sink in you (dreamnotfound)

noise

Having a crush on your childhood best friend is never fun.

Pining through sleepovers, getting jealous when they have a partner, sharing beds during birthday parties... scenarios that usually end up with two childhood best friends dating one another.

And that's exactly what's happening to George—sharing a bed full-time with Dream, silently cursing out the world when he drops photos with a new partner.

Every night, around the same time, Dream and George crawl into their shared four-poster bed together. Every night, when they crawl into bed together, George shoves a pillow between the two for his own comfort/safety. He's always been the closed-off one—the one that minds sharing a bed, the one that always keeps the door locked when he changes his clothes and never even attempts to drop a hint—and he proves that through his actions.

Today was like all the others. It's nearing their usual bedtime, and they're winding down. George showers first, usually. Dream second.

Routine. George has always been one for routine. Always going to bed at 11 PM and always trying to shower around 8 PM—sometimes earlier—and always eating dinner around 6 PM and always shoving the pillow between him and Dream around 11 PM when they're both situated in their bed.

George doesn't hate sharing a bed with Dream—he's always so warm, and the bed is big enough to where they won't even touch if the pillow isn't there—but he's too afraid of waking up too close.

He tells himself one thing, over and over: get too close, and you'll get hurt. Icarus flew too close to the sun and got burned. If you try to hug a bear, you get eaten.

Romeo and Juliet dared to get close, and they ended up dead. A lot of relationships don't work out—Justin and Selena, Kim and Kanye, Miley and Liam—a lot of celebrity relationships. Nothing works out when it gains publicity, George has found.

Being a celebrity is no fun. Backlash, criticism, having your own tag on popular fanfiction websites... George never would have thought he'd be experiencing it first hand, but he is. He's a tag. He's got full magazine articles criticizing him for not dressing masculine or not being as good on the guitar or whatever else the public decides to shame him for.

The internet loves the idea of a bandmate romance. Originally, it had been Dream and Sapnap—the fans called them Dreamnap and fucking Click—before new things: Dream and George.

Dreamnotfound. Gream. A ship that started out as an inside joke within the fandom, but the fanfic writers got a little too involved.

Dream is a touchy friend, which doesn't help at all. The world has pictures of Dream and George holding hands and hugging and cuddling and George hates it.

But it's not like he can admit that he hates it because it made it look like they were dating when he wouldn't mind dating.

"Do you have deodorant?" Dream asks, standing dormant in the frame of the bathroom's entrance with a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. "Mine's out."

"Yeah, it's in my drawer," George replies, trying to avoid peeling away from his phone for any longer than he's comfortable with.

"Thanks, doll."

Doll.

George is no stranger to Dream's pet names. They were previously friendly and stupid and he doesn't know if he hates them or loves being the one Dream calls "doll" and "angel" every day.

He just sighs, putting his phone down and burying his face into the pillow behind him. Dream is sometimes just too much.

Too flirty. Too hot. Too talented.