Chapter Text
George
I lived alone in a tiny flat. It had four walls, one bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchen, and zero space for anything else. There was a tiny bit of room for a couch in the open area between my bedroom and the kitchen, but I used it for my stream set up instead, so there was truly nowhere for me to call a ‘living room.’
Outside, the wind was causing the loose shutters to slap against my window every now and again, causing me to jump. I need to get that fixed, I thought, knowing well I wouldn’t remember after the storm passed. I watched as the sky turned dark and the clouds grew dense, preparing to send their hell down to where I lived. Another day in rainy Brighton, London.
I was supposed to stream an hour ago with Sapnap, Karl, Dream and Quackity but the power for my building had gone out, so I had to cancel. And now I sat on my bed, staring out my rain spotted window and hoping for the lights to come back on.
Snapchat message from Dreamyy
I ran my hand through my hair and swiped on the message.
“Power still out?” He wrote.
“Yeah, it looks like my whole street’s out, too. I’m not sure I’ll get my elec back on tonight :(” I watched his Bitmoji pop up as I hit send, waiting for him to type.
“Do you want some company?” My stomach tugged at itself and I fought back the smile crawling its way onto my face.
“Sure :)” I hit send, my phone starting to ring immediately. I had the Discord app on my phone, serving as a ‘Factime’ since I was overseas from him. He, of course, had his camera off and just began with a simple:
“Hello, George.” His voice matched the low rumble outside my flat.
“Hi,” I replied quietly, setting the phone down on my bed. There was no use in holding it up to my face since there was no light. “How was the stream?”
“Pretty great, Jackbox games are always the most fun; it would’ve been better if you were there, though.” I felt my face heat up. Dream and I would always joke around like this, and I would always have the same flustered reaction. My body just couldn’t handle being complimented.
“Okay,” I laughed softly, “whatever.” I rolled my eyes and heard him laugh on the other line.
“You don’t believe me?”
“Not really, no.” I replied. “You’re just too much for me, Dream.”
“Oh, am I?” Dream’s voice was thick like honey, and just as sweet. “You should believe me, I always have more fun when you’re around. I like when you are on call.” My entire body felt like it was engulfed in flames. Again with the blushing? Really?
“Oh my gosh, Dream.” I scoffed, causing him to wheeze lightly. I like his laugh, I thought absentmindedly as I reached for my phone. “I’m going to tell everyone you’re making me embarrassed if you don’t stop.”
“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, his voice a blend between seriousness and that teasing tone I’d grown to know and love. I bit my tongue.
“No.” I laughed, shaking my head. Despite all his idiocy and joking around, Dream knew when to stop and could tell when I was serious. And he always made sure I was okay with what he was saying before joking about anything; that’s why he continuously messes with me the way he does. Because I’ve given the green light that I’m okay with it. And I respect him endlessly for checking in with my boundaries before pushing too hard.
“I know you too well, George.” Dream told me. “And I know that you love the way I joke with you, hmm?”
“You are so full of it, Dream, oh my God!” I laughed. He was right--he was so, so right. But I would never admit that to him. Dream was my best friend, and I would never--I could never admit that I enjoyed his attention in the way that I did.
“Come on, Georgie, you’re gonna tell me you don’t like it? Not even the tiniest bit?” He pressed. I was not going to give in.
I wasn’t out yet. I hadn’t told anyone--not even my family--that I was gay. It wasn’t like it was a big secret I was hiding, but I just hadn’t gotten around to it. And I didn’t feel like making a spectacle out of something that wasn’t any else’s business but my own. I kind of just figured that one day I’d bring home some guy and introduce him as my boyfriend and that would be that, but as it is, I’d yet to get that far. I’d been with plenty of guys, sure. Safely, of course, but I still hadn’t found someone that I really clicked with.
“Ohh, so the silent treatment?” Dream hummed.
“What? Sorry, I was thinking.” I laughed nervously.
“What’s on your mind?”
“Um,” I wracked my brain, trying to come up with something, “nothing much. I just don’t really like the storms, so I was thinking of all the ways that I could die in a thunderstorm; lightning could strike the rafters outside and short circuit something and start a fire, or my flat could flood and I would drown, or--”
“That’s morbid, George, oh my God!” Dream laughed. “Why don’t we just talk, and keep your mind off of it, hmm?”
“Yeah, yeah.” I grumbled.
“That means no more silent treatment.” He added. “What’s your, hmm, favorite color?”
“Dream,” I deadpanned, “I am literally colourblind.”
“But, like, if you had to pick. Remember when you wore the glasses--just choose, oh my gosh you’re so annoying sometimes.” Dream scoffed. I thought deeply.
“Blue.” I shrugged. “Probably the lighter shades, though, because they’re pretty.”
“Pretty? Didn’t know you had such an extensive vocabulary, George.” Dream teased.
“Wha--why are you so picky? Whatever. What’s yours?” I rolled my eyes.
“Green, obviously.” He replied in a ‘duh’ tone. “And since you’ve seen it, I’m sure that you can understand why. Green--specifically lime green--is the superior color.”
“Gross.” I shook my head. “You can’t see me, because I have no lights, but I’m pretending to throw up.”
“That’s because you’re an ass.” I could hear the smile in Dream’s voice, despite his vulgar words.
“Why’re you talking about my arse, Dream?” I asked suggestively.
“You wanna know why, George?” He replied back, matching my energy. “It’s because you have a great ass.”
“Sadly for you, you don’t even know what my arse looks like.” I sighed dramatically. “And this must suck to know, because I really do have a great arse.”
“Show me, then.” Dream’s voice was clear. I wasn’t sure if I’d heard it correctly or not, though. Did he just say show me? “I think you’re bluffing, George.” I was thankful for my lights being out, because the blush that covered my face was unmatched.
“I-I’m not bluffing.” I stammered. “I just didn’t take you for an arse pic kind of guy.”
“I’m usually not,” Dream said quickly, but I could hear the smirk in his voice, “but I’d like to prove you wrong. For science.” I guess I was silent for one beat too long, because Dream added, “I’m just messing with you, Georgie.” I laughed.
“I know,” I scratched the back of my neck nervously. He seemed so serious, I was almost convinced… “Believe it or not I can take a joke, Dream.”
“You were just so quiet, you had me thinking you were actually taking a picture for me.” Dream replied, making my face break out into a smile as I scoffed.
“As if--my arse will never grace the screen of your phone, Dream.” I told him.
“But a man can dream, hmm?” He joked. I laughed along with him. Yeah, a man can dream, I thought. I knew it was bad to have a crush on your best friend. Especially when your best friend was straight, or at least didn’t reciprocate your feelings. All this ‘flirting’ we did, it was just for fun. It’s just his personality; I’ve seen him interact with everyone this way, so I know it isn’t just a me thing. But a man can dream. “Are you still there?”
“What?”
“You got super quiet--I thought maybe you’d hung up, or passed out or something. Tubbo passed out on Ranboo’s stream not too long ago, so I know it's possible if you’re overworking yourself.” Dream’s voice was no longer his teasing tone, rather a more gentle and caring one that I loved to hear. He only used it when it was just him and I, usually when I’d call him crying about something that had happened or if I was frustrated and just needed to vent. Dream was a good friend.
“No, um, I’m good.” I smiled, knowing that he was listening carefully and could definitely hear my smile. “I was just thinking, sorry.”
“You keep saying you were thinking--what is going on up there?” He asked. I could tell he was still worried, but his voice was less concerned now.
“Just things. ” I mused. I couldn’t tell him that I was thinking about the different ways he talked and how they made me feel, or how his laughter made my heart light. And most of all, I definitely couldn’t tell him how anytime he said anything remotely sexual to me I got extremely flustered, which never happens. “What’s going on in yours?”
“In my head?” He laughed. “I’m thinking, wow George is such a weirdo. Why is he not talking to me and why is being so quiet today? ” I sighed.
“I’m sorry,”
“Don’t apologize, just tell me what’s up.” Dream laughed again. I was gonna do it. I should just tell him, right?
“Okay, um,” I began, grabbing my phone nervously, “well, Dream I like--” I paused. I can’t. “I’m gay.” There was a long pause.
“Oh.” Oh my God. “Okay, cool. Is that it?” No, not even close.
“Yeah,” I sighed, “that’s it.”
“I-I’m glad you told me, George.” Dream’s voice sounded sincere. “You know--I would never, um, judge you. And if you thought that I would--”
“No! It wasn’t that.” I said quickly, my heart beating at a million miles per minute. “I haven’t told anyone. Not even my parents. So, yeah.”
“Oh, so, I’m the first person to know?” Dream sounded happy but shocked. I didn’t even mean to tell you, but yeah, you’re the first.
“Yeah.”
“George,” Dream whispered, “I’m really glad you told me.”
“Me too.” I replied. That was a lie, I was so scared. “Um, I should probably go to bed. It’s pretty late.”
“George, you can talk to me, you know that?” Dream said sternly. It surprised me. Even when I would call him upset, we’d never really get this deep. “You’re my best friend, and I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t come to me. Okay?”
“Okay.” I whispered back.
“Goodnight, George.”
“Goodnight, Dream.” I hit the end call button, throwing my head back against the pillows. I couldn’t believe I did that. “Fuck!” I yelled. How could I do this to myself? I wasn’t ready? I wasn’t even out to my parents? What were they going to say when I tell them I told Dream first? Oh God. What if Dream asks how I know I’m gay and I have to explain the things I’ve done? I clenched my eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening. How could I be so stupid?
--
His fingers trailed along my jaw, brushing against my skin oh-so-lightly. It took everything in me to not say a word.
“George,” his familiar voice crooned, calling me closer to him. I knew that I wanted it--that I wanted him. His long fingers found their way up my face, sweeping across my lips gently. A tingle ran through my body, making me shudder. He knew what he was doing. “Open your pretty mouth, George.” I parted my lips, letting his fingertips snake their way into my mouth. I couldn’t see his face, still, as he pushed his fingers further into my mouth. “Go on, suck on them.” I closed my lips around his two fingers, sucking slowly while trying to find his face. Where was it? He pulled his fingers out, my saliva spreading across my lips.
“Dream?” I whispered, still searching for him. “Where’s your face?”
“What?”
“I can’t see you.” I replied, reaching out with my hand. He grabbed my wrist, squeezing tightly. I watched as his large hand overpowered my small wrist easily, pinning it to the bed underneath me. “Dream,” I whispered, my voice coming out in more of a sexual way than I intended. I was moaning.
“Shh,” Dream’s voice echoed all around me; I could feel his breath close to my ear. His other hand touched the skin on my neck gently. “Do you want it?”
“Dream,” I moaned again. His fingertips began to press on either side of my neck, causing a wave of heat and pressure to rush to my head. I gasped. “More.” His grip around my neck tightened, squeezing until I felt like I couldn’t breathe. “Dream!”
“Dream!” I moaned his name, sitting up in my bed. My room felt like a furnace; my skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat, my shirt clinging to my chest and my boxers sticking to my thighs. I pulled the blankets off of me, wincing at the painful hard on beneath my wet boxers and walked over to the heater, turning it off. I guess the electricity turned back on, I thought angrily. I laid back in bed, pulling my shirt off and tossing it to the floor. What was that dream? I’d never had one like it--it felt so real and lifelike, I could’ve sworn it was actually happening. I exhaled shakily, stretching my arm down and putting my hand into my boxers. I was leaking precum already, soaking through the thin fabric.
I began to stroke myself slowly, trying to imagine one of my old flings touching me up. But it was no good, the image was too far gone and I couldn’t get a clear picture. An image of a faceless man flashed across my mind and I shook my head, my hand stuttering its pace. I can’t do that, I thought, embarrassed enough as it was, he’s my best friend. I picked up the pace again, the memory of his hand choking me coming back. I instinctively touched my throat with my free hand, wishing I had someone here.
“Fuck,” I groaned. My hands were smaller than any of the other men I’d been with, so I could wrap it around my throat as well as they could. Using my middle finger and thumb, I pushed on either side of my neck and moaned at the pressure rising to my head. I was getting close now, all I had to do was focus.
“Open your pretty little mouth, George.”
I could hear his voice echoing in my mind as I reached my climax. I pushed harder, my other fingers closing down and around my neck as best as they could. Heat washed down to my erection as I gripped harder, and I thrusted my hips into my hand with a whine.. “Fuck, fuck--nngh!” I squeezed my hand around my neck harder, my toes curling as I came down from the orgasm high. But after, all I felt was guilt. I just came to the thought of my best friend, I walked to my bathroom, wiping myself clean and staring at my face in the mirror. I was flushed pink and-- “Jesus!” I got closer to the mirror, examining my neck. I had three light purple bruises forming on my neck--two on the left and one on the right--from where my main fingers had been gripping. I walked back out, grabbing my phone to check the time-- 11:43 a.m. With a groan, I walked into the kitchen and grabbed some ice from the fridge. I put it on my bruises and sat on my bed, checking my messages.
Snapchat message from Dreamyy
“We’re gonna play Manhunt at 12 pm our time--6 pm yours, you wanna join?”
I typed a response,
“Sure.”
I felt like it was too plain, or that Dream might think I was upset, but his bitmoji had already popped up so I had to hit send. We both sat in chat for a second, neither one of us saying anything before his contact filled my entire screen. Why is he calling me? I jumped and stared at it worriedly. I hit the accept button hesitantly.
“George, what was that for?” His voice immediately came over the speakers. I knew he would read into it too much. He always does this-- “George--hello?”
“Hello, sorry, I was thinking.” I mumbled.
“Are you mad at me?”
“No, I’m not mad, I promise.” I bit back a laugh. He sounded kind of cute--nope, I cannot call my best friend cute. Especially not after last night’s dream of him.
“Okay. I was just making sure, because that ‘sure’ seemed kind of short and angry.” Dream explained his reasoning. I called it.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” I replied. “I had a weird night, and just woke up.”
“Oh?” Dream sounded confused and I mentally cursed myself. No. Stop yourself now. “What happened? Did Georgie have a nightmare--oh. Did you piss the bed?”
“No, I didn’t piss the bed, Dream.” I laughed. “I just had a weird dream, that’s all.”
“Care to elaborate, or am I going to have to pry it out?” He poked.
“I cannot elaborate, and you will not pry it out because I already forgot about it--I just remember it being weird.” I lied. Good lie, I convinced myself.
“Hmm, okay, whatever you tell yourself.” Dream scoffed. “Hey, I’ll call you later--Drista keeps trying to call me and I’ve been declining for like five minutes--”
“Oh my God, Dream. Answer your sister, I’ll talk to you later.” I hung up on him and exhaled shakily. The ice had melted, the collar of my shirt wet with its remnants, which was a bit annoying. But on the bright side, the coloring of the bruising had gone down significantly. I walked over to my desk and began my day like usual. Answering emails--lots of them--and scheduling a few event streams for next month. Then I got started on some coding for the SMP, which was fun but it was work. As much as I enjoyed it, I knew that it was a job now, and so it became more and more daunting to actually complete things the way I wanted to complete them. “Come on--” I groaned, leaning back in my chair. I’d messed up again. This one line of code was proving to be exponentially more difficult than I’d thought it to be; everything else that I’d coded this morning had been relatively easy, but now I was starting to wear out and get tired of work. I checked the time. 5:45 p.m. “Dammit!” I marked my stopping point and quickly went to change into a different shirt and set up my desk for a stream. I hopped on Discord, joining Dream and Sapnap mid-conversation.
“You’re so fucking stupid.” Sapnap scoffed.
“No, I’m literally right. You just don’t know what you’re talking about--like usual, might I add.” Dream replied smoothly. I laughed and both boys cheered my name simultaneously. “George, help us settle this debate: Does a straw have one hole or two?”
“One.” I replied, taking a sip of my water as I got situated.
“I told you you!” Sapnap shouted.
“George--it literally has two holes! Are you--can you not see, or something?”
“Does a doughnut have two holes?” I questioned. Dream went quiet. “What about a pool floaty? Or a bagel?”
“Okay, I get it.” Dream mumbled. “But a straw--”
“No.” I cut him off. Dream sighed as Sapnap erupted in laughter. “One hole.”
“Yeah, that’s right! George and Sapnap--the ultimate duo!” Sapnap screamed. I rolled my eyes and opened Minecraft.
“Whatever. You guys are stupid. Let’s start.” Dream mumbled. I laughed.
I loved to play with Sapnap and Dream. We always had fun--probably too much fun--and produced great content. I knew that today would be no different, but I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering. Last night’s dream of Dream--ironic, right--left me feeling guilty. He’s my best friend. And not just that, but I had used the thought of him to pleasure myself. It made me feel dirty. I also couldn’t stop thinking about the way his voice sounded over Discord--it sounded just like it did in my dream. It was near intoxicating. Especially when we’d get in combat and he’d yell my name, or accidentally let an expletive slip from his lips. I knew that he’d edit it out later, but it made me even more warm to know that only I would hear him say it.
“Oh, George!” His voice shook me from my thoughts. I looked around the map frantically. Sapnap was trying to find him in the End while I was supposed to be mining in the overworld. I’d, obviously, got distracted and ended up somewhere else. “Why are you just standing there?” Thank god for proximity chat, or else Sapnap would have yelled at me for doing absolutely nothing.
“Shit,” I groaned, “I was thinking.”
“Again? That has to hurt your tiny brain.” Dream joked. I rolled my eyes. “I’m gonna kill you now.”
“Wh--I’m going to kill you!” I scoffed. I looked around for him. Nowhere. And then I saw the spirals--invisibility potion. I quickly smacked him and he wheezed.
“Wow, you actually caught on!” We began to par and I hit him one last time, his inventory splaying everywhere. I killed him.
“Yes!” I screamed.
“No!” Dream shouted at the same time. I was at a half heart, almost dead, and I won. Sapnap’s voice came over my headphones, screaming ‘victory.’ “George--I thought you loved me!”
“I don’t.” I said, a little too quickly, the gay panic evident in my voice. Fuck. “I-I just like you for your money.” Sapnap laughed and Dream even chuckled a little. Good recovery. We played a few more rounds, making sure to get enough content for Dream to make a video out of, before closing Minecraft. Now we sat in the Discord chat, just talking like we normally did after a game, with me staring at Dream’s blank screen.
“Wait a minute--” Sapnap gasped, leaning into his camera. I laughed a bit. “George, oh my fu--who were you with last night?”
“What?” I laughed, shaking my head.
“I literally see the hickeys on your neck--Dream look! George got laid last night!” Sapnap squealed like an excited child. “How was she--was it dirty? ” The bruises. I stared blankly at the screen, trying to see if they could actually see them. They most definitely could.
“George, care to elaborate?” Dream picked his words carefully, referring to our phone conversation this morning. I pursed my lips and sighed.
“No, I do not.” I replied smoothly. Sapnap laughed.
“Oh my god--I can’t believe you let someone give you hickeys.” Sapnap was getting too much enjoyment out of this.
“Sapnap, you literally haven’t got laid since you were fifteen, shut the hell up.” Dream scoffed. I bit my lip to hide my laughter. Sapnap’s grin faltered.
“Okay, bye.” Sapnap hung up. I couldn’t tell if he was actually hurt, or if he left for effect. Either way, it was effective. I exhaled.
“Thanks,” I fumbled with my sleeve anxiously.
“Yeah.” Dream replied. “So, who were you with? Were you, um, safe?” I could tell he was trying to be there for me, but it just felt weird. Maybe because I didn’t want to come out just yet, or maybe because I felt a certain way about him.
“I, um, wasn’t with someone last night.” I told him hurriedly. I didn’t want Dream to think I slept around, even though I often did. I was safe, and I was clean, but I didn’t want him to have that thought of me regardless.
“Oh. Are they, um, old?”
“No.” I mumbled, feeling my face heat up. “They’re just bruises, not hickeys.”
“Wait--did someone hurt you? George, if you were hurt, you could’ve just said--”
“No, oh my God,” I covered my face. “I choked myself.” I blushed furiously, hiding behind my hands. Dream was dead silent on the other line. There was no motion on his side, it was like he had frozen.
“Why?”
“Why what?” I groaned in embarrassment. This was so cringe.
“Why did you choke yourself, George? That’s so dangerous.” Dream replied cautiously.
“Because I was trying to get off, oh my God, can we not talk about this, please?” I whispered. He went silent again. There was a sharp intake of breath before he spoke.
“You got off to choking yourself?”
“Oh my--Dream, please.” I was begging at this point. I was beyond embarrassed. “I really--I don’t--”
“I’m just asking, George.” I could hear the smirk in his voice, which made me even more shameful. He was laughing at me. This is mortifying.
“Ask anything else--literally, anything else.” I clenched my eyes shut.
“What were you thinking of when you came?” I choked on my spit, my hands dropping from my face. He laughed and I turned even more red. “You said--”
“I’ve got to go.” I hit the end call button and scooted away from my desk. Oh my--Dream just asked me that. I walked over to the kitchen and refilled my cup, chugging as much water as I could, trying to cool myself off. I was a ball of heat--my insides felt like lava. I could hear my phone going off simultaneously with my computer--Dream was trying to call me on Discord. I watched as the notification went away. I couldn’t answer. An hour went by. Everytime I thought I had gotten over it, the wave of embarrassment washed over me again when I remembered Dream asking if I got off to choking myself, and then him asking what I thought of when I came. It was absolutely humiliating. I laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling. And the worst part was, he didn’t think anything of it. He just thought we were playing around.