In This Together | Dreamnotfound

Chapter Nine

"I need you to do me a favour and… take care of him."

George purses his lips at the words, remembering the very obvious admiration Drista had when talking about her brother.

His tongue feels heavy at his response. Even though Dream did agree to the deal, he's now unsure whether it was actually okay for the man. Maybe he should've just left the man alone to move on from his ex, found another guy from Grindr that he could've paid.

"Are you alright?"

He snaps out of his trance and glances at Dream, who apparently lit a cigarette whilst he wasn't paying attention.

George grabs the stick and places it between his lips, he inhales-

"You smoke?"

-and chokes.

He hears Dream laugh at him, grabbing the cigarette. "Guess not.", he says.

"I don't, but" he tries to grab it again, Dream raises his hand in refusal. "I wanna try. I dunno."

"Nope, not letting the baby smoke. Sorry."

"I'm 26, asshole."

"Still baby."

George shifts his foot so he can trip Dream up, but the man avoids it and lightly tackles him.

They stare at each other for what felt like an eternity  and before George could even react, Dream is carrying him, doing his best to run. George tries to scream but only ends up laughing loudly.

He pinches Dreams sides to make the man let him go, not really thinking about the consequences.

It eventually works, Dream spinning and falling on his back. George, in turn, tries to hold on to Dream to stop the man from falling. They both fall luckily enough, on a pile of leaves that someone has seemingly piled up. He watches Dream close his eyes shut to brace himself for the impact.

They land, but George doesn't immediately move. To him, it felt like everything was in slow motion, as if he was in the world's cheesiest romantic-comedy film.

Leaves fly up and fall from the impact, and they make everything seem a little bit more beautiful. He could wax poetic and go on and on about it all felt surreal if he were a man of words. But he's not, so his mind blanks at the view of the man under him.

Dream, eyes shut, grinning as if the universe had gifted him with everything sweet and kind in the world. The man laughs, lifting his head a little and resting his forehead on George's shoulder.

George's breath hitches, and he hates it.

He dislikes the way his heartbeat speeds up- how the cliché scenario was something he's been imagining with Dream for the longest time. But now, it's happening to him with a different man, and he distrusts himself for still feeling like he's floating.

Instead of blond dark hair that could be mistaken for brown hair and brown eyes that sparkle at him, there's dirty blond hair and equally green eyes that seem to get warmer as it stares at him.

Instead of being pulled down to a hug, he receives a soft touch to his jaw and a tiny peck.

Instead of wishing that the moment was real, he holds Dreams face and kisses him.

The kiss was unlike the few ones they've had before rather than being lustful or simply for display, this kiss was soft and loving. It reminded him of the warm cup of tea that Dream had bought him when they met up in that bakery.

It felt like coming home, and it scared George.

They pulled away, and Dreams smile had mellowed down to something softer.