Chapter Text
He wasn’t small by any means. In fact, being 6’2 he could probably body any of them in a 1v1. But that didn't stop George, a boy that barely scraped 5’9, from smirking down at his crumpled form on the floor, having just been thrown against the lockers from one of his lackeys.
“Had enough?”, George knelt down, dissipating the height advantage he’d had for a split second. Dream looked away, refusing to look him in the eye.
“What's wrong Clay? Still, hate the name your mom gave you?-” Wilbur chimed in from George’s side. Scanning through the blur of faces, he could briefly make out Karl’s multicoloured hoodie. The pair locked eyes, Karl giving a pleading apology whilst a burning pain spread up Dream’s side. He turned back to face George.
“Always a pleasure to see you, Gogy”. He allowed himself a moment of victory at the taunting, before George’s foot connected with his abdomen, sending a fresh wave of pain through his body. ‘Worth it', he thought to himself.
Just as another blow was about to be landed, the bell rang. The crowd began to dissolve through the hallway, leaving Dream slumped against the lockers, breathing in ragged breaths. He allowed himself a minute to collect himself before standing up dragging himself to his next lesson.
-
The teacher grumbled a ‘late’ as he entered the classroom.
he ignored it, and took a seat at his desk, letting his head thump down on the table. The rest of the lessons went on unproblematic, except for the person sitting behind him continuously kicking the leg of his chair. But he figured it was easier to ignore it than make a scene.
Sapnap approached him as he was packing up his books, his eyebrows downturned and furrowed, concern evident on his face.
“I’m fine” Dream said before he had the chance to voice his opinion.
“I don’t see why you can’t just fight back. You’re practically twice his height”. Dream rolled his eyes at the blatant exaggeration and threw his backpack onto his shoulder. He sent Sapnap a clear ‘I don't want to talk about it’ look, and began to walk to his next class.
He only had a handful of friends, meaning he was forced to have tense, uncomfortable conversations with the people who barely spared a glace as he was thrown into the nearest wall. Most people avoided being near him, let alone talking to him. He was lucky he’d known Sapnap since childhood since a part of him feared he would’ve had the same reaction the majority of the school did when seeing him.
His lack of popularity stemmed from George’s hatred of him, for reasons he still didn’t know. But he does know that practically every student worships the ground he walks on. Dream isn’t blind, he knows people are starving for George’s looks and thick British accent. Putting aside the constant bullying and even Dream could agree that he’s attractive. His chocolate brown hair frames his face in a way that makes him seem docile, delicate even. A complete 180 from his venomous personality.
Sighing, he sat down in his chair. He sat right next to the window, making it easy for him to lose focus in class. Bad, the boy who often wore a black hoodie which covered the majority of his face, occasionally made the effort to tap Dream on the shoulder, forcing his attention to come back into the classroom. With nothing to do but pay attention, he’d begin tapping his pen against the table. He could tell it annoyed Bad, but the latter was too nice to do anything about it. And in all honesty? Dream didn’t care. However, after about 40 seconds, a familiar chocolate-haired boy turned around, sporting a frown similar to Bad that made Dream want to punch them both in the face.
Bad was neither good nor bad, in Dream’s opinion. He just had an extremely punchable face, and an annoying tendency to mutter ‘language’ anytime a swear word would leave anyone’s mouth. For the most part, he was good company and seemed to have anything you could possibly need, scattered around the school building. Hidden away in whatever small compartment you could possibly find. Like a molerat ,Dream thought to himself. As for George, however, Dream would do anything to see his eyes covered in a matching set of black and blue bruises.
“Can you stop doing that? It’s annoying”, George said, gesturing towards the pen still tapping against the desk. Although, his tone made it seem more like a demand rather than a request.
“No.”, Dream said, a sickly sweet smile dancing at his lips.
George puffed out an annoyed breath of air before turning back to face the teacher. Although Dream knew his little ‘act of defiance' wouldn’t go unpunished, he still allowed himself to smile at his second victory of the day before turning his attention back to the window.
The rest of the lesson went by without a problem.
-
As usual, Dream was sat in the library after school, waiting for Sapnap to finish his football practice. Their coach had tried to coax Dream into joining the team, seeing as he had seen him helping Sapnap with practising after school every so often. His broad shoulders, tall frame and large palms would naturally give him a larger advantage yet he found he preferred to cheer from the sidelines. Less gawking eyes and nameless faces probing to talk to him.
He was deeply emersed in a book, when a shadow suddenly loomed over him, blocking out all the natural lights from the limited windows the library had. He was about to ask whoever it was to kindly fuck off, but the words died in his mouth as George was peering over him, clearly judging the book in his hands.
“Suicide notes? Kind of morbid, don’t you think?” George asked, making no move to leave or sit down.
“You know, if I didn't know any better I’d say you seem a bit obsessed Georgie.”, Dream said, smirking at the other. They were the only two in the library, save for the few students scattered around. No Wilbur. No group of people practically grovelling at George’s feet.
George ignored his comment, plucking the book from his hands and turning it to read the blurb. Dream sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing with the latter.
“Stalking is considered a criminal offence, you know?” Dream murmured under his breath. This got George attention as protested before the full sentence even left Dream’s mouth. Dream just turned to face him, amused at the boy's quickly-reddening cheeks. He gave an ‘mhm’ in return, showing he didn’t believe him in the slightest.
Assuming the conversation was over, Dream took his book back and resumed reading. After a few moments, he notices the shadow still made no effort to move, so he glanced up again, catching George staring straight at his face. Their sudden eye contact caused George to look away. Just as Dream was about to make him grovel in his embarrassment, Wilbur practically stormed into the room.
“There you are!”, Wilbur exclaimed, not even bothering to address Dream. He grabbed George and began towing him out of the room, grumbling about how he should just ignore Dream when he tries to talk to him. Dream was about to correct him, seeing as George was the one who initiated the conversation but the pair were already gone by the time he had processed what happened. Weird.
Ten minutes later Dream got a text from Sapnap telling him to meet him at the front of the school. Sapnap came out a moment later, still in his football kit. Dream feigned disgust when the raven-haired boy practically tackled him into a hug, almost sending the pair of them to the ground. They shared one more laugh before piling into Sapnaps car. The backseat’s interior was barely recognisable, seeing as it was practically drowning in random takeaway bags and clothes. Dream ignored it, climbing in and throwing the shirt on the front seat into the newest pile of clothes in the back.
The whole drive home was spent with Sapnap singing off-key to whatever song was playing on his Spotify. Anytime Dream would complain at his screeching singing he would simply turn the music up louder, and act as if he hadn’t heard him.
Minutes later they were outside Dreams house. He said a quick bye before leaving the car, ignoring the kissy faces Sapnap made as he went inside, but still smiling at his antics.
-
“Oh Clay~”, the familiar sing-song tune of Wilbur could be heard. Great, same shit every. Single. Day.
“Hey, Wilbur almost didn't recognise you. New shirt?” Dream returned, rolling his eyes as he made his way to his locker. Of course, Wilbur was practically at his heels. “Just wanted to let you know to stay away from George,” he said once Dream stopped. Dream faced him, one eyebrow raised in an ’ Seriously? Are you kidding me'. Wilbur feigned innocence, raising his palms in front of his chest in mock surrender.
“Just warning you, wouldn’t want your sister to get hurt. Drista, was it? I heard she’s good friends with my younger brother, Tommy.” That instantly grabbed his attention, seeing as he made it one of his priorities to make sure Drista had no involvement in Wilbur and George’s fun. Seeing as she had the majority of her lessons in a separate part of the building to him, it was easy to make sure she was never there, and her never-ending list of afterschool activities made sure they were practically never seen together.
“I don't want anything to do with George, he’s the one who came up to me yesterday” Dream seethed back. Grabbing his books from his locker, he slammed the door shut and paced away, leaving Wilbur standing there.
-
Computer science was by far one of Dreams favourite subjects he took. It was easy for him to get lost in coding, and their teacher usually left them to work separately meaning he didn’t have to pay attention to jumbled words spurring out of the teacher's mouth for the next hour and a half. Perfect.
Usually, he’d prefer to tackle more mind stimulating problems, but for today he chose to make some small Minecraft plugins to play later with some of his friends. Most of them were really simple, only taking ten to twenty minutes each, but he somehow found himself stuck on coding his Minecraft character into a dog. What should’ve only taken him 25 minutes to complete has almost taken him 35. He leaned back in his chair groaning to himself. When his eyes opened again he found George staring. He quickly sat back up and turned to face his computer.
He felt the (surprisingly) familiar shadow looming behind him, “What do you want, George?”. The other turned to peer at his computer. “Minecraft?” He muttered, more to himself rather than Dream. Dream felt the heat spreading across his face, embarrassment creeping up his skin. He was waiting for the string of taunts from George, but he seemed more intrigued than condescending. He stood peering at the screen from behind Dream for a few more moments before turning to face him again as if he had woken up from a trance. He bent down to be head-level with Dream before whispering “Line 24, there’s a syntax error” into his ear and walking back to his seat. Dream watched, slightly dumbfounded then turned to his work. Sure enough, he had misspelt the entity’s name.
-
During lunch, Karl, Quackity and Sapnap had been going on about a party, which he apparently had to go to. Definitely not. Eventually, he got tired of the boisterous energy, wanting a calm atmosphere instead. That’s what lead him to the back wall of the school building. Most people don’t go back there, because of the overgrown weeds threatening to drag them down to the floor. But there’s a shed that’s always unlocked that Dream likes to go to whenever he needs peace. It’s specifically for him, he doesn’t even bring Sapnap back there. That’s why he’s confused to find George sitting on one of the stools, a lit cigarette in his hand and a discarded SpongeBob lighter sitting on an upturned bucket.
“Put that out!”, Dream half-whispered, half-shouted. George rolled his eyes but put it out either way, whilst pointing out the fact that there’s no one else around. George allowed his shoulders to sag, and closed his eyes, ignoring Dream’s presence entirely. It was ironic, considering George has continuously been the one looming in behind Dream lately.
Dream realised he had been standing there staring like an idiot, and turned to the door to leave again. A sudden ‘Wait!’ had him freeze though. He turned to George, who seemed surprised at his own burst. “Um- I just meant you can stay you know? Since you’re usually here”. Dream took up the invite, sitting on the spare stool next to George’s, pulling his book out from his bag.
After a moment of reading, a sudden question sprang to his mind. “How did you know I come here?” Dream asked, facing George, whose neck was craned to the side slightly as if he was trying to read Dream’s book without imposing. He looked back, with wide eyes and scratching the back of his neck. “I just saw you come back here once or twice.” Dream was sceptical but left it at that. He turned back to his book, angling it so George could read it slightly better.
George read slightly slower than him, he realised. Sometimes when Dream went to turn the page George would sit up slightly straighter, his spine going rigid. It was obvious he hadn’t finished the page, so Dream turned back to the previous page, waiting until his body went slack before turning the page.
The rest of their lunch was spent in comfortable silence. No words were spoken, they were simply existing in each other’s presence. The muffled sound of a distance school bell lifted them from their haze. They collected their things in silence, Dream sending a pointed look when George went to retrieve his lighter. They left together, but also not. George waited a few moments before walking out, seeing as it would look strange to anyone who knew of their common hatred for each other.
‘What the hell am I doing’, Dream thought to himself as he left the shack George trailing behind him slowly.
-
For the next two consecutive days, Dream entered the shack at lunch to be greeted with George sitting there, ready and waiting for the book. His lighter wasn’t out, and there was no faint odour of cigarettes, so he was thankful for that. As usual, he put his stuff down and got out his book. They had just finished Suicide notes and begun a new book. He could tell George wanted to say something since he kept fidgeting with his hands. It was weird, Dream was beginning to notice small things about George.
“Are you going?”, George asked Dream out of nowhere. He probably looked as confused as he felt since George reprimanded himself under his breath. “To the party today- Wilbur’s party” he clarified. Seeing as Dream only knew someone was holding a party, and everyone and anyone was invited he was originally against it. But after learning it was Wilbur’s party? That’s a definite no. No way in hell.
Since his and George’s joint reading began, the latter seemed to refrain from physical punches. However, he made up for it with his verbal assault. Usually, it was Wilbur delivering the violent blows to his body. Honestly, he’d rather it was George. Even though it seems to be a (friendly?) gesture, George’s punches were significantly weaker than Wilburs and took less than a day to heal. Whereas Wilbur’s would stay for days, leaving his entire body throbbing.
“No,” he said, turning his focus back onto finding their current book. He made sure to refrain from reading it when he wasn’t in the shack seeing as it would leave George with gaps in the plot, and he didn’t enjoy rereading the pages whilst in the middle of reading the book. It would only confuse him. George whispered an ‘Oh’, and shuffled in place, getting more comfortable as he readied himself. Any kind of tension quickly dissipated, leaving them back in their comfortable silence.
-
Dream got home feeling exhausted. He had PE for his last lesson, resulting in him practically collapsing as soon as his head hit his pillow. Too lazy to change, he let himself fall asleep.
He woke up at 2 AM with his head feeling as if it was throbbing. After a moment he managed to collect himself. A rhythmic pattering was coming from his window, which confused him since there were no signs of rain. He opened the window to have a small pebble hit him in the centre of his forehead. Knowing Sapnap went to the party he was about to yell at him to go home. But seeing the small figure barely able to keep himself upright, he realised it was George.
His confusion only increased as he practically ran to the front door, still weary to make sure he didn’t wake his parents. He opened the door to find George leaning on the porch column. Upon seeing the blond he practically sprang to his feet. “Dream!” he tried to shout, but Dream immediately covered his palm over his hand, muffling his words. “Why didn’t you come to the party?”, he asked Dream, words still coming out muffled. His eyes were pleading, and he looked so innocent it was laughable. Dream just shook his head to himself and began guiding George upstairs.
He gave George his shoulder to use as a crutch, slinging his arm around his shoulder for balance. They almost made it to the top without a hitch, but when Dream looked up he was face to face with his sister. She was clearly confused seeing the barely-conscious Brunett practically hanging off of Dream’s arm. “I’ll give you $10 to ignore this?” Dream said, motioning to George. His sister turned her gaze to him, then back to George. “$15”, she challenged. He sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to win their back and forth. He nodded, and she turned around, clearly grinning ear to ear and walked back to her room, quietly shutting the door.
He got George onto his bed and made sure he was laying on his side, in case he vomited. “Stay here,” Dream said, before going to the kitchen quickly to grab a glass of water for George. He returned to his room to find George in the same position he left him in, albeit his shirt sprawled on the floor. “Got hot”, he explained when Dream picked up his shirt. He nodded and left it on his bedside table, alongside the cup of water and some paracetamol for George.
“Dr’m?”, George said after a minute of silence. Dream made an affirmative sound, waiting for George’s response. A beat passed, and Dream assumed George fell asleep. “M’ sorry” he slurred, before letting himself fall asleep.
Seeing as George had his bed, Dream opted to work on some homework he had been procrastinating on, seeing as he didn’t think he’d be getting any more sleep tonight. He sighed to himself, picking up his maths textbook.
-
Dream’s alarm sounded at 7:30. He groaned to himself, whilst sitting up. That was when he realised he fell asleep at his desk, and George- oh. George was gone. His bed was empty, but the water and paracetamol were both gone, and Dream realised George’s shirt was still there?
He didn’t question it though, just moved it out the way. A post-it note was being sandwiched between the cup and bedside table. Dream picked it up and read it.
‘Thanks for last night
-G’