Stuck With Me (Gream/DreamNotFound)

3- Hot Stuff

Warning: this chapter contains mild non-consensual touch throughout (similar to the end of the last chapter), in addition to a more heated scene towards the end. Another warning will come before and after that part so you can skip it if you'd like. It's NOT full on smut, as I don't feel comfortable reading or writing that, but it does get more intense than other parts.

Alright, back to the story.

George woke up in a strange, dark place. He waved his hand in front of his eyes, but couldn't see anything. Stumbling around, trying to find a wall or anything else to hold onto, a figure appeared in front of him, giving off the only light in the space.

"George!"

"Clay?" George walked closer and Clay grasped his hands.

"Listen." His expression was grave. "You have to beat the ender dragon and get out of here, okay?"

"Wh-" George began, but was quickly shushed.

"Just promise me that, okay? You'll try?" He gave George a mild shake to get his point across.

"Yes, but-"

"I need you to try, George." His voice grew more frantic. "I need you."

George still didn't understand what was going on, but he knew he had to help Clay. "Okay."

The floor beneath them shook and Clay flickered in and out of view.

Clay moved his hands to George's shoulders. "You're waking up. Just remember it's not me, okay?" His voice got more distant, like he was yelling at George from across the street.

"What's not you? Clay, I'm so confused!"

"I'm not me! Or, no, I mean," Clay combed his hands through his hair in frustration. "George, listen. I don't know if I'll be able to leave."

"I'm listening, I just don't understand what you mean," George cried. Clay embraced him tightly, tucking his face into the crook of George's neck.

"Go without me if you need to." His voice was slightly muffled. "Don't come back for me because it's not me." The ground shook again and Clay stepped back. "You're waking up." He looked into George's eyes, his expression softening. "George, I-"

George woke up covered in soft sheets and Clay's arm. Still half asleep, he nestled closer, savoring the fact that he had been dreaming and Clay hadn't really disappeared.

"Clay, I just had the weirdest dream," he mumbled, sleep still coating his voice.

"Oh? What happened?" The other man began rubbing his hand up and down George's back.

George shivered. "You were there, but you were acting all strange, and- oh!" His eyes shot open as he realized the position that he and Clay were in, remembering his promise to stay on his own side of the bed. "Sorry," he said, pushing Clay away and scooting back.

"You're fine." George finally looked at Clay and gasped. His normally warm and inviting eyes were a cold, milky white.

"You're not Clay." He got off the bed and retreated, accidentally slamming into the stacked furnaces.

The Clay impersonator looked at him innocently, still laying casually on the bed. "What do you mean? Of course I am."

"No, this is what he meant. In my dream. Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?" George demanded.

Fake Clay swung his legs off the bed and stretched. "Oh, he's fine. He's right in here, actually," he said, putting a hand on his chest. "I'm sure he would say hi if he could, but..." His face contorted into a twisted grin that George had never seen on Clay's face before.