George Davidson could not possibly be gay.
There couldn't be any evidence in the world that he was gay. None. Not the way he looked at Dream, not the way he dreamed about running his fingers through his dusty blond hair, not the way he wanted nothing more than to wake up and fall asleep in his arms.
He refused to believe these wants and hopes and dreams were anything more than feelings of brotherly love for his best friend manifested from loneliness. Living on your own in a country across the world from your family could do that to a person.
That's all it was. Right?
A confused brunette tumbled out from under the covers of his bed, snatching his phone up from off the dresser and checking the time. 9:42. He'd slept late today.
There were twelve new messages on his phone, the first one sent at exactly 9:30. One text per minute. All of them were from Dream, who always seemed to wake up not long before George.
good morning
geoooooorge
gogy you there?
wake up bozo
gogyyyyyy
georgie?
george!
wake uppppp
oh georgeeeeeeeeeee
do you wanna stream today
gogy
ok then
George smiles unconsciously at the blond's persistence, then catches himself. He sighs his usual dealing-with-this-idiot sigh and begins typing.
dont u know i need sleep idiot
Dream begins typing a response immediately.
there's mr gogy
Another sigh from George. "It's too early for this, moron…" he muttered aloud. He began to type slowly in response. There were so many things he wanted to say to Dream to shut him up, but he couldn't bring himself to say them.
He decided to be daring.
if u have a morning boner i cant help you stupid, he typed playfully, quit texting me
Dream responded as if he were waiting by the phone. you wish you could help me, don't you, Georgie. Dream responded. George flushed promptly. how do you know what i wish? He typed. Dream responded with a smiley face and began typing. i can just tell
oh yeah? George typed. I wish you would shut up.
so mean, Dream texted back. Then he called, the phone beginning to ring loudly. George shushed the phone and answered the impromptu phone call.
"Hello?" Dream said sleepily. George could feel his mischievous grin through the phone.
"What d'you want, Dream?"
"To talk to you, obviously. You're so mean about everything."
"I don't wanna talk to you," George huffed.
"Yes you do, you know it."
"No, I don't."
"But I thought you loved me," Dream pouted from only a few miles away.
George promptly ended the call. With one swift movement he was out of bed, heavily flushed.
The temperature began to go up quickly as the sun rose. It was way too hot in Florida. George guessed this was to be expected, but he wasn't prepared for this heat. He was obviously very wrong to think that Orlando was all Disneyland and air conditioning. He looked around his room. His computer desk sat on the far side of the room. He enjoyed talking to his fans on stream in his spinny chair while the chat made fun of the boxes all over the place and his bed in the background. He had been staying in this room with gray walls and white curtains for two weeks now.
He thought for a minute, glancing at his phone and reaching for his water bottle. Should he call back Dream and stream with him? He wanted to, so badly, but he wasn't sure he could handle the constant flirts he was bombarded with every stream and the cooing of the stream chat. Something in his stomach shifted whenever Dream said his name the way he did during a manhunt, the playful catcall that let him know he was going to be attacked.
Poor George. Why did he have to go through this? Nobody should ever fall for their best friend. The uncertainty and the awkward interactions and the longing and the desire and the fact that George was not gay was all too much for a 25 year old living on his own.
He picked up the phone and began typing.
live on twitch in 10 mins, be online on time or im ignoring you
End of First Chapter
