feel my hands. (dnf x gream)

Chapter One: You Look Prettier In Person, Too

"Okay, thank you guys for watching, I love you all so much. Bye!" Dream's green-bodied Minecraft avatar jumped beside George's, as he punched the air. "Bye guys! Say bye, George!"

"Bye!" George punched Dream, who punched him back, giggling when Dream chuckled. Dream's cursor hovered over the End Stream button, and right before clicking it, he yelled loudly, "PENIS!"

"DREAM!" George burst into laughter, Dream cackling. "I hate you! We're losing subs cause of that."

"Oh come on now. You know you love me."

George flushed a deep pink. "Shut up."

"What? I needed to end off with my iconic catchphrase."

"Vulgar language doesn't count for catchphrases."

Dream hummed lowly. They were silent for a while, George browsing Twitter; Dream reading through donos.

"George?"

"Mhm?"

"Aren't you tired?" He inquired. "It's like 11 pm for you there."

George glanced at the time. "I guess. I can't sleep though."

"You idiot, George. Go to sleep."

"But I wanna stay on call with you." He threw that around so casually. It caught Dream off guard. He fumbled for a reply, a blush spreading over his face. "Y-you idiot. Just sleep on call." George groaned and pouted. "I wish I was there with you."

"I wish I was with you too, George."

"Really?" He sat up a little too fast, rapping the back of his hand on his desk. "Agh. God."

"...Yeah. Yeah, why would I not?" George didn't say it, but he sounded a bit uncertain. On the other side of the call, Dream could hear his friend's fingers clicking away on the keyboard. 

"George?"

"Dream. If you had wanted me to be there with you, how would you forget that I'm visiting you in a few days?" There was less hurt than excitement in his voice because to be fair, George had forgotten too.

"Oh. It was just so long ago, I guess."

He laughed. "I forgive you, but only because I can't wait to see your face. I wonder what the mysterious Dream looks like?"

Dream nearly choked.

"Shit." He froze, feeling like his throat had just constricted. His hands began to tremble, and his vision blurred. George was going to see his face. Grabbing for his mouse, he coughed, hard. Then harder, and harder, as he tried to catch his breath.

"Dream?"

"Fuck. I need to go." His voice was breaking— it was nothing George had ever heard before. Dream hacked, his hands violently shaking, finally hitting mute.

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tw: panic attacks

Dream took deep, labored breaths, while desperately trying to end the call, missing at least 3 times. He had to stop the call, he couldn't let George hear him like this, he had to stop it before his hands disappeared. He furiously clicked, missing the button again. He was going to die. His heart was in his throat, beating fast. It was going to pop right out of his mouth. The floor too hard. The light too harsh, then too dark, it was blinking at him. His throat too small, he struggled, clawing at his throat, trying to force himself to breathe, oh god, why couldn't he breathe?