Don't Give Up On Me - Dreamnotfound

12

**Edited

Dream woke up with a mild fever. George treated it relatively easily, but he'd still decided to keep Dream in the hotel for the day, which the blonde boy had protested to, obviously.

"George, I'm perfectly fine! If you're not going to bring me, at least go do something yourself!" Dream insisted.

George huffed, not budging at all. "We've been over this already. You're not going outside."

Dream frowned. "Come on, don't stay for me."

"I'm not staying for you. I'm staying because I want to watch Netflix while it rains outside." George interrupted him.

Dream opened his mouth to respond, then shut it again. After a moment, a slow smile cracked over his face.

"You've quite the traveler's spirit." He commented, grinning.

With that, Dream agreed to stay, and George helped Dream to the couch, settling down next to Dream with his laptop sitting on the coffee table.

"What do you want to watch?" George asked.

Dream furrowed his brows, scanning through the selection of shows. Finally, he gave up and gave George a helpless shrug.

"I dunno." He replied. George rolled his eyes.

"Well..." George leaned forwards, inspecting the list of shows more closely. "This one." He selected "Stranger Things".

"Why?"

George only shrugged, and started playing it.

Dream shrugged as well. "Whatever."

George curled up on the couch, hugging his knees to his chest. He felt his breath hitch in his throat when Dream glanced over at him.

"Are you cold?" Dream frowned. "You're shivering."

"I am?" George looked down at himself. He had felt, rather, a flaming, burning sensation on his cheeks.

Dream struggled to reach for a blanket, but it was right outside of his grasp. George quickly stood up and took it, giving it to Dream, but the blonde boy had a stony look on his face.

"What's up?" George asked, sitting down again next to Dream.

Dream kept up his stony demeanor, but finally let his defense down, sighing. "I just- I just feel so useless." He picked at a scab on his thumb to avoid looking at George.

The show they were watching forgotten, George turned to Dream.

"I mean, you're not useless." George objected. "You're still my best friend. You help me cheer up while I'm upset and stuff."

Dream chuckled dryly. "But that's literally it, I can only be a supporter in spirit, not in person."

"Well, I don't really need to have a supporter in person all the time. You don't need to be my everything or whatever. Just be yourself." George reasoned.

Dream folded his arms, refusing to meet George's glance. Finally, George gave up, turning back to the show in defeat.

But he just barely caught Dream's last few whispered words.

"But what if I want to be your everything?"

-

George sat cross-legged on the floor, a map of Paris laid out on his thighs, and he leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees, thinking. Dream was sitting on the bed and was propped up against the far wall, watching George with an indescribable expression.

Was it one of regret? Of confusion? Of sorrow? George couldn't really tell. As far as he knew, Dream thought that George didn't hear what he'd said. But George did, and the words were chasing each other around and around in his mind. Dream sat, regarding George with an intense stare that he didn't seem to realize he was doing. Finally, George looked up, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"What're you thinking?" He asked, scratching his head.

Dream shrugged. "I'm not sure. Just, watching you, you know."

George felt a slight flush rise to his cheeks. Nonetheless, he glanced back down at the map, trying to focus, but he couldn't help feeling Dream's gaze, almost like an itch he couldn't scratch.

"What?" George finally sat back from his map, holding Dream's stare.

"What?" Dream asked, confused.

"Why do you keep staring at me?"

"There's nothing else to do."

George felt his face start to flame. Dream cocked an eyebrow.

"Get me into bed."

George stared.

Dream started to wheeze when he realized how weird his words sounded. "I mean- you know what I mean George."

"Unbelievable." George muttered under his breath, and lifted the blonde boy, who was still shaking slightly from laughter, and tucked him into bed.

He walked over to the bathroom and stared into the mirror, letting the tap run freely, the consistent sound of the water hitting the sink and swirling down the drain playing in his ears. Finally, he cupped his hands under the water and slicked back his hair, then brushed his teeth.

What did Dream mean?

Surely he didn't mean that...

Who knows?

Besides, that would mean that he would be gay, or at least bisexual or pan or something, and I'm straight.

Right?

George almost choked on his toothpaste, and decided the better decision would be to just rinse his mouth out and go to bed.

With Dream.

George coughed. He patted his mouth dry with a towel and walked out of the bathroom.

"Close your eyes." George told Dream, blush still apparent on his face.

Dream did as told, and George hastily changed into his pajamas and slipped underneath the covers next to Dream. He reached out and turned off the lights, making sure to scoot as close to the edge of the bed as possible.

"George." Dream mumbled, voice half asleep.

"Yeah?" George responded.

"You can move closer. We've been over this already, I don't bite. I'm a little cold, anyways."

George grudgingly consented, scooting closer to Dream's slightly feverish warmth. He closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing. George frowned slightly, realizing.

Didn't he say he was cold?

As he was about to fall asleep, George felt Dream drape an arm over his waist, pulling lightly. To his very own surprise, George didn't tense up like he would've expected. Instead, he found himself relaxing, melting into Dream's embrace.

"Don't go." Dream whispered. "It's too dark in my head."

George pretended to be asleep, but he would be lying if he said that the words didn't occupy his mind until he drifted off.