TW: ANGST, anal sex, swearing, riding, make up sex, proposal, overstimulation
top dream
bottom george
little editing
The words confused him.
Come here.
A simple text message from Dream, two words.
At first, George thought it was some. . . some sex invitation— after all, rarely did Dream type in such a serious way.
So, George climbed out of his desk chair, waltzed up the stairs; knuckles met Dreams door as he knocked.
"Come in," Dream shouted. George peeled open the door, peaking his head into the bedroom.
He knew instantly.
This wasn't an invitation to anything, as the room was dark, and Dream sat at his desk, a video he was editing plastered onto his screen.
"You can. . . sit down. On the bed."
"Uhm. . ." George took a seat on the bed, the bed being close to the desk chair. Close enough where George could reach out an arm and brush it over Dreams shoulder. "What's up?"
Dreams jaw clenched. "I—" He dropped the mouse he was using, and instead sat his hands in his lap.
The chair had wheels, so he turned and faced George.
"—I. . . don't really know how to start this."
George's heart sped up, his eyes wondering around Dreams face as he tried to get some form of information out of his expression.
Was Dream breaking up with him?
"Look George, it's just—" Dream shook his head. "I love you. A lot, okay? Don't get any wrong idea about that. But just. . . sometimes you can be. . . rude."
"Rude?"
"Mean. You. . . you hurt my feelings a lot, and I know you don't mean too, but you do."
"What? How?"
"Today, for example—" Dream took George's hands in his own; George crinkled his nose at the touch. "—You, Sapnap, and I were talking about us. As a couple. Just stupid questions, remember?" George nodded. "Sapnap asked who admitted to liking the other person first, so I answered the question and said I told you first."
"And?"
"And then you mentioned how you weren't even sure if you liked me before I admitted it, but hearing me say it realized you did."
". . .Okay?"
"And then you said of course I would admit it, you would never snoop that down low and ask out someone like me."
George fell silent.
Sure, he meant it as a joke.
He knew he deserved Dream, and Dream deserved him— he just made a stupid joke that George was too good for Dream, which was totally false.
"I— it was just a joke, Dream," George shifted.
"Don't be so sensitive."
"But that's not just it."
"Yeah? What else?"
Dream sighed, dropping George's hands. "You always have to have the last word, too. You'll call me an moron, I'll call you an idiot, you'll tell me you hate me, I'll say I love you, and you just always have to mutter something beneath your breath. It's never an I love you too— it's always you stupid bitch or shut up. You do that in arguments too."
