Honeydew || dnf

May the Best Man Win

i had a whole schedule for pride month uploads but I graduate tomorrow and I need to get my shit together NOW since ill be at safe grad from 10 pm tomorrow until 6 am and therefore will not be able to write ahhhhh yikes

also! this chapter contains alcohol use with intent to get drunk! these are two adults old enough to drink, and they're doing it in a safe context (together in George's home) so please recognize that! i do not condone unsafe or underage drinking!

TW/CW: eating disorders/anorexia, disordered thinking/guilt, legal alcohol use, plans to get drunk, eating

Previously...

Still, Dream couldn't help but feel a twinge of worry. George was clearly struggling to eat the melon, and he couldn't do much to help.

Honestly, Dream was nervous. Now that Wilbur had left, he was left on his own to help George... and no amount of internet research could prepare him for that. Sure, he was a little more knowledgeable in caring for someone with an eating disorder, but... he was so afraid of messing up, of accidentally saying the wrong thing and making George upset. He was afraid that he would lose George entirely. Dream couldn't bear to think about it.

He just hoped he would be able to make things better. He didn't want to imagine what would happen if he couldn't.

3rd Person P.O.V.

Dream hummed to himself, serving up a large plate of chicken alfredo. He took his plate into the living room, sitting beside George. The bowl was sitting in his lap, looking less full than before. Dream felt a swell of pride, smiling lightly.

"Hey, George," he greeted calmly. "How's the honeydew melon?" The brunette turned to Dream, leaning his head sideways against the couch.

"I had some," he murmured, sporting an unsure half-smile. "It's good."

"Good!" Dream exclaimed, scooping up some pasta and chicken. "I'm glad you liked it. Do you think you could finish the bowl?" George looked uncomfortable, gnawing at the inside of his cheeks for a moment before replying.

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "I can try." Dream nodded, smiling.

"That's good." The conversation between them died as Dream started eating his dinner, eyes glued to the TV in front of him. George's attention was solely focused on the bowl of fruit in front of him, mostly gone but not entirely. He only had a few more pieces before the bowl would be empty.

He stabbed his fork through one of the pieces, hesitantly bringing it up to his mouth. George pretended not to notice Dream's eyes on him as he brought the bite up to his lips, gently nibbling a chunk off the side. He chewed slowly, swallowing before repeating the process. He ate the piece, moving on to another. Dream finished his plate, but George was still working on his. They sat there for a while before George swallowed the last piece, dropping the fork into the bowl with a small nod.

"Done?" Dream wondered.

"Done."

"Nice!" Dream grinned. "I'm really proud of you!" George frowned, glaring down at his lap.

"Why?" He asked. Dream was slightly taken aback by the question, but answered it nevertheless.

"Because you did something that's hard for you."

"Yeah, something I'm supposed to do without being coaxed into it," George grumbled, crossing his arms.

"George..." Dream sighed. "Different people struggle with different things. And lots of people have trouble with food." He pointed out. "So it's not dumb, it doesn't make you weird, and it's not something I take lightly because I understand that you have difficulty with food and I want to support you." George pressed his lips into a thin line, exhaling sharply through his nose. Dream clapped his hands together. "I think we should celebrate."