Inferno // dreamnotfound

f o u r

TW: mentions the sexual assault (no detail or anything), panic attack. Also, a/n: in case anyone didn't catch on, whenever Dream is referred to as 'Clay' it is from George's perspective because that's what he knows him as, just in case anyone gets confused.

George awoke, realising his arms were entwined around one of Clay's. He abruptly retracted his hands, but couldn't help the thought of how comfortable it felt. That was when it hit. The memories of the previous night started to flush out any warm feeling from his mind as he froze up. He could feel his stomach churning and his leg bouncing uncontrollably against the mattress. Shaking his head violently, George sat up and tried to busy his mind with thinking about how kind Clay had been - saving him two nights a row.

No, I shouldn't do that: try and romanticise what just happened, George thought. But if he didn't try and focus on something positive he had no idea what state of mind he would end up in. He clasped himself into a tight ball-grip and hugged himself to try and physically push down the memories that tried slithering to the surface. George just stared at a singular spot on the wall for a bit, humming to himself to try and calm himself but his breathing rate just increased.

Clay finally woke up and furrowed his brows at the sounds he could hear coming from George. He sat up also, immediately trying to think of what he could possibly say or do. "George," he spoke softly and hesitantly. George startled at the sound of his voice. "Clay?" he squeaked.

"Hi, George, it's okay, just breathe," Clay's voice was a little more confident now but he was still wary. The dirty blonde was just about to reach out his hand but checked himself. "George, is it alright if I- touch you?" he asked. George nodded lightly as Clay re-reached his hand out and placed it on George's shoulder gently. His touch was comforting. George didn't know why he didn't feel repulsed by it given his circumstance but at that moment he didn't care. Eventually, George uncurled himself and launched into Clay as his breathing started to even out.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before George murmured, "Clay?"

The aforementioned's ears pricked up, almost, suddenly not minding his real name being used by George. "Why did you help me?"

Clay seemed very confused for a second while he tried to think of how to respond. "I- you needed me and so I- I don't really know what you mean by why," He answered truthfully. "Why why wouldn't I?"

"Thanks, anyway... again," a small chuckle left George's lips and Clay felt a half-smile form on his.

"God, I must seem like such a creep," Clay blurted. "I've literally brought you to my house each night we've met, that's so... creepy."

"No, no. I literally asked after knowing you for two nights. I'm the creep," George smiled, mocking Clay slightly. A comfortable silence ensued before George shifted to get up.

"I should probably get going," he said, "and stop literally intruding on your life."

"Oh, yeah... you're such a bother," Clay raised an eyebrow sarcastically. George rolled his eyes and debated whether or not to clean his face of all the tears and gunk that had taken up residence. He decided to do so in the kitchen sink. Clay perked his head up to the sound, as he shuffled over, still sleepy.

"If you want a shower, you can just ask," Clay smirked. George jumped.

"Jesus, Clay," he sighed, "also, I'm good, thanks. Your sink has been sufficient enough."

As George was walking down the corridor outside the apartment, Clay just behind, getting his shoes on, a young voice came from one of the letterboxes, "Walk of shame, the second day in a row..." it said suggestively. George blinked and gulped simultaneously, taken aback, with a naturally guilty look on his face. Clay jogged up behind him and muttered under his breath, "Ignore him, he's thirteen and a prick."

Somehow he heard. "I am actually fourteen, for your information," the voice hissed. Clay rolled his eyes and escorted George downstairs.

"Is your car still at the... place?" Clay asked, getting into his.

"No, I took a cab just in case I drank anything," George replied. He followed, slipping into the passenger's seat. George gave Clay his address and he was delivered home.

"Wow, only had our second date and we've already been to each other's houses and slept in the same bed," Clay joked, somewhat uncertainly. George laughed out loud at his ridiculousness, though his heart fluttered slightly and headed into his own block of flats, leaving Clay in the car. They waved each other goodbye and George started climbing the stairs to his level.

The block was run-down, especially compared to Clay's. The building was grey and had some windows patched up with cardboard, darkness looming even at 11 am due to the broken light bulbs and vast chunks of wall covering the sun. George's flat was small, yes, but it was clean and cosy so he didn't particularly care what it looked like from the outside.

George again debated going to the bathroom for a wash but decided he'd just wait until the evening. He knew exactly what he was avoiding and his shame grew as he sat on the sofa, flicking through channels mindlessly. Why couldn't I just do it? It's so stupid to be sitting here worrying about my own fucking bathroom.

George just clicked the television off and sat in silence for a moment. He felt painfully alone and serpents slithered all over his body as he was continually brought back to the previous night. He raced over things he could have done differently. He felt like he was suffocating. Why didn't I just not have that drink? Why didn't I lock the door behind me when I went in? Why didn't I do more to stop-?

That thought was interrupted by a ding from his phone. Clay had texted him.

Clay: Hi, I can basically feel you overthinking so I'm going to try and distract you :)
Clay: what do you do with an ill chemist?

George:  Wow, either you're a stalker or a mind reader
George: also what do you do with an ill chemist

Clay: well if you can't helium and you can't curium, then you should probably barium.

George: that was so bad but I'm laughing so hard hehe

Clay: glad I could make you smile ;)
Clay: and there is plenty more where that came from, Georgie

(1113 words. I hope these chapters are a good length, also although I have done research into this topic I don't have experience with this (thank god) so I really hope this is accurate enough but also doesn't harm people. If I do something wrong please call me out so I can change it and improve in future chapters, stay safe <3)