Heat Waves By tbhyourelame

Moon Jelly

A gentle glow from the computer screen washes over the dark desk, colors flickering in rapid motion. The monitor whirs in self defense of the growing heat. The ceiling fan lays mockingly silent in the stifling air. Reclined in his seat, Dream's head is tilted back to watch the wooden slats for the slightest tremor.

Betrayal.

Beads of sweat collect near his hairline. He tugs absently on the sticky plastic of his headphones, where they rest around his neck. The small light on the exterior blinks green.

"Dream?" He hears George say faintly.

"Wait, did he leave?" Sapnap asks.

"It says he's on the call, still." George's voice slowly grows closer. Dream begins to detach his eyes from the fan. "Dream?"

The concern in his voice makes Dream sit up. He pushes his headphones back on and wipes his face. "Yes, yes, hello, sorry. I zoned out for a sec." He blinks to register what's on his screen, seeing green grass blocks and Sapnap's avatar crouching in front of him. "Shoot, did you end the stream?" He quickly tabs out just in time to see George laugh.

"No, but I'm about to. Couldn't end it without you saying bye," George says. The small considerate act is enough to bloom a warmth in Dream's chest.

He smiles. "Oh, alright. Bye stream!"

"Bye!" Sapnap yells.

George waves to the camera. "Bye you guys, thank you so much. Also, pray for Dream's air conditioning."

"And my broken fan," Dream adds.

"Bye bye," George repeats, then disappears from Dream's view. This stream has ended. A familiar feeling creeps into Dream's chest whenever that message appears post-stream; disappointment clouded with confusion. Today, it is accompanied by trickles of regret.

He frowns. "Sorry I spent so much of your stream complaining about the weather," he says, clicking back to the server. Sapnap has placed an oak sign before him that reads: wee waa dream can't take the heat. He rolls his eyes and breaks it.

"It's fine, really. I just feel bad for you," George says. His avatar bounds over and starts placing doors on the ground. "Any idea when it'll be fixed?"

"Soon, I hope," Dream answers with a huff, opening and closing the doors to appease George. "I don't think I can take much more of this." They'd been playing for the past three hours, meaning Dream had been accumulating enough sweat in his boxers to stick to his chair for much longer than any man should. Physical comfort was a key component for him to stay mellow, and not much could distract him from itchy tags and blistering heat. Not much, that is, besides gaming. "Seeing you was nice, though, something about your cheerful face distracts me from my agony," he confesses, words leaving his mouth before he can attempt to filter. He cringes. What was that?

"Oh my god, shut up," George says. He sounds embarrassed.

Sapnap coos. "Maybe I should stream with my camera on too."

Dream laughs, running away from the two of them to ease his sudden spike in nervousness. "That would keep my attention."

"Oh yeah, are my streams not interesting enough for you Dream?" George says, flying after him.

"What?" Dream says, feeling a pang of guilt. "What makes you think that? I love your streams."

George continues to act offended. "If you loved them you wouldn't zone out randomly."

"I didn't mean to," Dream whines, which only makes the other two laugh. "I just got distracted by my misery, and tried to airbend a breeze in here."

"Yeah right," Sapnap says, "you couldn't have been doing just that for ten minutes."