small tw for like 1 swear word, some angst, and a little crying
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They had moved in together about a month ago. Everything was great at the time. Still great, actually. Nothing was wrong with the relationship.
Just Dream.
Before they had moved in together, he had lived alone. Yeah, he visited family and hung out with friends, but he spent most of his time by himself. He never really minded, either. That is...
Until George.
George was bright and loud and bubbly and clingy and he would always give hugs and kisses and he was just so much and it was perfect. And yet...
Dream's skin felt like it was on fire whenever George touched him. The feeling would linger long after the touch had stopped, as though George's hand was still there. When they weren't touching, he felt as if his skin was aching, right down to the bones. Little touches, like a brush of the hand or a peck on the cheek, would send him spiralling for hours. George thought he was just easily flustered, but it was so much more than that.
He was incredibly touch-starved. And he had no idea what to do about it.
What even could be done?? His skin hurt when it wasn't being touched, it hurt when it was, what do you do about that!?
So he decided to ignore it. Whenever George asked why he was acting the way he was, he just played it off as being flustered. It was fine. Everything was fine, until it wasn't.
Dream had been editing a video for the past hour, cutting down the insane amount of footage into something more watchable. He saved the meager amount of progress he made, not wanting to push himself too far. He was about to stand when he felt a warm weight on his shoulders and arms draping down across his chest.
"Dreeeam..." came the all-too-familiar coo. "You need a break, c'mon, let's go to bed."
Dream wanted to move, or at least respond, he really did, but his brain just shut down at the contact. It was like his mind was a computer and the touch was like a virus that made him bluescreen.
"...Dream?" George shifted off of Dream, but the burning feeling persisted.
"Y-Yeah! Sorry, I-I, uh..." He fumbled over his words, his mind scrambling to get itself together.
George spun Dream's chair around so they were face-to-face. God, he was tall. A blush dusted Dream's cheeks in spite of himself.
"Dream, what's wrong? You've been acting weird ever since we moved in together. It's like..." He paused, his expression shifting and body tensing. "It's like you don't wanna be near me."
Shit.
"No, no! That's not it, I do wanna be near you!" Panic.
"You don't act like it! Whenever I like, give you a kiss or something you try to get away from me!" George's voice rose slightly and his eyes... was he about to cry?? "You don't ever wanna cuddle, you don't like hugs, I don't get it! Is it- is it me?" He took a step back, teary gaze fixed on Dream.
Dream stood up quickly, almost knocking the chair over. "No no no, I'm just... I-It's just-" He sighed in frustration. No matter how hard he tried, the words just wouldn't come out. "I-I can't..."
"Can't what??"
"When you touch me, my skin it... it hurts! A-And it's not like you're hurting me, you're not, my skin just burns for hours afterwards and if you don't touch me I feel this ache that just stays with me and I don't know what to do, I just-" His voice sped up and rose in pitch until he was out of breath and stammering nonsense. He sounded panicky, like he was about to break down any second. His eyes stung with tears and he pressed his palms to his eyes, partially to wipe the tears and partially to avoid looking at George. "I-I'm sorry."
He stood like that for a minute, shaking slightly, before he felt a gentle, almost feather-light touch on his wrists. "Is... Is this okay?" George spoke softly. Dream gave a small nod. His hands moved away from his face, being guided by the brunette. Dream's cold hands were enveloped in George's gentle (and really warm) hold.
The pair stood like that for a moment, Dream avoiding eye contact the entire time as tears slid down his face.
"You don't have to be sorry."
Dream's head snapped up with a look of confusion. "What?"
"You don't have to be sorry," he repeated, his voice filled with sympathy. "It's not your fault."
"I-I don't get it."
"You lived alone before we moved in, right?" A nod from Dream. "You're... You're probably touch-starved."
"I don't know what that means."
"It's like you're hungry for affection. Like, if you don't eat for a while, you're hungry for food. But instead of food it's like... hugs and stuff."
"That's- That's a thing?"
"Yeah. I'm sorry for not... not noticing sooner. And here I thought you didn't wanna put up with me anymore." A small and teary laugh from the two of them.
"I should've said something before now. I'm an idiot, I should've noticed something was off," Dream mumbled.
"Well you being an idiot isn't new information, Dream," George giggled, lightening the mood somewhat. "Can I give you a hug?"
Dream nodded and was instantly embraced in George's warm and comforting hold. He sighed, wrapping his arms around the others waist and burying his face in the crook of his neck, the tension finally leaving his body. God, he was exhausted.
"Let's head to bed, yeah?" George mumbled into Dream's hoodie.
"Thought you'd never ask."
