what is marriage fraud?

ch. 13

Fondness.

That's what the feeling was, at the very start.

Dream was fond of George, in every definition of the word, encapsulating perfectly what emotion was stirred within Dream every time they spoke, whether it was with gentle amicability, tones so soft and exchanging phrases in such a way that indicate closeness, warmth.

Or in giddy laughter they shared together, both unable to breathe with smiles so wide it cut into the conversation, dishing out digging remarks that never quite had any bite to them about the other, lungs bursting in jovality, eyes glimmering and bright.

Even in the way they bickered, annoyance lacing their tones, but, never able to fully sink in, something keeping them from tipping off the edge into any true bitterness, fighting still that showed their familiarity, their comfort in each other.

And, especially now, that fondness was exponentially heightened, George having a face to the voice of his best friend, the one he's shared so much of his life with together, over screens and phone calls, causing George to want nothing more than to be here, with him.

Dream had George. Their online relationship carried easily into the new life they created together, even more so, causing Dream to question if that feeling he always felt with George stopped at fondness.

Was twirling an errant curl of George's hair in his finger when the other mindlessly tipped his head towards Dream, which caused them to drift ever closer, blurring the line of personal space more, just fondness between friends?

Was Dream getting a funny feeling in his chest when George laughed brightly at his stupid jokes, the smile lingering on his lips as he met Dream's gaze, making his breath get stuck in his throat and head a little dizzy, just a normal reaction?

Was all of it nothing to be concerned about? The light tracing George did over Dream's skin was supposed to make him nearly pass out, right? When George hovered in his room, absolutely not wanting to leave for the night, drawing it out as much as possible, that of course should cause Dream to feel endlessly happy, correct?

And, obviously, when Dream's eyes would catch on George's lips, lingering and wanting for some situation to happen again in which they would have to connect with Dream's own was just a normal thing to want, right? That desire, the thoughts he couldn't quite tamp down about things that could happen a bit further than that, it was all just fondness, adoration.

Of a friend.

Dream could recognize even himself that his excuses were beginning to weaken, not holding up fully anymore.

George had made himself comfortable into Dream's home, his life. And, Dream didn't want him to leave, at all.

There was something there, something that Dream knew from the very start that was different with George than all his other friends.

It was much easier to ignore when they were separated and in two different countries across the sea.

Now, as Dream swallowed thickly, watching a sleepy and hair so mussed, begging Dream to card his hands through it and be fixed, like on some mornings he couldn't resist acting out his desires, a just woken up George walked into Dream's bathroom, muttering out something about Sapnap always in there right when he needed it, grabbing the extra toothbrush Dream bought for George as this situation happened more often than not, Dream unable to keep his eyes and imagination down from just watching George brush his teeth, he knew something was up.

Something he couldn't bring himself to go through with.

-

Days and weeks and months passed.