Chapter Text
"Russia." George deadpanned.
"You're such an idiot." Dream scoffed a soft laugh. "Sapnap?"
Sapnap sighed. "I'm not even gonna bother. Every time I suggest an answer, you're like, George, you really think so?"
"Well, I'm asking the both of you—" Dream began.
George giggled stating his deliriousness; they'd been streaming GeoGuessr on Dream's alt for about two whole hours. George could tell Sapnap wanted to play CSGO—or quite literally anything else that wasn't GeoGuessr, but fighting to keep his eyes opened, George couldn't think of anything worse than having to go live after Dream.
So, reaching for his phone, George pulled up his and Sapnap's texts, typing out, 'Can I pass on csgo today?'
An immediate huff was heard following the green ring that blinked around Sapnap's discord icon, deriving a small laugh from George, augmenting in volume when he received Sapnap's text.
I guess 🙄
Having one socked foot propped up on his chair, knee hugged to his chest, George watched through hooded eyes as Dream moved through the familiar streets on the discord shared screen.
Turkey, George thought to himself, smirking winningly.
George cleared his throat, "Romania." forcing nonchalance in his tone.
Swaying Dream's thought process and instinct was George's favourite thing to do because he knew he could. The warmth he felt within himself when Dream would blindly follow his advice, no matter wrong, gave George a sense of pride. George did this to boost his own ego. That's what he convinced himself, ignoring the possible truth behind why Dream never second-guessed him.
"I was thinking Turkey..." Dream huffed, "...but I mean, I don't know, yeah...it could be Romania."
George hung his head, suppressing a laugh as he grinned at his lap, but hearing Sapnap chuckle quietly, knowingly, reeled a laugh out of George. The two of them continued in a course of ping-ponged chuckles. George knew that Sapnap knew: an unspoken connection, an untold inside joke.
"What are you guys laughing at?" Dream joined in, cluelessly.
"Just pop a Romania. Trust me." George urged, anticipating the chorus of Dream's plaints when he would eventually get it wrong.
Because it was Turkey, you idiot.
George glanced at the clock that rested on a shelf above his desk: 3:48 PM. He usually went to bed at half-past two around the same time that Dream did, but he received a text from him earlier saying that he was alright to keep the stream going for a little longer. He wasn't going to object because they helped each other out all the time and George figured that he could sacrifice a few more hours of sleep for him.
A couple of hours had passed and Dream was wrapping up his stream. Sapnap left a little earlier, telling the stream he was tired when in reality, he was going to play Rainbow Six Siege off-stream. George and Dream moved onto Minecraft towards the end of the stream; not really playing for anything and just roaming around on the server.
"Thank you guys, this was fun, as always. I don't know when I'll stream next probably—"
"Next month or something." George chimed in.
Dream chuckled. "No, I'll probably stream in a couple of weeks."
"Wow," George drawled out the syllables, foot slipping off his chair as he leaned into the mic to say, "You better hold him to that, chat."
"Well, I said probably—"
"He owes you guys a face reveal if he doesn't stream—"
"You're so annoying." George could practically imagine Dream rolling his eyes following the powerless insult. "Look, I can't promise anything. I might be busy working on something—"
"Oh," George spoke through a pout. "He's got priorities, your honour."
Dream laughed. "What is wrong with you tonight?"
"I need sleep," George yelled into his mic.
"What? Did you not sleep last night?" Dream asked, a serious tone overlapping his laugh.
"Obviously not, Dream." He sulked in his seat, letting out a deep sigh.
"George does this thing where he's tired, but he won't do anything about it," Dream spoke and suddenly George realized they were still on stream, causing his eyes to open slightly.
His eyebrows furrowed, "That's not fair—that's not fair. We were gonna—I was gonna end the call to sleep, but you were like, uh, I'm not tired," He imitated a scratchy American accent, sounding the furthest thing from Dream's voice.
Dream's wheeze sounded through his chuckle. "Is that how I sound?"
George broke into a grin. "Yes. It's your fault I'm sleep-deprived. And I'm sacrificing sleep once again for your stream."
"Well, you could have said no," Dream mumbled, seemingly distracted by something.
And purposely pestering Dream for his attention, George spoke through a smile as he said, "No, I can't 'cause then you'll message me begging for my attention like you always do when I try to cancel."
George wouldn't normally say these sorts of things on stream, but the statement derived from his sleep deprivation. There was this undying urge to be the most unhinged he could when sleep possessed his tongue, wringing out words for him. It was paradoxical; having the most energy to pester Dream when George was exhausted himself.
And just as expected, Dream sputtered out, "What?" through a light laugh, reeling one out of George. "I beg for your attention—that's funny—I'd argue that you can't say no 'cause you can't get enough of me, George."
George scoffed. "Okay."
"Because you love me, George." Dream pressed, falling into the habit of upping George when this side of him jumped out.
George's eyes shot up to his screen. "Stop."
No matter how tired, there was a limit to George's forwardness. Especially when Dream challenged the bit with that tone; one that he recently began using with George. There was this instinct within George to always dismiss Dream's notions when it got to this point because if he didn't, he feared where it would bring them—where the line or boundary grew blurry in their vision.
They discussed this part of their friendship when the fans started shipping the two of them. They discussed how they're pretty open to making jokes with one another because of how comfortable they were with each other—how long they'd known each other. However, lately, George has noticed a shift between them. Dream's usual terms of endearment held a lot more weight and some of the things he said, off-stream, when it'd be just him and George, had him questioning the grounds they were standing on.
He didn't want to look too deep into it, but what was scaring him was the way he found himself playing along. George noticed that the instinct that he had, in the first years of knowing Dream, to fight off the playful flirting when it got a little suggestive, slowly ceased to exist as the years passed. George would get this weird feeling, nowadays, towards some of the things Dream would say. And he'd have to snap himself out of it, with force. Because George started feeling embers in the fire that camped itself in the pit of his stomach, rising in heat with the questionable things Dream would say.
Because then at that point, at that point, it'd get a little too real.
"George?"
Snapping himself out of it, with force, George huffed in feigned annoyance. "What'd you want, Dream?"
"I'm ending the stream—"
"Bye!" George yelled in the mic once again as he glanced at his second monitor indicating that Dream's stream had ended.
Dream let out a deep sigh and George could hear him recline in his seat. He sounded exhausted and though it's probably no comparison to George's fatigue, he knew Dream had a lot on his plate with all the projects he was working on.
"Aw, is Dweam tired?" George mocked, standing from his chair and stretching his arms.
Dream let out a tired laugh. "Not as much as you, apparently."
"You're probably right." George nonchalantly said before abruptly ending the call, giggling to himself.
George secretly loved doing that for the reason that followed: he'll get a call from Dream in 3, he turned his monitor off, 2, walked over to his bed,...1, halfway through pulling the duvet covers over him, a ring erupted from his cell.
He smirked at his phone screen that displayed ’Dream' and scoffed before answering. "Pathetic."
"Did you just hang up on me?" Dream boomed from the other line.
"What was that earlier about me being in my clingy arc 'cause—"
"Alright, okay," A shared laugh. "Are you going to sleep now?"
"Yeah, are you gonna try and stop me again?" He put him on speaker before placing his phone next to his head.
"No," Dream's voice shifted into a soft tone.
It usually did; the transition in his voice from when he's streaming to when they're on call together. It's to be expected, George supposed, but he's been in a three-way call when it was Sapnap, Dream, and himself, and his voice was way different then than it was now.
George hated that he noticed these things. Why did he notice the way Dream's voice dropped two octaves when it was just the two of them, or how his words sounded less rushed and more thought-out, or how he'll laugh softly and quietly when he knows George is on the verge of sleep, or how he'll melodically say his name—
"George?"
There it was.
"Yeah?"
"One more day."
George's eyelids flew open.
"Holy shit. One more day." George breathed out, "I can't believe it's actually happening."
"I know," Dream paused. "I can't imagine what it'll feel like."
"I might pass out."
Dream laughed. "I'll catch you."
There was a brief moment of silence that fell between the both of them; it wasn't awkward, it wasn't weird—it was pensive. Having to still process that there was truly one day left before George boards his flight. He wondered how they'd act around each other.
"It might be harder for you to fall asleep with all of that in your head now."
George rolled his eyes. "You're always keeping me up."
"I can't say I'm sorry." He could hear the smile on Dream's face.
"That's mean." Is all he managed to say as his brain began racing with thoughts.
Would they shake hands? Or would Dream be okay if he just ran and tackled him into an embrace? Would Dream hug back? Would it be at all like the made-up scenarios in his head?
Moments of silence pass between them, that comfortable silence that George loves to wallow in because it's all theirs.
"I'll miss falling asleep like this." Dream sauntered through his thoughts.
Feeling himself slowly drift into a deeper state of unconsciousness, George slurred, "Me too."
George wasn't sure if he heard the next bit in his dream. If he imagined it. But through Dream's cadence sounded, "I'm scared, George."
George didn't know, until much later, that Dream had stayed on call long enough for the blonde, himself, to have temporarily dozed off in his chair.
And whether that statement—sounded through a dream or not—were true, George knew it was because they both weren't ready to see each other, and yet they were still so impatient.