𝐐𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦?! | 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟓. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

With the hunters away and the dragon at low health, it only took a few more axe hits to the head to end the game.

[Username] has made the advancement [Free the End]

You sat at the computer, stunned. Regaining fine motor control, you danced around the bedrock portal, now-full, collecting glowing experience orbs as they rained from the dragon's magenta glow.

"NO!" George screamed.

"Good game," Ant sighed.

"Yep, we did our best," Bad agreed.

"GEORGE, you IDIOT! Why did you give her the gunpowder?!"

"Don't yell at me, Sapnap! You gave her the melons! You let her win! Without it, she couldn't have made–"

"–it doesn't MATTER! She couldn't have made splash potions without GUNPOWDER, which YOU GAVE HER!–"

"–Well, she couldn't have–"

"–George should play baseball because he's so good at throwing–"

"SAP–NAP!"

You bent back and stretched, letting out a satisfied sigh and as George and Sapnap volleyed blame back and forth. You rolled your neck with a series of cracks, reveling in the sounds as their conflict raged on. "That was so stressful. I'm glad it's over."

"YES! [Username], you're so, so clutch!" Lifting you out of your digital reverie, Clay shook your shoulder. "Bring it in!"

"Yeah... sure." Briefly, you floundered. This American slang–what was it, and what direction was in? Before you knew it, your earbuds fell on the desk with a thud and Clay had squeezed you in a bone-crushing hug.

"The potions–that was genius! You did it!"

"We did it!" You raised your arms to loop around his neck, beaming. You took the sight in–his eyes twinkled back at you, and his grin dug dimples at the corners of his cheeks. This felt... nice. When was the last time you'd gotten a hug? You could get used to this–the recent triumph of victory bubbling in your stomach, the heat of another human being, and the comfort of physical touch.

"We won! We won, we won, we won, we won..." You singsonged, bouncing up and down. Tucked in his arms, you gave a joyful wriggle.

"Let's go! George, Sapnap, Bad, Ant–you just got destroyed!"

That's right–that's what this was all about. George, Sapnap, Bad, and Ant... got destroyed. In a manhunt with the Dream Team. In which you were a fun little one-time guest. What an opportunity in itself–that should make you happy.

But somehow, a scrap of your triumph sank and disappeared between the cracks. Because after that, sooner than you knew it, you'd get your visa back. You'd hop onto a plane, zip back to a home thousands of miles away, and you and Clay would eventually fall out of contact as real life caught up again... And your time here–a couple months, now–would be a happy memory.

You'd been holding on too long, hadn't you? You didn't want to be weird–you gave a last squeeze, and pulled away.

But maybe through your close proximity, some of your thoughts had reached him, because he held on a little longer. Conscious of the stream as always, he lowered his voice so nobody else would hear. "Hey. [Name], are you okay?"

You gave the best grin you could right now. "What d'you mean? We just won!" The concern in his gaze–its warmth bore down on you. Any other time, you'd bask in it, but you knew that if he looked long enough, he'd see the wavering in your smile. "Now, would you–uh–let go? It's been a while..."

He looked away. From the side, you saw that his smile was fading, too. "Yeah. Sure."

He released you and stepped back.

The two of you stationed yourselves at separate seats. You scooted another inch away.

"We're back!" You snuck a sidelong glance at Clay–posture ramrod straight, he had his headphones firmly over his ears and was staring directly ahead. Hearing Ant's voice, you turned back to your screen.

"I didn't see that coming at all... That might've been the only way you could have won that. [Username], was that planned?"

You sank into your seat, relieved of the tension. "Nope. It was such a crazy coincidence that we'd happened to gather the exact materials needed..." Directing your avatar in aimless parkour on the cratered battlefield, you let the post-game chatter wash over you.

Your eyes flicked to the chat. It scrolled at supersonic speeds with nothing but pogchamps for as far as the eye could see. Scrolling up, you found... maybe a hundred missed donations

caitlin donated $25!

And another one.

"george did... sapnap did... dream, now it's your turn! will you ever go on love or host? also, gg [username]."

Clay shuffled around in his seat. "No, probably not. That's not how I want to look for a relationship." Unbidden, you felt a trickle of relief. Somehow, watching him get Hosted by a hot e-girl in front of hundreds of thousands didn't sit right with you.

Even if the winner chose Love... Your skin prickled with agitation. Together, they'd laugh over a Minecraft date, and Clay would defend them from skeletons, teach them how to speedrun, or, blushing, present them a flower or diamond. They might spend late nights texting or proudly display their playful banter across Twitter timelines. But nobody ever got into a serious relationship over Love or Host, right? Clay deserved something more meaningful. That was why you disapproved. That was the only reason.

"Then what do you want?"

Despite yourself, you perked up. Aside from a conversation that took place weeks ago and quickly changed track, Clay hadn't said much about his love life. Not like it was your business. But you were curious.

"I'm not interested in a relationship right now."

For some reason, a bolt of cold shock ran through you. Why was that such a surprise? Clay had his own life, and maybe he just wasn't into romance or he'd been burned before. It could be any reason.

George seemed to feel it too, because he asked, "You're not? Not at all? Not even–"

"–What, do you think I'm gonna meet the love of my life in quarantine?"

And, he was growing faster than ever on YouTube, and he should capitalize on quarantine, when everyone was forced to stay inside and watch videos or otherwise entertain themselves. He was being smart. Focused. It had nothing to do with you. But what was George going to say before Clay cut him off?

"You did meet [Username]," Bad chirped.

He paused. "[Username] doesn't count."

A stone dropped in your stomach. You didn't count? Of course not–did you think you were "the love of his life?" But why did you almost feel disappointed?

You grinned. "Actually, I do! 1, 2, 3, 4–"

You were virtually one of the boys–the type he'd chase around the house, and game and crack silly jokes with–a weirdo whom he happened to allow to live with him for 3 months and who'd otherwise be a total stranger.

"That was terrible. Shut up."

"Never. MannersNotFound."

And being one of them was perfectly fine, you reminded yourself. Still, you felt as if you were churning away in a whirlpool full of disappointment and confusion at its source. No, you were lucky enough for this past month, and the remaining two ahead. You were lucky. Why wouldn't you be? If you thought it enough times, you might just believe it.

(1224 words)

A/N: hope you enjoyed this obnoxiously friendly chapter.

nobody's jealous. nobody's disappointed. everything is fine. (:

A/N 2: also, this fic reached #1 in sendhelp at some point. disappointed that help has yet to arrive.