Chapter Text
“What do you want to do tonight?”
“Hmm?”
George and Dream are lying side-by-side on the latter’s bed, both in their own little worlds on their phones, scrolling through various social medias while the evening comes to a close and daylight peeks through the shutters.
They’ve done nothing of consequence today, nor have they done much of consequence all week, wrapped up in one another and allowing themselves to indulge in everything they’d been missing out on during their online friendship.
It feels natural, and even Sapnap (despite his grumbling) seems to have taken the romantic development in their relationship just fine. You’re just whining for the sake of your pride, Dream had said, to which Sapnap had shrugged without disagreeing, I mean, it’s not like anything changes. You guys were basically virtually humping during those late-night Discord calls anyway. To which George couldn’t help but choke on his laughter in surprise.
At most that day, they’d moved from the couch to the bed, opting to check their phones instead of making out for the umpteenth time like a pair of horny teenagers or hauling George’s computer setup into Dream’s office to play Minecraft in the same room.
Ok, so maybe it was getting a bit sickening.
But they were happy, and they both deserved to be happy and neither felt any guilt about wasting each other’s time. To them, it was just making up for lost time. They knew they’d have to come down from the high eventually, more than likely due to an outside force rather than anything under their control, and they were right.
‘Eventually’ just so happened to come in the form of a last-minute wedding for George’s cousin back home in England.
“What do you want to do tonight before your flight?” Dream repeats, tapping the lock button on his phone and turning onto his side to face George.
“I dunno,” George shrugs without an answer, throwing his own phone to the side and staring up at the ceiling in dismay. He’d forgotten for a moment that he had anywhere to be other than lie in Dream’s bed for the next twenty-four hours.
“We could go outside. See what grass feels like,” Dream teases, letting his forefinger skim along George’s collarbone lightly, causing George to shiver a little under his touch.
He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the way Dream can just touch him once and send his entire body into overdrive. He doesn’t think he ever wants to get used to it if it means giving up such a euphoric sensation.
George scrunches his nose, turning onto his side as well and pushing into Dream’s warmth, head fitting below the blonde’s chin like it was always meant to be there.
“No,” he finally quips after a beat, and he’s ready to leave it at that. A typically sassy and generic George response that always garners a low chuckle from Dream no matter how un-funny it is.
But then there’s a weird sinking feeling in his stomach that he can’t explain.
It comes on suddenly, as Dream wraps an arm around his waist to pull him closer, legs tangling together and George takes a fistful of Dream’s shirt in his hand when he’s hit with a wave of something that’s unexplainable. It toes the line between sadness and loss, as if he’s forgotten something very important.
“I just want to stay here with you,” George adds, and Dream must pick up on the slight desperation in George’s voice because of course — Dream picks up on everything when it comes to him.
The weight around George’s waist disappears, and he feels his chin being lifted gently. Soft green eyes are blinking back at him, brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and worry.
“We can stay here as long as you’d like today. And then when you get back from England we can stay here forever and ever, if that’ll make you happy.”
“No, I —“ George stumbles over his words as he tries to steel himself, vulnerability never his strong suit. “Nevermind. Yeah, we can just go for a walk or something.”
“No you what, George?” Dream prompts, and George feels a bit bad. He knows how much Dream hates it when he’s kept at a distance, when George doesn’t tell the whole story or the full truth just in the name of self-preservation. But it’s who he is, and it’s difficult to change that part of himself — even for Dream.
But he’s trying. And to Dream’s credit he knows that he’s trying, never pushing too hard or acting out in retaliation.
“I just…” George swallows, holding on to the warmth radiating from Dream’s gaze like it’s his lifeline, “I don’t want to go to England, Dream. I don’t want to leave. I can’t.”
Dream, annoyingly, just laughs, causing George to grumble a bit because this shouldn’t be a laughing matter.
“And why can’t you leave George?” Dream mocks his British accent, embellishing the can’t a bit more than is necessary, obviously trying to lighten the conversation.
“I don’t want to leave,” George says again, but the look on Dream’s face says that’s not enough. “I feel like I’ve only just gotten here, it’s only been a few weeks. Even less time that we’ve been together and now I’m leaving. It’s too soon.”
“Wow, are you getting sentimental on me?”
“No.” All George can do is roll his eyes and stick out his tongue like a child. “It’s more than that though, I just have this weird feeling. Like I shouldn’t go.”
Dream seems to recognize just then that George really isn’t kidding around, wrapping a hand around the back of the brunette’s neck and drawing calming circles with his thumb.
“I don’t want you to go either, but you should. A wedding is a big deal. Done right it only happens once in a person’s lifetime. And I’ll still be here when you get back.” George isn’t convinced, so Dream continues with a great deal of excitement, “I’ll tell you what. When you get back — in only a week, mind you, that’s not even that much time — we can do whatever you want for a full week to make up for it. Never get out of bed. Play Minecraft for hours. Go to Harry Potter at Universal. Whatever you want to do.”
It still doesn’t settle the unexplainable feeling plaguing his nerves, but Dream’s enthusiasm is enough to prompt a soft grin from George. He shakes his head in disbelief as Dream then launches into a speech about all the other possible activities they could do, throwing out even the most far-fetched ideas like paint and sip (absurd, neither drink) or kayaking (yeah, right).
George falls asleep like that, curled into Dream while the younger man continues to draw a story about all the possible adventures they could embark on, worried thoughts temporarily lost to the calming sound of his voice and soothing touch.
They wake up with only a couple hours to spare before George has to leave for the airport and board a red-eye back to England. Neither had really accounted for such a short amount of time, and Sapnap (very politely) asks to monopolize an hour of George’s time because, in his own words, I still exist!, leaving even less time for the lovebirds to spend together.
“Why are you both acting like you’re leaving forever. You’re coming back in a week.” Sapnap says, amusement obvious in his tone.
George picks himself up from the floor where Sapnap had absolutely demolished him in multiple rounds of bullet chess, sighing like the weight of the world is on his shoulders.
“It’s just weird, that’s all. I didn’t think I’d be going back so soon.”
Sapnap nods in agreement, clapping his roommate on the back as he stands up, “Just think of it this way: incredible reunion sex.”
“Oh fuck off Sapnap!” George groans in disgust, shrugging him off while Sapnap bursts into a fit of laughter that could shake the whole house.
“But am I wrong?” He’s clutching his stomach, shooting a knowing look. “What’s that saying? Distance makes the heart…”
George rolls his eyes, finishing it for him, “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.”
“Yeah, that’s it. I’ll even be happy to pay a visit to Karl or Quackity if you guys want your space.” Sapnap is grinning from ear-to-ear but the tone is no longer joking, making George realize with a pang that he means it. He’d accommodate his two best friends by leaving their shared house just so they can have some loud reunion sex.
If you’d told George he’d be having this conversation even just a few months ago he wouldn’t have believed it.
What timeline has he entered?
“Thanks, Sapnap. It’s alright, I’ll want to see you both when I get back.” George moves in to give Sapnap a hug, who readily accepts it. “But maybe the week after that…”
Immediately, Sapnap removes himself from the hug and shakes his head in disbelief, “Ok, ok. Enough already.”
“You’re the one who suggested it!” George exclaims, pointing a finger to his friend’s chest.
“Yeah but, like, you didn’t have to run with it, shit.”
With that, Sapnap scurries to his room, only briefly turning back to make obscene kissing noises into the palm of his hand.
George scoffs but can’t stop from grinning as he yells after him, “Fuck off!”
“Do you have your passport?”
“Yes.”
“Boarding pass?”
“Yes.”
“Toothbrush?”
“Yes, mum.”
“Woah, don’t come to me with your mummy issues.”
Dream twists around in the driver’s seat of the car, a smile plastered to his face but the look in his eyes says something very different. It’s breaking George’s heart.
“Don’t worry, idiot, we’ve triple-checked everything already. I’ll be fine.”
George faces forward in the passenger seat, knowing it’s time for him to get out if he wants to make it through security in time. But his ass may as well be glued to the seat because he suddenly feels like he’s forgotten how to use his legs.
“George.” Dream practically breathes his name, hands lifting to gently cup George’s cheeks, turning his face towards him. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m kicking you out of the car, but you need to head inside.”
“Yeah.” George sighs, leaning forward to press their foreheads together, wondering how the last hour had flown by so quickly.
They’d ended up in the backyard, feet bare on the prickly grass, the humid Florida air soaking into their skin as they sat and stared up at the sky.
They’d talked.
For a whole hour, nothing more.
Really, they deserved an award. They’d kept their conversation civil, only sharing a few chaste kisses here and there but otherwise just relishing in each other’s company and it felt so much like their online dynamic again. It was a welcome reminder that although things had changed between them, they were still just Dream and George, lovers at night, best friends during the day.
And now George was heading back to his childhood home to mingle with family members he didn’t particularly care that much about for a whole week, giving up valuable time he could’ve spent just staring at the sky with Dream or playing chess with Sapnap.
Shit. Dream was right, he really was turning sentimental.
“Ok, I’m getting out now,” George declares, making no moves to get out.
“Ok,” Dream chuckles, pulling away much to George’s dismay.
They just blink at each other for a minute, until Dream finally pipes up again.
“If you get out now, I’ll give you a present.” He opens his door and steps out, leaving George alone in the car, a wave of humidity pressing down on him.
With a groan, George follows suit, trying to come up with some sort of complaint just to whine for the sake of whining when suddenly Dream is there, arms wrapping around his middle, pulling their bodies flush against each other and catching George’s lips in his own.
It’s breathtaking, even though they fumble for a second as they find the right positioning, while George tries to balance himself from the sudden weight around him, arms wrapping around Dream’s neck as he pulls himself ever closer.
And then they find balance, lips perfectly slotted together, gasping a bit as tongues meet and the kiss threatens to turn dirty.
“I love you,” Dream says, pulling his mouth away before things can get out of hand, dotting George’s jawline with short pecks as one hand leaves his waist to tangle in dark hair.
George breathes in slowly as he leans into his best friend — his partner, savoring the softness of the moment. “I love you, too.”
He can hear Dream’s sharp intake of breath and he loves the reminder that the full-body sensation from every touch, every meaningful phrase shared between them isn’t just a one-way street.
“Ok, I’m ready.” George announces, aware he’s going to have to rush to the gate, forcing himself to pull away from the comfort of Dream’s arms.
Dream nods, looking a bit more unsteady than he had in the car as he goes to grab George’s suitcase and backpack from the trunk.
“Call me when you land, alright?”
“Yeah, of course.”
With one final kiss goodbye, George pulls his backpack on and grabs his suitcase, turning his back to Dream and heading inside.
He’s not a sentimental person, so why does he feel suddenly empty?
“George! What the fuck, are you still sleeping?”
There’s a loud pounding, and George isn’t sure if it’s the headache that’s suddenly blooming or something else.
“Have you died or something?”
He opens his eyes at the sound of the unfamiliar voice and incessant pounding, groaning as he turns over in his bed and muttering, “What?”
As the room comes into focus, he sits up with a sudden start.
It’s not just the voice that’s unfamiliar, it’s the entire room.
This isn’t Florida. This isn’t his parent’s house. This isn’t even his cousin’s house.
In fact, he has no memory whatsoever of walking into this room in the first place.
He’s lying on a set of navy plaid sheets, the bed a twin when he’s only ever slept in queens. There are matching navy shades pulled down on a pair of windows, blocking out the bright glare of the sun just beyond, shrouding the white-walled room in darkness. On the bedside table there’s a beat-up alarm clock that looks like it hasn’t been used in ages, and clothes are spilling out of a dresser in the corner without care.
Overall, the room is tiny. He doesn’t want to sound spoiled, but he’s never lived in such a small space.
He sits up a bit more, leaning against the headrest as he reaches for his phone — then drops it because it’s not his iPhone… it’s an Android. He hasn’t had an Android in years.
What the hell is going on with me? He thinks, sinking back down into the security of the bed, grabbing the phone once again and clicking it on.
The wallpaper is an image of him and his sister — what the fuck.
He tries his usual passcode, and all but screams in shock when the phone accepts it.
He has to be dreaming, just a very, very vivid dream.
Dream. Fuck, did he ever text him after his plane landed?
When had his plane landed?
His hands fly up to rub his eyes, the stress of the situation beginning to weigh on him heavily while he tries to remember everything that’s happened since he left Florida.
He’d said goodbye to Dream, rushed to get to security, made it to the gate just as they announced his boarding group, made it onto the plane, took off on time as scheduled, and then…
Nothing.
In complete disbelief, he can’t remember anything that happened after boarding the plane and lifting off.
The logical conclusion might be that he’d passed out. But that still wouldn’t explain how he’d ended up in this strange room.
He picks up the phone again, opening his texts, certain Dream had probably sent a dozen worried messages if he hadn’t sent a text after landing.
But there’s nothing.
In fact, there’s no recent text conversation with Dream. No conversation with Sapnap. When he switches to the Discord app there’s also no conversations. And none of the Discord channels look familiar — in fact, none of his regular channels are there.
But it’s his account.
And this definitely appears to be his phone.
The panic begins to set in, and George is on his feet, rushing around the room while trying to piece together what the hell is going on.
The unfamiliar voice sounds again just then, right outside the door.
“George! I can hear you. What the hell is happening?”
He pulls the door open quickly and is met with an equally unfamiliar face.
“Sorry? Who are you?” George blinks.
The stranger blinks back. And then bursts out laughing.
“The fuck is this bit?”
“Who are you?” George’s voice wavers, a mixture of panic and confusion, and the stranger seems to understand that something is wrong.
“Wait, you’re being serious?” When George doesn’t respond, he continues, “I’m Jamie. You’re George. You’re late for work.”
“Jamie,” George repeats.
“Yes… What’s this called? Amnesia or something, right?”
There’s a thousand questions swimming in George’s head, but all he can come up with is, “What do you mean I’m late for work?”
Jamie pauses, unsure where this situation is headed, “Yeah, you know… your job at Futuralis? You’re a developer?”
George takes a step back, letting go of the door as he shakes his head in disbelief, “No… no that’s not my job.” Jamie ignores him, saying something about calling a hospital as George mumbles on hurriedly, “No, I’m a streamer. I’m… I’m GeorgeNotFound the streamer, my best friends are Dream and Sapnap, I should be in Florida. Actually, I should be at home with my parents for my cousin’s wedding. Why am I here?”
Jamie is looking at him like he’s sure George belongs in a loony bin which George can’t really blame him for because he feels like he belongs in a loony bin.
“Pinch me, Jamie.”
“What?”
“Please, pinch me, I must be having a nightmare. I just want to wake up and go home.”
This was so stupid. He should never have left Florida. Obviously that feeling he’d had wasn’t just uncertainty — maybe there’d been more to it. He just wants to be back in Florida, sleeping the day away with Dream and making dumb jokes late into the night with Sapnap.
He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a sudden punch to his shoulder, causing him to give a high-pitched yelp.
“What the hell?” He asks, rubbing a hand over where he's sure a bruise would be forming.
“You told me to pinch you,” Jamie quips, amused.
“Yeah, pinch, not punch.”
“I don’t know, I was kind of hoping a punch might rattle your brain back together.”
George lets out a long sigh, going back into his room to sit on the edge of his bed. Jamie follows, leaning against the wall by the door.
“Please don’t call me crazy, but I really think I must be dreaming or something. I don’t belong here. This isn’t who I am… I’m not a… developer, I’m a streamer.”
“Uh-huh,” Jamie just narrows his eyes skeptically. “And I’m the Queen of England.”
“I’m serious.”
With a huff, Jamie sets himself on the opposite side of George’s bed, shaking his head. “Ok, I’ll play along. What if I tell you you’re not dreaming? Maybe you’re in an alternate universe or something. You’ve switched bodies! Or minds. I don’t really know how alternate universes work.”
“That can’t be it.” Maybe he’s been kidnapped and Jamie is gaslighting him. But no, that also seems off.
“Well it’s that or you’ve completely gone off your rocker.”
George sucks in a breath, screwing his eyes shut as he tries to keep the panic at bay. “Jamie, tell me something. Do you know who Dream is?”
“Dream… yeah, that sounds familiar. The YouTuber, right?”
For a fraction of a second, there’s light at the end of the tunnel. “Yes, him. Do I know him, in this uh, universe?”
Jamie lets out a hoot of laughter which reminds George a bit too much of Sapnap and he can feel an ache inside him.
“Dream? Definitely not. Wouldn’t that be cool, though.”
And just as quickly as it had come, the light disappears.
The questions are mounting as fast as his confusion, and it all suddenly becomes too much. The dam opens, tears rolling down his cheeks relentlessly as he desperately tries to find his breath, his heart drumming out a rhythm he can’t keep up with.
Jamie tries scooting closer to pat his back but he needs space, and he shoves the stranger off.
He just wants to wake up but this is feeling less and less like a nightmare with every passing second and he has no idea what the hell he’s stumbled into.