has a wattpad, but she has an ao3 (LightNS) and a Tumblr (lightns881) and I recommend checking her out, she's pretty pog.
(Also, I wrote the first 1k of this fic back in August, so if the beginning seems a bit weird it's bc it was written 6 months ago lmao) Anyways, hope you guys enjoy this :) (Also can we get a pog in chat for me FINALLY writing a fic with the actual game of 7 Minutes in Heaven being incorporated in it lmao)

George gave the hard, plastic bottle a strong spin, watching casually as it spun in a circle on the hardwood floor, the other five partygoers watching with equal entertainment.

It was interesting, how someone finding an empty liter bottle of soda and another finding the closet door in the living room unlocked could cause a spontaneous game of Seven Minutes in Heaven to form, and that ten of them would immediately sit in a circle to play. There had been two other rounds before George had his turn spinning the bottle: The first having ended with the two victims leisurely walking out while engaged in a deep conversation, the second ending much more energetically with the door flying open and the two running out to continue their supposed game of tag in a more spacious area. Since the four previous players never sat back down, only six people remained in the game, one of them George, and one of them Dream.

It wasn't a coincidence that Dream was sitting in front of George, watching the bottle spin in the center of the circle with him. It was Dream who managed to coax George into playing the game and coming to the party, after all.

"Nobody's going to care if they know you or not! You'll be coming with me, I'll just tell them you're my best friend and college roommate and they'll just reply with an 'okay' and leave you alone!" Dream had reasoned after receiving an invitation from an old high school friend for a small graduating party happening the next night. It had taken another two hours of puppy-dog eyes to whittle George's stubborn walls down and convince him to come to the party with him, the final breaker being an awfully whiny "Pleeeease? It wouldn't be fun if you're not there."

His excuse for cracking was that he was tired of hearing Dream whine and wouldn't hear the end of it if they didn't go. The excuse wasn't necessarily a lie, but the main reason had something to do with him getting sick of feeling funny in his stomach every time Dream shot him a pleading look.

So it wasn't surprising Dream roped him into sitting down to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with a bunch of strangers.

George's eyes left the bottle and flickered to the people sitting beside him, who were either talking or watching the bottle intensely, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the fact there was a high chance he'd end up in the small closet with one of these complete strangers. It wasn't that they were bad or anything, George just didn't know them.

The bottle was slowing significantly when his gaze shifted back to it, and George found himself begging the bottle to land on Dream. He'd much, much rather be locked in a closet with his best friend than anyone else around him.

Maybe his begging manifested and applied more friction to the bottle to stop it; maybe it was fate, or pure coincidence. But regardless, George sighed out softly in relief when the bottle eventually stopped, the neck of it pointing directly at Dream, who shot him a casual grin as they stood up.