Talk Fast || DNF

Chapter 2

They don't really talk about it and Dream is incredibly unsure where to go from here. The most surprising part of it all is that they actually sort of, kind of, just barely talk now. George started actually coming home at night, not every night, but sometimes he'll wander in at two or three in the morning instead of returning at sunrise. Now that Dream knows that George is definitely not spending these nights sleeping with people, he can't help but wonder just exactly where he does go, but that's a conversation for another time. George is actually staying home tonight and Dream thinks it's the first time he's ever seen the man work on homework. It's a welcome change.

"How come you never go to parties?" George asks him out of the blue one afternoon, "I always see your team there, but never you."

Dream shrugs, "I dunno, never really interested me. I don't drink and it's never fun to be the only sober person surrounded by drunk idiots. Why? Don't tell me you miss me."

Instead of vehemently denying it the way he assumed, George actually let out a short laugh. It's a nice sound; Dream finds himself laughing along. He doesn't mind doing a little more than just coexisting with George. The man is laid out casually on his bed, laptop in front of him as he types away, only looking up at Dream every now and then as the two of them resort to a comfortable silence. It seems as if George keeps opening his mouth to say something, but decides against it over and over again. The blond almost wants to tell him out with it and by the time he actually works himself up to ask, George beats him to it.

"I have another question."

"Out with it," Dream says with an easy chuckle, crossing his arms as he spins in his chair so his back is to his desk and he faces George.

The man seems to hesitate as a hand comes up and slowly closes his laptop and all his attention is on the blond. There's already a slight dusting of pink on his cheeks and Dream has an inkling this is going to relate to their... conversation. After a moment of heavy silence, George finally musters up the courage to ask the question that is really on his mind. "So, like, with kissing, I just... I've been thinking about this. What the fuck are you supposed to do with your tongue? Like, do you just... move it around? Ugh, that's dumb, this is dumb, sorry, I shouldn't have asked."

Dream can't help but let out a slight laugh, not aiming to make fun of George, purely because the situation is just a little absurd. "Okay, listen, you don't have to be shy with me. I said I'd help, I meant it. We should probably set up some rules though. Number one, you're not allowed to fall in love with me."

"Be serious," George whines, throwing a pillow in Dream's direction. The blond just chuckles as he hits it back, letting the object fall to the floor. "Okay, rules, you aren't allowed to fall in love with me. And we tell no one, no matter what."

"I am not going to fall in love with you," he retorts lightheartedly, "It's you, I'm worried about, it's hard not to fall for me. I've been told I'm devilishly handsome."

George glares at him, responding without missing a beat, "They lied."

"Wow. Fine, maybe I won't teach you how to kiss then. I'll just leave you to fend for yourself like a horny high schooler at prom."

"That doesn't even make sense."

"Do you want me to show you what to do or not?" Dream exclaims, trying to bite back his grin and failing miserably. George groans, but nods, so the blond motions in his direction, "All right, come over here and find out, then."

The brunet rolls his eyes at the other's demanding attitude, but he stands up from the bed nonetheless. He walks over to face Dream, crossing his arms with an expression that seems to ask ' now what?'. He keeps the other on his toes for a moment before grabbing George around the waist and pushing him onto his lap. George stumbles, catching onto Dream's shoulders to stabilize himself while shooting the blond an unimpressed glare.