Living Together // DNF

15

*TW: assault, blood*

Dream stayed wrapped up in George's arms for a while, until the tiled floor of the bathroom became too cold and uncomfortable for the both of them. They moved back into their bed, George's hands not once disconnecting from Dream, but instead either rubbing soothing circles against his skin or just holding onto him. It was comforting to Dream, and it was exactly what he needed in that instant.

George had been the first person he had ever told about the night that he overdosed. He had always kept a mental block on it, but now that George knew, Dream felt different than he had expected. He was sad, of course, but he was also angry. And not for the reasons he thought he would be.

He was obviously angry at Fundy for what he had done, but he was more upset at the fact that Fundy thought he could mess with George when Dream wasn't around to protect him.

He didn't even have to be there to picture Fundy cornering George in the kitchen, predatory smile on his face as he spewed lies at him. He knew the feeling all too well, the anxiety and unease that came with even speaking to Fundy. And he hated imagining George feeling the same way Dream had always felt around Fundy.

He was so sick of him being there at every turn, always waiting to try and screw up Dream's life. It wasn't going to work, no matter how hard Fundy tried. And Dream was ready to make sure he knew that.

After lying in bed for about a half an hour, George had drifted off to sleep again, still feeling sick from being drugged by Fundy. Dream didn't want to leave him alone, but he knew he had something to handle, and it would probably be easier to explain to George after the fact.

So he gave George a quick kiss on his forehead, whispering a quiet "I love you" before sliding out from under the blankets. He changed into a pair of sweatpants, a hoodie, and some sneakers, not really caring what he looked like.

He could only focus on the feelings of anger coursing through his body, sending shockwaves of adrenaline through him as he grabbed his keys and headed out towards his car. He began driving a vaguely familiar route that he hadn't driven in years, pulling up in front of a rundown house that felt like a bad memory, a place that had only ever left him with a bitter taste.

He was gripping the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white as he took a moment to think about whether this was really the smartest thing to be doing. George would mostly likely be upset that he had gone alone, and he knew the smartest course of action would be to just turn around and leave.

Fuck it, he thought to himself as he turned the car off and hopped out.

His hands were clenched into fists as he walked up to the front door, his heart beating quickly. He wasn't usually a violent person, even when it came to Fundy. But he had crossed a major line, and so for once, Dream didn't plan to hold back, but rather let his emotions dictate what happened.

He knocked on the front door, eyes glued to the chipped white paint until he heard movement from behind it. And then it was swinging open, Fundy's face appearing before him. Fundy was confused for a moment, but then his face settled into something smug, a grin lighting up his features as he said, "Dream, I'd say I'm surprised to see you, but I'm really not."

Dream only exhaled sharply, stepping forward and into the house as both hands collided with Fundy's chest, grabbing the fabric of his shirt as he forcefully slammed Fundy's back into the wall behind him. His voice was low and edged with anger as he said, "shut the hell up, Fundy. You know why I'm here."

Fundy's eyes were wide, a shocked look on his face as he caught his breath. But his face flickered back into the same confident smirk that Dream had learned to hate, making his blood boil beneath the surface as he responded, "ah, I see. You're upset because I told George the truth."