-dnf oneshots-

-is it alright if i smoke?

w: use/mention of drugs

Finally, George could come to America. Both Dream and he had been dying for this moment ever since COVID began, so the travel ban being lifted was the best news they had heard in a while. Almost immediately, George got the first flight out to Orlando. The whole way over he was restless, leg bouncing in his seat and a smile unmoving from his lips, covered by his mask. He had planned to meet Dream at the airport so he could pick him up.

His whole online career, he had claimed to had never seen Dream before, which was completely false. It was all a farce, really, just to mess with his viewers. George had gotten the pleasure of seeing the blond's face a hundred times a day from all the snaps they sent back and forth. Occasionally, Dream would bless him with a full face picture, smile wide, or cheeky look to entice the older man.

Through their online messages back and forth, Dream soon let George in on this practice of his that he kept fairly hidden from others, just because of the stigma around it. To put it simply, Dream was a stoner. Not quite that dramatic, though; he had explained he only smoked when he was tense or wanted to chill out for a while. To his knowledge, only a handful knew about this, including Sapnap and himself. Interestingly, this caught George's attention and intrigued him, so much that he asked about the details of it.

Dream, unable to ignore George's curiosity, would get on calls with him and even FaceTimes to show him the ropes. He was particular, though, about how he took in his weed. First off, he rarely smoked joints because they were a pain in the ass. Second off, he explained after George asked, he hardly ever took edibles because they fucked him up too long. Third off, he had a shelf dedicated to all of his various instruments, as Dream liked to call them.

This shelf, disguised in Dream's room amongst the books and figurines that lined the others, adorned a beautiful glass bong he had shown off to George countless times. Green stained glass lined the bottom with intricate glasswork designs along the body of the bong. A swirl of color danced around the bowl, keeping it fairly minimalistic yet intriguing at the same time. Another favorite of George's was his marbled, black pen with faint sparkles, reminiscent of stars, lining the length of it. When on call, sometimes Dream would hit a few times, but always asked George, "is it alright if I smoke?" even if he was on the other side of the world.

So interested in this side of his friend, he wanted to introduce himself to the same practices. George had smoked before, obviously because he went to college, but never made a habit out of it. Really, he just did it for fun or because he felt odd being the only one sober. When he told Dream he had gone out and bought a pen, his friend was just as interested as he was. Almost immediately he asked to see it, but, oddly afraid of judgment, George insisted he had no clue where it had gone.

Somehow, though, he had managed to sneak it with him onto the plane. It was a little thing with the amber liquid in the twist-on top. The body of it was plain silver, just because George had been so picky to the point that he wanted absolutely bare. He also didn't want to invest in something he wasn't even sure he cared much for.

Finally, the plane landed and George quickly gathered his things to meet Dream. His heart was racing with excitement to see his dearest friend. He could only imagine what was in store for them during their time together. Through his eagerness, he ignored the minor jetlag he was suffering from—this was his first time meeting Dream, he couldn't be feeling off if he wanted to savor every day.

Luggage on his back, George's fingers anxiously played with the hem of his sweatshirt while he looked around for his tall best friend. His eyes darted around the airport, searching every door from where Dream could emerge. There was no way he would be hard to spot—the guy was over six foot for Christ's sake.