Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I’ll have an espresso please.”

That was your first impression.  Your fingers found themselves tracing the strap of your purse, slowly inhaling the comforting yet sickening smell of coffee beans and vanilla.  It was marred with the faded essence of people and ended conversations.

But only one person in particular caught your eye that evening.  Well, evening was a generous description.  It was actually 23:34 on a Tuesday- an absurd hour to be out at a coffee shop, you mused.  Although, you had your reasons. 

There were only about 4 others in the shop, reading or clicking away on shiny laptops.  All the more reason why your attention was drawn to this particular stranger, who stood rather plainly in line in front of you.  

You tried to encourage your eyes somewhere else: the fake leaves above the chalkboard menus, perhaps the industrial-looking lights that all played into what you thought was a bit forced of a charming aesthetic.  But to no avail, for your eyes seemed to have a mind of their own, always seemingly landing on his chocolatey raven hair.  

It looked a bit greasy, untamed but short enough to get away with.  You’d only seen him from the front for a moment but his tousled locks had made your cheeks warm.  You were always soft for things like that.

“Ma’am?” You were snapped out of your idiotic daze in an instant, placing your order as though you’d done it a million times (which you probably had).  As the first words fell from your mouth, however, the corner of your eye caught a turn from the handsome guy.  Or, as they say in England, bev .  You chuckled at your mind’s painful attempt to adopt the local accent.  

Anyway, as you waited for your beverage you couldn’t help but steal a peek at him.  Brown eyes.

Second impression.  

You exchanged bills and swung to survey the shop, ponderously admiring the patterned latte cupped in your warm hands while stealing glances.  But your mind was aflutter.

He’d selected a seat by the window, a bar with a vacant seat on either side.  He’d placed his rather heavy looking backpack on the seat to his right, swiftly powering up a laptop with more wires attached than you could count.  

You could sit next to him, a part of you thought.  But of course those childish fears filled your head- what if he’s uncomfortable?  What if I come off as aggressive?

In the time you’d taken to go sift through your thoughts, he’d put on airpods only making you more reluctant to approach him.  But something in the pit of your stomach propelled you forward, and you eventually took a seat one away from him- a good compromise.  

You didn’t bring a laptop, as you hadn’t intended to work but your phone was a good enough tool for distraction.  The temptation of putting on music was present, but you opted instead to simply listen to the passing snippets of conversations and quiet hum of the coffee machines whilst sipping your drink.  

Your eyes kept themselves lowered, although no part of you ignored the expresso haired boy to your right.  He was typing quickly on the keyboard, thoughtful and soft as though it were like breathing.  You wondered what his ksp was.

Now the question was- how would you start a conversation with this curious stranger?  Perhaps the old “oops i spilled my coffee” trick?  No, too messy- not to mention obvious.  

Twitter opened on your phone screen, and mindless scrolling followed.  Every now and then you snuck glances at what was displayed on his laptop screen- for the last 10 minutes or so it had been lines and lines of code, until suddenly he clicked over to twitter.

Your eyes took a risk peering this long out of curiosity, but you couldn’t help them widening when you saw the message resting at the top.

1M unchecked notifications 

500,000 mentions

100,000 new followers

“Are you famous?” The words spilled out of your mouth before you could think.  The boy immediately turned and gave you a curious look, removing an airpod.  

“Wot?”  His accent sounded like honey in your ears, and although you were used to it after living here for a while the way he uttered the syllable, as through it were an exhale…

Heat rose to your face, realizing your predicament.  Your fingers gripped your coffee as you cleared your throat. 

“Um, sorry, I just… “  You brought your eyes to his open tab, which he followed, “That’s a lot of notifications.” 

To your delight, he chuckled.  You let out a sigh, drinking in the adorable way his eyes crinkled at the corners and eyebrows rose as he let out a soft and high giggle.  

“Erm.. what would give you that idea?” humor sparkled in his eyes, and it took you a minute to pick up on the sarcasm.

When you didn’t respond, he pressed, “Would you like a photo?” 

Photo?  Did he think you knew who he was?

You mouth dried as you realized he’d misunderstood the situation.

“Oh!  Um, well you see… I don’t quite know who you are,” you stammered.  His eyebrows raised a bit, and perhaps it was your lonesome imagination but you saw a soft pink bloom across his face.

“As in… um…”  You didn’t want to admit to having spied on his laptop screen, but it seemed you had no choice.  “I just say your notifications.  I’m sorry, that seems creepy…  it probably is creepy.”  You sucked in a breath, before his smiling expression allowed you to let out a chuckle.  

“Oh, no that’s fine,” he laughed, “I’m just used to… you know, being recognized in public.  Probably why I don’t go out much!” 

You giggled again, noticing the patterns in his expressions and hinting on a tinge of disappointment in that last phrase although it was heavily masked in humor.

“Wow, didn’t know I was speaking to a celebrity!”  Your pathetic attempt at a joke softened the air, and suddenly it seemed as though you were simply sitting at a cafe speaking to an old friend.  Despite him being a stranger, and apparently a famous one at that. 

“So, what do you do?  Acting, singing...?”  You tried to imagine him in those professions- he certainly had the looks for them, that’s for sure.

He looked down embarrassedly, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Erm, well...I make videos and stream, on twitch.” 

“Oh, twitch!  Yeah, that’s awesome!”  In reality you only had a vague idea of what the application was.  It could be an adult site for all you knew.  “What do you do on there?”

His embarrassed blush deepened.  “I play minecraft.”  

“Oh!  Fun!  What sort of stuff?”  At your genuine interest he seemed to perk up, looking you in the eyes for the first time since your awkward interaction.  The space between you seemed to lessen despite the empty seat, and your sweaty palms loosened from your cup.  

“Well I make videos on YouTube with my friends, challenges and stuff.”  Even though you were only loosely interested in the subject, the way his eyes sparkled and voice lightened when explaining made you want to listen for hours.  

You rested your chin on your propped up arm as he continued, “Speedruns and that sort, we have this one series that’s really popular.”  He was a bit too vague for you to latch on to, your knowledge of minecraft youtubers wasn’t great but wasn’t nonexistent.  

“What’s the series?”  

He seemed a bit reluctant but answered, “Minecraft Manhunt, it's by my friend Dream.”  

“Oh, I know Dream!”  Of course you’d heard of him; he was all over twitter, plus you had the luck of having gone through a YouTube phase earlier through lockdown here in London.  

He hid his emotions well, but the slight fall in his expression made you hesitant to continue “fangirling”.

“Um, so do you live down here in London?”  A stupid question really, anyone going to a cafe around here must be a local.  

“Yep, just around here actually.”  The second he said that he looked around cautiously.  Right, he’s famous.  He can’t just go around announcing his address.   “And you?”

You were flattered that his highness, friend of Dream gave a damn about your comparingly uninteresting life.  It made your cheeks tingle the slightest bit.

“Oh, I’m attending university here!  Well, not here specifically, but since the lockdown it’s been virtual so I rented out an apartment.”

“Ah, I see.  I figured you weren’t from here, the accent and all.”  Your shyness about your un-english accent came through, but he said it almost like a compliment that it made the corners of your mouth rise.  

You laughed, “Well, I must say you have a lot… less of an accent compared to everyone else here.”  

“Probably from hanging out with Americans almost 24/7.  Changes your speech I guess.”  The way he pressed more of an English accent on the response, and gave such a clear cut answer made you feel as though perhaps he was a bit… insecure about it.  Guess you had that in common. 

“Well, I think it’s nice.”  

His cheeks once again gained a rosy hue, and you assumed yours did the same as you directed your gaze to the dark street past the glass.  It’d begun to rain, the sight of which sending a chill down your spine.   

“So, if you don’t mind me asking,” you began, “Why at a coffee shop at this hour?”  

His chuckle immediately warmed you up from the inside.  “Well, I haven’t much of a sleep schedule at the moment, streaming and all.  Plus I have to fit my friends’ timezones, so… this is honestly just me trying to get out before I’m cooped up editing for the rest of the day.” 

You hummed in agreement, noticing the intent in his eyes as he studied the outside view, and raindrops racing on the floor-to-ceiling windows.  “And you?”

“Oh, um, sort of the same I suppose.  College, you know- “normal” doesn’t really exist.”  

“Ah, I know all about that.  Glad I made it out of that shithole,” he scoffed, gaze never faltering. 

“What did you study?”  Your curiosity was genuine, and so was your reluctance to let go of the conversation. 

“Computer science.”

“Should’ve guessed,” you nodded towards his screen which was now once again plastered with codes.  “Any interesting projects?”  At this point you felt like you were prying, but he never showed any sense of annoyance so you pressed on.  Perhaps he just wasn’t a conversationalist- wait, no- he played video games for a living.  He definitely wasn’t a conversationalist. 

And jackpot, his caramel eyes once again lit up.  In a swift motion you almost missed, he jumped seats so that he was next to you.  You stiffened at the sudden closeness but immediately softened as he pulled his laptop between the two of you so that you could see.  

“I’m actually coding a plug-in that will allow the player- in, er, minecraft- to teleport, but everytime they do so they divide their health in half.  In the game you have only 10 heart of health-” 

You scoffed humorously.  “I’ve played minecraft before!  I know what health is,” to which he responded by a nervous giggle.

“Alright alright, sorry!  So anyways, you know endermen?  It essentially transforms the player into one of those with a bunch of restraints.  Like, your vision is like really blurred and dark, plus rain kills you super fast.”

The lines of code that he flipped through looked absolutely foreign to you, but you nodded along, his fascination contagious.  Although you were easily distracted, for example by his hands… shamefully wondering how they’d look wrapping around yours…

You shooed away the thoughts.  It’d been too long since you’d felt any sort of real romantic feelings, that you’d forgotten how to catch and control them. 

But he kept speaking, ideas weaving in and out like he was creating a world in his mind and allowing you a glimpse.  You were so lost in the slur of his words that something suddenly occurred to you.

“Wait!” You interrupted, earning an eyebrow raise and side glance that gave you butterflies.  “I just realized, I haven’t learned your name.”  

“Oh,” he laughed wholeheartedly.  “It’s George.”

You responded with your name.  

“Pleased to meet you, George.”

Chapter Text

Your conversation lasted a while.  It felt so natural, although you’d forgotten what actually talking to people felt like.  Even your flustered feelings took a backseat, allowing your laughs and George’s explanations to fill the air of the almost-empty coffee shop.

By the time one of you drew attention to the time, it was almost 2:00.  

“One forty-eight?  We’ve been chatting for almost 2 hours!” You mused, a tad frightened that he would take it to mean that you were looking to leave which couldn’t be further from the truth.  If you were honest with yourself, you’d spend the rest of the new day sitting in that bar stool seat with now-cold coffee talking with this intriguing stranger. 

“Yeah, sorry.  I could talk about that stuff for hours,”  he said shyly.  

“I know that feeling.  And… “ you took a risk, “I could listen for hours.” 

“Yeah?”  There was that flirty side glance again that drove you insane.  He knew what he was doing, he had to.  

“Well it beats playing Minecraft for hours and hours on end- although I suppose anything would,” he chuckled as he stretched his arms and fingers, prompting you to do the same.  “Still, this was a nice break.  Something different I guess.”  

“Yeah, same,” you agreed, playing with your fingers.  You briefly got up to throw away your coffee cup, stretching your stiff legs at the opportunity.  The cafe was empty now, save for a barista in the back.  You heard shuffling as George began slowly packing away his millions of wires.

And you looked at him.  The curve of his jaw, the chocolate hair that looked almost jet black in the dim lighting.  His creamy skin and long eyelashes which you hadn’t noticed until now.  

He wore a simple T-shirt and simpler jacket, over loose jeans.  The world was so unjust, allowing someone dressed like that to possibly look so handsome.  

You returned to your seat, settling down.  It was the awkward moment between trying to tear your heart away from wanting to stay, and the temptation of asking for more.

Should you ask for his number?   That would be… perhaps a bit forward.  You’d called him a stranger before, despite feeling now as though you’d known him for an eternity.  But friend was far from accurate- no, you were flirting on the border of acquaintance but not quite.  

Still, the chances that you’d see each other by chance like this were slim, especially if he went out as little as he claimed.  

And then another anxious thought crept up your spine as you scrolled through twitter (trying your best to avoid looking up “george - dream - minecraft”.  

Is he single?  What if he’s dating someone?

Your stomach sank.  You’d never really met anyone famous, forget having a 2 hour conversation with one.  If his twitter notifications meant anything, it’s that he was popular- and more so than he’d modestly admitted to being.  

Among his fans had to be someone more beautiful, more intelligent, more interesting- 

“Hey, erm, are you leaving?  I can walk you- if you’d like of course.”  

Suddenly all your thoughts melted away at the way he stammered through that sentence, and then immediately blushed. 

“Wait, erm, that sounds bad.  I meant, it’s dark so if you’d like I can accompany you, not in a creepy way or anything-”

“Sure,” you said, as sweetly as you possibly could, pouring in all of the genuine gratitude and relief you felt.  His smile was enough to make you feel as though you were floating. 

And so, you once again swung the small purse over your shoulder, buttoning up the soft cream coat you wore and bracing yourself to enter the cold outdoors. 

“Thank you!” You waved to the barista on their phone in the back, not expecting a response as you held the door for George.  

The barely lit street and cozily towering buildings engulfed the two of you in darkness.  Neither of you had an umbrella, but it was only drizzling.  Still the wind was quite annoying, but as you’d learned early on in your move this was just England. 

For a moment you walked in silence, until you let out a sigh.  “One thing I’ll never get used to is this weather,” you joked.  

“Another reason I never leave my room!”  he shouted over the roaring wind.  It was hard to sustain a conversation with the breezes, so you moved closer to him and his warmth.

“I feel like you’re exaggerating.  Like, cmon I’m sure you leave your house once in a while!” 

“Does once a month count?”  You laughed, a part of you knowing he probably wasn’t lying.  “Only when my mum forces me to get groceries.” 

So he still lives with his mum.  You found that charming, even cute.  But from the slight regret in his voice it seemed like he wished he’d kept it to himself, which hurt your heart. 

“So how far is your place?”  You were so tempted to just tell him to leave you here so you could walk the rest, since you were perfectly capable.  But this display of chivalry, as before had demonstrated, seemed to give him a bit of confidence which you wouldn’t take away even if it killed you.  And plus, it was working- you were charmed. 

“A few more blocks,” you said truthfully, drawing a hand over your eyes to see through the thickening rain.  “How far is yours?”  

“A bit further than yours I think.” 

He obviously valued privacy, that was clear to you.  Probably since being in the public must be a constant test of that- you could never do it.  Still, you appreciated that he tried his best to keep your address out of the conversation, even though in reality you didn’t mind in the slightest.  Sure, walking alone with a man you’d just met was… risky, to say the least, but you trusted him.  Truly, genuinely. 

You checked the time wettening your phone screen in the process: 2:21.

Opening your phone reminded you- this could- no, would- be the last time you spoke to this man unless you exchanged some kind of contact information. 

And perfect timing, you’d just arrived at the crosswalk right in front of your apartment complex.  

“I can walk the rest of the way!  Home is just over there,” You gestured across the deadly quiet street.

You both stopped, sharing a moment that would be quiet if not for the roaring wind in your ears.  

Water slicked George’s hair down so that it almost covered his eyes, raindrops like crystals on his eyelashes.  

You took the risk.

“I really enjoyed getting to know you, George.”  His name sparkled on your tongue like pop rocks, and you bit your lip knowing he could barely see you in the rain.  But if he could, he’d see the rose blush all over your cheeks. 

“Erm, same here,” he returned with a smile.  Another few heartbeats passed.

“Would you like to, maybe, do this again?”  It was out, your emotions on the table like playing cards.  “If you want to, of course.”  

“Sure, yeah.  Yeah, that sounds nice,” he responded, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

“Awesome!  I mean, great.  Sounds good.”  Your turn to be the stuttering mess.

Exchanging numbers was challenging in the pouring rain, but you got it done.  And when you parted with a simple goodbye, you headed back with a smile at knowing that pressed against your heart and stored in the depths of your phone was the contact of the cutest boy you’d ever met. 

Who was, apparently, famous.  

But you’d see about that. 

Chapter Text

Turns out, he was.  Famous, that is. 

The moment you stepped through the door frame, you stripped off all your soaked clothing and settled in a soft pair of pajamas in bed.  Your laptop opened itself and you popped on headphones blocking out the obnoxious rain outside.  

Although you were probably supposed to be tired, your mind was going a million mph.  The time plastered on your laptop illuminated the room.  Your classes began in about 5 hours- plenty of time for a nap after you’d completed what you needed to.  

First you opened up your phone, just to double check that the coffee shop boy- George- ‘s contact was actually saved and wasn’t just a vivid hallucination.  

There it was, clear as day.  George.  Your insides were sent a flutter again at the image of him looking at your name in the same way you did his.  And despite being nothing but a fantasy, butterflies still flew about your stomach.  

Next: research.  Your fingers flew to the keyboard, arriving at twitter and the humble search bar that rested atop it.  

It only took you a minute to find him- @GeorgeNotFound.  George .  Followers: 89.3K.  Joined December 2014.

Latest tweet: “I’m starting a collection D:” with a photo of two shiny silver youtube plaques and one gold one. 

You knew it was stupid, but you felt your cheeks heat scrolling at his achievements.  This boy was successful all right, and pouring through his other tweets only expanded your admiration.  Associating with people like MrBeast, Dream of course, Wilbur Soot, even Belle Delphine?

Who is this guy?  

You’d almost couldn’t believe it was the same shy person from the cafe at all- as if Dream had another best friend named George.  It was like two different people. 

That is until you spotted a picture of him in the mentions. 

Yep, that was him alright.  Coffee bean hair, blinding smile, dark brown eyes.  He was laughing in the picture, and it seemed strange and almost intrusive to stare at him so voraciously having just interacted with him in real life.  It felt like he’d come alive and avert his gaze any moment.  

On the other hand, this version of him- the one tethered to a computer screen and seen by probably millions- it looked… freer.  Happier, even.  You didn’t know why you thought that, but something in the energy he exuded from his tweets and clips of his videos was so drastically different from his shyness when he’d been with you.

One thing was for sure, he had a relationship with his audience and friends that allowed this side of him to shine.  You navigated to YouTube, finding his channel and selecting video after video.  His mannerisms through a camera were so different from the withdrawn yet fascinating person you’d met- you felt yourself falling for his sense of humor in a way that you hadn’t quite been able to speaking directly to him. 

He was more loose, more spontaneous.  The walls he’d built, that you built, to protect yourselves in the view of others in public were nonexistent.  The way he spoke about things was different, less serious and more visionary.  

But the sparkle in his eyes were the same.  

You probably ended up watching all of his videos, finding his Twitch soon after and promptly playing bits and pieces of his recent streams.  

When he spoke to his friends it felt as though you were with them, a sort of magic that transcended the distance of the internet.  You had to frequently remind yourself that these were real people, that he was a real person.  A person that would begin to seem very real very soon to you.  

Morning rays shyly crept through your blinds, folding pinks and oranges onto your bedspread.  You’d devoured so many videos, so many streams- that by the time your obnoxious alarm went off you realized you hadn’t slept a wink.  

Although, you’d gained something much more valuable: an understanding.  

You knew GeorgeNotFound now, the charming screaming funny british boy that appeared on his best friend Dream’s videos.  The boy that teenage fans made accounts dedicated to edits of, and that featured in countless “Dream and George flirting” compilations.  The GeorgeNotFound that smiled wildey for the camera and cracked jokes at any given opportunity, putting the viewer in an inescapable trance.  

You knew GeorgeNotFound. 

And now you wanted to know George.

Chapter Text

The next couple of days consisted of studying hunched over your laptop, binge watching mind-numbing TV-shows, and of course rewatching clips of a certain British YouTuber.  You just couldn’t help yourself, the more he lurked in your mind the more enamored with him you became.  And it was impossible to get him out, you even tried taking walks around the town and visiting new places with new people to try and dilute the memory of meeting him.  But to no avail, as each night without fail you’d find yourself once again listening to his voice through your phone speakers.  

You had to call him.  No, you had to meet him.

That first meeting- that was just an introduction.  You hadn’t even learned his name until 30 minutes into your conversation, and were absolutely clueless about who he really was online.  

The weekend was steadily approaching, putting more pressure on you to make a move.  You took in a breath and clicked open his contact on your phone, a practice you’d done repeatedly with no intent. 

But this time, you tapped “message”.  

Hello, I’m not sure if you remember me but we met at that coffee shop a couple of days ago-

No, too wordy.  Judging from his personality he was a straight-to-the-point type. 

You began again.  Hi!  It's me, from the cafe on Tuesday.  I was just wondering how you’re doing?

A million voices in the back of your mind dissected the sentence and revealed its flaws, but you couldn’t be bothered to listen.  Without another moment of hesitation, you clicked send and fell asleep soon after. 

Once again you were greeted by soft sunbeams on your face- you really had to get thicker curtains.  But the awakening was much more pleasant than your usual weekday alarm, a nice start to the weekend.

A finger of yours rested atop the back of your phone laying on the table beside you, but after a moment of thought you removed it.  You tried to hush your temptation to check your notifications by beginning your morning routine as swiftly and efficiently as possible- so unlike your usually groggy morning behavior.  

But something that morning made you feel light on your toes, a flutter in your chest.  Although that mood continuing hinged on whether or not he replied, and if so, with what.  The thrill of such a feeling of fragility excited you, for at the moment everything was at the mercy of George’s fingers. 

You showered and slipped on a fresh outfit before finally allowing yourself to lift up your phone screen and-

0 notifications.

“Ughhh,” you groaned- your lock screen glaring at you.  You felt a twinge of hurt, but then it immediately dissolved.  You were letting your feelings be stupid again, were you really about to let a boy not responding right away ruin your day?  

“Men ain’t shit,” you dramatically murmured whilst eating breakfast.  You didn’t really have any plans for the day, but since the sun was so bright even through the blinds in your kitchen, you figured a walk couldn’t hurt.  Plus, your outfit was too cute to waste.   

Ahhhh .  Fresh sunlight on your face was like a breath of fresh air.  The fall air that was usually groggy was pleasant today, a lovely day for a walk in England.  As you passed your block and took a turn towards a street you rarely ventured along, you felt yourself falling in love with the country again.  

Charming brick shops and apartments with painted autumn trees dotted every so often along the sidewalk.  The sky was soft blue with not a cloud in sight.  You wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in the booth of another quaint coffee shop and draw for the rest of the weekend. 

But that line of thought only always led you to daydreaming- dreaming of being wrapped in soft arms and a softer personality.  You had to shake the thoughts away as you instead selected a path you knew led to a park.  

Your phone was like a 10 pound weight in your pocket, constantly tempting you to pick it up and check for a nonexistent notification. 

You had to get over this useless crush.  You’d only met the guy-George-once, and he was on your mind way more than he should’ve been.  You couldn’t even think of his name without sending your heart aflutter.  Ugh, I’m so bad at this stuff.

Still, you had his number.  That was something, right?  He wouldn’t have just given it to you unless he didn’t find you completely repulsive.  He wouldn’t have given it to you unless he liked you, in some capacity or another.  

As if reading your thoughts, you felt a buzz at your waist and immediately slipped out your phone, undoing your passcode in a millisecond.

George

Hello, I'm doing well!  How r u?  

Below that a second message appeared

Apologies for the late message btw, streamer sleep schedule >.<

You slammed your palm to your forehead.  What an idiot, you got yourself stressed about someone responding late for absolutely no reason!  Dammit, you thought.  Guess that's half a day of stressing gone for nothing.

You couldn't help the light giggle that arose from you as you pocketed the phone, a rosy feeling returning to your cheeks.  You practically skipped the rest of the way to the park, feeling comforted by the growing number of people you began seeing out and about.  By the time you arrived and sat yourself down on a vacant bench, a group of children were flying a kite in the field and an elderly couple were asleep on the bench beside you.  You smiled, soaking in the scenery, the sunshine, the feelings- so this is what the main characters of cheesy rom-coms felt like.  Weightless and stupidly free, banking everything on the unpredictability and vague possibility of romance.  

Around a half hour had passed and you thought it safe to respond to George’s message.  Anything shorter would seem desperate, longer would be uninterested.  It’d been a while, but you still knew how to play the game. 

I’m glad, George.  I’m fine as well, I was wondering if you’d perhaps like to meet up sometime?  

You chewed on your thumbnail, catching sight of the kite flying in the air to distract you from your anxieties of asking someone on a date.  Hesitating, you added, I really enjoyed our last conversation :D

Before another thought, your finger clicked send.  With a sigh, you let out all of the fears you’d been holding onto and replaced them with anticipation.  But instead of being negative, weighing you down, it felt more like… having your strings cut.  Your gaze found its way back to that stupid kite.  How nice it must be, being at the mercy of the wind and the elements.  Although perhaps that’s what you were now: at the mercy of the universe and all its divine games. 

Chapter Text

Today was the day!  

Your mind raced and so did your fingers through your hair as you quickly rose from bed and got ready.  

Today was your first date with GeorgeNotFound. 

Well, okay.  It wasn’t explicitly a date, but you were meeting up.  You popped on a song from your playlist that matched your mood, and like muscle memory opened up your last few messages with George.  

You: 

I’m glad, George.  I’m fine as well, I was wondering if you’d perhaps like to meet up sometime?  

I really enjoyed our last conversation. :D

George: 

Sure, that sounds nice although my sleep schedule is pretty wack atm. 

What did you have in mind?

You: 

Nothing in particular really

I work part-time at a different coffee shop, maybe we could go there and I could get u a free cup?

George: 

Sounds good!  I’ll have to move some things around but what times do u work there on wed? 

You: 

Wednesday’s my morning shift, so usually 6-9 lol

George:

That actually works for me, I’ll meet u at 7 yea?

You: 

Sure!! That sounds great :)

After that you’d exchanged the name and location of the shop.  The surprising ease of the conversation replayed in your mind as you did some light makeup and picked out an outfit with great care.  It was chillier today, so a cute sweater would do the trick.  Opting to skip cereal in favor of a muffin from the bakery/cafe you worked at, you were out the door in an instant.  You’d pulled some strings to get your classes moved up to 10- grabbing coffee with the famous GeorgeNotFound was obviously more important. 

Okay, fine, it wasn’t- but you hadn’t done something like this in a loooong time.  You deserved it. 

And so, with a fresh smile on your face after the two previous days of cram studying you finally made your way to work.  You treated it like a normal shift, greeting your co-workers and asking one of them to cover your shift for an hour. 

“Why?” she’d scoffed.  You knew her well enough to be able to ask her for a favor like this, but it didn’t stop you from feeling bad about it. 

Shyly, you answered, “I have a date.”

Immediately all the disdain dropped from her face and was replaced with giddy excitement.  “Oh my gosh, with who?!”  

“Don’t look so surprised!”  You sarcastically laughed.  “I can get a mans if I want to!”  

She rolled her eyes jokingly.  “Sure, sure… so how much did ya bribe him?”  You returned the comment with a playful smack.  After a bit more banter you finally confessed,

“Fine, fine I’ll tell you!  He’s a guy I met at some random cafe a week ago… he's actually sorta famous,” you rose you eyebrows flirtatiously. 

“Oooooh, sis, score!”  

“Wait you didn’t let me finish!  He’s famous- but for playing minecraft.”  At that you both broke into good natured laughter.  Obviously it didn’t embarrass you or anything, you didn’t think any less of him because of it.  But still, the prospect of telling someone your ‘date’ was a professional video game player… more than a little giggle worthy.

You were working as the cashier and your co-worker was making up a drink as you joked,  faintly hearing the shopkeeper’s bell ring.

“Well that’s quite a man you scored!” she laughed, and as you were about to turn and respond you heard a faint “pardon me?”

Before you, separated only by the cash register was a man a little taller than you dressed in jeans, hands stuffed in the pockets of a gray jacket on top of a navy sweatshirt.  You didn’t even need to look at his face to know who it was- you’d seen him wear that sweatshirt at least ten times on stream.

“H-hi!”  Your face was probably bright pink, and before you could even let everything register you ran your fingers through your hair, now messy courtesy of a busy morning of work.  “Hi George.”

Your co-worker must have gotten the memo and took the other waiting customer’s order.  Thank god. 

Finally you worked up the courage to look up at him, but immediately wished you hadn’t.  Seeing him from a screen for the past 8 days had brought your nerves to a boiling point, one that was just about to be passed. 

“Hello, erm sorry for being early.  I’ve never been here before,” he said looking around at the place, allowing you to see his jawline in person.  His hair that looked almost brown on screen was jet black, straightened and neat like his outfit. 

“Oh, no worries!  My bad, I should’ve expected you.  Would you like anything?”  You responded quickly, trying to break the tension.  

Then he chuckled, his soft dimples suddenly making the place glow.  You couldn’t look away from his glowing eyes, even more luminous in person- if that was even possible.

“Erm, well I probably should’ve told you this before but I’m actually not too fond of coffee.” 

Your face heated once again.  “Oh really?  Haha you should’ve let me know!  That makes this the second time we’ve gotten coffee together!”  You felt embarrassed at your wording although not knowing why.  Something about the word together.

And to your surprise, he must’ve felt it too as you spotted a bit of pink dust his cheeks.  

If you’d blinked, you’d have missed it.  

“So, anything else?  Free muffin, or pastry- anything you’d like.”  He shook his head politely.  “Alright, just give me a minute and I’ll meet you.”  

You swept yourself around to the back, trying to recompose yourself as you removed your apron.  Thank god he didn’t hear our conversation!  That was way too close.  You were jittery enough as-is, but the surprise of his earliness only startled you more.  Still, after you neatened your hair and grabbed your purse it was like you were completely different from your work self.  You waved goodbye to your co-worker who replied with a knowing smirk, and headed out the door to where he was waiting. 

“Hi!” you greeted again, blinded by the sudden brightness of the sun in contrast to the moody shop.  The smell of baked goods was nice, but the fresh scent of autumn was better.  “So, where to?”  

You got a better look at George, all bundled up and squinting at the sun, as he remained in a gentle silence for a moment.  You were struck by his shyness, or at least his untalkativeness, compared to all the videos you’d watched.  Perhaps your deduction of him as a person based on all of that was completely wrong. 

But how could someone be so bold in front of millions, while so timid in front of one? 

“I dunno,” George finally said, “You’re the one that asked me, right?”  You felt at ease in the pensiveness you’d now perceived from him.  It didn’t feel like you were competing for anything, or trying to be anything you weren’t.  You let the quiet between you exist, the spaces simply float at ease.  

You let out an amused hum.  “I suppose.  Well I’m embarrassed to say I didn’t really think that far ahead.”  

You added, “I didn’t think that GeorgeNotFound himself would actually show up to meet me .”  

George winced slightly at the mention of his online persona.  “Oh, you found me?”  He seemed a mix of disappointed and embarrassed, but you couldn’t lie now.  Not that you wanted to. 

“Haha, well, it’s not like you’re hard to find.  But don’t worry, it’s not like I stalked your page or anything.”  That’s exactly what you did.  “Honestly I was just curious about what you told me you’d been working on, I wanted to check it out for myself.”  

You were relieved when he grinned, his soft smile once again bringing color to your cheeks.  You both naturally started walking along the sidewalk to the left, flanked by stores and shops of all kinds.  

“So, how often do you walk around town like this?”

George chuckled.  “Not very often.”  

“Why not?  Any reason besides streaming?”  

“Well, editing and all that stuff, takes up most of my day.”  

“Yeah, I wish I could go out more as well.  It’s tough, school and everything.”  As soon as the conversation shifted to you, it felt as though George’s eyes lost their deadness. 

“Ah, right, you’re in school.  Studying nearby?”

“Yep,”  you told him your major and school.  “It's tough but… I wouldn’t trade living here for anything.  Have you lived in England your whole life?”

“Yeah, I’m probably the most British person you’ve ever met,” he laughed.  

“Yeah?  I doubt that, I’ve met some pretty British people around these parts.” 

You giggled thinking up a memory.  “One time, I saw an old lady at the store wearing a dress with the British flag on it.”  

“What?  Oh dear, that sounds like something my nan would do.”  You both giggled, adding to a chorus of chirping birds, passing conversations and rustling leaves.  

“Oh, oh, and another time I saw someone buy 5 whole jars of Marmite at a grocery store.  What could you possibly be doing with 5 jars of that stuff?  Should be illegal!”

“5 jars?  Alright, that's a lot even for me, and I love Marmite.”  

You stopped in your tracks and stared at him for dramatic effect.  “You love Marmite?!  As in, you not only tolerate it, but enjoy it?”  George chuckled embarassedly, probably at how stupid you looked stopped in the middle of the sidewalk yelling about Marmite, but you didn’t care.  

“What, it’s good!  Like, on bread and stuff,” he said, but you kept your disgusted expression on.  

“Wow, I don’t think we can be friends if you like that stuff,” you overdramatically announced.  

He scoffed sarcastically.  “Well, it’s you that shouldn’t be here , in the Marmite capital of the world, if you don’t like it!  I’m just normal!”  

You scrunched up your nose, admitting defeat as you continued walking.  Needless to say, the ice was broken.  Finally. 
And still, that stupid voice in your head kept repeating what had come out of your mouth just a moment ago.

Friend.

Chapter Text

“Okay, okay, what’s the most British thing you’ve ever done?”  

“What does that even mean?  Like, what do you want me to say, drink tea?  I don’t even like tea!”  

“Wow, that’s a surprise.  No coffee, no tea… lemme guess, you drink pure Marmite for breakfast.”

Walking under a canopy of leaves, you knew this whole “British” shtick was getting old.  But it was pretty clear that talking about anything YouTube or social-media related made George uncomfortable, so you tried your best to avoid it.  

“Haha, very funny,” he snickered.  A beat of silence followed, and of course your thoughts were all on him.  He’s so cute.  What if I messed this up?  God, I’m so annoying.

Luckily the atmosphere was too positive to let your anxieties thrive, which you were ever thankful for.  Each time a breeze blew past, you pretended it was blowing away one of your giddy insecurities. 

“So, we going anywhere particular?”  

“Hm?  Oh, uh not really.  I just figured since it was nice out, we could just walk around.”  He nodded cutely.  

“Honestly I don’t really go around here too often,”  you chuckled, “And I imagine the same for you, Mr. Streamer.”

He laughed.  “True, you’re a quick learner.”

“So,” you began, “If you weren’t forced outside, what would you be doing around now?”  You were genuinely curious, although your sarcastic quip lightened the ask.

He thought for a moment.  “Well, I’d honestly probably be sleeping still- I sorta just wake up and nap whenever I feel like it.  But other than that, probably talking to my friends.”  

“Like Dream?” you asked.  He nodded, a strange look in his eyes.  A mix between curiosity and knowingness, you felt.  “Who else?  I’ll be honest, I’m not super familiar with the gaming community.”  That was a lie, you’d done plenty of research; but playing naive seemed to have worked the best for you so far. 

“Oh, yeah I wouldn’t expect you to be.  To be honest, I’d be a bit strange if you did know everything about me- like, it makes it feel as if I’m the only one meeting someone knew, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get that.”  You silently thanked your ability to pick up on social cues.  “I presume most of your interactions are like that?”

He hummed in agreement.  “It’s not, like, bad or anything… just a bit awkward.  I rarely have conversations with strangers to begin with, and when they know all about me it makes it sort of strange.”  

“I’d imagine.  But, I also sort of get it.  I mean, I’d probably do the same if I saw a handsome celebrity out in the wild.”  Your face flushed as you realized you’d just called him attractive.  “Oh!  I didn’t mean it like-”

“Haha, don’t worry it’s fine.”  He changed the subject, but him rubbing the back of his neck alluded to some discomfort.  It didn’t help that you found the action particularly attractive…

“So, do you play any video games?”  

“Hmm?”  Distracted, you’d just barely heard the question, but luckily caught it.  “Oh, well not really.  Animal crossing I suppose, I’ve tried Zelda.  I’ve played minecraft, but, well, it’s embarrassing to say that in front of pro minecrafter.”  You both laughed lightly, turning another corner.  

“Yeah, although it’s more embarrassing on my end I can assure you,” he rubbed his neck again.  

“What’d you mean?”  

“Ah, well, the title of pro-minecrafter isn’t exactly… prestigious, I guess.”  

“What?  I think it’s cool!”

He sighed, but didn’t look convinced.  The shallow crease of his eyebrows made you want to fill him with all the admiration you felt for him, that he couldn’t see.  

“No, I’m serious.  Imagine doing what you love, every day.  No schedule, no rules- all that freedom, I don’t know what I’d do with myself.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard all that.  Sometimes I sorta feel like I don’t deserve it all.”

“But that’s the great bit!  It doesn’t matter if you deserve it or not, because you have it, right?”  Your admiration was bursting at the seams, you didn’t even know what you said and if it made sense or not.  But to your joy, it seemed to work.  

The sparkle in his eyes returned, matching the yellow blossoms guarding the trees on your path.  

“Thank you.”  

You grinned, and he did as well.  

Chapter Text

Basking in the now shaded sidewalk and shops that lined it, the pair of you strolled in silence for a few moments.  

Soon enough, one store caught your eye, at the corner of the block.  A small, quaint bookstore: Leslie’s Novels.  

“Hey, that shop looks cute, want to look around?”  You asked bubbly, to which he agreed.  

As soon as you entered through the rather short doorway (which George had to duck through) it was as though you were transported to the likes of Harry Potter or some other fantastical bookshop.  Alright, that was a bit of an exaggeration- but the clash from clear England air to this was enough to invoke a bit of magic.  

The indoors were taller than you’d perceived from the inside, shelves of books filling two floors with a small spiraling staircase connecting them.  The front counter was vacant, you assumed the owner was in the back or something.

Your gaze landed on George as he was looking up and around, and you felt something deep inside of you slipping.  Slowly and softly.

As you brought yourself to a nearby windowside shelf and ran your fingers along the aged spines of countless books, the nostalgic scent of parchment and paper filled your senses.  George had wandered to a shelf nearby, and something in your heart for some reason urged you to run over there and hug him.  You had to physically shake your head to get rid of those dreamy stupid thoughts- probably the spawn of the dream-like nature of the place.  

You half expected a witch to pop out from the back, but alas, it was just a quiet middle aged woman who greeted you kindly and returned to her sorting. 

Alright, confession: you’d actually had another motive for going into the shop instinctively.  A childhood worth of rom-coms taking place in bookstores just like this one had trained you into feeling a symbiotic relationship between love and books, deep in your soul.  

Maybe a child-like part of you that still believed in spontaneous love wanted to dramatically confess your love to George in a setting just as magical.  And you’d be lying if you said your adult self didn’t feel the tiniest urge to give in  

But luckily, it wasn’t enough to make you completely lose your senses.  As you mindlessly pulled out a book and flipped through the pages to smell its aroma, you kept a careful reading on how George moved, how he interacted with the books before him.  

He picked them up with tender hands, flipping through them with the insatiability of a young bright-eyed teen.  His eyes followed the sentences like you’d remembered him following the lines of code the first time you’d met.  And his lips… they moved, or rather quivered, ever so slightly- was he humming?  Perhaps.  

You set the book in your hands down, slightly shuffling towards him while appearing like you were looking at the hundreds of titles.  When he was within speaking distance, he looked up at you as though caught off guard.  

“I take it you like books?”  You murmured softly, matching the softness of the setting.

He hummed, “Mhmm, I used to never be without them.  But that was a while ago, now it just feels…”

“-nostalgic,”  you finished.  You smiled up at him, once again admiring how his features caught the warm light.

He cleared his throat.  “Looking for anything in particular?”  He shuffled.

You didn’t stop looking at him.  “Nope.”  

“Oh, alright then.”  

Quiet. 

A beat. 

And then… 

“Come on, let’s see what they have upstairs.”  You grabbed him by his gloved hand and led him to the staircase.  

You’d chickened out.  There was a moment!  The tension was there, you felt it.  

But you were too nervous to go anywhere with it. 

He grunted in surprise at the touch, but followed you playfully up the stairs.  They creaked under your feet- probably hadn’t been used by anyone besides the owner in weeks.

You felt yourself wobbling a bit, and George helped you straighten yourself by supporting your arms.  

Heat rose to your cheeks at the contact but you quickly shook it away.

The smell of books was clearer up here, unobstructed by the outdoors.  It felt almost like a cozy attic, you giggled at how George almost had to hunch to avoid hitting his head on the ceiling.  

“The perks of being short!” you chuckled. 

“What’s that?  I can’t hear you from down there,”  he joked, and you responded by sticking out your tongue.  

You swept yourself behind one of the bookshelves in the back, peering at him through the books.  

“Oh George!” you teased, and he giggled, hitting his head on a beam.  

You laughed even more, trying your very best to keep your voice down in the store.  He rubbed his head pretending to be offended, and you promptly mocked his action by acting like an old man with head pain.  

You knew you were being dumb, but you couldn’t help it.  Something about the energy he created made you want to make him laugh, and as long as it was working you’d keep going. 

Your cute flirting was cut short, though, by him getting a rather loud notification.  You hadn’t realized that this was the first one he’d gotten- so he probably kept his phone on silent.  Otherwise he’d probably be flooded with them non-stop.  

He looked down, and it took all your decency to not peek at who the text was from.

As soon as he read it though, his face twisted into a small frown. 

“Oh, well, I think I have to go.” 

You were a tiny bit hurt- I mean, since the guy had no real schedule, couldn’t he just wait another hour?

“Oh, alright.”  Perhaps he noticed your fallen expression (which you’d tried to hide) because he responded,

“I’m sorry, I wouldn’t leave like this unless it was sort of important.”  He pocketed his phone and his hands along with it.  “It was my friend Dream, he needs me for something.”

Your disappointment drained, replaced with sympathy.  “It’s fine!  I totally get it- don’t feel bad or anything.” 

His relief was contagious, and you believed its genuineness.  

“I would like to do this again, though, if you’re cool with that,”  he stuttered the tiniest bit, which you found indescribably adorable.  “Here, do you have discord?”  

You nodded, despite using it a grand total of one time this entire year. 

“Okay, good.  I’m a pretty bad texter, I use discord, like, ninety-nine percent of the time.  Is it alright if I give you my username?”  

You exchanged names and added each other quickly, still enveloped by the cascades of bookshelves.  

“There, now we can chat.”  Your cheeks flushed again, the uninvited image of late night texting popping into your mind.  You nodded.

“Would you like me to walk you back?  I’ve got nothing to do today,”  you offered.  

“No, it’s alright, don’t worry about it.  I wish I could offer the same but…”

You hummed in agreement, both of you making your way downstairs.  You quickly waved goodbye to the owner, George again ducking out the doorway.  

“This was fun!” you smiled.  “Well, this is where I leave you, my dear George.”

“And to you too, my dear.”  You both erupted into giggles, soaking up the last bit of sun that shined from his laughs.  

“Okay, I should actually go now,”  he shuffled.  His hands stayed fidgeting in his pockets, and so did yours. 

A beat.  

A moment.  

“Alright!  See you!”  You waved, beginning your journey back the way you came.  

“Bye!”  George said, returning your wave and turning the other way, leaving your sight as you did his. 

As soon as you were obscured by the corner bend, you let out a sigh you didn't know you were holding. 

There was too much for you to think about- but luckily, you had the whole way to do just that.  

Just another sunny English day, right?

Chapter Text

The following days felt like shallower versions of the nights between first meeting George and going to the bookstore.  Slowly you began seeping back into normalcy, but there was still the lingering smell of pages on your clothes and with it the soft longing for George’s presence to return. 

Your messages remained empty, at least from him.  You’d downloaded the discord app, and after teaching yourself how to navigate it you finally worked up the courage to contact him.  

‘Hello, it’s me again!’

7 hours later

‘Hi!’

The brevity of the interaction stung, but it wasn’t like you initiated anything.  It’d only been a handful of days, and plus unlike your crush, life was evermoving.  Your classes dragged on between shifts at the coffee shop, and you assumed that George’s days were equally if not a bit less repetitive.  At every break in your thoughts you found yourself wondering what he was up to, what he was doing, what he was thinking about…

Well, one thing interesting did happen, about a night after your “date”.  You managed to catch one of his streams on Twitch, the stars must have aligned because it began right after one of your classes ended.  

Immediately after getting the purple notification GeorgeNotFound is Live: Streaming Minecraft you’d thrown your laptop open and navigated right to twitch.  

And there he was, plastered across the length of your entire face.  It felt almost a bit intrusive for you to allow your gaze to pour so insatiably upon him, but you couldn’t resist.  His soft dimples and rosy cheeks, his soft brown eyes and contagious smile- not to even mention how cute he looked in that gray sweatshirt and of course headphones. 

You recalled how weird it was to see him without those on, it was like they were part of his persona.  At least from everything you’d seen about him online which, in the past weeks, was a lot.  Your tiktok feed was practically entirely GeorgeNotFound clips but… that was irrelevant. 

Anyway, you remember yourself sinking into the soft release of listening to his voice, joking and responding to donos and getting frustrated over dying in Minecraft.  You’d never speed-ran Minecraft before in your life, but after watching an hour and a half of him *attempt* it you felt like knew everything there was to know about it.  

You were far too cowardly to type in the chat- although it wasn’t like he knew who you were anyway.  Still the flying past of adorable messages warmed your heart.  

ily George!

Gogy ur my favoriteee

Pls marry me george

You chuckled, trying to imagine that timid boy from yesterday being swarmed by fans in real life.  That’d sure be a sight, if he was anything around his fans how he was with you.  

Anonymity sure gave people confidence, didn’t it.  It sucked that you didn’t have that, but maybe it was a blessing in disguise.  After all, without a screen to hide behind all the time he was sort of forced to notice you.  Or rather, forced to interact with you.  

The burning temptation at your fingertips to click on the discord icon and message him didn’t fade all throughout the week.  You’d drafted a few messages, but they all seemed creepy.  

Something like ‘I saw ur twitch stream, it was good!’ seemed appealing to you in the moment, but the more you thought about it the more unnerving it sounded.  Should you even tell him that you watch his twitch?  Maybe it would make him uncomfortable.  Like everyone, he probably has a social life and work life separation, right?  Intruding on that might be a bit weird, especially since you were still feeling things out. 

You sighed, stretching in the purple light of your laptop in the dark bedroom.  You were about to delete the message, but the side of your hand hit the return key and the few words you’d typed out appeared right above a little “22:32”.  

Your fingers hovered for a moment, the fact that the message had sent registering.  You could’ve deleted it of course, but you just shrugged and let it go.  Ah, well, I guess the universe made the decision of whether or not to respond for you.

For some reason it was like a weight was lifted off your chest, a breath of euphoria.  With that you shut your laptop with a satisfying click, and set it on the table beside you.  

Your eyes fluttered shut, quieting your mind and allowing yourself to-

Do-do!

The chime from your phone immediately made your eyes fly open and fingers hastily unlock it, re-adjusting to the harsh light.  You squinted to see better, and spotted a periwinkle notification appear on your homescreen. 

‘A discord message from George: Was it now?’

You smiled.  Your fingers moved before your thoughts did.

‘Haha, don’t get too cocky speedrunner boy >.<’

‘Oh don’t worry, there wasn’t much to be cocky about’

The discord chirp was quickly becoming comforting to your ears.  But the ellipsis next to his name as he responded certainly wasn’t.  

‘Congrats, you got to watch 3 hours of my fail at speedrunning!’

‘Wdym??’ you replied, then typed below it “ Well, i prob shouldn’t be judging what’s good speedrunning, i barely know what it means”

‘Loll, it’s when u beat the game by beating the ender dragon’

‘I know that much! I just don’t know all the complicated shit, Like when u built that portal so fast, that was crazy!’

You’d never admit it in a lifetime but you had found it rather attractive. 

‘Well, alright then if u think that’s cool, u should watch dream’

‘I just might do that’  you hesitated, then added “but i like watching u better”

‘Is that so? Maybe i could teach u what i know someday’

Suddenly your stomach was full of flutters, and you clutched a pillow to your chest to relieve excitement that hadn’t been there just a second ago. 

‘Wow, lessons from THE speedrunning master? I’d be honored’

‘Lmaoo’  A pause that felt like hours followed the message before he added, ‘well, i’ve got some important speedrunning business to attend to, but it was nice talking to u!’

You groaned, wondering when the cheesy formalities were going to end.  Still, there was something charming about them. 

‘You too!  And I’ll make sure to take u up on ur offer’

After you’d seen that he was no longer active, you let out a sigh. You quickly scrolled up your short conversation again as your face began to feel warm and fuzzy.  The feeling flowed to your stomach and fingers, and you felt light once again- the floating feeling.  At the same time it felt like you were glowing, a ball of radiance in your dark room.  You could get used to these kinds of late night conversations.  

 Your smile had never left, and it stayed plastered on your face making you look like an idiot even as you returned your phone to its place on the bedside table.  

And despite your newfound jitteriness, you still managed to quiet your mind enough to grow tired.  Sleep came easily after that, calm and soft- and totally not thinking of running your fingers through George’s hair.

Chapter Text

“Hey, wait up !! Not everyone’s a master at parkour!” 

A blocky character was jumping and running across your bright computer screen, and you hastily clicked the mouse and space bar to try and catch up.  The desert landscape and mountainous background of Minecraft was pulled up on your monitor for the first time in years- you’d had to re-download it which took hours and lots of pleas for help through discord.

“This isn’t even parkour, it’s just running!”  George’s milky sweet voice rang through the computer speakers- you didn’t have headphones, but hearing him talk outloud made it seem that much more real to you.  

You scoffed, finally catching up to where he’d stopped by a desert temple.  

“Okay, now whatever you do- DON’T step on the pressure plate at the bottom of the temple, got it?”

“Sure- I think.”

You followed his lead inside and watched as he mined down carefully.  You jumped down to follow him but accidentally landed on the ground- 

Sssss- Boom!

A screen of red and a message reading “You Died!” now filled your screen, filling your whole bedroom with the rosy hue.  

“Come on!” You both said simultaneously, and you slammed your hands on the desk for extra dramatic effect. 

“The one thing I told you-”

“I didn’t know!! You should’ve been more specific, George!”

He laughed wholesomely, chuckling as you respawned thousands of blocks away from him.

An hour ago, you’d messaged George on discord asking if he was free to teach you Minecraft- you were a person of your word, after all.  And about 40 minutes ago, he’d replied saying yes. 

The anxiety and excitement inside barely had any time to leap at his reply, because immediately after he asked you to vc.  And so you did, trying your best to stay polite and quiet at first.  But within practically 30 seconds of loading up the game and joining his server, your frustration came out- and with it, the rest of your personality under all that fluff.  

It took a bit longer for George to open up, but perhaps he was just more natural to begin with.  After all, he was way more used to voice chatting than you were.  

It made you smile each time he cracked a stupid joke, and teased you as though you’d always been such good friends.  There seemed to be a mutual feeling of comfort, that you intended to bask in for as long as possible. 

“Guess you’ve got to start from the beginning!  Your stuff’s all blown up,” he snorted, and you growled in response. 

“Oh no, what will I ever do without my 3 flowers and 5 sticks!” you sarcastically quipped back, receiving another mutual giggle.  

You weren’t sure what it was that made it so easy for you to be yourself with George over discord, when you were so tense just a few days ago in person.  Perhaps the barrier of a screen, or the lack of face-to-face.  It didn’t matter, all that mattered was that you felt as though now, finally, you were in his home court.  This was what he was used to: talking to friends through discord and seeing them through Minecraft.  And you could sure get used to that.  

“How do I craft an axe again?” 

“2 sticks in the bottom middle slots, then 3 more above making an upside down L shape- like, the top 2 are filled and-”

“Right, I think I got it!  Yay, tree time!”

“Okay, while I’m waiting I guess I’ll try to find some iron since someone blew up our chances at diamonds-”

“Oh come on!  That was, like 2 minutes ago- give it a rest!”

“Fine, fine,”  he laughed.  You were intensely concentrated on cutting down trees, so grateful that George couldn’t see the stupid face you were making. 

“You only lasted 2 minutes anyway,” you barely heard him murmur, which you immediately retorted and pretended to act mad, then sad. 

“Fine, I guess I’ll just go the other way and build my own little house, BY MYSELF! ” you huffed, selecting a cute flower-filled field to start construction in, far, far away from the desert. 

“What, I thought we were speedrunning!” Oh yea, you’d forgotten. 

“Well, maybe you are, but I’m building the best house you’ve ever seen- just watch.” 

He chuckled, “Considering you just downloaded the game, I wouldn’t hold my breath.” 

“Hey!” 

“Although, it’ll most likely be better than anything I could build so go right on ahead.  I’ll just beat the ender dragon and bring back the egg for you to use as, like, a flower vase or something,” he laughed. 

“Ugh, fine!  I’ll join you, I actually do want to beat the ender dragon.”

“Alright, alright, my coordinates are X: 145 and Z: 679,” he relayed. 

“Wait, why’s there no y coordinate?” you asked while skipping through the virtual forest back towards spawn. 

“That’s the height, it’s irrelevant.”

“Ohhhh, god I’m such a noob.” 

“Wow, I haven’t heard someone say the word ‘noob’ since, like, 2013.” 

“Shut it!”

The sun (in-game) was beginning to set, matching the time of day it was in real life.  Although since it was autumn it was still rather early in the evening, despite the foolery of the sky. 

Mauve and peach pixels painted the Minecraft sky, and you were oddly struck at how pretty it looked.  A nice place for a date, you thought. 

God, look at you- chasing a guy in a video game made of blocks.  

You were quickly snapped out of your daze by a sharp smack sound from the game as you took 2 hearts of damage.

“Hey what was that?!”  You quickly identified the skeleton that had shot you, and charged towards it with your axe swinging.  “Cm’here, useless mob.”

George was laughing at your efforts as you audibly took way more damage than he probably would’ve.

“Hey, stop laughing George!  Come save me!”

“I’m too far!  If you hadn’t died-”

“Omg, if you don’t let that go- aaaah!!” you wailed as a swarm of husks attacked you from behind just as you finished off the skeleton.  “George help! I’m on 3 hearts!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, where are you?” 

“I’m-” you were cut off by the second death message of today.  You Died!

George burst into laughter, and your rage only made him laugh more.  

“Oh come on!! I WAS SO CLOSE!”  But you couldn’t be bothered to keep up your exaggerated angriness for very long, and eventually dissolved into giggles as well.  

But it was cut short when a bunch of discord pings for George sounded through the call.  Plenty of them had gone off before, scattered throughout your conversation but this time he started typing loudly in response to. 

“Hey, um, is it alright if one of my friends joins us?”

You bit your bottom lip.  Friend?  Why would they want to be in a call with you?

“Sure,” you replied- they were probably just wondering what he was up to.  

“Right, cool.  If he gets too annoying, let me know and I’ll kick him,” he chuckled.

You started giggling and typing out a response, when the message at the bottom of the chat silenced you. 

Dream has been added to the chat.

Chapter Text

“What do you want?”  You felt the immediate change in George’s voice- sarcasm dripping off it and sparkling with newfound adoration. 

And then you heard it- that familiar, light chuckle you’d heard in basically all of George’s videos.  But this time, it was live.  In your discord call.

Dream was in your discord call. 

You were basically frozen, unsure of what to say- if anything.  It was like you were barely there. 

“What, can’t I just see what my friend’s been up to for 2 hours?”  2 hours?! Surely we hadn't played for that long…

Dream's voice sounded exactly like it did in all his videos, having a unique rhythm and tone quality that could only be his.  It put you at ease instantly, and you could feel the friendship between him and George oozing out of both their inflections.  You let out a soft sigh, your shoulders untensing as your fingers relaxed gently over the keys. 

“I mean, I guess… weirdo. Anyway, we were just playing minecraft. This is-”

You interjected, suddenly finding your voice.  You told him your name, with a soft giggle. “Hi, Dream. I’m George’s… friend.”

“Friend?” You could hear his eyebrows rise through the call- although you couldn't imagine it without a face coming to mind.  “So, how’d you two meet?”  He slurred his words to insinuate that there was something more, which you easily scoffed at.  You were surprised by your own confidence, but welcomed it.

“I told you, dimwit!” George grumbled, and your face heated.  He’d talked about me?  With Dream?! 

“Oh yeah, coffee shop girl!  Nice to meet you,” he said in his sunshine voice.  Your flattery faded with the entrance of the new nickname- one that you weren’t all that fond of especially since George apparently hated coffee.  But still your sense of humor got the best of you, with the added pressure of making a good first impression.

“Yup, coffee shop girl, at your service.”  

You were nervous as could be, but George seemed to be in the same state if his awkward chuckle was any indication. 

“Is that it, Dream?  You done snooping?” 

“Aw, Gogy, you that eager for me to leave?”

“Yeah.”  If you hadn’t known the strength of their friendship from their videos, George’s frustration would’ve been believable.  But as it was, it was just incredibly funny to you.  Flattering, even, was the fact that you flustered him enough to act differently around his best friend. 

“Well, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your Minecraft date!”  Dream taunted.

“It’s not-”

“Not what, Gogy ?”  You let your sarcastic sense of humor slip unabashedly.  “Are you telling me that this whole time we weren’t on a Minecraft date?”

“Haha, very funny,” he said, dripping with just as much sarcasm as you.  Just like how the two of you’d been just a minute ago, before Dream joined the call.  

Dream laughed- his signature impossible-not-to-smile-at laugh. 

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.  The fact that Dream was a bonafide celebrity in your mind never left, but somehow it bothered you less and less.  In fact, it was kind of exciting. 

George was perhaps just as famous, and he didn’t make you nervous- well, he did, but for a different reason.  Anyway, if you could quell your fear around him, why not with Dream?

“Okay actually, Dream, what are you doing here?”

“Okay actually, George, I wanna get to know your Minecraft girlfriend!”  George groaned as you both chuckled, and as stupid as the joke was it still made you blush and your fingers sweat slightly.  

“She’s not my- god nevermind, prick.” 

“Woah, watch your language!”

“I’m not on stream dickhead!”  George cursing sent a weird shiver down your spine… you sort of liked it.  

“GeorgeNotFound curses offstream confirmed?” you chuckled softly.  Dream giggled again and even George let out a chuckle, making you feel above the clouds.  

“Oh boy, you’re gonna have your hands full with this one- he’s got the dirtiest mouth I’ve ever heard.” 

“No I do not!  I’ve stopped, you’re the bad one Dream.”  

“Yeah, yeah whatever you say,”  Dream hummed.  “So are you gonna invite me to the game or not?”  You’d almost forgot you still had Minecraft open, the You Died screaming red under your discord tab.  

“Don’t you have something to do?”  George persisted.  “It’s like, what, 4 pm there?  Aren’t you usually asleep?”  Aw, they know each other’s sleep schedules, you thought.  Cute .  

“Nah, I had something earlier and then my parents came over for a bit.  Now I’m just killing time before a call with Tommy,” he relayed.  TommyInnit- that teenager, right?

“Fine,” George admitted defeat, and not long after you reopened the game tab and respawned, ‘Dream joined the game’ appeared at the bottom left.  It was sunrise in-game by now, periwinkle sky over that horrid desert.  It illuminated your computer-lit-only room with light blue and white.  Your stuff probably despawned a long time ago, to your dismay, but seeing the Dream skin in person cheered you up again. 

“Oh, hi Dream!” you chirped as he spawned next to you.  You giggled at his stupid skin.

“Wait, I never noticed that your skin was the blob thing!”  You exclaimed after examining it for a moment. 

Dream laughed wholeheartedly.  “What really?!  You just realized that- wow, I guess you’re not a superfan stalker.  That’s good to know.”  

“Well… maybe I am, you never know,” you moved your voice up and down suspiciously, like his bobbing green player as it hopped over to a tree.  

“I’m pretty sure anyone that’s watched more than a single video of ours would know what my skin is supposed to be,” he chuckled.

“Wow, the disrespect- maybe I should watch all your videos again to see what else I missed.”  You noticed your mistake before it came out of your mouth.  “Not that I- I haven’t watched all your videos!  I swear, I’m not a stalker.”
The panic in your voice must have been hilarious, because the two of them burst into laughter immediately.  You were relieved they didn’t kick you out of the call right then and there. 

“Oh god, I’ve revealed my true intentions!”  You were already digging your own grave- might as well jump right in.  “I wanted to get close to the beautiful Gogy-poo to brag to all my fellow superfans.  It is I, ‘George_superfan_200’!”  You were dangerously teetering on the edge of cringy and downright unfunny, but as long as it distracted them it was fine.  

“Oh no, I can’t believe the random girl I met in a coffee shop turned out to be a crazed stan!”  The relief that pooled in your stomach after his sarcasm-dripped response reached your ears was unmatched.  You thanked your lucky stars. 

“No seriously though, I had no idea who you were before you told me your channel.”  You hoped the honesty in your voice was enough to convince him.

“I know, that’s why I agreed to meet you again,” George responded softly.  That touched your heart lightly, and you smiled.  “You were genuine.”

Your heartbeat was in your throat, and you sat like an idiot staring at the screen.  You pressed your knuckles to your chin, leaning softly on the desk.  The music of the game playing out loud in your dimly lit room was dreamy and soft, just like your emotions in the moment.  Dreamy and soft. 

“Hey, lovebirds, I’m still here.”  You jumped at Dream’s voice- his presence had shamefully slipped your mind.  Good thing neither of them could see your face.  

“Shut up!”  You and George retorted simultaneously.  

Dream laughed, punching your character in the game.  “Maybe you are perfect for each other.”

It came back- the feeling.  Humming in your stomach, making you look stupid.  

Dreamy and soft, and stupid.

Chapter Text

“Okay guys that was fun, I think I’m gonna hop off now- got some stuff to get done,” Dream chimed into his mic.  

It’d only been 20 minutes but felt like 2, running around Minecraft and yelling at each other for stuff.  Okay, mostly you yelling at them to teach you the game while they argued over the best parkourist- but it was charming nonetheless.  You still couldn’t believe that you held a conversation with both Dream and George.  Talking with George already made you terrifyingly giddy, so add his friend with over 15 million subs and it was bound to be a trainwreck.  

But it wasn’t, and that filled you with more sunshine than an English sky could offer in a week.  

“Alright no worries!  It was lovely to meet you, Dream.”  You couldn’t even contain the bubbliness seeping out of your voice. 

“Yeah Dream, thanks for interrupting our speedrunning lesson-” George began.

“ You’re welcome ,” he responded directly to you comically ignoring George, “Thank you, someone , for being grateful.”  You chuckled as he did lightly, even George giggling through an annoyed huff. 

“Alright alright, go talk to Tommy or whatever.  We’ve still got shit to film this morning so you better be up.” 

“Tonight?” you asked.  “Isn’t it, like, 10?”

“Er.. oh yeah, it is.  Sorry, I’m on Dream’s schedule- it’s morning there, I think.”  George said hurriedly.  

“Woah, that’s some commitment to a friendship,” you remarked softly.  The prospect of sharing a sleep schedule with your friend living across the world was adorable to you.  Their friendship really was something special, wasn’t it.  

Dream chuckled. “Nah, George’s just a simp.”  

“Yeah, a simp for your mum.”

You couldn’t bring yourself not to laugh at the joke’s stupidity, saying your final goodbyes and as Dream finally left the discord call.  

There was a beat of silence before George chuckled- enough to make you melt once again.  You sighed. 

“I didn’t expect Dream to be so…” you trailed off. 

“So what?”  George pressed. 

“So… real, I guess.  Genuine.”

“Yeah, he gets that a lot.”

“I dunno, he’s just easy to talk to I guess.  Made me freak out a tiny bit less about the fact that he’s insanely famous,” you chuckled. 

“I wouldn’t say insanely, but… I dunno, after knowing him for so long it’s hard to say.  But I guess yeah, he’s one of those guys that is just really honest with his fans.” 

“Must be terrifying, though. I don’t know what I’d do with that many eyes on me, being completely myself.”

George was silent for a bit. 

“Are you like that?  Completely honest, I mean.”  You hoped your tone didn’t come across insensitive, as your question was genuine.  

“Hm?  Um, well, that’s a… loaded question.”

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.  It’s just interesting to me, having the ability to shape your persona to everyone.”

“Well when you put it like that, yeah, I guess I definitely have an online persona.  Like, ‘woah it’s GeorgeNotFound from Dream’s videos, the guy that screams a lot and does coding stuff’!  Yeah, that couldn’t be farther from me in real life.”

You giggled, thinking about the shy boy from the coffee shop.  “You can say that again.”

“Oi, what do you mean by that?!” he snickered.

“Oh come on, you’re like the most introverted person ever in public.  At least, that’s the impression I got.”

“Well, I suppose you’re right.  I rarely go out to begin with, but… people aren’t really my strong suit.”

“Ironic, considering you stream in front of, like, tens of thousands of people.  Isn’t that frightening?”

The cool gray of discord painted your screen, your gaze resting on where a green ring illuminated George’s colourful icon.  

“Honestly, not really.  I’ve thought about it a lot, why I get uncomfortable around real fans but can handle being watched doing stupid stuff playing video games by thousands.  It’s just… nevermind.” 

“What?  You can tell me.”

He chuckled softly.  “It’s just that it sounds a bit awful, putting it into words.”

“Oh please, I won’t judge.  Just say it.”

“Alright, alright.  I guess it's just- and this is gonna sound horrible- but it’s a lot easier to digest a number like two million when it’s just, like there.  Like, I have to constantly remind myself that it's full of real, actual living people- everytime I look at it, it just doesn’t feel… real.  Like don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful and all that it’s just… overwhelming.”

“I get that.  I think it’s hard for anyone to really understand stuff like that, big numbers I mean.  It’s probably impossible, asking that of one person.”  

“Yeah, I suppose.  Really I don’t think I’ll ever get to the point where I understand that number… every single one being a real person… it’s scary, almost.”  The tiniest quiver in his voice made you want to just steal all of his worries and hide them away.  You wanted to wrap your arms around him and comfort him… but perhaps the calming computer light was good enough.  

“Yeah, you’re right.  It is a bit scary.”  You wondered what he was like right now- hunched over his computer, perhaps with a blanket or pillow like you?  Maybe he was getting ready to stream, or about to go to bed.  Had he just showered or just eaten?  His schedule- no, his life was a puzzle to you, and it entranced and excited you at the same time.  It enchanted you.

“Scary,” he repeated in a low murmur.  He was probably sleepy. 

“Spooky,” you almost hummed, then erupting into soft giggles to which he added. 

You continued talking, back and forth- learning about Goerge’s fears, his life, his crazy sleep schedule.  Although on many occasions a yawn threatened your mouth, you suppressed it.  You could listen to him speak to you for hours, perhaps even fall asleep to the sound of his voice.  But you wouldn’t have the audacity to doze off while he poured his heart out about Minecraft.  

Slowly the conversation veered from streaming to youtube to general life stuff, dotting around your life that was less interestingly consumed by university and studies.  

“So you’re telling me you just sleep whenever you’re tired?  Like, ‘whoops, I’m feelin a bit sleepy right this moment- nap time!’” you exclaimed.

“You mean you don’t do that?  Wow, must be horrible,” George chuckled, his voice slowly getting softer and more raspy as the conversation went along.  “I’m just joking, I remember how tough it was waking up for uni.  Torture, really.”

“Yeah- wait, shit.”  Your fingers sprung to your keyboard and mouse, and frantically clicked over to your school email where you searched for your schedule.  

“What is it?”  George asked after a moment of your silence.  

“Ughhhh,” you groaned loudly.  “I have a morning class tomorrow!  I forgot, shit.” 

George laughed pitifully as you whined in distress.  What he didn’t know was that it wasn’t sleep you longed to hold on to- it was him.  But you knew that you’d kill yourself if you ended up a sleep-deprived mess tomorrow so… it’d be best to leave the conversation where it was.  

“Hey, I really apologize but-”

“Don’t be, I get it.  Get some rest.”  Your heart fluttered at his words.

“I- ah, thank you.  You’re lovely, George.”  You heard a slight breath through the mic- maybe a huff, but a reaction nonetheless.  

“This was fun,” you said, smiling.

“Yeah, it was.”

“Message me sometime, yeah?”

He hummed in agreement.  “Sure.”

“Goodbye, George!”

“Goodbye,” George whispered. 

Chapter Text

The shower was steaming when you stepped in, clouds of clear fog washing over your face as locks of water hit your skin.  And with it, lines of dialogue from the night before came to the surface of your mind. 

You’d passed out almost immediately after logging off last night, as it was the only way to shut out all of the craziness that you could think of.  You’d woken up less than enthusiastically before the sun, groaning at having to get ready for your morning uni classes. 

Still, as the night before unwrapped you found yourself getting more and more giddy.  You’d really spoken to Dream,  The Dream, as casually as you would any other new person you’d meet.  And he was nice, like, super nice.  Nice enough to make your heart sing with sunshine even while being burned in the face by the shower.  You could see why George liked him, even from just one interaction.  

And George… ah, George.  You couldn’t help yourself humming and dancing in the shower whilst covered in suds.  

The details of what you’d talked about were fuzzy, but his voice was clear in your head.  His gentle tone and sarcastic remarks, the way it lit up when Dream joined the call and softened again when it was just the two of you.  “You’re genuine”, he’d said.  He’d asked you to message him sometime.  

You pressed your fingers to your forehead thinking about all the idiodic shit you’d said last night- probably without thinking.  You’d called him lovely- well, it was true, but what could’ve possibly come over you to say it to him?  The late night and artificial computer light were a dangerous combination for your tongue, especially when talking to someone that meant something to you.  

And somehow the lack of intimacy of a discord call lent itself to some kind of faux confidence- that could quite possibly be the death of you if you didn’t control it. 

Slipping out of the shower and into a fresh outfit, force of habit made you pick up your phone and click on discord.  Without even thinking, your finger hovered over your private messages with George.  And next to his icon was a green dot- he was online. 

Had he been up this whole time?  You recalled him telling you that he’d only just woken up an hour before calling you so… that was a distinct possibility.

You hesitated before quickly typing “still up?” and clicking send.

Whilst fixing your hair, a delightful chime told you he’d responded. 

‘Was abt to go to bed, guess not lmao’

Your heart skipped a beat as you read the next message,

‘ Call?’

You set down your brush and asked, ‘ Discord?’

Your phone vibrated as he said, ‘i’m in bed so, like, call call is easier’

Something about the words “I’m in bed” sent your mind absolutely into a frenzy- curse your dirty-ass mind.  You shooed away the stupid thoughts and butterflies, and responded in agreement while navigating to the phone app.  Just as you did his incoming call filled up your screen, and you accepted. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, good morning.”  George’s voice was low and raspy, and it was clear that he was laying down.  

You masked your unhealthy embarrassment with a giggle.  “Erm, good night?  You weren’t kidding about that sleep schedule, huh,” you laughed, as did he.  It was low and rough, unlike his usual voice but still recognizable in the pattern of his laughter.  You were beyond flustered but still managed to keep it together as you headed to the kitchen to grab your bag and a snack. 

“Off to uni then?” he asked, and you hummed in agreement.  You made your way out the door and into the cloudy yet bright morning, the path to the bus stop ingrained in the back of your mind for you to follow.  This was one of the only two classes you had in person, since the quarantine had allowed for a few departments to open up.  Having to get up and ready wasn’t particularly exciting for you, but it was a good change of pace from attending class in your pajamas.  

“So how was your night- erm, or day, I guess, then?” you asked.  

“Productive- Dream and I finished up a few thumbnails and video concepts.  We didn’t get to filming but… that’s Sapnap’s fault, and his stupid streaming schedule.”  

“Well at least he streams!” you joked.  

“Hey, I’m… busy.” 

“Busy teaching me to speedrun?” 

“Hm, maybe I’ll cancel the lessons then!”

“Wait no, no it’s alright!  I won’t guilt trip you into streaming anymore.”

“I’m just messing with you.”  You felt his sleepy voice soften and almost melted at the shift, hearing bedsheets rustle through the call as he probably tried to get comfortable. 

“Do you do this often?  Calling in bed, I mean.” 

“Well yeah, I mean the only people I really call are my friends so it doesn’t really seem strange I guess.”  You hummed. 

“Ah, when you say it like that it makes sense.”

“Wait, what were you thinking of then?”  

“What?  Nothing!  I dunno it’s just… the wording I guess,” you stammered.

“Uh, well I suppose I see how that could be taken… weirdly.  You win.”

You laughed, and continued talking until you made it to the bus stop.  Taking a glance at your watch it seemed you were a few minutes early. 

“So, are you up for Minecraft again tonight?” you asked.

“Oh, I wish  I could but I’ve got some shit to do.”

“Oh.  That’s fine.”  You tried your best to hide your petty disappointment, but it probably came through a bit.

“I’ve got a stream to be on,” he continued, “and knowing Dream he’s probably gonna make me help him edit or something.”

“Oh, what stream?” 

“Just my friend Quackity, he begged me to be on it so… there’s only so many excuses I can give him.”

“Do you not like him?”

“What? Oh, no, no!  It’s not like that.  He’s hilarious, his streams are a blast.  They just take a lot out of me, plus it's on the smp which probably means roleplay.” 

You tried to pretend to know what he was talking about, but got the general idea.  The happiness in his tone mixed with his sleepy voice was something you knew you couldn’t live without after getting a taste of.  And, you knew for sure you’d have a stream to watch tonight.  

As the bus pulled up with a deafening screech you said goodbye and ‘goodnight’, your smile not fading even as the almost-empty bus began it’s route.  You popped on a song- Mr Brightside.

Closing your eyes and thinking, nothing in the world felt better.  Well, maybe sitting next to George would- but at that moment you were complete.  You were happy. 

It started out with a kiss

How did it end up like this?

It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss.

Chapter Text

Your concentrated eyes once again hung over a screen of blocks, frantically swinging at a pure black creature with glowing purple eyes.  

“I swear if you die now-”  George began.

“Aghhh!”

You huffed as ‘YOU DIED’ lit up the screen in red, knowing that a similar message appeared at the left corner of George’s.  

“Seriously?!  We’re literally in the End!”  George exclaimed.

“I’m sorry!!  Those things were too fast, I couldn’t kill them all!”  You cried in protest.  Those stupid endermen; you’d had full diamond and were so close to beating the game with George. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine.  Good thing we set our spawn- just go through the portal again and grab your stuff.  I’m almost done getting the crystals-” 

“Right, got it.”  As you clicked the respawn button you were suddenly back in the creepy stronghold, and hopped through the ink-black portal.  You were ashamed to admit that sweat had begun beading on your forehead from all of this gaming- you’d spent at least the past 2 hours, maybe more, gathering materials and learning how to play the game all for this moment.  “Don’t kill it all the way,” you reminded George.  

“I won’t, although I might if you keep taking your sweet time!”  His voice always softened when he made a joke like that, as if worried you might get offended this time despite having gone at each other for two hours.  

“Oh I’m sorry, it’s almost like this is my first time playing!”  He laughed sharply in concentration as you heard another explosion through his headset.  

“Boom, there’s the last one,” he said as you picked up all your stuff from where it was left in the middle of the circle of obsidian towers.  You put on your armor as fast as humanly possible with your small amount of experience, and met him at the bedrock portal that lay in the center. 

“Alright, so the dragon’s gonna swoop down in a few seconds.  Remember those beds I gave you?  Place one down right there.” 

You followed his instructions, placing a block in front of it like he told you to.  

“Now when I say go, click the bed.  Can you do that?” 

“Yeah,” you said determinedly.  “Won’t that blow up though?” 

George chuckled.  “Yep.  Go!”

You clicked it right as the dragon appeared and- 

Boom!   It’s already halfway empty health bar lowered down to zero as it exploded in a flash of white and purple.  

“Let’s go!!!” you both cheered, giving each other a virtual high-five punch in the game. 

“We did it!” you said, pumping your fist in the air. 

“You did it, congrats on your first win!” 

“Oh, like I could’ve done it without you, George!  You basically did it yourself- I just get the credit!”  You both laughed wholeheartedly.  

The sun had set, stars were up and barely visible through your window.  The sound of your fan, George’s voice and the game were all that filled your bedroom and the dim lamp and computer screen were all that provided light.  You were practically sealed to the chair after having sat in it for so long, but you didn’t mind.  It’d been hours but felt like minutes, every moment of giggles and sarcasm cherished in your heart. 

You’d argued over the best type of wood, where to build a house (George didn’t even want to at all) and whether or not to get netherite (you’d insisted that the nether was too annoying to stay in for any longer than necessary).  A myriad of memories in just one gameplay, in one complete game of Minecraft that George had probably played hundreds of.  Still, you hoped you’d made this one special for him.  You thought you did, anyway. 

“What now?” you asked giggling.  

“What do you mean?  We beat the game!”  George said.  His voice was still just as expressive after having talked for so long, while yours was pretty burnt out and raspy.  It was his job, you supposed.  He must be used to it.  

“So I can’t go see my dog again?” you asked somberly.

“I mean, you can- just go through the portal.”  He gestured to the portal that’d appeared next to the egg.  

“Oh,” you said, feeling dumb.  You jumped through, coming back to reality as your eyes glossed over the congratulatory messages.  

“This takes a while,” he said, sighing and probably stretching by the straining sound in his voice.  

“Ah, that was fun,” you said through a yawn.  “So what do you want to do?” 

He yawned as well.  “I dunno, you wanna log off?” 

“Not without seeing my dog!” you exclaimed.  A good excuse- you just didn’t want to say goodbye to him just yet. 

“Fine, fine.”

You both sat for a moment in silence as text kept scrolling down a dirt- patterned credits screen.  

You couldn’t help your mind from running away from you.  What did he look like at this very moment, speaking to you through a discord call whilst playing Minecraft?  What did he look like stretching, or yawning, or sighing?  Was his hair messed up, were his clothes ruffled...

“Hey, I’ve got a question- what are you wearing right now?”  Once again, your tongue moved faster than your mind.  Within a second you regretted what you’d just said, cursing your curiosity for getting the better of you.  

“Uh, a t-shirt?  And pajama bottoms… why?”

Good question. 

“I dunno, just curious.  I’m wearing the same thing.”  His answer just made you more inclined to want to see him- but that would be too much.  You’d already let your tongue slip one too many times tonight.  

George laughed.  Giggled, perhaps, was a better word.  A sound that lit up your room and your eyes, making your heart melt with comfort.  

“What?” you asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said.  

“What is it?” 

“Nothing I said!” 

“Tell me!” you demanded, sitting upright. 

“Nothing, it’s just that… I’d bet you’re too chicken to turn your camera on right now.” 

Your heart skipped a beat.  So he’d been thinking the same as you?  You quickly clicked open the camera app on your phone and switched it to selfie mode to examine how you looked.  

“I’ll turn it on if you do.”

Your hair was messy and matted, face rather puffy after having stared at a computer screen for hours.  Your oversized t-shirt was crumpled as well, but there was something a bit charming about how you looked after fixing your hair and shirt a bit.  Just put together enough to look presentable, but somehow endearing in your sleepy and ready-for-bed state. 

That and your overflowing desire to see George’s face gave you confidence- the dangerous kind. 

“Fine.”  

As soon as he murmured his response, you clicked the discord tab in front of the game.  Somehow you could feel the smirk in his voice, without even seeing him yet.  

You were nervous.  This was the first time someone would be seeing you in this sort of way on a zoom call.  Messy and, well, real.  But the fact that it was George made you feel both at ease, and incredibly anxious.  

“You seem nervous,” he said.  Could he feel your anxiety through the screen?

“What makes you say that?”  

“You’ve been tapping on your desk for the past minute.”

“Oh.”  Embarrassment probably made your face more puffy, but you couldn’t be bothered to care at this point. 

“Okay okay, don’t be nervous.  It’s just me, it’s just for fun,” he said, and calmness immediately flooded over you.  It’s just him. 

You laughed.  “You’re right, you're right.  I’m just being stupid- let’s do it.” 

“Alright, on three.  One…”  You hovered over the camera icon.

“Two…”  You quickly twisted a strand of your hair with the other hand. 

“Three!” 

As you clicked on the icon, suddenly a pop-up came up: ‘Allow Discord to use your camera?’

You groaned.  “I forgot to allow camera!  I’m an idiot,” you said as you allowed it, but not before catching George’s smiling face that filled half of your discord screen. 

“Wow, what an elaborate excuse for not turning it on,” George’s voice teased.

And on video, he was laughing.  Live.  His dimples and smile and eyes, just like on twitch- but just for you.  

The second you allowed camera access, your face lit up the second half of the screen next to him.

You laughed at the sight- you and him, your faces on discord together, being idiots.  Your face was heating by the second, feeling watched by his warm gaze, as you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him.  You were bright pink, although luckily your lighting helpt obscure it- and maybe it was just your imagination, but it looked like he was pink as well.  

“Wow, I like your LED lights,” you commented quickly trying to break the thick wall of tension.  He glanced behind him at the blue lights that framed his room as if reminding himself they were there, and you felt your blush deepen upon seeing his handsome side profile.  

You were being a total idiot, but at this point you were in too deep to save yourself.  

“Erm, thanks.  I like your…” he trailed off and you giggled uncontrollably, knowing there was nothing directly in your background for him to comment on.  

“My face?  How kind of you,” you said as sarcastically as you could, watching as he looked down and his face became slightly redder.  Something about him being just as uncomfortable as you was endlessly funny, not to mention comforting.

“Aren’t you supposed to be used to a camera on you?”  You asked teasingly. 

“Well yeah, but…” he trailed off again, annoying you.  

“But what?”

“But… this is different, I guess.  I wasn’t prepared.”  

You bit your tongue from making a hair gel joke or something of that sort. 

“Yeah…” it was your turn to trail off.  You were quiet for a moment, looking intently at everything and anything in your room except from your computer screen. 

“Hey,” he said softly, and you brought yourself to look at him.  His eyes were much less intimidating through a screen, but no less piercing.  You saw the corner of his mouth twitch up ever so slightly, and be brought a finger to his lips in the most attractive way imaginable.  You were plastered to your seat, unable to move an inch.  

He let out a soft chuckle as though he were about to say a joke, but didn’t.  

Instead, soft as a whisper, he asked, “Are you blushing?”

Chapter Text

“Blushing?!” you exclaimed.  “No, no, it’s just hot-” 

“You’re totally blushing!”  The George from before was back- as he sat up in his chair and leaned forward a bit, his voice went back to light and joking.  And in response, your tone went back to normal, unclouded by embarrassment and fluster.  Well, not really- but at least you were able to speak. 

“I am not, George!  It’s hot in here, and I’ve been stressing out over beating the bloody ender dragon for the last hour!”  You enunciated each syllable as if trying to convince yourself in addition to him of what you were saying. 

George snickered, still looking up at the camera with his head tilted down sexily.  It drove you mad.  

“I’m serious, you’re just making this more awkward than it needs to be!” you scolded, and turned off your camera.  

“Wait!  Wait, okay, I’m sorry.  Turn it back on, I won’t say anything-” 

“Nope!” 

“Please!”  He looked straight into the camera with puppy dog eyes, pouting his lips just slightly and raising his chin.  You were terribly thankful that he couldn’t see you as you melted pathetically at the adorable sight.  You were useless and infatuated, and there was no way in hell you could hide it.  

“Fine.”  You clicked your camera back on, averting your eyes and trying to become as small as you could.  

He smiled at you, and you couldn’t help smiling back.  You tried your best to read him, but the more you looked the more you blushed.  He must have gotten a haircut between now and the last time you saw him; the sides were neatly shaven but the top was still a fluffy mop under his headphones.  Cute. 

“Alright, here I am,” you said. 

“Yup, and here I am.  Although I bet you’re used to that from seeing my streams.”

“Hey, don’t get so full of yourself!  I’ve only watched a couple,” you protested, but to your annoyance he just kept smirking that stupid smirk.  

“Ah right, right.  I can imagine you, sitting in your room, watching me play Minecraft live-” 

“Shut up!”  You were actually getting frustrated now, especially with how stupidly and mockingly husky his voice had gotten.  He saw right through you, and he was playing with you. 

But he didn’t stop. 

“With my facecam on, talking to my friends…” George continued.  

“What’s your point?  You trying to fan your ego or something?” 

“No, no.  I’m sorry, I’m being an arsehole.”  He paused.  “I just… I like seeing you flustered.”

You peered up at him curiously, his face now angled downwards so that you could barely trace his features.  The dim light of his blue LEDs and computer were soft and sultry.

“Eh?” was all you managed. 

“I… fuck, I’m being stupid.”  One moment George was bright pink, and the next his screen was black save for his discord profile picture.  

“Hey!  Turn your camera back on,” you cried.  He’d been so embarrassed that he’d turned off his webcam?  

“No.” 

“Why not?  Pussy,” you said, smirking.  “Flustered, are we?” 

“Shut up- I said something I shouldn’t’ve, okay?  Forget about it, please.” 

Your gaze softened.  “Alright.  But… I want to talk.  Please, I want to see your face.”  You bit your lip gently.  “Please?” 

You heard a sigh, and George’s face reilluminated the screen.  Delight sparkled in your eyes- something about his features matching his words made you feel at ease.  

And suddenly, all of your feelings began bubbling to the surface.  The embarrassment, the nervousness, the desire… 

You wanted to talk.  You wanted to tell him.  You wanted to take a chance. 

“Alright, can I… ask you something?”  You said tentatively.  The sharp voice in the back of your head remained; the slew of what-ifs and buts, the fears and anxieties.  

“Sure?”  Aas George shifted in his seat, you felt a calm wash over you.  Whether or not he felt the same… it’d be okay.  You knew it would.  After all, it was just a silly crush.  

Wasn’t it? 

“Okay.  What am I to you?” 

He looked taken aback by the question, and rightfully so.  You didn’t even know what to expect as an answer, and even the moment it left your lips you were filled with doubts. 

“Erm, what do you mean?  A friend… I guess.”

You nodded.  The way he bit his lip was terribly attractive.  

“George, would you like to be more than that?”  

You couldn’t meet his eyes, so you locked your gaze on the camera at the top of your computer screen instead.  As if peering into his soul, when in reality you were too cowardly to even sneak a glance.  

And to your surprise, he looked back at you- or, well, into the camera.  But it felt like he was looking right at you, even through you.  A chill went down your spine, but you were frozen to the spot as his lips parted to respond. 

His answer was nothing more than a whisper, a murmur that you quite easily could’ve missed if your volume wasn’t turned up obnoxiously loud.  

“Sure.”

You’d almost second guessed what you heard, believing for a moment that it was nothing more than a manifestation of you longing.  A fantasy dancing in your ears, a taunt sent by your evil, evil mind.  But no, it was real.  You’d heard it.  

But not before you stupidly let out a “hm?” 

George chuckled, holding his head in his hands.  

“I said yes,” he repeated, redness rising to his face much like heat rose to yours.  

“Oh,” you practically breathed.  “Oh,” you said a bit louder, “Oh, wait- you’re serious?”

Suddenly it was like all the tension had popped like a bubble.  Left with the awkwardness that remained in your palms.

George nodded, smiling.  “Yeah, sure.”

“Like, more than friends?” 

“That’s what you asked, was it not?”  

You were smiling stupidly, unable to comprehend that you hadn’t just been completely shut down.  That GeorgeNotFound had just accepted your proposal.

“Yea…” you trailed off, unsure of how to continue.  And as if on cue, your Minecraft tab that was still open suddenly lit up, and you yelped being blinded by the brightness of the overworld.  

George laughed, wholeheartedly laughed.  “Guess the credits are over!” 

“I noticed!” you said, rubbing your eyes to adjust.  “I guess I can see my dog now!” 

You positioned your tabs so that you could still see George and your discord videos, but also play the game.  And as you ran over to find your house, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t glancing at his face every other millisecond. 

“Wait, wait- you can’t just change the subject like that!”  George complained.  He was also in-game but looked much less focused than you were.  Then again, the game was like second nature to him, wasn’t it.  

“Well, I didn’t really know how to… you know,” you admitted.

“How to what?  Ask me on a date?”  

You almost choked, caught off guard by his question. 

“What?!  Um, well-” 

“You’re the one that made the first move!”  George interjected.  “Isn’t that how this stuff works?”  

“How would I know?”  You asked incredulously.  

“You’re the one that- okay, nevermind.  I know nothing about this stuff either, probably less to be honest, so I really shouldn’t be talking.  But still, isn’t it kinda…” 

“Coffee!!” You exclaimed suddenly, tuning out whatever George was saying as you approached you minecraft dog that adorned a yellow collar.  As you hovered your mouse over it, the name ‘Coffee” appeared above.  You smiled, thinking of how the name had come about.  

“Hm?  Kinda what?” you mused.  

“Nothing, nothing,” he said, as he made his character crouch next to the dog.  You laughed, taking a screenshot.  You moved your gaze from the glasses-wearing avatar to his real face.  He was smiling softly at the lower half of the computer, and you couldn’t help feeling yourself slipping once again. 

“Hey George?”  You asked, and he hummed in response without moving his gaze.  “Will you go on a date with me?” 

George peered up, eyes sparkling and corners of his mouth lifting.  

“Sure,” he said, grinning.  

And you sighed, a long, happy sigh.  For you were going on a date with that boy you’d met at a coffee shop all those weeks ago.  And you just couldn’t wait. 

Chapter Text

It was impossible to sleep that night.  You kept tossing and turning and thinking and thinking until finally you caved and pulled out your phone.  Almost immediately you pulled up twitter and scrolled down far enough to find GeorgeNotFound’s latest tweet.

I miss minecraft

You smiled.  He was so dumb.  

The sour future of a groggy morning awaited you in only a few hours, but you didn’t care.  You wanted to talk to him again, you wanted to listen to him at least.  You two had ended the call surprisingly easily after the whole date thing, not sharing any details of time or place or, well, even feelings.  The feelings kind of just hung in between you like an unsaid thing.  Crossing that threshold of ‘more than friends’, as vague as it was, said everything it needed to.  Hinting at something romantic perhaps, but more importantly, at something more .  At something exciting, new- something you’d be exploring together.  That was the best part of it all. 

You hugged the phone close to you as you checked to see if he was online on discord, but alas, he wasn’t.  So you settled for watching an old twitch vod, letting his laughter and soothing voice lull you to sleep.

After classes the next day, you were practically glued to your computer just waiting for him to get online.  You’d messaged him prior, but he was most likely either napping or avoiding you.  You entertained the latter for a while before eventually calming down your anxieties and being realistic.  

And finally, at 6 pm, he was on. 

‘Minecraft?’ 

‘Were you waiting for me to be online?’

‘...no..’

‘Log on, i’ll meet you in’

You flushed at him exposing you stalking him, but laughed it off as you logged into the game.  You joined the world he’d made as you accepted an incoming discord call. 

“Hello?”  

“Hi,” George responded, his mic quality much better than yours as usual.  His voice sounded a bit groggier though.

“Did you just wake up?” you asked. 

“Yep, I recorded a bunch this morning.” 

“Ah.” You bit your lip, wondering how to begin unpacking the night before.  

“So… about last night,” you began. 

“Yeah?” he said casually.  

You paused.  “Erm, well, do you have any ideas?” 

“For what?” 

“A date!” you huffed. 

“Oh.”  Was he chewing something?  You assumed so, his voice was muffled.  “Well, you’re the one that asked me, so technically that’s your job.” 

“Wait- I mean you’re right, but really?”  You’d clearly gotten the idea that it’d be more of a discussed plan, but apparently not.  It'd been a while since you’d done the whole dating thing.

“Yup,” he said through a mouthful.  

“What’re you eating?” you asked, shifting the subject.  You’d figure out the date thing later.

“Cereal.”

“Is that your breakfast?” 

“Yeah.”  You were getting annoyed with his monotone one word answers.   

“Turn your camera on,” you said suddenly. 

“What?”  

“Turn your camera on, I wanna see you.”  You did want to see him, but you also wanted to force him to be more expressive- one word answers just weren’t going to cut it.  Plus, you liked seeing him squirm.

“I just rolled out of bed, cmon,” he protested.  You fixed your hair quickly, though you knew you looked pretty presentable already after having to be outside for the early portion of the day. 

“I don’t care, turn it on!”  You clicked yours on, and flashed him a pleading smile. 

He grunted, but obliged.  

George’s face, covered halfway by a cereal bowl appeared on your discord tab, and you grinned.  He was wearing a loose-fitting t-shirt and his hair was much messier than you’d ever seen in videos.  It was cute, the way it framed his face and swooped down over his forehead. 

“Finally, jeez.  Aren’t you the one that’s used to a facecam?” 

He grunted again, eating a mouthful of cereal.  “Yeah, but not when I’ve just woken up,” he said while eating.  You looked away disgustedly as crumbs dotted his upper lip, and burst into laughter.  

“Y’know, I should probably get a snack too.  Gimme a sec,” you said, getting up and turning around without turning the camera off.  You made your way to the kitchen quickly, grabbing a granola bar and a water bottle, and sat back down.  

The fact that you knew your outfit was cute that day had absolutely nothing to do with your decision to stand up.

“Alright, so, Minecraft?” you asked.

“Sure,” he said through a mouthful, setting down the bowl to log in.  “Same world?” 

“I guess,” you shrugged, taking a bite of your snack. 

“What do you even do after you beat the ender dragon?” 

“Hm?  Whaddya mean?” you asked. 

“Like, we beat the game, what else is there to do?”  

You gave him a weird look.  “I mean, shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

He shrugged.  “I dunno, the fun bits over isn’t it?  Now there’s no goal, I guess.” 

“Wait, I have an idea.”  Your eyes lit up.  “Let's go on a Minecraft date!”

George looked at you quizzically, looking so confused that you let out a laugh.  

“Oh come on!  It’ll be fun,” you chirped, hitting him in-game to get his attention and running outside your house.  “Wait, can we ride those?” you asked, spotting a bunch of horses in the sunflower field.  

You both took about 20 minutes finding a saddle after you insisted on taming a horse, and once you did you probably took an additional 20 minutes learning how to ride it.  But once you did, it was smooth sailing… almost. 

“Okay, so where are we going then?”  George asked. 

“I dunno, somewhere pretty!” 

You took the lead on your white stallion, running through forests and plains all while ever so often glancing at George whose camera was still on.  Seeing him concentrated warmed your face, and you giggled whenever he caught your eye.  You made sure to not let the sparkles in his irises fade.  There was a nagging voice in your head, telling you that you were a bother to him.  That his time was better spent with someone else, doing anything else.  But the light that danced in his eyes told you otherwise. 

As long as they stayed, you were reassured. 

Chapter Text

Your fingers were sore from pressing the W key and mouse.  You and your trusty Minecraft horse (that you’d affectionately named Bean) and George of course had been adventuring in a single direction for about half a virtual day.  In search of what, you were yet to figure out.

“Find ‘somewhere pretty’ yet?” George groaned lightly.  You laughed. 

“Be patient!  We’re almost there- probably.”  In truth, you had no clue if there even was a biome in the game that would be good enough for your Minecraft date.  But you’d run until you found one. 

“Do you even know what you’re looking for?” he asked again.  George’s webcam was still on, as was yours.  They were squished to the side of your computer screen to make room for the game, but you kept the corner of your eye on his smirk to make sure that it didn’t go away.  You’d been playing for a while, but not long enough to satisfy you.  He’d luckily let it slip that he didn’t have anything important to do with the rest of his day, so you intended to take full advantage of that. 

You were about to give him an answer when you bounded up a shallow hill- and there it was.  The place you'd been looking for.

You let out a gasp for effect, but you really were taken away by the game’s beauty.  Before you and George, and your horses, was a field bursting with flowers.  The sun was quickly rising to the east, painting the sky above with periwinkle and lavender.  But in the endless garden below was a rainbow: vibrant purples, bold reds and yellows, soft pinks.  A few birch trees were dotted here and there, and what you first thought were giant lemons but later learned were beehives under them.  

And then, almost immediately, you looked at George.  He was smiling, and looking back at you.  You’d just begun to notice how dark it’d gotten in his room, and outside, although your lamp light kept your area illuminated.  

“Here,” you said, turning your attention back at the game.

“Haha, you picked my favorite biome,” George laughed.  "How'd you know?"

“Wait really? It is?” 

“Yep, I like flower forests.”

You and your horse galloped right into the middle of the blooming fields to find a spot to stop- or at least you tried to.  You ended up falling in to a lake.

“Wow, what’s the time on that?  Five whole seconds without falling into water- impressive,” George teased. 

“Shut up and help me!"

Luckily getting out was no problem with George’s help, although panicking from the fear of Bean drowning probably didn’t help.  

And finally, after spending 10 minutes to figure out how to put a dang lead on your horse and tie it to a fence, you relaxed.  

You picked up a nearby flower- a cute red one, that matched the design on his shirt. Trying your best to look cute, you crouched next to him, looked up and dropped it at his feet. 

“For you,” you said, scrunching up your face as he picked it up and held it. 

“Ah, thank you!  Yellow, is it?” 

“What?” you asked, confused.  “No, red.” 

“Oh, sorry.”  He looked down sadly both in Minecraft, and in real life for extra drama.  Oh- 

“Wait, George, you’re colourblind?” you asked innocently.  

“Yep,” he said, nodding in game. 

“Oh!  Woah, really?  What color am I?” you grinned, interest immediately piqued. 

“Oh, you’re blue.  I can see blue just fine, pink too mostly.  Just the other ones get a bit jumbled.” George explained.  

“Ah I see,” you said.  You’d had no idea, and honestly felt stupid for not figuring it out before.  He must have had a video or post about it somewhere… you just hadn’t seen it.  

You immediately ran to the nearest pink flower that you could find, and offered it to him instead.  

“Here, pink!” 

“Aww, thank you,” he said.  He sounded genuinely touched, and so were you by the way he beamed ear to ear.  

Fascinating, really, how a simple gesture in a video game could fill both your hearts to the brim.

You wandered around for a while, George on your tail, picking up pretty-looking flowers and asking George to tell what color they looked like. 

And, you might have learned the hard way that bees don't like to be tapped- after a lot of scolding on George's end.  And a lot of screaming on yours. 

But after all that, when the sun was beginning to lower and you made your way to where the sandy shore met the field of flowers, you were ready for your Minecraft date.  

"Here!  Date time.  First, George, turn off your camera," you told him.

“Why?” he asked, giving you puppy dog eyes through the screen.  “You don’t want to see my face?” 

You couldn’t help melting at that.  “No, no- god, stop looking at me like that!"  You shook your head.  "I just want a fully Minecraft experience, ya know?  No faces." 

He made an O shape with his mouth as you both turned off your cameras, leaving you with just your profile pictures floating in a dark gray discord call.  

“Alright, Monsieur Not Found, come this way,” you announced in a faux french accent.  George giggled, and somehow the sound felt more lively reaching your ears than with cameras on. 

“Okay, what is this,” he sighed, following you.  You led him to the seashore, and placed down a block of wooden planks between you.  

“Hush- just a moment!” you scolded, not dropping the french accent.  You hastily made your way over to his side, and placed a stair block facing the planks, then did the same on your side.  You stepped back, revealing the ‘table and chairs’ that you’d just proudly created. 

Ok, fine- it sort of looked like a lowercase W- but if you ignored that and used your imagination, it worked.  

“Ah, I see- how lovely of you to treat me to dinner, Madame, ” George responded, the last word said in a French accent.  The huskiness to his tone sent sparkling shivers down your spine, and you felt heat rise to your face as you chuckled lightly. 

“Okay, sit down,” you ordered and he crouched in the seat, same as you.  You pulled out a steak from your inventory and dropped it down on the table. 

“The first course.” 

“Erm, my hunger bar is full,” George said bashfully. 

“Well… that’s awkward, now isn’t it,” you laughed.  “More for me.”  You insatiably right-clicked to eat the rest of the ‘meal’ you’d prepared, which in reality had just been 2 steaks and some bread. 

“Okay, wait, that’s all I had planned,” you admitted.  “What’re you even supposed to do on dates?” 

“I wouldn’t know,” George mumbled.  There was a touch of sadness to his tone, and you felt the energy shift.

“Hey George, can I ask you something?”  You didn’t wait for a response- somehow in the absence of seeing each other’s faces, your confidence had risen.  “Have you ever had a girlfriend before?” 

He seemed startled by the question, shifting a bit in his seat.  “Yeah, I have,” he said finally.  You could tell he was telling the truth… but why be reluctant to share it?

“Oh.”  You tried not to sound disappointed- you weren’t, obviously, but sometimes a quiver in your voice could betray you.  Luckily it didn’t.  “Just one?” 

“No, two.  Well, erm, I guess one technically, but, like, 2 relationships I guess.” 

You thought for a moment.  “So you weren’t, like, labeled?” 

“Yeah, exactly.  It’s not important anyway, didn’t last more than a month.” 

“And the other?” 

“Nothing too serious either… just some uni girl.”  Something in his voice told you he was lying.  It must have been at least a little bit serious, if not more.  

“Oh I see.”  You paused.  “Y’know, George, you could have anyone.” 

“Hm?  What?” 

You gulped, sort of regretting your statement.  “I mean, you know that you could have any girl you wanted, right?  In the world.” 

“Hah, don’t make me laugh,” George said.

“No, I’m serious!  Tell me you’ve been on twitter, like, once.  You know it.” 

“What, that?  Oh, that’s not… I dunno.  That’s not… real.” 

You considered that for a moment.  “What do you mean?” 

“I mean…” George hesitated.  “I mean, they like GeorgeNotFound.  Like, the YouTuber, the ‘celebrity’ even- but, it’s weird to like someone that you don’t really know, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose that makes sense.”  It hurt you to admit, but you’d found yourself falling for his persona the more that you watched his vods and videos.  It took moments like these to remind yourself that he was different with the camera off.  That he was real like this.

“Then, if all that stuff isn’t real to you, then what is?” 

You weren’t expecting it, but suddenly your gaze turned to the left of your computer screen where George had just turned his camera on.  His smile was faint but his eyes were shining, and his room was pretty much swallowed in darkness.  The only light that bounced off his features was from the computer screen. 

“This is.”

Chapter Text

If all this stuff isn’t real to you, then what is?

This is.

You had to remind yourself to breathe in the shower when replaying last night’s conversation in your mind.  

After that line you’d been a sputtering mess the rest of the night- going on about how much his fans loved him and how great it was to be admired by so many people around the world.  But all the while he looked at you (your camera turned on at this point) with a certain look in his eyes that haunted you all through the night and into the morning. 

Dreamy- no.  Aloof- nah.  Sleepy- probably, but there was something else to it.  Something that sent the best kinds of shivers down your spine as your mind’s eye replicated it. 

But you shooed off the memories as you made your way to your desk for morning classes.  Before they started, though, you gave George a call.  

“You awake?” you greeted.

“Yep.”  There it was again- the strange layer to his words that appeared yesterday when he said ‘this is’ and goodnight.  

“So you’ve been up since 5 yesterday?” 

“More or less.”

“And you’re sleeping… when?” 

“Whenever I get sleepy,” he said, yawning. 

“You sound sleepy.  You should go to bed,” you hummed.

“You’re not my mum.”

“I’d sure hope not.”

He chuckled.  “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Oh, nothing,” you sang.  For starters, it’d be beyond weird for a mum to have the thoughts you did about George. 

“Don’t you have school?” George asked.  You were flattered that he even considered that for you. 

“Yes, actually- starting in a few minutes.” 

George yawned again, making you yawn as well.  “Call me later, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he said groggily.  “Wait- when else are you free besides 6-8?  I’ve got recording stuff with the boys I think.”  

“Oh, I’m free pretty much the rest of the night.  I can get all my stuff done before then.”  That wasn’t quite true but… if you had to work your schedule around George’s, then so be it.  Even if you thought it was idiotic to warp your sleep schedule around that of two Americans.  

But luckily, an idea occurred to you.

“Wait, can I listen in?  Like, while you record?”  You were pretty sure he was going to say no, but it was worth a shot.

“Hm?  You want to… listen?” 

“Yeah!  It’ll be interesting, I won’t get in your way or anything.  I’ll be on deafen or whatever.” 

“Um…” George clearly seemed uncomfortable, but you were too persistent to let go now. 

“Alright, I’ll ask them.  I’ll text you, kay?” 

“Yes!  Thank you,” you cheered.  You couldn’t tell if you were excited as George’s friend or as a fan, but regardless getting to hear a recording session with the Dream Team seemed like a blast.  

And… it wasn’t.  A recording session, that is.  But it was indeed a blast. 

As soon as you hopped online after classes, you were greeted by an invite to a server.  4 members, 3 online.  Manhunt was the name.

You accepted and tentative typed a hello in the general chat.  

The voice call had 3 people in it, but the only ones you knew were Dream and George.  Or at least you recognized them from their profile pictures: their nicknames were enough to get a giggle out of you.  Dream’s was ‘bitchass 1’, George’s was ‘bitchass 2’ and the last one was just ‘bitch’.  So this was their kind of friendship.  

‘Hi join vc ’ George had messaged below your greeting.  You smiled and joined, your cheap headphones filled with the laughs of 3 voices.  

“Hi!” you squeaked, scared that they might have been in the middle of recording.  

“Hey!” George said, the familiarity of his voice immediately calming your nerves.  He was much more energetic than any other time you’d spoken to him, and he immediately introduced him. 

“I know her, George!” you heard Dream say as his icon lit up.  

“Hi, nice to meet you,” said the other voice- that you immediately identified as Sapnap from all their videos.   

“Oh, hi, um, Sapnap?” you said tentatively.  It felt weird saying the name out loud.  He chuckled. 

“Yeah, what, had George not told you about me?”  His mic was a bit soft so you turned it up on discord.  “He’s told me all about you!”  He said teasingly. 

“You’re such an idiot,” George huffed as you and Dream laughed.  This was so weird- but somehow you were doing okay. 

“Oh, what’s he told you?” you asked, both out of genuine curiosity and also to spite George a little. 

“Oh all kinds of stuff!  Like how pretty-” 

“I’m gonna mute you!”  George threatened.

“You’re not even admin!” 

“I know, dumbass!”  

“Okay shut up both of you!” Dream interjected.  “Just cus this is the first time George has talked to a girl in literal years doesn’t mean-” 

“Oh I swear to god-” 

Your sides hurt from laughing at their back and forth that went on for probably longer than it should have.  By the time they brought up each other’s mums you practically felt as comfortable as you would’ve if you’d known them for years.  Their energy- it was contagious.  

“Okay, we, like, actually have to test this thing,” George finally said.  “If you want,” he said to you, “you can join the world and test the program with us.  I’ll send the IP.” 

“Wait, isn’t this being recorded?” 

“Nah, not today.  We still have some more kinks to work out- stop laughing Sapnap- so we’ll just test it for now.”

“Oh!  Cool!  So I can talk then?” 

Dream laughed.  “If you can handle talking to us for more than 5 minutes, sure thing.”

Chapter Text

As soon as you joined the Minecraft world, you were surrounded by zombies.  

“What-” you could barely punch before you were killed by at least 5 of them swarming you.  “What just happened?” 

George laughed as you respawned, immediately dying again.  The third time you noticed that he was flying above you in creative mode. 

“Hey, give me creative mode too!” 

“You’re our guinea pig,” George chuckled, as you died again.  Thankfully he took pity on you and switched your gamemode. 

“Yeah… so Dream, we’ve gotta lower the spawn rate by, like, a lot” he said to his bright green friend who was also flying around.  

“Yeah- I’ll adjust how fast it spawns them in at first too.  Like, it should ease in more.” 

“What are you guys talking about?”  You were beyond confused, looking down at the now hundreds of zombies that covered the forest you’d spawned in.  They weren’t burning despite some being in direct sunlight.  “How are they not dying?!” 

“That’s the new video!” Sapnap began explaining.  “It’s, like, a zombie apocalypse kinda thing.  George can explain it better.” 

“Yeah, the idea is to make zombies a lot stronger, plus make them able to spawn in the sun.  And instead of beating the game, we have to just survive, for like, 30 minutes I think.  Or an hour- we still have to work out the details.”  

“That actually sounds pretty cool!” you chirped.  George and Dream kept going back and forth about details and logistics, and a bunch of complicated coding stuff that you couldn’t even begin to understand.  Sapnap chimed in every so often to add an idea or help them solve a problem, all whilst you helped test stuff like the amount of damage they did and if it was even possible to break blocks with them all attacking you. 

“Okay, maybe we should set a cap on the spawn amount,” Dream suggested.  “What, like, 100 per chunk?” 

“Per chunk?!  That’s insane- no, do like 50,” George responded.  

If you were being honest, you felt a bit useless during the whole process.  But that didn’t bother you.  You listened to George problem-solve and tinker with the program, his determination rising along with the level of concentration in his voice.  Whenever he figured something out, he’d get all excited and his voice would instantly become bubbly.  It was contagious, and even though you didn’t understand why half the ideas he proposed would warrant such a mood change, you were endlessly happy to hear him joyful.  

Whenever Sapnap or Dream cracked a joke, his giggles would light up your entire room.  And whenever you said something that made him laugh… it was like you were hopping on clouds.  

And finally, after about an hour, it was time to test it. 

“Okay, ready?  I’m gonna run it,” Dream said.  You were in survival mode, with nothing in your inventory, huddled in a circle with George, Sapnap and Dream.  “Go!” 

As soon as the word left his mouth zombies began spawning in every direction.  Thankfully they weren’t a horde like the first time it’d ran, giving you enough time to chop down a tree.  And shamefully by the time you gathered all of the wood from it, the team had already made a crafting bench and wooden pickaxes. 

“Here,” George said to you, tossing you one. 

“Thanks!  Behind you, George!” you called, just in time as he swung a wooden axe to kill the attacking zombie.  

Dream and Sapnap were already in a cave- it was like they were moving at lightspeed compared to you.  But George handing you full tools got you all caught up, not to mention insanely flattered by the gesture.  

All the while you were constantly pursued by zombies, and you began letting yourself ease into the ‘damsel in distress’ role more than you usually would’ve.  You let George compensate for your lack of swordsmanship, allowing him to protect you and guard you.  

And although it was stupid, every time he slayed a mob that was attacking you, it made your cheeks warm the tiniest bit.

“My knight in shining armour,” you teased, and he chuckled.  

“What does that make you?  The helpless princess?” George joked. 

“Yep.”  You were okay being a princess, if it meant you were his. 

“Hey, princess , throw me some food,” Sapnap called sarcastically.  That got a chuckle out of you. 

The rhythmic banter that continued throughout the challenge became music to your ears, and you only realized after your cheeks were sore how much you’d been smiling.  It was nice.  It was… easy.  

But of course your attention was focused 90% on George.  At times you found yourself wishing you could see his face, when he was dying from laughter at something Dream said for example.  

“George it wasn’t even that funny!”  Dream had said, trying to calm him down.  But he just kept laughing, his high-pitched giggling morphing into breathy wheezes that quickly became scary sounding cackles. 

You found yourself not able to stop laughing at his laugh, and Dream’s wheezing in the background certainly didn’t help.

“I’m… I’m sorry… I can’t… stop….” George managed between laughter, only making you laugh harder.  You had to physically take your headphones off so that you wouldn’t blow out your poor earbuds’ microphone. 

Even as you were nearing the end of the challenge, George’s laughter kept ringing in your ears.  You were pretty sure it was the closest sound in existence to pure happiness. 

“Yes, we’re gonna do it!” Dream cheered.  “And none of us died!”  

“Hey big man, don’t get too cocky- this is only the 30 minute test run,” Sapnap reminded him.  

“That felt like wayyy longer than 30 minutes,” George said, and you agreed. 

“Final 5 seconds- 5, 4, 3, 2-”

“One!” you all said together, cheering.  

“Yay, it works!  Now we can finally record this thing,” Dream said.  “First we gotta figure out who’s channel it’s going up on- one of you can have it, I just uploaded last week.” 

“George can, I have that other one remember?”  Sapnap said.  

“Ah, sure,” George said.  “Gonna take me forever to edit though.” 

“Yeah, we know,” Dream laughed.  “Anyway, I’ve got a thing to get done- I’ll talk to you guys later, yeah?” 

“Bye,” George and Sapnap both said in unison.

“Nice to talk to you again,” he said to you.  

“Oh, yeah!  Nice to talk to you too,” you said back, caught off guard.  Dream’s genuineness never failed to amaze you. 

By the time he left, you checked the time and realized with a shock that it was almost 9:00 pm.  

“Oh, shit- I’ve got to do homework,” you exclaimed.  “This was really fun, thank you guys for letting me tag along!” 

“Of course,” Sapnap said.  “Anything for George’s friend- it was nice meeting you.” 

“It was nice meeting you too!  I’ll talk to you later George, kay?” 

“Oh, sure!” George responded.  You left the call, but right before you could’ve sworn you’d heard a flirty whistle from Sapnap.  

You chuckled to yourself.  What a day.

You slipped off your earbuds, the faint echo of George’s laugh still ringing in your ears.  You wanted to hear it again- over and over again.

To be honest, you didn’t really know much of what to expect from the future.  All you knew was that if you got to hear George laugh like that again, it was bright.

Chapter Text

And then it was the next day, a bus-call with George whilst he deafened his friends on discord.  Later, he was busy so you played iMessage games with him (and painfully lost at archery).  You called him again, around midnight, and talked about his recording-filled day.  He groaned about having to stream soon, and you encouraged him to do it tomorrow since his fans miss him.  

“You’re gonna lose all your simps- I mean fans!” 

“God I hate you,” George laughed.  “Fine, fine, you convinced me.  What should I stream though, it’s been forever since I’ve been on the SMP.”

“All the more reason why you should go on it- didn’t your house get destroyed?”
“What?” You heard him sit up from his bed.  “How could you possibly know that?” 

“I dunno, twitter?”

“Wow, you know more about what’s going on in my server than I do,” he mused. 

“Hey, I get bored- plus, it’s barely your server.” 

“Oh yeah, who started it?” 

You huffed.  “You- but come on, you haven’t seen the millions of mentions telling you to check the smp?” 

“And you have?” he scoffed. 

“Yeah, I have!”  

George shifted the subject.  “That reminds me, give me your twitter handle so I can follow you.” 

“Sure- wait, that’s public though, right?  Who you follow?” 

“Oh, yeah.  You’re right- it’d be pretty suspicious if I suddenly started following a random british girl.”

“Random, huh?” you teased.

“Random to them, I mean.  You know how twitter is.”  You did, in fact- but you probably could never fear twitter the way someone in a position like George did.  One wrong move and…

“Don’t worry about it, I don’t really post much of anything,” you said. 

“No, no, still give me your handle- I can look without interacting, you know.” 

“But, like, why?”  Interesting, that he wanted to see your account so badly.  

“I just want to see what you post, that’s all!” 

“That’s all?!  Possessive much…” you chuckled.

“Not like that!” George stammered.  “I’m just, like, curious.”

You understood him.  And it wasn’t like you’d combed through every piece of text he’d written on the internet- it was only right of him to have at least some idea what kind of online persona you had.  

“Alright, fine.  But no stalking, okay?”  You gave him your handle with a laugh. 

“Okay, promise,” he snickered.  You yawned.

“Tired?” he asked, gently.  

“Yeah,” you admitted, twisting your sore wrist after holding your phone uncomfortably in bed.  “But I don’t wanna hang up.”

“It’s okay, you should probably get some rest.  I’ll call you tomorrow, alright?” 

Your heart exploded with warmth, and your eyes fluttered shut as you smiled deeply.  His words touched you, the same way you’d feel if he wrapped you in a warm hug.  

“Thank you,” you said gratefully.  “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.  Goodnight!” 

“Night!” 

Except you didn’t go to bed- no, you filled your brain with more and more videos and streams with George in it than you ever thought possible.  You found out lots about him: like that 90% of his fanbase shipped him with his best friend.  First searching up “dreamnotfound” had sent you into a frenzy, actually convinced it was real.  Luckily another google search confirmed otherwise, and you laughed at your own idiocy.  He’d confirmed he was straight after all, and you were glad he did so because  otherwise you’d probably be convinced he was actually dating Dream.  The amount of jokes they made themselves was rather suspicious, from an outsider’s perspective.  You found it all charmingly hilarious.  

More so, it made your admiration for their friendship grow.  Not just with Dream, even; with Sapnap, and Badboyhalo, and two men you later learned to be called Quackity and Karl Jacobs.  They all began to stream together often, and when George was with them you saw a side to him that you usually didn’t see.  You were grateful for that, the fact that you had the opportunity to gauge just how much his friends brought out of him.  It was being broadcasted to thousands, after all.

You fell asleep that night next to your laptop, head swarming and swirling and eventually calming. 

And just like that, it was another day.  Another call in the morning, and more Minecraft playing in the afternoon.  It was only for two hours, and Sapnap joined in to make as many comments as he could before dragging George away to stream with him. 

The following day it was George’s turn to stream, and despite missing his daily conversations which you’d become used to, hearing his voice thank donations and talk to chat was enough. 

As the weekend slowly came and went, your longest call with George going up to six hours, you began wondering if maybe you’d become a bit too attached to him.  I mean, you hadn’t even gone on a real date yet. 

Oh shit- the date!   You sat up in your bed on a Monday night, suddenly realizing that you’d completely forgotten about planning it.  

‘You’re the one that asked me, so technically that’s your job,’ George had said to you.  Gosh, that seemed like ages ago- it was 2 weeks ago at the least.

You slapped your forehead, before opening up your laptop.

Slowly, as ideas began forming in your head and organizing themselves into a plan, your anxiety retreated.  It was replaced with excitement, brimming in your eyes and heart.  

You’d never liked setting your expectations high with stuff like this, but with all the magical activities that you began planning your imagination was certainly alive.  

November 18th.  That was the date you’d chosen for your, well, date.  You’d given George a call at around 1am that night to let him know, knowing he’d still be awake. 

“I dunno if I’m free but… I’ll make myself free,” he’d said, and you fell asleep with butterflies fluttering in your stomach.  

Chapter Text

It was cloudy- well, it was London.  Obviously it was cloudy.  

The fabric of your dress danced around your calves as the wind blew it a kiss, and the chill it gave you made you glad you wore a jean jacket over it.  November was cool, but not too cold.  It was… crisp. 

You clutched the same handbag you’d worn when you first met George, pulling out your phone.  It was 11 past 4- 11 minutes later than the time you’d agreed to meet.  Of course, you weren’t anxious- but your hands certainly were, finding the nearest object to fiddle with. 

Tree branches rustled above you, between lamp posts lining the sidewalk.  You stood between a busy street and endlessly noisy cars and a barrier that came up to around your waist.  It overlooked the Thames river, and although it was dark gray and lazily resting it was still a pretty sight.  Despite not being able to see the bridge from your position, the buildings across and boats that dotted the water made the whole scene quite picturesque. 

You bit your bottom lip, thinking through the plan to make sure you had it right.  It’ll be fine , you told yourself.  

But the second you saw George emerge from a black taxi, your nerves were aflutter again.  You walked towards him as he shut the door, smiling as he spotted you from a few meters away.  

“Hi!” you greeted, somewhat awkwardly shuffling in place next to him. 

“Hi,” he responded, tugging at his navy scarf.  He looked much more fashionable this time- a beige overcoat and rather stylish caramel shoes.

You smiled looking over his outfit, and more so, him.  You hadn’t seen George beyond a discord call in almost a month.  Even so, you’d never felt like he was any different- that is, until now.  Seeing him before you, with his hair picking up soft hints of umber that you’d never quite seen before, his skin so soft that you wanted more than anything to reach out and touch it- you realized what you’d been missing.  

“So, are you going to reveal the plan now?” he asked slyly, the corners of his soft lips turning upwards.  His voice was softer in person, and there was a quality to it that didn’t quite come through on discord.  

“Nope,” you answered, taking him by his gloved hand before you could hesitate.  You led him towards the barrier that overlooked the river, and then you began walking right along it.  

“Woah, alright- what’s the rush?” He asked as you dragged him along mercilessly. 

“Sorry,” you loosened your grip.  “I’m just excited!” 

George giggled, the sparkle in his eye matching yours.  “Okay, fine.”  You walked at a pretty decent speed, not slow but not too fast.  

Despite holding his hand, you were still quite far from each other.  You wondered if you should let go, perhaps you’d been too aggressive.  But George didn’t release your hand, and that was all the reassurance you needed to continue.  Plus, it was warm.  

“You wore gloves?” you asked, teasingly. 

“Yeah, why?” George questioned. 

“It’s not that cold!” 

“What?  Yes it is!” 

“It’s not even winter,” you argued.

“Just wait until it gets later- you’ll be begging me for my jacket,” George huffed, and you both immediately blushed in embarrassment.  Begging for his jacket didn’t seem like a terrible idea. 

“Anyway,” you cleared your throat, “You’ve probably been here millions of times.” 

“Yeah, of course- but not in a while,” he admitted, and smiled at you.  “It’s… nostalgic.”

You’d tried to pick a place that’d be a conversation starter- and where better than the Thames river.  

“You know, I used to come around here to see my sister,” he said.  “She had a flat nearby- had a great view.” 

“Ah, you have a sister?” you asked.

George dipped his head yes. 

“Older, I assume?” 

“Yeah, 8 years.” he answered.

“I see.  Do you visit her often?” 

“Occasionally, she lives up north with her husband now, she drives down here every so often.” 

“That’s nice,” you cooed.  “Do they have kids?” 

“No, two dogs though.”

“Do you have any pets, George?” you asked.  You’d seen somewhere on twitter that he had a cat, but wanted to ask him personally.  

“I do, actually.  Well, they’re technically my parents, I guess, but we have a dog and a kitten.”

“Aw, I’d love to meet them!” you bubbled.  

George chuckled.  “Sure, when you come over you can see them.”  When .  He’d said when, not if. 

“I’ve always wanted a pet, they just seem like… a lot, ya know?  To take care of.” 

“Honestly, not at all.  At least in my experience, I mean.  My old cat, Luca, was so low maintenance that sometimes I forgot he was there,” he laughed.  “He was lovely, though.” 

He had a reminiscing look in his eye, that matched the sparkles in the river.  

You squeezed his hand slightly, and he smiled as though just remembering you were holding it.  You let out a soft sigh. 

“You know, George, I like you better in person,” you said suddenly.

“Hm?  Why?”

“I can hold your hand.”

George giggled, and blushed slightly.  “That it?” 

“I dunno…” you thought for a moment.  “It’s just nice, I guess.  Like, when we’re talking out loud, face to face… it feels… real.” 

“Real,” George repeated, but then frowned slightly.  “I suppose you’re right.”

“Something wrong?” you asked.

“Nothing, just… it’s strange, somehow, that most of my friends are only through the internet.  Most of them I’ve never met, yet they still mean so much to me.”

You felt your stomach turn a bit, but then he continued. 

“But when I’m with you, it feels… different.  You’re right, it feels real.  But also… it feels more, like…”  George stopped, and you stopped with him.  

You looked up at him, his eyes saying something you couldn’t quite catch.  The river below you and the leaves above you swayed, and you found yourself resting in a place you couldn’t perceive. 

“Like what?” you asked gently.  George looked down, then back up at you.  His gaze sent welcome shivers down your spine, and he gently grasped your other hand in his.  Perhaps you were just imagining it, but you felt his face grow a bit closer to yours and you couldn’t stop your cheeks from heating.  Everything was slow, and soft, and nice.  And… 

“Intimate,” George finished. 

Chapter Text

Your heartbeat was in your ears, and you sensed it coming before anything George did implied it.  Your lips tingled ever so slightly, and you gaze quickly fluttered down to George’s shoes.  Both of your hands were still cupped in his, ever so gently, and you felt yourself run your own fingers up his forearm softly.  It was barely a movement, but it created shivers on both of your skins.  

Intimate.   The word he’d said rang in your ears, and set something inside of you ablaze. 

You could feel the slight raise of the hairs on his forearms, and you gently rested your hand on the underside of his arm.  Whist doing so you both swayed ever so closer, without even knowing it.  Pulled by an invisible string. 

And, after a moment, you were close enough to feel the heat of his cheeks radiate and warm your own.  You were close enough to feel his breath on the exposed stretch of skin along your collarbone, making your grip his forearm tighter ever so slightly. 

You could practically feel how soft his lips were, your eyes unabashedly devouring their appearance.  You felt your own part, just a bit.

But then, you hesitated.  

Something hesitant, and uneasy, welled up in your stomach, and…

“Wait.”  You looked up into George’s tender eyes as the word left your mouth, and you saw them immediately clouding and recoiling.  

His lips parted the slightest amount, and he barely whispered, “Oh.” 

You immediately felt guilty, making sure not to lessen your grip on his arm and hand.  You knew his head was probably swarming at the moment and you felt terrible.  

It was as though he was a scared cat retreating- insert catboy jokes . 

“No, no-” you giggled, catching him off guard.  Then you tugged on the collar of his jacket, leaning up and forward right to his ear.  

“Save it for sunset,” you practically whispered, then backed down immediately and walked past him. 

You were filled with satisfaction at how his face reddened, and dragged him along with you as you turned.  He stumbled a bit and you chuckled.  You knew you were just as embarrassed as he was, but luckily you were able to conceal your blush by laughing.  

At least, you hoped so.  If your night went according to plan, there’d be plenty of time later for awkwardness-dripping flirtatious contact. 

The sun began to tentatively peek out through the clouds, just as the sky began to warm in color.  Auras of peach and pink found themselves nested in bits of fluffy white, as you pointed out to him in a brief comment. 

“Yeah, it is pretty,” he responded, looking up at the sky with you as you tugged him along forward.  “I don’t see sunsets often- well, I don’t go outside often, anyway.”

You silently wished you’d allowed time for you both to watch the sun go down.  Ah well, can’t have everything , you thought. 

You smiled at him as he looked up, admiring the way his eyes softly sparkled in calm observation.  You sure wished you could give him anything. 

The breeze that swayed the leaves above began to leave a chill on your skin, cooled by the slow river to George’s left.  You walked and talked for about twenty minutes, checking your phone every so often to make sure you hadn’t passed your destination. 

“We’re almost there,” you reassured him, passing another identical lamppost.  

“You said that ten minutes ago!” George complained.  He fake pouted like a toddler and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t warm your heart.  Okay, fine- more like boil it alive. 

“I know but really- I think it's around that corner,” you pointed up ahead of you.  

“Are you gonna tell-”

“Be patient!” you scolded him.  

Finally, after another block of bickering,  you both arrived at the front of a tiny pizzeria. It had cute Italian-esque windows that oozed with warmth from the inside, set with flower boxes that you found adorable. 

It didn’t look like much compared to all the luscious places you’d passed on the way, but it had a quaint, family owned vibe that you adored.  

Although, to George it probably looked pathetic. 

“We’re here!” you cheered, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your restaurant choice.  “Sorry, it doesn’t seem all that great of a pick now that I think about it.” 

“No, no- I love pizza,” George said grinning, and you felt relieved.  “Lets go.”

As soon as entered, it was as though you were swept into a world of warmth and liveliness.  A kind-eyed waitress greeted you and led you to a cozy booth around the back of the restaurant.  You were seated and given time to ponder the menu, and it was then when it first occurred to you that this was really a date.  Like, a date date.  

You basked in each other's silence for a minute, stealing as many glances up at him as you could while trying not to get caught.  George’s features and expression were so soft as he read the menu, his eyelashes on full display with his gaze directed downwards. 

As you were presented with water glasses and you began to take a sip, George unwound his scarf from his neck and laid it on the table next to him.  The low-ish cut of his sweater and open jacket revealed his neck, making you blush slightly and almost choke on your water. 

You coughed, wiping the water from your mouth with the back of your hand as George laughed.  

“Wow, how gentlemanly,” you chided, and he chuckled more. 

Before long, the waitress from before came up to your booth again, cheerily asking for your drink orders. 

“Erm,” you looked hesitantly at George.  “Do you drink, George?”

“Occasionally- I’ll get whatever you get.” 

Great, more pressure, you thought. 

“Alright, what would you recommend?” you asked tentatively. 

The waitress gave you her wine recommendation for the night, and you agreed after quickly asking George if that was alright.  You were in the mood for some sweet-tasting wine anyway, perhaps it’d dull down your anxiety. 

“I’ll be back in a bit for your orders!” she said leaving the table.  

You gave George a side smile, which he returned.  Once you decided on an order, you were able to relax a bit and took off your jacket.  

“You haven’t been very talkative, since…” George trailed off.  You knew that he was talking about that moment before, the “almost-kiss” as you’d deemed it. 

“I could say the same to you,” you countered.  You each stared, practically glared, at each for a moment.  It was a calm and over-dramatically tense stalemate, before you both dissolved into giggles after just a second. 

“Okay, okay- I’m getting bored of this stupid shit,” you laughed.  You gestured to show you were talking about the tension between you.   “Let’s just be normal, kay?” 

“Fine by me, I wasn’t the one being not-normal,” George chuckled.  You were about to refute but then he started taking off his gloves.  He gently laid them by his scarf on the table, revealing his hands. 

And once again your desires betrayed you, examining his long slender fingers and soft skin.  

You couldn’t help yourself. 

You reached your own hand forward, letting it rest gently on top of his.  He looked up at you, chocolate eyes gleaming with the reflections of all the lights that danced behind you.  

Then he looked down at his lap, lips curling into a smile.  Short tufts of his hair obscured his eyes, and you could just barely see his jaw tighten a bit.  

Hesitantly and slowly, he curled his fingers under your palm and lifted them to interlock your fingers.  You held your breath, both of you tightening your grip ever so slightly so that they fit perfectly in each other.  As if they were meant to be there. 

You smiled at him softly, practically beaming on the inside but trying to play it off as casual.  Obviously you’d held hands with other people, even romantically- but this was so different.  It was as though by interlocking George’s fingers with your own, the barrier between you was severed.  The wall built by the lack of intimacy of a discord call and the limited interaction of a video game... it was gone. 

You were together, now.  On a date, a real, official date.  With George.  

“So, tell me about your stream the other day,” you said, resting your chin on your other hand that was propped up on the table.  You looked into his eyes, trying to fill them with all the curiosity and amazement you felt inside. 

“Oh, yeah,” he said, probably spaced out a bit.  You couldn’t complain, you were practically floating in space this entire time.  “Which one, Tuesday?” 

“Mhm,” you hummed, not hearing the question.  

“Oh, it was nice,” he said.  His gaze danced all over the place as he began speaking and thinking and explaining, but yours never left him.  

You got warm chills whenever his eyes met yours, and you realized at that very moment that you could stare into them forever and never get bored.  

And you wanted that more than anything.

Chapter Text

You were still laughing by the time you licked your fingers of sauce from the last pizza slice. 

“Wait, okay, so she had no clue who Karl was at all? ”

“Nope,” George laughed. 

“And you made him say… that?”

George exploded into laughter.  “Hey he agreed!  He was the one that wanted to go on Omegle, we just gave him ideas!” 

“Still!” you giggled at the raunchy story George had just told you, involving Karl Jacobs and a random girl he’d matched with on the site.  “Imagine you’re a random girl and some guy just says that-” You burst into laughter.  

“Oh come on!  Anyone that’s on Omegle knows that's far from the worst thing that you could experience,” George defended himself.  

“Fine, touché,” you said, taking another sip of your wine.  

“Plus, for the record,” he continued, “it was Dream and Quackity’s idea, not mine.” 

He’d talked endlessly during your rather filling meal about his friends, mostly Dream and Sapnap whom you’d already met and also two others, Quackity (which he’d assured you wasn’t his real name) and Karl Jacobs.  You had conflicting feelings about now knowing all of their most embarrassing stories, at least the ones they’d shared with George.  But seeing his face light up when talking about the people most important to him gave you infinite ausement. 

 “One second, lemme use the restroom,” you said after a bit more conversation, stepping out of your booth with your purse in hand.  You glanced back over your shoulder at George, making sure he wasn’t watching as you intercepted your waitress who was about to approach your table.  

“Here,” you said to her, shuffling for your credit card.  “I’ll pay for my table, no need to take the check there.” 

“Oh, alright,” the waitress said, a bit surprised, but accepted your card anyway.  “Just sign here…” 

By the time you finished using the bathroom and got your card returned to you on the way out, George had put his scarf back on and pocketed his gloves.  

You approached the booth and slid in to meet his sparkling eyes.  They always mesmerized you. 

“Lets go,” you said, grabbing your coat.

“Wait, what about the check?” he asked, and you smiled. 

“Covered it.” 

“What?!” George exclaimed, getting up.  “No, wait, let me split it!”

“Nope!” you grinned.  “My date, my responsibility.” 

“But, I-” 

“Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you can’t be paid for.”  That sure shut his mouth, and the thankful look on his face was all you needed to make up for paying. 

You left the warmth of the restaurant and were greeted by a rather harsh wind chill, and an inky black sky.  

“Woah, it sure got dark quickly!” you exclaimed. 

George chuckled.  “No, time just got away from us.”  

Thankfully the lamplight was just enough to light up his features as you turned towards each other, grinning.  

“So, what now?” George asked.

You immediately reached for his hand, clasping it in your own and pulling him forward with you.  “You’ll see.”

You walked further up the Thames together, in the same direction and path as you had before.  As you grew more distant from the bustling tourist-filled areas, the paths became a bit more rustic and charming.  More secluded, more intimate as George had put it earlier.

“So, have I done a good job planning so far?” you asked tentatively, peering at the almost black-looking river to your left.  There were a few stars above that defied the city lights behind and around you, and they reflected onto the water below.  It was a calm, pristine sight you thought.  The wind made it chilly and the wine in your system made it dreamy, so you were in a constant tug-of-war between reality and fantasy. 

“Mhm,” George hummed, his gaze following the passing cars and shops.  Both of you had chatted your hearts out, and it was almost as though you had a silent mutual understanding that just being close to one another would serve the same purpose as a conversation. 

This time walking was much different than before.  You were strolling for the sake of it, not for a destination.  Although, you did have an end destination in mind.  

But the harmonious synchronization of your footsteps was enough to render any and all of your plans obsolete. 

“You know,” George murmured, “I’m surprised Dream hasn’t texted me this whole time.”

You chuckled.  “Did you tell him about… this?” 

“Well, sort of,” George admitted.  “I said I was going somewhere with you… I didn’t really give any details.”

“Oh.”  You weren’t hurt, just surprised.  “I had the impression you told each other everything,” you teased.  

“Well, I mean, I guess I pretty much do.  I just… it's different, stuff like this.  Feelings and stuff.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Um, relationships.  I guess.”

“Ah, I see.  So he’s never been with anybody?” you asked.  “Or, at least since you’ve met?”

“Hm?  Oh, no, Dream had a girlfriend for a while.  Up till pretty recently, actually- they got together pretty soon after Dream and I met, I think.  It- he was… yeah.” 

“And he didn’t talk about her?”

George laughed.  “Oh, oh boy he did.  Constantly, it was a bit concerning honestly.  Especially when they were talking online exclusively- he’d ask me and Sapnap and Callahan for advice on every little thing.”  George looked up, as if reminiscing.  “Yeah, Clay- er, Dream- he’s just like that.  He’s got a big heart, loves to share things about things he cares about.  And…” 

“And?” you pressed gently, as he trailed off.

“And, well, he’s better at that stuff than me, I guess.  This sort of stuff.  Like, understanding his emotions, and talking about them.  I dunno, that’s not really my strong suit… I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he said bashfully.  

“Hm?” you asked genuinely.  “Notice what?”

“Nothing, nothing- I guess I’m just not quite as good at sharing my emotions.  It’s hard being genuine all the time, especially when, like, my job hinges on me only sharing what I need too.  I’m not… used to it, I suppose.”  

He paused for a moment.  “I’m still not that great at dividing my personal life and, well, my ‘online’ life I guess.  Especially when my best friends are my online life- it's tough.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” you offered.  

“I suppose my solution’s always been to just completely separate them, not let them bleed into one another.  But with that comes… challenges.  Sacrifices, I guess.”

“Like talking about this kind of stuff with your friends, right?”

“Yeah, something like that,” he said.

George sighed, and you caught the same look in his eye that you did when you’d paid for dinner earlier.  Thankfulness, perhaps.  You were glad you could offer him, if nothing else, a bit of understanding.  Empathy.  And perhaps that was all he really needed. 

The realization brought warmth all the way to your fingertips, which you’d forgotten were still interlocked with George’s.  You swayed along, your conversation moving in the same slow, subtle rhythm.  The wine had loosened your tongue just enough to share things with George you might not have usually, at least not with a bout of overthinking.  You were grateful for that confidence, though knowing it would fade.  

“Tell me more about Dream’s girlfriend- what did he tell you about her?” 

“What- why?” 

“God, must you question everything?” you scoffed.  “I’m curious!” 

“Well, uh, he had… interesting stories, from when they lived together,” George began hesitantly. 

“They lived together?  Aw, that's so sweet.  Tell me!” 

“Why do you want to know?!” George was getting impatient.  

“I dunno!  I just wanna get a perspective on being with a… you know.”

“A Minecraft Youtuber?” 

You laughed.  “Well, not quite the word I was- you know what, that’s better.” 

“Wait, what were you going to say?” George pried. 

You were suddenly a bit embarrassed.  “A… celebrity.”

“Celebrity?!” George exclaimed softly.  Neither of you had enough energy to be overly dramatic with your body language, but then again you didn’t need to.  You understood each other well enough by now. 

“Yeah,” you mumbled.  “Don’t let that get to your head, though.” 

“Wow, I didn’t think you thought so highly of me!” he said sarcastically, and you playfully shoved his shoulder.  

“Oh, screw off!  All that means is that you have a lot of fangirls.” 

“Ah, jealous, are we?” George nudged you back with his shoulder, albeit much gentler.

“The only one I’m jealous of is Dream,” you asserted jokingly.  

“Why would- oh, you’re in on it too?  The one person I thought I was safe from-”  

“Yeah, yeah, I know about your whole ‘dreamnotfound’ thing,” you smirked, soaking in his discomfort.  “Oh come on, you act like it's not all over the internet!” 

George burst into giggles.  “Oh no, how horrible- now you know my secret!”  He sarcastically and overdramatically said.  You must not have laughed enough for his satisfaction, because he felt the need to clarify after calming down from his bout of laughter. 

“Okay, okay- but like, you know it's just a joke, right?” he said.

“Of course I do!”  You said, chuckling.  “But if I find out you’re secretly dating Dream behind my back, don’t expect me to be surprised.”

“Plus,” you added after a moment.  “If it wasn’t a joke, you wouldn’t be here with me, right?

“Yeah.  I wouldn’t be,” he said, smiling.  He gave your hand a squeeze, right as you finally approached an elegantly lit bridge that stretched over the Thames.  Its reflection glittered in the water below’s surface, and lampposts guarded its entrance. 

“Finally!” you exhaled.  “Damn, that took a while.”  You were lying, of course- it felt like all of two seconds. 

You led George onto the bridge, holding his hand all the while.  You ran your other hand along the smooth brick barrier as you began walking towards the center of the bridge.   

“Are we going somewhere on the other side?” George asked.  

“Nope,” you smiled.  The clicks of your footsteps were more audible, seemingly echoing throughout the night. 

Your heartbeat rang in your ears, growing in volume the closer you got to the center archway of the barrier’s pattern.  Walking to that spot felt like it was taking forever, but as you both looked over the bridge to the darkened water you were distracted by the serene beauty. 

The London Eye was somewhere far back there, Big Ben with it, but you couldn’t quite see it.  They were obscured by buildings and shops that you’d passed, that lined the expansive river.  

And soon, you reached the very middle.  You stopped, George stopping in front of you.  

Taking one last look at the view to both your left, you turned to face him.  It took a moment for your eyes to work up the courage to meet his, but when they did, they didn’t leave.  They were dark and barely visible but there was a shine that you could just about make out, and that was all you needed.  

Mirroring as George had before, you reached your empty hand to his, so that you were holding both of his hands in yours.  

“George,” you said softly.  

“Yeah?” he responded, barely a hum. 

“Hi.” 

You leaned forward, and pressed your lips onto his. 

Chapter Text

“Hi,” you murmured, voice husky and low. 

In a single movement, you leaned forward, tightened your grip on his hands and pressed your lips onto George's. 

And for a moment, it was as though time didn’t exist.  It didn’t pass nor pause, your thoughts didn’t move yet they didn’t stop.  All you could feel was your heartbeat roaring in your ears, and the contact of his soft lips on your own.  

For a second, he didn’t react.  His movement stilled, as did yours.  

But then he did, and he leaned into the kiss so that you could feel a sensation of whole-ness flow through you.  He was still gentle, and tentative.  But he kissed you back with the same amount of enthusiasm as you did, parting your mouth just slightly as he applied more pressure.  You were getting so many butterflies you thought you might fly away, but his hands in yours kept you firmly on the ground. 

And then, after a magical moment, you parted.  All you could see were his eyes, and his glowing rosy cheeks.  You knew yours were probably as red, but you were smiling too hard to care.  

“Hi,” George said, beaming, and you’d almost forgotten how stupid you choice of word was when initiating the kiss.  But it worked, and you couldn’t ask for much more than that.

You were so overwhelmed with joy that you looked down, at the fancy brick flooring and both of your perfectly positioned feet.  

You’d just kissed GeorgeNotFound.  You’d just kissed George. Not. Found.  And GeorgeNotFound had kissed you back.  

…

You and George didn’t have to walk too long to find a bus stop.  It was rather late but the city was still alive, as always; existing in a low but constant hum.  Similar streetlamp that you’d followed your entire way lit your path, until you diverged onto a smaller street and ducked through a shortcut between a little neighborhood.  

Along the way you’d finally admitted defeat, and asked George for his jacket.  He’d given it in exchange for an “I told you so” to which you’d reluctantly obliged.  But you knew that in reality you’d have done anything for his jacket.  

The fact that he had 3 layers on under made you feel less guilty about taking it- you’d made sure to tease him relentlessly about it, too.  How many layers did one guy need for a late autumn night?

“I just get cold easily!  Leave me alone, I never leave the house,” he’d protested, shoving his hands into his pant pockets.  “Don’t steal my wallet, by the way- it’s in there,” he gestured to the jacket you had cozily wrapped around you. 

“Hm, I was planning to but since you said that… maybe I’ll reconsider,” you snickered sweetly. 

It was about 9 pm by the time a bus squeaked its way to a stop at the station.  You weren’t holding George’s hand anymore, he’d put his gloves back on and you’d felt satisfied with being bundled in his tan jacket.  You followed him bubbly into the empty vehicle, save for an elderly couple towards the front and a man by a window.  He’d gone straight for the back of the bus, and you followed him as he tucked himself into the window seat of a two-seater.  

“That was fun,” you said, yawning.  He yawned as well, and giggled at the synchrony.  You were squished into that little seat so that you could feel his body heat warm you up, and your shoulders were smushed against each other. 

“Sleepy?” George asked, in a sleepy voice himself.  

“Mhm,” you murmured.  The slow swaying and creaking of the bus lulled you into more of a tired state than you probably would’ve been otherwise.  Plus, you needed an excuse. 

Slowly and gently, you rested your head to the side, onto George’s shoulder, and let your eyelids fall closed.  After a minute, you felt George lightly lean back onto you. 

You heard the subtle clicks of his fingers tapping on his phone screen, focusing on the sound to keep yourself from falling asleep.  

But you opened your eyes a bit to see his screen as you heard soft music from it- he was scrolling through TikTok.  Of course he was. 

You adjusted your head so that you could actually see his screen, watching and reading as he scrolled through his “for you” page.  There were a couple funny memes, mostly Minecraft.  He jumped, startled, when you let out a chuckle at one; he probably thought you were a sleep.  But then he smiled, caught your hand with his free one and continued scrolling.  

You spent the rest of the ride chuckling softly at TikToks you found funny, or just stupid.  Neither of you actually said anything, just amused hums or sharp sighs to express your reactions.  Perhaps he’d squeeze your hand when there was a relatable joke, or you’d snuggle a bit more into his shoulder when there was a cute video of a cat.  

You didn’t want to leave.  You wanted to stay in this wordless bliss, wrapped in George’s warmth and the sway of a London city bus.  To hold on to the magic of this night as tight as you possibly could, and never let it go. 

But alas, around the time your phone lockscreen read 9:36 pm, you’d reached your destination.  You were alone on the bus by now, and reluctantly you got up and braced yourself to re-enter the briskly chilly night.  

You shook off the sleepiness as soon as a breeze hit your face, scanning the familiar bus stop you’d been dropped at.  

“Is your house that way?” you asked, gesturing to the right.  George shoved his hands in his pockets again and looked down. 

“No, the other way.”

“Oh.”  Your heart sunk a tiny bit, but you shook it off.  “Well, I suppose this is where we part ways, then.”

“Yeah.  I suppose,” George said, shuffling awkwardly. 

“Oh, right,” you said, immediately taking his jacket off and handing it back to him. 

“Ah, right, erm thanks,” he said, leaning forward to collect it. 

You shuffled in place as well.  There was something between you, marred by sleepy eyes and sleepier instincts.  But it was there, and it was waiting to be acknowledged. 

Luckily for you, George saw it too. 

Wordlessly, he took a step forward towards you.  Soon you were at the same distance you’d been in when you’d kissed, on the bridge, and before that when you’d almost kissed, on the path.  His soft breath warmed the tip of your nose. 

He looked at you with gleaming eyes, and although they were much harder to perceive in the limited lamp light, you knew by now what they looked like.  It’d been etched into your mind’s eye, ingrained into your heart and painted onto your soul.  

And wordlessly, he took a tender hand and reached it forward to cup your face.  

He brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek with his thumb, a feather tough caressing your blushed skin.  

And then, you kissed.

Just for a moment- half a moment, anyway.  You could barely even catch it, as he leaned forward and pressed ever so gently on your lips, then retreated.  

But you caught his eyes once more, more specifically a trace of suppressed desire behind them.  Oh, if only he knew how much you reciprocated that feeling. 

Without a moment’s hesitation you leaned forward and kissed him again, this time making sure that it lasted.  That it was fulfilling, that it was earnest.  

That it was real.

Chapter Text

You didn’t want to leave.  You wanted to pull him into another hug, grab his hand for like the hundredth time that night, drag him to your place and you could talk and chat all night.  He’d wake up in your arms and you in his, get to see how those dazzling eyes looked in the fresh morning light.  

But you didn’t.  You kissed, then hugged.  It was a warm hug, only slightly marred by the chilly night air.  You’d buried your face in his scarf to warm your frozen cheeks, and he’d done the same with your hair.  

You remembered swaying back to side slightly, as if dancing in your own language under the streetlamp’s light.  

And you remembered when finally George let go of your hands and you reluctantly pulled yourself away from him.  

He’d given you a glowing soft smile, tired eyes trying their best to be energetic.  You’d grinned back, and said goodbye.  

And then you left.  

… 

By the time you’d reached the flat you called home, you’d reached the depths of your playlist that you'd been playing on shuffle.  It was almost 11.

“Agh,” you sighed the second you got in the door.  You were so drained, but so invigorated at the same time.  Your body and mind were at war- your tired feet and eyes wanting nothing more than to cozy up in bed and fall asleep, while your mind was dancing in circles.  

I kissed George, you thought, mesmerized, as you slipped off your dress and changed into soft pajama bottoms.  And he kissed me back- twice.

You were still in awe, the gravity of it all only setting in after laying for a moment in the warmth of your bed.  

George and I… we’re… he…

Your mind searched for words to define your undefinable emotions.  Magical, unbelievable, unreal-

Only one thing was for sure: you were hopelessly in love by now.  You were way too deep to even think about getting yourself out, and even if you wanted to, it’d be impossible.

George had you in a daze, a daze that you waltzed with in your never-ending imagination until your body finally gave in and you drifted off to sleep. 

… 

You’d always imagined one day, in a magical fantasy world, being awoken lightly by your lover as sunshine rays poured over you generously. 

And, well, even though it was through a discord call, getting woken up at 5:56 am by hearing George’s voice was certainly fantasy material. Too bad you weren’t the most elegant morning person. 

“Hullo?” you croaked groggily as you answered the call.  You were still 65% asleep and despite knowing it was George, as he was the only one you talked to on discord, it didn’t really resonate until he answered.

“Oh, sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, no!” you said sitting up quickly and reached a glass of water next to you.  You took a big gulp and cleared your throat.  “Sorry, I just- I was about to get up anyway.”

“Oh, good.”

You nervously ran a hand through your hair despite knowing he couldn’t see it.  

“Last night was fun,” he said, and you hummed in agreement.  Flutters ran through you as you recalled the events of last night fondly.  You stretched your arms and rubbed the back of your neck.  You’d had an early dinner, so your stomach was rather empty.

“I’m glad you thought so,” you murmured as you made your way to the kitchen to fix yourself something.  

“We should do it again sometime,” George said. He sounded a bit distant, you thought- perhaps just as dreamy as you were.  

“Did you just wake up?” you asked, finding a bowl and picking out a sugary cereal. You deserved it.

“Hm? No, I’ve been up for a bit.” 

“Doing what?”  

“Work stuff- editing, thumbnailing.  What’s that sound?” he asked as you poured your cereal. 

“What? Oh, just making breakfast.” 

“Oh.”  You poured the milk and stuck a spoon into the bowl. 

“One sec,” you said as you took the phone off your ear, making your way to your sofa to eat.  “Okay.”

“Are you watching TV?” he asked just as you clicked it on. 

“Yep.”

“So am I,” he said.  “Wait, one second,” he moved the phone so that his voice was muffled, but you could hear him call out, “It’s alright mum, I’ll take her.”

You giggled.  “Get who?” you asked, taking a bite. 

“Oh, uh,” he was flustered that you heard that, “Nothing.  My dog, for a walk.”

“Oh!’  You took another bite of your cereal and flipped mindlessly through TV channels.  “What’s her name?”

“Lily.  Actually, are you free today?” George asked

“Erm, I think so?” 

“Are you free now?”  His directness gave you the best kind of butterflies. 

“Yes,” you said confidently.  Looked like you’d be rescheduling your morning classes- not that you weren’t planning to anyway.  

“Great, you can come walk her with me- if you’d like, of course.”

“If I’d like?  Hm, I’ll see,” you teased.  George’s nervous sigh made you giggle, “Of course I’ll come.  Gimme a few minutes to get ready- text me your house.”

The second you hung up to get ready, you practically speedran your morning routine.  Heaven knows it takes you more than 5 minutes to get ready- but somehow you made it out the door in a presentable outfit and minimal wooziness. 

You marched over to his house, which quite frankly was farther than you thought it’d be.  On the way you passed the coffee shop where you’d first met, sending a wave of nostalgia for only two months ago.  Crazy, how fast time could fly. 

Soon you came to the doorstep of a polished brick-fronted flat, with neat flower beds most likely courtesy of George’s mother.  From behind the door you could already hear barking. 

Even before you began climbing up the first step, the door swing open and you were greeted by none other than George himself.  

“Hi,” he said.  By his ankles was a beautiful amber-furred dog, or rather puppy by her size. 

“Hello!” you said, directed mostly at the dog as you knelt down and reached a hand out.  She was tentative at first but eventually allowed you to pet her head and caress her floppy ears.  “She’s so small!”

George laughed.  “We just got her in August, she’s a little baby,” he cooed, kneeling down as well in the doorframe to rub her back.  You didn’t want to admit it to yourself but you found yourself staring at his delicate wrists, unobscured by his rolled up sweater.

“She’s adorable,” you murmured lovingly, booping her little nose before finally glancing up at George.  He was already looking at you, making you blush.  

“Good morning, by the way,” you chuckled.  

“Hah, I’ve been up for hours- but good morning to you, too,” he grinned.  “Oh, wait, I forgot her treats- give me a second.”  George rushed back into the house leaving you to keep dorting over the dog, shutting the door just enough that you couldn’t see the inside of his house.  You were curious, sure, but wanted to save that for another more official occasion.  

Lily, the dog, kept licking the doorframe and hopping in and out of the house, you even tried to pick her up but she was pretty squirmish.  Plus, you’d only just met her and weren’t particularly amazing with animals or anything.  It was to be expected. 

“Alright, I’m back,” you heard say as he came back with a bag of treats.  He’d thrown on a navy jacket and had black sneakers with blindingly white soles.  

You got up as George adjusted the puppy’s harness, and attached a leash he’d grabbed from somewhere near the stairs.  “Let’s go.”

“Wait!” you said as they made their way down the front stairs.  “I’m cold, can I have your jacket?”  You gave George your best, most dramatic puppy dog eyes. 

He rolled his eyes.  “There’s only room for one adorable puppy here,” he laughed, and patted Lily on the head.  

And a moment later, he took off his jacket and handed it to you with a cheeky grin.

Chapter Text

It was, like, actually chilly.  If George hadn't already given you his jacket willingly you might've just stolen it from him. 

His vivacious dog didn’t seem to mind at all, though.  By the second the three of you’d spilled out onto the sidewalk, she was bouncing with energy.  Of course, dragging George with her- causing him to almost slip more than once.  It made you giggle uncontrollably and forget your chilliness every time.  

“Is she always this energetic?” you asked as Lily suddenly jumped up to your knees just as you rounded a corner.   “Hi girlie!” you squeaked as she tried to lick your bag. 

George chuckled.  “No, she’s just excited I’m the one taking her out for once,” he said, wrapping the leash around his palm to reel it in.  “Good girl,” he cooed, petting her affectionately.  You found yourself grinning stupidly at how adorably he doted on his pet. 

And then he met your gaze, under short wisps of hair a sparkling pair of eyes.  “What?” he asked, smirking.  Your face heated and you looked away quickly, but not before flashing him a quick guilty smile.  “Nothing.” 

This side of the block was more shady, feeling cozy and enclosed between thin trees.  You didn’t know where you were going- probably just a loop, enough to tire the puppy out at least.  It was cloudy, but a nice kind of cloudy.  A comfy kind. 

“So,” George cut through your thoughts, “Last night.” 

“What about it?” you said nonchalantly.  What not about it?

“It was nice,” he shrugged.  You could tell that both of you were equally giddy inside, playing it cool.  At least you were better at it than George. 

“Yeah,” you said, smiling at the ground as your feet shuffled along.  “It was.” 

You were in a stalemate.  Who was going to break first, you wondered. 

“We should do it again.” 

“You said that this morning,” you commented. 

“I did? Oh.” There it was again- the distant, dreamy quality in his voice that made you feel like he was miles away from you mentally.  You wanted him to at least take you with him. 

“Well, we went on a date. And it was nice. That means we’re dating, right?” 

George looked up at you suddenly, his eyes a mix of surprise, confusion and also perhaps a bit of excitement.  

Before he could answer, you continued, “Dating, as in, multiple dates. So, basically… we can do this as many times as we want, right?” 

You smiled, and his mouth parted slightly as though he was going to say something. But then it shut, and morphed into a smile.  A joyful, comforting smile that made his eyes crinkle softly.  “Yeah,” he murmured. 

Your eyes should’ve been focused on his, but they weren’t.  Instead they drifted to his cheeks, soft and faintly tinted pink.  Glowing with a dewy glow that you could only now perceive in person, not through a camera.  And freckles- you didn’t know he had freckles.  They were faint, and few, but they were there, speckling the side of his face and neck that faced you.  

“But,” you said, slowly drawing yourself out from your daze, “I planned that one, now it’s your turn.”

“Yeah,” he said dazedly, as if still fixated on what you’d just said before.  

“Got it?” 

“Yeah.”

“Hey, snap out of it!”

“Out of what?”

You gently shoved the side of his head. He was caught off guard and startled Lily with his stumbling.  “Hey alright, alright!” he scoffed at you, grinning slightly.  

“What is it?” you pressed. 

George looked down a bit and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.  “You said we’re dating, that’s all.” 

“Oh.”  You suddenly felt something well up in your stomach.  “Is that- I shouldn’t have-”

“No,” he said immediately, looking you in the eyes again and grasping your hand.  “No, I’m just, not used to it.  It’s… been a while.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled.  “For me too.”  The puppy was yapping impatiently at your feet since you’d slowed your pacee. 

“So, we’re dating?” He asked, giving you that side glance again that made you melt. 

“We’re dating,” you responded, squeezing his hand tighter.  He smiled at you again, this time without his eyes, just his lips curled in a simple yet endlessly heart-warming gesture. 

You weren’t cold in the slightest after that. 

…

Arf! Arf!  Lily angrily barked at a passing bicycle, you both had to struggle to calm her down.  Poor biker. 

You were, in fact, incorrect about thinking George was just taking you in a loop- he did in fact have a spot in mind.  

“Awh, I’ve never been to this park before!” you murmured.  There weren’t any people that you could see, it was a big open field with a handful of benches scattered about.  A winding path wove through, that spilled out onto the sidewalk where you were standing.  

“Lily loves to run around here-” he reached in the bag he’d brought, his hand emerging with a bright tennis ball.  “-and play fetch.” 

He knelt down to unhook the collar from the puppy’s leash, and as soon as he did she practically leaped on top of him to grab the ball in her mouth, almost making him fall.  

“Woah! Here,” he threw the ball and she immediately bolted in its direction.  You giggled. 

“That should keep her busy,” he chuckled.  

A breeze ruffled your hair as you asked him trivial questions about his puppy- how old was she, had he had a dog before her, what breed was she… it was sad to admit but you didn’t listen to a word he said.  All you heard was the soft inflections of his voice that had become so familiar to your ears in the last months.  They stuck in your mind as they left his lips; his chapped, pink, strawberry lips 

You hummed along to whatever it was he was speaking, simply enjoying being an audience to him talk about something- or, well, someone- that he cared so much about.  Who knew, his puppy would be all it took to melt him.  

Feet scraped against asphalt as Lily returned with the ball and George handed it to you to toss, into the lush green field. 

You heard a buzz coming from George’s pocket.  He slipped out his phone, and you were close enough to see that it was a text from none other than Dream. 

“Is Dream the only one that ever texts you?” you asked teasingly. 

George laughed.  “Yeah, actually-he’s the only one with my number.”

“Why?”

He shrugged.  “I dunno, I rarely go out and I’m on discord 24/7, so it’s just, like, easier.” 

“Hm, that makes sense.  Still, no one else has your number?” 

“Nope, at least none of my friends do.”

“Hey, but I have your number!” 

George smirked.  “Hm, I said what I said.” 

“Oi!” you nudged him with your shoulder, gasping over-dramatically.  “So I’m not your friend?!” 

“Nope... ” he said, nudging you back gently.  The playful flirting already found its way to your cheeks, and his push only made you blush deeper. 

But then he leaned closer, lowering his voice to nothing but a murmur.  Grinning stupidly and leaning closer to your ear, he muttered, 

“... ‘cos you’re my girlfriend.”

Chapter Text

You had butterflies the rest of the goddamn day after that.  

Not to even mention how after the word “girlfriend” left George’s mouth, he leaned even closer and gave you a kiss on the head. 

If your heart wasn’t already deceased, it sure was now.  

But it looked like you’d have to get used to that kind of stuff, because… 

“Yeah,” you managed, legs shaking so much that it was a miracle you could still stand upright.  “And you’re my boyfriend.” 

Your confident and flirtatious tone certainly did not match what was going on inside, but he didn’t have to know that.  You leaned into him in a side hug as you walked the rest of the path, carried by dreamily delivered comments and dialogue. 

Everytime Lily bounded up to you it brought you each an inch closer together, not physically but rather mentally.  Sharing the sunshine that she brought to your eyes made your moods mutually melt into one another.  It was bliss, and even better, a shared bliss. 

After the length of the path was exhausted George finally pocketed the tennis ball and you began walking back.  The clouds in the sky had begun to swell and darken, and the weather forecast predicted rain in about an hour.  

As you approached the last corner before where George’s home would appear, you stopped. 

“I should probably go, now,” you said, taking off his jacket and swiftly handing it to him. 

“Now?” he asked with wide eyes. 

“Yeah, I’ve still got classes later today.  I’ll call you in a bit, though.”

“Oh.”  George didn’t hide his disappointment.  “You don’t want to come in?”

You longed to, you really did, but priorities settled themselves on your shoulders.  “I’ll come another day, I promise.  I can see your cat!” you added.  

“Yeah,”  George said hesitantly.  ““Are you sure?  I’d be a bad host if I let you go without offering you tea or something.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness.  “I thought you didn’t like tea?” 

He chuckled.  “Key word, offering.  My mum would do the making.” 

The anxiety of meeting his mum suddenly encouraged you to postpone the visit longer- you just didn’t feel ready quite yet.  

“No, it’s alright,” you assured, quickly leaning forward and giving George a quick peck on the cheek.  “You’re quite thoughtful, though.” 

A light pink dusted his cheeks, and with that you gave Lily a goodbye pat.  

“Wait,” he said, hand on his cheek where you’d kissed him.  Then suddenly he grasped your hand and pulled you in closer, and the next thing you felt were his lips on yours.  

After a utopic moment, you parted and allowed your eyes to flutter open.  You smiled at the ground, suddenly too shy to meet his eyes.  

You wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him into a tight hug as Lily nuzzled your ankles softly.  And the moment he hugged you back, you knew this was where you were meant to be.  

… 

And then, instead of his arms, you were wrapped in a fluffy blanket in the light of your computer screen.  Headphones (that you’d recently purchased after your crappy earbuds broke) fit snugly against your ears and you were sitting when your knees to your chest, socks cozily gripping the chair’s edge.  

Oh yeah, and George was yelling at you through your headset.  

“Use the potion!” he cried into his microphone.  The shy and polite demeanor from the walk in the park, which was about 3 days ago, was now nowhere to be found.  “Literally just use. The. Potion.  You could’ve-”  

“I know, shut up!”  you retorted.  “I’m concentrating on building!  I can’t do ten things at once!” 

“All you have to do is-”

“No!” you grunted, placing blocks furiously in front of you to block out the rapid flames being flung at you from a swarm of blazes.  “I need to save it!” 

“No you don’t!  Trust me, use it now- if you don’t use it I’ll spawn more blazes!” 

“No- fine, fine I’ll use it!  Dickhead!” 

You reluctantly drank your peach colored fire resistance potion, that you’d extremely luckily gotten by killing a witch whilst in the overworld.  Now, surrounded by the murky red of a nether fortress, you wanted to save it until you really really needed it, despite George yelling at you otherwise.  But to be fair, there were way more blazes at the spawner than you’d expected, and without George’s help fighting them you were practically a moment away from death at any point.  

George’s character, on the other hand, was flying around tauntingly in creative mode.  

“Okay, now you can fight them,” he said, and you scoffed.  He’d been coaching you as you tried to beat the entire game by yourself, hovering around and giving you stuff (which was definitely not cheating).  

“Oh, thank you oh supreme minecrafter, for granting me permission to defend myself,” you snickered sarcastically, glaring at his stupid flying minecraft skin. 

You swung your sword casually now that you were practically invincible to the blaze’s fire, killing them with a satisfying ‘bonk’ until you gathered up 8 blaze rods.  

“Yay, finally- lets go find some piglins!” George cheered and you groaned.  

“No break?  No ‘congratulations’?” you pouted.  “Oh come on, I just single handedly took out like fifty blaze!” 

George scoffed, “First of all, it was more like ten,” he chuckled.  “And second of all, what do you mean congratulations?!  We’ve been at this for two hours and we’re only on the first part of nether!” 

You scowled.  “I deserve a prize, okay!  Hm,” you pretended to be thinking, but in reality you knew exactly what you wanted from him.  “Oh, I know.  Facecam!” 

George groaned.  “No!  I literally just rolled out of bed-” 

“Oh, shut up I know you’re lying!” you giggled.  You’d memorized his strange schedule by now- he slept at 8am and woke up around 5pm on a good day, although usually more like 6 or 7.  Although, as you’d proudly taken the credit for, he’d begun to wake up earlier and earlier in order to have more of a window to play minecraft after your classes finished around 3. 

You’d also shifted your schedule a bit, pushing earlier so you could stay up later with him.  You knew that he warped his awakeness around whenever his American friends were awake, but you’d slowly learned that their sleep habits were just as messed up as George’s.  So you’d settled with just defining it as changing day to day, especially when George needed to film or stream and such.  

Often it’d pain your heart a bit that the fantasy of having sunny noon dates or late morning strolls wasn’t really a possibility, but you understood.  It was funny though how his schedule seemed to perfectly avoid the sun.  Not that he probably saw it anyway, cooped up inside. 

“No,” George said definitively, laughing.  But you were persistent- you’d get him to turn on his discord webcam if it was the last thing you did. 

“Yes.” 

“No!  I haven’t, like, shaved or brushed or done anything yet!” 

“Honestly, George, do you think I care?” you said.  “Fine, I’ll turn mine on too.”  You clicked on your camera, flashing him a huge overdramatic smile to compensate for your tired-looking eyes.  A long day of uni had matted your hair and drained your face, but at least your pajamas were cute ‘n comfy. 

“Fine.”  George turned on his camera, wearing a crumpled white T-shirt and greasily slicked hair that stuck up in the back.  

“Oh, god, it's horrible!” you teased sarcastically, dramatically covering your eyes before melting into giggles under his smiling eyes.  

“You’re telling me,” he chuckled, massaging the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous.  

“I’m joking, you look dashing,” you smirked, “I especially love the bed hair, an excellent touch.” 

You giggled as he immediately went to run a hand through it, swooping it to the left like he always did.  For once his room was actually lit up decently, not with his studio lights or anything just with the overhead ones.  They hit his face differently than the lighting in his videos and streams would.  He felt more like a real person this way, you liked it. 

“Okay, okay- now we can go beat the ender dragon,” you said, drawing your attention back to the game tab.  

“Oh yeah, yeah.  Let’s go,” he said, glistening eyes meeting yours as he looked back up at you.  It felt like a million years since you’d first gotten butterflies when he’d looked at you, and although they were calmer now, you still felt them. 

You wondered if you ever wouldn’t.

Chapter Text

Badum!

The cheery discord alert sounded, signifying that someone had joined the vc.  The night was still young and naive, you still had your facecams on from before.  You’d made a bit of progress on learning to withstand his sultry gaze, although the same couldn’t be said about the assisted speedrun.  George hovered above you in the game, making it rain with cocoa beans (supposed to be poo- you were both clearly very mature) while you ran around on 3 hunger bars killing sheep. 

You were just about to fill up your hunger bar when the discord chime came through your headphones.  

“Hello?” George’s drawn out voice called out to the mystery person. 

“Hey, George!  What's up man?” greeted a familiar voice that you’d heard in call before.  His comforting American accent and jokingly-laced tone immediately filled you with giggles once reaching your sleepy ears.  

“Hi Sapnap!” you said before George could respond.  You’d been playing Minecraft in a different server that apparently Sapnap and Dream had access to, hence why they could just pop in whenever.  George’s idea, which you happily agreed to. 

“Hey!” he called your name. “Ah, facecams, I see- intimate,” he teased and George scoffed.  You giggled visibly at his stupidly flirtation-implying tone.  Perhaps a week ago you’d be flustered, but not anymore.  You were proud of the fact that the word “intimate” could be used to describe you and George’s relationship, especially from one of his best two friends.  George, though, didn’t seem to share your sentiments. 

“Sapnap, piss off!”

“George!  You’re literally only like this when you’re together- I just wanna talk to you!  Like, normally!”  Normally?  Sapnap pouted audibly, and George rolled his eyes.  His facecam exposed an annoyed smile as he rested his cheek on a propped up hand. 

“Normally, huh?” you pressed, taking pleasure in how George reacted to your jabs.  “You hiding something, George?”

“I’m not, I’m not!  Sapnap just likes embarrassing me- not that it's working.”  

“Oh, alright George.  Whatever you say,” Sapnap agreed sarcastically, George groaning in response. 

“You’re such a dummy,” George groaned. 

“Dummy thick.” 

“Idiot,” he said, and your sides hurt from laughing. 

“God, he’s annoying,” Sapnap complained to you, “Can’t believe you put up with him.” 

You grinned, knowing that was the polar opposite of how you both felt in reality.  Sapnap loved George just as much as you did, and it was painfully obvious by the way he teased him.   

After a while Sapnap joined your Minecraft world to spectate (aka make fun of) your speedrunning ability.  And after bickering over whether or not he should get access to creative mode with George refusing and Sapnap eventually resorting to begging,  your three-way back and forth had evolved into comfortable conversation. 

Although Sapnap’s jokes about you were clearly digs at George, they never seemed objectifying or offensive.  Stuff like jokingly calling you his “booty call” or, as he’d dubbed “looty call” (since you always asked him for free loot).  It was more affectionate and endearing than anything, and you didn’t even fuss about him using “girlfriend” teasingly.  In fact, you were a bit flattered by it.

“So, children, how’s the kissy wissing going?” he giggled.

“Oh piss off, I’m older than you,” George sneered.  “And we’re not-”

“Alright, I’d say,” you cut him off, holding in your laughter.  “Although I’m a much better kisser than George.”

That made Sapnap stutter, choking out, “Wait so you- George!  My man!” he said like a proud father.  “To be fair, he doesn’t have much experience in that department.”

“Sapnap I’m going to kill you.”

“In the game?  Oh no, I’m so scared,” Sapnap jeered sarcastically, just as George hit the /kill command in the game.  

It was clear that Sapnap was taking advantage of both yours and his facecams, pointing out whenever you blushed brightly.  

Eventually it got so bad that George turned it off in annoyance, and you promptly joined him in solidarity (and totally not embarrassment). 

“Oh whoops, remember that video I promised to help you edit tomorrow?” George jabbed, and you could hear the smirk despite his camera no longer being on.  “Looks like my schedule’s full-

“Wait, no!” Sapnap cried, retreating in his endeavor.  “Okay, okay, I’ll stop, I actually need your help.  I’m just proud of my boy for finally talking to someone that’s not me or Dream.” 

“For fucks sake, you’re such an idiot,” George sighed.  But this time his affectionate tone was clear as day, making you smile like an idiot. 

“Tell me I’m wrong,” Sapnap retorted. 

To say the least, Sapnap made your sub-par attempt at speedrunning much more chaotic.  

“Stop spawning bloody Blazes!” you screeched, swinging your sword and pulling up your shield frantically to escape the flying mobs.  Even George had to help fight them off so that you wouldn’t be fried to a crisp.  

You ran back into the section of the Nether Fortress that was covered- but too late, Sapnap’d blocked the entrance. 

“Oh sorry, princess , would you rather I spawn Magma Cubes?” Sapnap chuckled evilly as he brought out another spawn egg from his creative inventory.

“No!  Stop!” Too late, the stupid square-shaped things surrounded you.  You even tried doing crits like George had taught you but to no avail.  You were killed almost instantly as one hopped right on top of you, squishing you like a pancake. 

“You’re joking!” you cried, almost jumping out of your seat in anger. It was a wonder how riled up this game got you, even after a long day at school.  “George, teleport me back.  And gimme all my stuff back.” 

“Hey, cheater!” Sapnap complained, as you were teleported back in an instant.  Unfortunately for you you were now defenseless in the monster-filled nether, but fortunately you had George. 

“Full diamond, please,” you said sweetly, as George graciously made it rain with the shiny armor.  

“Wow, okay,” Sapnap scoffed, “Go ask your sugar daddy for everything.” 

Your sides hurt from laughing.  “You’re just jealous I have a better speedrun time than you!” 

“That’s not even-”

“Yes it is!”

“No it’s-”

“Yeah it kinda is,” George interrupted Sapnap, and you smirked in satisfaction.  

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighed in defeat, “I just know you’re gonna get a kiss for that one, Gogy .”

A few protests from George and snarky comments from you later, you finally (after dying about 4 times) traded enough gold with Piglins to get 8 shiny ender pearls.  

“Yes!”  you announced proudly.   “I’m a god at this game.”  

Then suddenly you were teleported to Sapnap, and the next thing you saw was bright orange and the sound of fire and death.  The cursed words “You Died!” filled your screen.  

“Dickhead!  Why’d you tp me into lava?!” you cried, slamming your hands dramatically on the desk.  

“Whoops,” Sapnap giggled maniacally.  “My bad.”

Under your death message in the chat the words “/gamemode survival Sapnap” appeared, followed by said player’s frustrated groans. 

“Oh come on George!!  I won’t do it again.” 

“Nope, you lost your privileges,” George replied curtly, and you giggled.  

Eventually you got back your stuff and immediately rushed to kill the unarmed Sapnap about ten times. 

“Okay, okay, I yield!” he cried, and you finally stopped.

“Fine, I’ll have mercy,” you said proudly.

“Ugh.  Well, I’ll give you one thing- you’ll have no trouble facing foes with George wrapped around your finger like that.” 

“I’m not-” George began, trailing off.  You giggled, which turned into a hearty chuckle as Sapnap joined in.  

Maybe you did have him wrapped around your finger, after all. 

Maybe.

That could be fun. 

Chapter Text

“Ugh, this is depressing, put some music on or something.” 

Probably an hour had passed, but Sapnap’s energy had remained the same.  It bounced off of George and consequently you.

“Music?” you asked, unaware of the spotify feature on discord.  Your fingers were jelly-like from all the furious clicking, not to mention your fried sense of humor.  It was like you were flexing an atrophied muscle every time you made a stupid joke, but the fun you were having was more than worth it. 

“Sure, pop on some tunes then,” George said nonchalantly whilst spawning a bunch of pigs named “poonap” in the game.  

“Bet.”  Sapnap (rather loudly) clicked a bunch of stuff, and some bot thing joined the discord.  There were a few seconds of silence, and then suddenly music started blaring in your headphones.  

“Oi!” you cried, hastily turning down your volume.  

“You good?” George laughed as the first bars of the song played, and you could just faintly hear Sapnap’s muffled humming over the blasting music.  

The beat was really vigorous, loud and boisterous yet steady and solid.  The voice that sang over it sounded angry and energetic- certainly scaring the shit out of you as it blasted in your ears. 

“This is not what I thought you’d listen to,” you chuckled loudly, loud enough to be heard over the spotify. 

“What?  What did you think I listened to, then?” Sapnap grunted curiously. 

“I dunno, like, country music?”  

“ What?!   Oh come on, I’m not that old.” 

“Isn’t that what people from Texas listen to?” you retorted. 

George belly laughed in the background and you were getting to that point as well. 

“What even is this?!” you asked over the heavy bassline and angry-sounding line delivery. 

“Beamin’ by Quadeca,” he responded, mumbling the lyrics as they sounded in your headphones.  “Wait shh, shh, this is the Quackity part.” 

You’d never heard Quackity’s voice but a few lyrics later both George and Sapnap were crying-laughing about how it apparently sounded like their friend.  As you recalled, he was the “beanie guy” that George talked to you about.  Most notably when he needed your help finding Quackity’s specific beanie off of amazon so that he could impersonate him for a stream. 

Another song (you couldn’t remember the name a second after he said it) played, and then another and another.  You lost interest in the game but occasionally saw George’s character running around, placing sand blocks as he jumped like some kind of calming parkour. 

You had to shift your speaking volume to be a lot louder in order to be heard over the pretty loud songs that Sapnap played.  You recognized a handful, it wasn’t like you were totally out of the loop.  But the more you listened the more you felt alienated by the way Sapnap and George sang/rapped along.  Although, it did make you smile quite a bit.  A bit more than you’d like to admit.  

Sapnap’s music taste matched his personality, that was for sure.  

“George, you pick something,” Sapnap said after a while. 

“Wot?  No.”

“Fine,” Sapnap responded easily, and you were surprised he didn’t put up more of a fight.  You were immediately curious as to what George’s taste in music was upon Sapnap’s offer.  To be honest the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind before, but now you couldn’t help but 

Sapnap kept shuffling his playlist, even as you finally made it to the Minecraft Stronghold.  

You filled in the empty slots for eyes of ender and hopped in.  All the while, your mind spun in curiosity over what George’s music taste could possibly be.  Not that it mattered, of course.  Well, it kind of did.  A little.   

Now decked out in diamond and armed to the teeth netherite (courtesy of George) you were able to last all but 4 minutes in the End before being killed by an enderman. 

Did he like rap?  Or god forbid the same stuff Sapnap listens to?  Perhaps more slow, soulful music- or even love songs?

A blush creeped up your neck at the thought of GeorgeNotFound wistfully listening to a romantic serenade- yeah, it definitely wasn’t that. 

You shoved your attention back onto the game, respawning in the bed outside the portal.  George had graciously turned on keep inventory, thanks to your endless deaths and his apparently not endless patience.  And he also took care of destroying the crystals for you.

Hm, maybe Sapnap had a point with the “sugar daddy” comment.  George was being kind of a simp.  You liked that, a lot- although you’d never admit it in a million years. 

“Okay, literally all you have to do is place a bed, then a block, and then click on it,” George explained, once you’d made it to The End once again.  “It’s literally impossible to mess up.” 

You heard Sapnap scoff doubtfully, but ignored it.  He was still in survival somewhere, probably digging a hole or something.

“Okay,” you said, taking a deep breath in and right clicked on the bed.  In an instant you were met with a fiery explosion that did about 3 hearts of damage, and the Ender Dragon above you exploded as its health bar went down to zero. 

“Yay!” you and George cheered, even Sapnap joining in.  Your cheeks hurt from beaming.  

“Only took… 4 hours?” George said, and you checked the clock to confirm that it was actually 5 hours.  

“Woah, it’s midnight!” you exclaimed, a sickening feeling briefly washing over you before remembering that tomorrow was Saturday, “Good thing I don’t have school tomorrow.”  

“You’re in school?” Sapnap asked, surprised. 

“Yeah, Uni.” 

“Ah.  Same- well, only for another month,” he said. 

“Why?” 

“I’m dropping out- being a YouTuber is my dream, and now that it’s basically a reality…”

Sapnap trailed off and you hummed blissfully.  He sounded so happy, confident… so different than yourself yet so hauntingly similar.  You decided that you liked him, and that you liked talking to him.  You could see why George did too.

A song started fading out, and Sapnap let out a huge yawn as you stretched your arms. 

“Well then, lovebirds,” Sapnap said, yawning again.  “I think I’m gonna head out, that was fun.  I’ll call you in a bit, yeah George?”

“Sure,” George replied, yawning audibly as well but much softer.  You felt one building in your own throat, and you couldn’t help silently yawning as well.  

“It was nice chatting again,” he said to you.  “That one time you helped out with our code, that was fun.  You should do it again sometime.”  

“Oh, well I guess so!  Thanks,” you replied sheepishly.  “It was fun, you have an… interesting taste in music.”

Sapnap snorted.  “Welp, at least it’s better than George’s.” 

And with that you heard the sound of an exited discord call, the music leaving with him.  

George yawned again, louder this time, and you couldn’t resist its contagious nature and ended up yawning as well.  You both giggled, sharing a quieter moment in the dark of the End realm after killing the dragon.  All that sounded through your headphones were the soft blips of endermen and the occasional whack of Geroge’s sword. 

“So,” you said. 

“So,” George responded, matching your tone and ease and invisible comfort. 

“It’s Friday,” you pointed out. 

“Yeah?” he asked, the image of him raising his eyebrow sleepily appearing in your mind.

“I think I’m gonna stay up tonight.” 

“Why?”  George spoke through yet another yawn- you wondered why he was so tired, since this was supposed to be when he did the bulk of his work.  “Won’t that mess up your schedule?”

“Yeah, but I feel like it,” you responded. 

“That’s probably not a good idea.”

It wasn’t, but to your annoyingly smitten self it was the best idea ever.  Plus, it was about time you made up for messing George’s sleep patterns up.  If 5 more hours with him now meant regret the next day, then you were willing to pay for it. 

“I know, but it'll be worth it,” you sighed musically, and your tone conveyed everything that was unspoken.

Chapter Text

Well, staying up all night with George seemed like a good idea... at the time.  

But it took all but an hour for you to reach the verge of passing out, your heavy eyelids betraying you and your mind's desire to keep talking to him. 

You’d switched your cameras back on once Sapnap left.  George had turned on his LED lights, they were cyan today.  It outlined his features in a thin teal glow.

You peered at George’s widely awake face, which was getting more and more fuzzy through your sleep-deprived vision.  It’d been a while since you’d pulled an all-nighter, and the rush of rebellion gave a tiny sparkle to your eyes.  Although your eyelids were drooping after only 15 minutes.

“I miss the music, put some on,” you said groggily.  “I’m gonna fall asleep otherwise.”  You pulled your blanket to your face so that it covered beneath your nose, and it took all of your energy to not fall asleep right then and there.  

“Erm, alright,” George said hesitantly, and you grinned.  His voice was bright and cheery, the morning rasp gone, but you could tell he was trying to keep it subdued for you.  “Gimme a song then.” 

“You pick. 

“No.”

“Yes.” 

“No,” he said grinning, finally breaking and letting out a chuckle.. 

“What kind of music do you listen to anyway?” you asked.  

George shrugged, playing with something in his hands.  “Pick a color.” 

“Pink, I guess?”

George switched his LED lights to pink, with the remote he was fidgeting with.  You smiled, he looked nice in the magenta-ish glow.  You only just noticed a greenish lava lamp in the background on the side table behind him, and asked him about it. 

“I dunno, I probably got it at a museum somewhere.” 

“Why do you still have it?” 

“I just never got rid of it, I guess.”  You could tell he was trying to change the subject, but were too tired to care very much. 

Eventually, though, you remembered the silence and returned to the question. 

“You never answered, what kind of music do you like?”

George rolled his eyes.  “Still on about that?”

You hummed yes. 

He sighed.  “I dunno, like, the popular stuff I guess.”

“So… pop?” You tried to imagine him blasting Taylor Swift at 3 am, like you had many times before.  

“Eh, no… like, hip-hop, I guess.” 

“Ah,” you said, trying to read his expression to see if he was joking.  He apparently was not.  You couldn’t imagine him listening to UK hip hop, for some reason.  He was probably talking about American music- probably his friend’s influence.  

Although the mere thought of George listening to JuiceWRLD made you chuckle.  

But you bit your tongue as you were about to make a snarky comment, feeling guilty.  He just didn’t strike you as a rap kind of guy. 

“Play a song, then,” you pushed, smiling stupidly and leaning forward. 

“Fine, fine- if it means you’ll shut up,” George finally gave in, and you giggled.  “You have spotify?” 

“Yeah?  Why?” 

“Link it to your discord, so we can do a listening party.” 

“Ooh, sounds fun!” 

You saw George smile the slightest bit at your innocent bubbliness, which in turn made you more bubbly.  The way he snickered with his eyes closed, giving into the chaotic force that you were… you couldn’t get enough. 

And finally, George reluctantly clicked on a song. 

It had a loud beat, and a bassline that wasn’t quite familiar to you. 

“I dunno this one,” you said, loudly in order to be heard over the blaring music, “What’s it called?” 

“Erm, 20 min by Lil Uzi Vert.” 

“Oh I’ve heard of him… I think.”  You hadn’t. 

“I’ll put another one- you’d better know this one,” he grinned, clicking on another. 

The first seconds of electronic music played out familiarly, the pre-beat drop melody humming.  You knew this song- of course you did, you’d been to a party before. 

“Travis Scott, eh?” you asked, smirking, right as the beat dropped. 

“Yeah,” George said smiling at the ground, bopping his head as the opening bars of ‘Highest in the Room’ sang out with a hefty amount of autotune.  You grinned, bopping your head as well. 

“She fill my mind up with ideas,” you sang-spoke loudly, waving your hands dramatically the way someone would at a concert.  “Hope I make it outta here!”

George laughed and started humming the next part with you before actually saying the lyrics, “ I see some things that you might fear, I'm doin’ a show I'll be back soon”. 

“Soon!” you added as the background vocals, cupping your hands, to which George giggled.  After the next line you did the same with “Nah!” 

You hummed and sang your way through the song, losing you knowledge of the lines around ten in.  George knew them all though, and you assisted by repeating the last words. 

“Next one!” you urged as the song faded out, and he smirked right as a lively beat began playing over a repeated melody. 

You scrunched your nose indicating that you didn’t know this one, to which he responded, “Clout by Offset.”

“Ah.” 

You smiled and hummed along as he murmured the lyrics, and you could feel the soothing rhythm he went into while doing so.  It was the same for the next song- “Dive” by The Kid LAROI, and the next, “dnd” by glaive. 

You leaned back in your chair, using your knees as elbow rests over a fluffy blanket that rested on your lap.  It was well past midnight now, and before you knew it 10, then 20, then 40 songs had passed.  Time lulled easily, between your quips and conversations and stolen smiles and humming.  You quickly became grateful for George’s rap-ish taste in music- if it had been your slower, more melodious tunes playing you would’ve fallen asleep instantly.  But the aggressive tracks kept you up and awake.  

You didn’t even realize how much you’d been grinning until your cheekbones were sore from it.  

As a song from before began playing, George finally stopped the music.  

“Looks like we’ve exhausted my playlist- your turn,” he said.  His eyes were darker now, matching his room.  Under his eyebrows were shadowy caverns and only a small glint of light caught in the reflection of his pupils.  He leaned forward ever so slightly, perhaps not even intentionally, resting his chin on the palm of his hand.  And the angle at which he looked up at you- or, well, the computer screen- was… mystifying.  No, more like… sultry.  Alluring.  Mysterious, in a sexy way.  

You bit your lip, looking him in the eyes that were displayed on your screen.  

“Okay,” you said, hushed and a bit more breathy than you would’ve liked.  “I’m moving to my bed first though, I’ll call you back.”

“What?  Oh, well, sure.  I guess.”  You smiled, quickly hanging up the discord call before he could see you blushing any more than you were.  

A message appeared in your chat after you hung up- Dont take forever.

You paused a second, mindlessly staring at the message.  His face, more specifically his eyes were burned into your mind.  The way it sent slow motion flames down your arms from your chest, that kept replaying the more you thought about it. 

But eventually you shook your head vigorously to shake out the thoughts, reluctantly emerging from your home of blankets and pillows that you’d rested in on the chair for at least 6 hours. 

Before flipping open your laptop and jumping onto bed, you ran to the bathroom and took down your hair.  It hugged the sides of your face, with just enough of a greasy shine.  Not that he’d be able to see it anyway, as you shut off your main light and replaced it with your bedside lamp.  It didn’t provide anything but an extremely dim glow to your right, but the screen of your laptop would do most of the illuminating.  

You scrambled back onto discord, joining back into the call.  

“Alright, back,” you said, a pillow in your lap and a blanket wrapped around you as you stared at the device that was propped up on two pillows in front of you. 

“That took a while.”

“Not forever, though.” 

“Eh, might as well have been.”  Even though he said it in a snarky tone, his words sounded terrifyingly like something a boyfriend would say. 

You kept forgetting that he’d actually called you his girlfriend, the other day.  When you were in person, with him, it was as though your emotions were steeled to the point where you only thought through the lens of logicality.  Of course I’m his girlfriend, we’ve been going on dates.  We’re dating.

But at home, in the comfort of your bed and pillows and all your vulnerability, it was as though your feelings were amplified tenfold.  

I’m his girlfriend.   Just saying the words in your mind seemed endlessly far away, and they twisted in your stomach in a strange way.  It should feel like pride, and joy… but it felt most like an uncomfortable gut wrench.  And you couldn’t figure out why.  

“Decide on a song yet?” George asked, cutting your spiraling thoughts short.  

“No,” you breathed out, peering up gently. 

George’s expression had… shifted.  Nothing else did- the lighting was the same, although he did have his knee up to his chest now.  But he hung his head a tiny bit, so that he was looking up at the camera lens at an angle.  

Ugh, not this again.  You’d just begun to get over it.

“Then get lookin, unless you want more Travis Scott.” 

“No!” you laughed jokingly, keeping your gaze down, tracing the designs of your pillowcase with your eyes. Keeping them on anything but on him. 

“Okay, but don’t judge my music taste.” 

“No promises.”  George’s giggle made you feel almost in more disbelief about the whole “girlfriend” thing.  In your mind, he was still just a crush.  A stupid, unbelievable, unachievable crush.

But here he was, one a facetime call with you from your bed.  

You smiled, finally letting yourself snatch another glance before scrolling through your playlist.  Your eyes flitted over tens of songs- some were too pop-y, some too slow, too upbeat, too boring, too sad- and you finally shrugged and just clicked on one. 

“This ones cute,” you murmured, turning up the volume on the spotify output.  

“Stargazing… The Neighborhood?” George read from the discord listening party.  “They made, like, Sweater Weather right?” 

You laughed.  “Yeah, that’s another good one.”

He hummed in agreement. 

You leaned back in your bed against a tower of pillows you’d propped up.  

After that song played Daddy Issues by The Neighborhood, and you didn’t bother changing it since George didn’t protest.  

But the, well, for lack of a better word erotic lyrics certainly awakened something in you.  

Your eyes were barely open from sleep deprivation, the melody of the song somehow weighing your eyelids down more.  Your heartbeat was in your temples as chills ran up your spine.  Sitting in steady yet sensual silence, you finally brought your eyes up to George’s. 

His expression looked dangerously reminiscent of that flirty side-gaze that he’d given you before, at a time that felt like ages ago now. 

Though this time, it was filled with something different.  

It was as though in the place of simple and wholesome admiration, there was something… deeper.  A crimson maroon instead of a peachy pink, or perhaps even a rose red.  Something… lustful.  Sensual- no, seductive.  But tame, just barely.

It was strange, your mind using those words to describe George.  

But you couldn’t help it, as your eyes swallowed every little detail and implied infraction visage.  Every hidden message and faraway meaning, everything that you couldn’t quite perceive and certainly couldn't reach. 

You wanted nothing more than to take it all for yourself.

Chapter Text

George’s giggle made you touch starved. 

By the time the sun sleepily made its way awake around 6 am, you were practically aching from the lack of his touch.  You’d been on discord with him for literally 12 hours straight but the more you stayed thinking it would satisfy you the more you realized that was impossible.  It just made you long for more- talking and listening and staring wasn’t enough.  It’d never be enough, as hunger pains made clear. 

A couple of times when you were so delirious to think straight, you seriously considered walking over to his house in the dark just to give him a hug.  But the obvious flaws to such a plan made themselves clear pretty soon, the most important being the fact that you wanted to make a good impression on his parents, who shared a house with him.  And showing up in your pajamas at 4 am wasn’t exactly that. 

Your sleepiness had just turned into essentially drunkenness, all your words and thoughts slurred together in a miserable symphony.  It was funny, although the tight pain between your eyebrows made it less so.  A couple times you’d nearly drifted off to sleep in periods of silence only obstructed by George’s soft typing.  But you always somehow managed to wake yourself just in the nick of time.  Perhaps the weight of knowing George was able to see you, just a tab away on a discord call was a bit too uneasy, not to mention invigorating for you.  

Oh, and you hadn’t forgotten about that moment.  The one that could only be described as… erotic.  

But despite that, it was all that it was: a moment.  A fleeting moment.  That didn’t mean that your mind had been kind enough to let it free from your thoughts, though.  

You wished it did. 

As it was, though, you ended up blushing like a moron every time he looked up at you in a vaguely similar way.  Or had the same kind of glimmer in his eye that appeared almost any time he was making a joke- it still messed you up way too much. 

“Do you think I should stream today?” he asked, peering at you making your stupid emotions to all topsy turvey.  

You thought for a moment.  “You want to?” 

“Eh, I dunno what I’d do but… it’s been a while.”

“It has,” you grinned.  “I mean, what else would you do?” 

George broke his concentration with his screen, which probably had some kind of video editing software or code on it. 

“I was thinking you could come over?” he said casually, and you looked down flattered.  

“Aww, you’re inviting me over!” you gushed. 

“I mean, technically I did the other day you just didn’t come in.” 

“Sure, but still.”  You were touched, grinning stupidly.  “It’s sweet.” 

“Whatever,” George said absently, but you could see him smiling slightly as he looked back at his computer and kept typing. 

“The thing is, I’m kind of a mess right now.  Not sleeping for 24 hours sorta does that to you.”

George laughed.  “Hey, it was your idea.  You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“No!” You insisted.  He’d switched his LED lights to green a while ago, thus turning your room’s main source of light to green.  Although the sunlight that began to peer out of your window began to erase the magic of pulling an all-nighter, revealing the predicament that you now found yourself.  You weren’t the most… elegant person when you were sleepy, and the prospect of meeting George’s parents in such a state gave you so much anxiety.  

Meeting your boyfriend’s parents. 

As those words ran through your mind, you found yourself feeling a knot twist in your stomach.  You weren’t stupid, you knew what it was sparked by- the word “boyfriend”.  

You’d never been particularly uncomfortable with labels, but something felt… off.  The words “George” and “boyfriend” just didn’t click, somehow.  Obviously you thought of him romantically, and obviously you cared about him but something about that word…

“Hey George,” you said, scrolling through twitter on your phone as you grabbed his attention. 

“Yeah?”  His eyes looked a little too bright, a little too anticipatory. 

“Am I your girlfriend?” 

There it was.  What you were looking for. 

The second of hesitation, the tiniest flinch.  It answered your question for you before he even responded. 

“Erm, yeah,” he said smoothly, and had you not had cameras on you might’ve believed his sureness.  

You swallowed- this was the difficult part. 

“You know… I don’t know how to explain it, but I kinda feel… weird, about the whole ‘titles’ thing.  Like, I like you- a lot, and I want to be with you, but saying ‘girlfriend’ and ‘boyfriend’ kinda…” you trailed off nervously.  George was fidgeting with his headphones, brushing strands of hair across his forehead.  You couldn’t read his expression, but luckily his words saved you the hassle. 

“I.. I think I get it.” You sighed, relieved, scanning his features to make sure he wasn’t just saying it.  And by the looks of things, he wasn’t.  “I know what you’re saying, I think we- or, I- just, kinda, said it.  Without thinking, ya know?  I’m not good with this whole-” 

“Me neither,” you said, smiling, and you saw him smile too.  “But, we’re doing this together!”  You hesitated.  “We are together.”

“Yeah,”  George said.  “We are.”

He looked down and then up at you, and it was the first time since that moment when you didn’t completely get butterflies at his gaze.  It was more like… feeling fulfilled.  Feeling hugged, through only a look.  Which only made you more starved for his arms wrapped around you, for his breath on your neck and your chin nuzzled in his hair. 

…

You couldn’t go to sleep.  You wouldn’t.   But you needed to do something, anything to stimulate yourself, and chase away that jittery energy.  

“You look… high,” George said. 

“What?!” you laughed.  That wasn’t what you were expecting.  

“I mean, like, your eyes are wide n stuff.”

You snorted, pretending to be holding a cigarette with your fingers which made George laugh.  “No, just… kinda jumpy.”  You bounced on your bed, making it creak and threaten to break.  Poor Ikea bed frame. 

“I gotta do something,” you continued, flapping your sweater paws in the air.  It was about 7:30 am, which was late enough to be outside and not get weird stares from strangers.  Going outside to meet the clear cloudy England air was incredibly tempting, although anything would be in favor of your stuffy bedroom.  “I’m gonna go for a walk.” 

“Hm?  A walk?”

You scoffed sarcastically, “Yeah, its when you use your legs to-”

“I know, stupid!  I just meant- like, why?”  George rolled his eyes. 

You shrugged.  “I dunno, just to get outside?”

“You could just open the window,” he pointed out. 

“It's not the same though.” 

“I suppose.”  He thought for a moment.  “Are you gonna hang up?” 

You grinned.  “Aww, are you gonna miss me?”

“No,” he retorted immediately, “You’re just gonna break our 14 hour call streak.” 

“True.  Damn, this’s the longest call I’ve ever been on,” you said, smiling at your bedsheets.  It barely felt like any time had passed, regardless of your sleepiness.  

George smiled too.  “Wow, what a loser.  Don’t you have friends?” 

“What?!” you said, taken aback by his snippiness.  “Of course I do, we just don’t use discord like nerds!” 

“Suure.” 

You wrinkled your eyebrows.  “I do!  Okay fine then, what’s the longest call you’ve been on?!” 

George thought for a moment.  “I think I was on a 70 hour one with Dream once, oh yeah and during MCC grinding all three of us’d hang on call for like at least a day straight, oh and-”

“I'm sorry, 70 hours?!  Three days?!!” 

“Yeah?” 

“Jeez, what do you do for that long?”

George shrugged.  “I dunno, Minecraft, editing…”

“Right.” 

You suddenly tried to picture yourself spending three entire days on a call with George.  Seeing both of your best and worst, ugliest and sleepiest moments… no, no, definitely not.  Not for a while at least. 

“Anyway, you’re distracting me.  I’m going for a walk,” you announced.  

“You asked the-”

“Shut!  I’m going,” you said, trying to convince yourself at this point more than him.  Your jelly-limbs were protesting against getting up, but you forced yourself to sit up and stretch. 

“I’ll facetime you once I’m outside, okay?” you said as you cracked your knuckles.  

“Alright,” George said.  “RIP, our discord call, 14 hours and 13 minutes.” 

“Buh bye!” you said, waving and grinning widely as he did the same, the same way that he did when he outroed his Twitch streams.  That just made you smile even more, a plan forming in your mind just as you clicked the “end call” button. 

Chapter Text

Somehow it felt like you’d both run a marathon and slept for 48 hours straight, when really all you’d done is hang out in a discord call for half a day with George.  

Although, you’d be lying if you said that it wasn’t mentally taxing.  You’d found yourself in a comfortable flow when talking to him, but as soon as that ended you were left to deal with an aching headache.  It must’ve been caused by all of the built up thoughts you’d pushed down whilst talking to him, that now flooded to the front of your mind. 

Your phone was already open, incongruously lighting your face in your otherwise dark-ish room.  White sunlight poured in from your blinds, illuminating strips on your bed that reflected the cloudy sky outside.  

After a bit of scrolling through TikTok and whatnot, you clicked over to the messages app and scrolled through your texts with George.  What was his address again? 

There- you found it.  Copied and placed it into the Maps app, even though you’d gone there before.  You weren’t great with remembering directions. 

Grinning, you made your way to the bathroom and took a fresh shower after what felt like days.  You cleaned yourself up, brushing and styling your hair as you popped on a bit of makeup.  Just enough to make your face glow naturally.  You sneezed after accidentally dotting on a bit too much blush too close to your nose, and messed up your eyeliner at least 3 times.  Eventually, though, you found the reflection staring back at you to look much more put together than you had a moment ago.  Intriguing, what a bit of cosmetics could do for your confidence. 

You left the washroom with a smile, turning towards your next enemy: the closet.  

An army of outfits stood before you, making your mind spin with all of the possible combinations.  To be honest, you hadn’t really thought about what clothes George might like.  But this time, it wasn’t just him you had to impress. 

It took half an hour but a pile of clothes and some concerned texts from George later, you finally had an outfit.  It was light and fashionable, but still warm enough for Autumn and modest enough for meeting parents.  You thought George might like it too.  

Eventually after giving yourself a pep-talk in the mirror, you grabbed your phone and purse and headed out the door, grabbing a snack on the way.  You’d had breakfast but a granola bar couldn’t hurt. 

As you locked up your flat, you breathed in the fresh outdoor air deeply.  Just feeling light that wasn’t from a device made your skin tingle invitingly.  

You made your way down the street before remembering to call George.  The street seemed almost abandoned, despite it being a Saturday morning.  Your tiredness was nowhere to be found, thankfully, and you carried yourself with more bubbliness and energy than you’d had all night. 

“Hi!” you said into the phone as George picked up your call.  

“Hi,” he said.  You imagined he hadn’t moved much from where you’d left him.  Now that you thought about it, it was around when he would probably be getting ready for bed.  Maybe you didn’t time this the best, but it’d work out. 

“So, where are you going?” he asked.  You smirked.  He didn’t know that you were going to show up at his house- and you intended to keep it that way. 

You hummed.  “Ah, just around the block I suppose.  Wherever the wind takes me.” 

“Are you sure you’re not high?” 

“What?!”

George laughed.  “You sound way too happy to just be going on a walk.” 

“Am not!” you protested.  “I’m just… enjoying the fresh air.” 

“Alright,” George sighed.  “You said you’d FaceTime.” 

“Erm, right.”  If you turned on FaceTime, he’d probably be able to recognize as you got closer to his house.  “I’ll do in a bit.” 

“Sure.”  He didn’t sound convinced, but you didn’t really care.  Luckily, his house was only a few blocks away. 

You chatted as your feet marched steadily past similar looking flats, lined with thin trees by the roadside.  You couldn’t quite explain your nervousness.  All you knew was that it grew as you got ever closer to George’s doorstep, past gilded treetops and scarlet leaves. 

And then, you reached his street.  As you neared closer, you heard the audible yet faint sound of a dog barking and smiled, recognizing it as Geroge’s puppy.  Guess you’d be greeted by her that morning too!

Running a hand through your hair and clutching your phone, you ascended up the familiar front steps and knocked on the door.  

After a moment, you knocked again and the door swung open.  

“Hello, ma’am,” you murmured softly, shuffling your feet, to a plain yet kind looking brunette woman.  She scarily resembled George, with her laugh lines mirroring his as she smiled. 

“I’m, erm, I’m here to see George.  I’m a.. friend,” you said quickly, aware that you were stammering and probably looked like a mess.  Luckily, though the woman- George’s mum- didn’t seem put off.  

“Ah, it’s not often he gets visitors,” she said cheekily.  Her voice was rich and polished, and if it weren’t for a few gray hairs lining her forehead you might’ve mistaken her for someone much younger.  “Your name?”

“Hm?  Oh.”  You gave her your name, as she gestured for you to come inside.  You dipped your head slightly slipping off your shoes just as a familiar puppy bounded towards you from the back room.  

“Hello again!” you said as the brown-furred canine jumped up to lick your face, failing and almost making you slip.  You patted her forehead gently, aware of George’s mother considering you lightly.  

“Oh, of course!  You’re the girl George invited the other day.  I’m terribly sorry he didn’t invite you in, I told him off for it.” 

You shook your head.  “No, no he did, I just had some things to do that afternoon was all.  I did want to, I just…”

“No need to apologize my dear, I’m sure you had your reasons.”  She directed her attention up the stairs, raising her voice slightly.  “George!  Someone’s here to see you!” she called.  

You heard George’s faint voice that filled you up with butterflies, “Coming mum!” 

George’s mum chuckled.  “That probably means 10 minutes.  Anyhow, do you live around here?  For work?  School?” 

“Yes, for school!  I’m attending Uni, just near here.” 

“I see,” she hummed, scratching the puppy’s ears.  “So how did you meet George then?”  

You explained how the two of you met in a coffee shop and consequently became friends, as she led you to the kitchen that was right off the entrance to fill up a bowl of water for the puppy.  Your heart softened as you recalled all of your innocent encounters, all leading up to now. 

“It seems like you’re pretty close, then,” she said, and you heard loud footsteps descend down the stairs behind you before you could answer. 

George called your name, standing still on the last step leaning on the railing.  “What- why are you here?  Mum?” 

His gaze flicked from you to his mother to the puppy that was happily slurping up water by your feet.  

“George!  Your friend came all the way here, at least greet them politely.”  You laughed at the way she scolded him as though he was a ten-year-old child. 

“Come upstairs, then,” he said, disregarding his mom.  You looked up hesitantly, then at his mom who nodded ever so slightly.  Awkwardly, you shuffled over to the stairs following George who was already standing impatiently on the landing.  

“Why are you- when-” George whispered aggressively as soon as you were out of sight of his mother.

“I came here to surprise you!” you said honestly, grinning.  “Surprise?” 

“You could’ve shot me a text!  I feel bad, now.” 

You tilted your head, running a hand across the railing wondering why George wasn’t leading you to his room.  “For what?” 

“I dunno, it’s just… I dunno.  I’m being stupid, just… you talking to my mum and stuff… I haven’t talked to them or anything…” 

“That’s fine!  I mean, I’m sorry.  I see what you mean, but if it makes you feel better she’s incredibly sweet.” 

George smiled at the ground slightly, fidgeting his gray socked feet on the carpeted floor. 

You leaned forward a bit, placing both hands on his shoulders and giving him a peck on the cheek.  His expression softened, and he hugged your waist. 

“I missed you,” you said, your sleepiness suddenly deciding to show itself in your slurred voice.  

“I missed you too,” he responded, face nuzzled into your neck.  Just like you’d longed for. 

It'd only been a week since the last time you’d seen each other in person, not even counting the fact that you’d been on FaceTime together just an hour ago.  

Yet just for that moment, all you felt were George’s arms around you and his warmth on your skin.  And somehow that justified all of your neediness. 

Chapter Text

“Okay, erm, you should probably come in,” George said, shuffling stiffly and leading you to his room.  The door was swung open, and from your perspective outside all you could see were gray walls and a giant folded up greenscreen that was propped against the back wall.  

You made your way through the door, and almost gasped a little.  His bed, the windows- it was all exactly like it was in his videos.  As though you’d wandered your way onto a set.  But the part you didn’t see on stream were the two huge computer monitors, giant camera and microphone, and a ginormous, terrifying-looking computer. 

You didn’t know what you’d expected, really, but it definitely wasn’t this.

“So this is where the magic happens?” you said in awe, making your way past the gray bed and striped bed sheets and to the giant monitors.  You ran your fingers along the top dusty edge, then pressed some keys on the rainbow-lit keyboard that responded with satisfying clicks. There were more wires and gadgets than you’d probably had in your life, all shoved onto a poor little desk that looked like it was about to collapse.  

George chuckled, sitting on his bed as you tentatively swung his chair around and took a seat in it.  It was surprisingly really comfortable, and warm- you laughed thinking about how George probably spent a good chunk of his life sitting where you sat right now.  

“Hi baby,” he said suddenly, catching you off guard.  You quickly swung around drawing a squeak from the chair, and immediately you gave him a weird look as your cheeks heated. 

But instead of his gaze on you, it was glued downward, to a little fluffy kitten that crawled onto his lap.  

“Awwh!” you cooed immediately upon noticing it.  You hadn’t even seen the pet as you walked in, too distracted by the technology.  Its tiny physique and light gray fur made it blend in with the pillows and blankets perfectly, it was only now against George’s jeans that you could see it clearly.  

George stroked its head gently with his knuckle, as you rose from the chair.  You made your way to the bed, sitting on the edge and reaching a hand out to scratch its ears.  It shied away at first, but eventually became a tad less scared of you.  Its little whiskers tickled your wrist.  You were too fixated on its adorable pink nose to notice George’s eyes landing up on you, softly and fondly with wonder.  

He shifted his legs onto the bed as the kitten tried wriggling free, not getting far before curling up on a nearby pillow.  You both giggled and you sat cross-legged, leaning towards him with your chin propped up on your arm.  He ruffled your hair gently with the tip of his fingers, the same way he did with the cat.  You giggled more, blushing and smirking stupidly.  

“Should I stream today?” he asked gingerly.  

“Dunno, do you want to?” 

He laughed, “I mean, it’s my job so…” 

You smirked, leaning back on your arms so that your back faced the headboard.  

“I don’t really have any ideas,” he continued.  “Minecraft with my girlfriend?” 

You were too busy laughing your lungs out to notice him hesitate for a second.  “Wait, sorry- I forgot the whole, y’know, labels thing,” he said. 

You smiled and laughed again, laying down on the soft mattress.  You rolled onto your side so that your head rested on the bed, next to the pillow that the kitten laid on.  You looked up at him grinning fondly down at you. 

“Eh, ‘girlfriend’ makes a better twitch title.”  You reached your hand up strenuously to reach his hair and ruffle it the way he did yours.  He had to bend down pitifully for you to reach it from where you laid on the bed, plus his hair was so short that it didn’t do much. 

“You actually wanna?” he said.  “Stream?”

“Yeah sure, if you wanna make the internet explode,” you said sarcastically, shaking your head. 

George chuckled, but you heard the tiniest twinge of melancholy in his voice.  You felt it too, of course- a pit in your stomach when talking about streaming.  You knew as well as he did that even just your presence in the light of his audience would kill the both of you.  And that wasn’t exactly what you were looking for. 

But it doesn’t matter, you thought lazily, as George slouched his back against the headboard and stroked the now almost-sleeping kitten next to him.  This is all that matters.   

You yawned, suddenly aware of how terribly sleepy and sunken in your eyes were.  

“Tired?” 

“Yeah,” you admitted, your eyelids drooping without you caring enough to stop them.  You fought to keep them open, shaking your head to loosen the sleepiness.  

But George reached his arm over, and with a feather-light touch began stroking your upper arm. 

Just for a second, you thought.  You felt yourself hum automatically as your muscles relaxed and eyes drooped closed.  

The kitten’s soft purr soothed your ears and the fur of its tail brushed against your hairline.  Everything was soft, and warm, and gentle. 

Just for a second , your mind repeated in circles.  Until it eventually gave in and gave into the bliss, drifting away into somewhere between everywhere and nowhere.  

…

You awoke not remembering that you had slept.  Your still-sleepy eyes reluctantly opened, to an unfamiliar wall color and blanket under you.  You felt your legs enveloped in something soft and warm, and looking down you realized that someone’d draped a blanket over you. 

George did.   You sad up with a start, rubbing your eyes as the awareness of being at George’s house returned.  Not only that- having taken a nap for who-knows-how-long at George’s house.  George’s room.   

Confused yet persistent butterflies inhabited your stomach as you groggily stretched your arms.  The cat wasn’t anywhere to be found, and neither was George. 

But you heard his voice.  After a second. 

“Dream!  You idiot!” 

Clear and loud.  You looked towards where it came from, and almost jumped when you realized that in front of the desk and monitors was a black propped up screen.  It shielded George from your view, essentially dividing the room in two. 

“Give it back!  Sapnap, kill him!  He’s gotta be low!” 

He’s just talking to his friends- probably in Minecraft. 

But his voice was sort of different than how he talked with just you and Sapnap.  More… restrained?  You couldn’t place it. 

The wall behind him must’ve been his greenscreen, you realized.  He wouldn’t have that up unless…

Was he… streaming ?

No, he couldn’t be.  Obviously that’d be too risky with you in the room- what if you said something?  Or the greenscreen fell down?  Or he accidentally let something slip? 

How good was his microphone exactly?

Immediately all the worst ran though your mind at a million miles per hour.  

As quietly as you could, you reached over to where you’d set down your phone on the bed and checked the time.  

It was two hours later than you’d arrived, so probably an hour and a half after you’d slept.

Alright, that’s not terrible.  

You wondered how you should, if you should somehow signify that you were awake without disrupting George’s stream. 

What if I just walked in?   A voice in the back of your head taunted. 

No you idiot. 

Eventually you decided the best way was to text him.  But before that you flipped your camera to selfie mode to check if you looked alright- spoiler, you didn’t.  By your standards.  

You hastily brushed through your hair, then luckily spotted a comb on the bedside table (you made a mental note to tease George about it later).  As you reached over, though, your wrist nudged against a glass of water making the slightest clink noise. 

Apparently that was enough to alert Geroge, though. 

“Be right back guys, just getting a sip of water,” he said, and you heard the sound of his headphones being set down.  

Then he called your name, sweet enough to melt you.  “You awake?” he said, peering out from behind the greenscreen.  You smiled, nodding. 

“Oh, I thought you’d sleep for a lot longer.  I’ll end up now- I was, erm, streaming by the way.” 

“I know, I could hear you,” you said, bringing the soft white blanket to your chin as he looked around flustered.  You giggled at how very adorable he was. 

“You don’t have to end because of me,” you assured.  “Could I use your bathroom though?” 

“Yeah, of course,” he said, gesturing towards a door next to him.  You got up and stretched your legs, yawning away your remaining sleepiness.  It was a miracle that you hadn’t slept longer after staying up all night, and your curiosity silently wondered what might’ve happened if you just slept through his stream.  Would he have woken you up?  

Or maybe even fallen asleep next to you?

You shook away you idiotic fantasies as you passed by him, planting a smiling kiss where his jawline met his ear.

Chapter Text

Maybe it was a good thing that George never listened to you.  You’d have realized soon enough how much you wanted him to end stream if he did what you said and didn’t.  

As you emerged from the washroom George was wrapping up his stream, thanking subs and saying bye to everyone.  You grinned as he quickly glanced your way, and you tiptoed your way around the greenscreen and back onto the bed.  A sigh of relief escaped you as you flopped onto your back holding your phone above you with your arms outstretched. 

You heard George giggle, his friends probably cracking a joke through the headphones.  

Curious, you opened the twitch app on your phone and clicked to his stream without thinking.  As soon as it opened George's voice from a minute ago played rather loudly and you squeaked, rapidly turning down the volume.  You hoped that he- or more importantly, the stream- couldn't hear that.  Or at least passed it off as a cat sound. 

Your eyes glazed over as chat scrolled past speedily, whilst George kept thanking donos and insisting to Sapnap and Karl that he had to leave.  Dream's voice laughed warmly in the background, in a joking and scarily knowing tone that made you think that he knew about you being in the room.  

It made sense- George would probably text Dream about something like this.  Still, the thought of you being the subject of conversation between them gave you butterflies.  

And, as expected, when your mobile-lag finally caught up to the present when you'd made a noise people were suspicious.  You wondered how they picked up on your squeak and not the rustling of bedsheets, but alas. 

"Guys, it's just my cat," George said, and you immediately cringed.  If chat was anything like you thought it was, it'd be begging for cat-content until George'd finally give in. 

But luckily it looked like he knew how to tame them.  “Sorry guys, it’s asleep right now- I’ll get you cat content later,” he lied, and you stifled a giggle.  “Seriously, I’ve got stuff to do, bye!” 

You pressed your ear to the phone to hear the response better, “Yeah, George, go play with your cat,” Sapnap said teasingly- a little too teasingly.  He knows too.   And he indirectly called you a cat.

You huffed, impulsively opening discord as the stream minimized and creating a new conversation with Sapnap. 

Don’t call me a cat!  You sent, with an angry emoji.  It was dumb, but hopefully his reaction on stream would be giggle-worthy. 

“What?!” you heard out loud, from George.  “Oh.  Shut up.”

“George!  Control your cat,” you heard from Sapnap through your phone, followed by George saying ‘what?!’ after.  Stupid mobile delay. 

You smirked, as George quickly changed the subject to thank a few donos.  

You liked teasing him, but knew that the viewers were pretty perceptive.  Anything more would be dangerous. 

That didn’t stop you from thoroughly enjoying seeing George’s face twist into a smile to hide his blush, as he obviously read some dm’s from his friends.  

“Thank you for the bits, erm, ‘gnfsgirlfriend’.  Weird username, but thanks,” he laughed.  You giggled, taking joy in the way he looked to his right quickly and hesitantly as soon as he read the name.  Not to mention Dream and Sapnap’s snickers in the background, and Karl throwing in a dnf joke. 

“Okay!  I actually have to go. Bye guys!” he said with finality, for like, the tenth time.  But this time he waved his hands like he always did when ending, and a second, later before the stream even ended on your phone, you heard some clicks and the setting down of headphones.  

“Hey!” he said cheerily as he peered around the greenscreen again, grinning at you and running a hand through his headphone-indented hair.  You sat up, setting down your phone as he took a seat on the side of the bed.  His back, now cloaked in a dark gray sweatshirt, faced you and he rubbed his temples with his fingers.  

“Tired?” you asked.

“Yeah,” George responded, bowing his head down as his neck relaxed.  He sunk his head down as he kneaded his shoulder with the heel of his palm, elbows resting on his knees.  

You scooted forward, wrapping your hands around his shoulders as he hummed contently.  Planting your nose in his hair, you massaged where his neck met his shoulders, feeling the tension slowly release.  It smelled overwhelmingly of fresh shampoo, with a faint trace of mahogany and cedar scent.   

Wordlessly and tenderly, your fingers pressed gently onto his skin.  His breathing was a bit hasty at your first touch, but eventually you took satisfaction in the way it mellowed into a calm rhythm.  You unintentionally matched it, breathing in synchrony and relaxing your cheek onto his neck and your chin on his hoodie.  

You perhaps could’ve fallen asleep, had the fragrance of whatever he used in the shower been a bit fainter.  But you enjoyed it, melting into the fabric of his hoodie as your hands lulled in motion, dipping under the neckline and against his collarbones.  

You almost gasped at how defined they were and hesitantly allowed yourself to explore them with your fingers.  Dipping in the groves and smooth trails where soft skin met bone.  Your touch was feather light, yet as your hands made their way almost wrapping around him you eventually sunk into a full hug.  

All your weight leaned on him, and you crossed your arms around his upper half so that each hand rested on the opposite shoulder.  You kept brushing your fingers under the fabric on his skin, closing your eyes gently as he gingerly leant his head on yours where it rested.  You held him in a careful embrace, pulling him tighter as he lifted his hands to gently hold where your arms crossed.  You could feel him closing his eyes too. 

As you swayed you felt legs cramping suddenly.  You moved them out from under you and wrapped them around George’s waist, one on either side.  Hearing his breath hitch, you hummed softly and tightened them.  

Everything melted away. 

The stream, the jokes, the bed, the time… nothing existed.  Nothing but the small spiral of warmth that rested in your core.  Nothing but the still velvety paradise blanketed the both of you.

“George?” you mumbled. 

“Yeah?”  His voice was sleepy and a bit raspy from streaming.  You tucked your chin into the folds of his sweatshirt hood.  

“Your headphone dent looks stupid.” 

George snickered.  “Fix it then.” 

You obliged, messing up his hair and running your fingers through it.  You could tell it gave him tingles, and he protested when you stopped. 

“Fine, needy.” 

“Yeah.”  You could tell that both of you were too tired to do much thinking.  Your nap could only energize you for so long, you felt your sleepiness returning.  Not to mention this was probably when George would end up sleeping too, and you felt bad keeping him up. 

“I should probably go,” you said finally and reluctantly, lifting your jaw. 

George huffed.  “Why?” 

“I mean, you’re probably gonna wanna sleep soon right?”

“Huh?  Oh, I mean yeah, but what does that have to do with you leaving?” 

You gave him an incredulous look that you knew he couldn’t see.  

“What?  I can’t, like, sleep here,” you said matter-of-factly.  You brought your feet up to his lap, and he rubbed your socks with his hands.  

“Why not?” 

You laughed.  “I mean, I could, but-”

“But what?  I don’t get it.” 

“Isn’t it kinda… scandalous?”  

George snorted.  “You act like we’re in the medieval ages.”  

You giggled, half from your feet being ticklish.  “I mean, c’mon.  What will your mum think if some random girl just spends the night over.” 

“She doesn’t care!”

“Oh?” you raised your eyebrow.  “Is this a regular occurrence?” 

“What?  No, she’s just… I’ll explain it.” 

“What’s there to explain?  A stranger sleeping in your son’s room?” 

George turned his head towards the shoulder you were leaning on.  “You’re not a stranger though.  Not to me.” 

“But to your mum-” 

He stopped your debate with your name, spoken plainly and flatly.  “Don’t worry about her.  You can sleep over here, you’re tired.  If you’re uncomfortable just say so, but otherwise we’re totally fine with it.”

You blushed deeply.  His directness was hot.  

“Fine, fine.  I’ll stay over,” you gave in,  squeezing your thighs around him and resting your cheek back on his shoulder.  

He rubbed his chin on your forehead, and you could feel his light stubble brush your skin gently.  You placed a kiss gently, smiling with your lips against his jaw as he let out a happy sound.

Maybe this would be alright.

It was just sleeping, right?  After all, you were together.  Like, dating.  This was normal. 

You told yourself to relax as George finally released himself from your embrace, going downstairs to get an extra blanket.  

“Don’t forget, tell your mum.  Make sure she’s okay with it,” you reminded him. 

George nodded.  “Yeah I know.”  He turned around, and in the doorway stopped for a moment before softening his voice.  “Plus, I think she likes you.”

Chapter Text

George returned with a thick blanket and pillows stacked up in his arms, with his phone to his ear.  You were pretty amazed at how he managed to balance all of that in one arm.   Especially since it took up enough volume to cover the lower half of his face.  

You giggled, lifting them out of his arms and began making the bed with extra sheets.  It felt odd, getting ready for bed when sunlight still peeked through gaps in his blinds.  It also felt rejuvenating, like a sleepover- awakening ancient memories of sleepovers as a kid as you stacked up the pillows. 

“Yeah, I’ll call you in the morning,” George said into the phone.  “Yeah.” 

He smiled at you as he caught you looking in interest, your ears peeled trying to catch the voice of whoever was on the other end.  

As though reading your mind, he mouthed “Dream”.  You rolled your eyes- of course it was Dream.  Who else would it be?

His voice was too muffled for you to hear so you kept fluffing and setting the pillows.  You then gestured to show you were going to the bathroom.  

The door clicked shut, and you let out a sigh through a smile. 

This was really happening.  You were about to sleep over, at George’s house.  In his bed, with him. 

Your heart began to beat much faster than you’d anticipated.  You turned on the tap and splashed some cool water on your face, to calm yourself down, and softly dabbed it dry with a towel.  

You bit your bottom lip.  Your fingers ran along the edge of the sink and your eyes flitted across all the products that lined George’s sink.  Standard stuff, obviously.  But somehow, despite George being all but a doorway away, looking at his stuff made you feel closer to him.  Gave you a strange peek into his daily routine. 

Mindlessly you tousled your hair, putting it up and down unsatisfied with how it looked.  Eventually you decided to leave it down.  A bit scruffy-looking, but in a charming way though. 

You heard George’s faint murmur outside, and didn’t really feel like going back out whilst he was still on a call.  You sighed, surveying yourself in George’s mirror.  His reflection stared back at him through it every day, you thought.  He fixed his hair here, brushed his teeth… though it was doubtful he stared at his reflection as much as you would if you looked like him.

He probably shaved here, you thought, eyes glazing over the discarded razor and shaving cream on a shelf.  His jawline… the jawline you’d pressed your lips against and felt as it rubbed against your forehead.  

You were sure your delirium was getting the better of you at this point.  Your thoughts were all slurred together.  Or rather you were thinking through your eyes at this point. 

Still, those eyes landed on the cologne bottle next to some toothpaste, and you promptly collected it in your hand and took a sniff.

It smelled like he did on your date.  You’d never forget the scent, after burying your face into his jacket so that the smell was basically buried in your nose.  

It smelled of that cool starry night, passing wanderers on the bridge.  Energetic conversations and wine with a touch of faded lamplight and a dream-like star-lit kiss.  

Without thinking you sprayed a bit on your wrist, inhaling the essence until it made you cough.  You knew that had you smelled it in any other context it’d probably annoy you, the obviousness of being bought at some random men’s cologne store.  But it wasn’t some random guy’s- it was George’s.  That smell, mixed with the scent of his shampoo, would always be no one but his.  

His, his and his. 

Finally you made your way back out and beelined your way to the bed, since George was still on the call with Dream.  He’d migrated to the computer, headphones on and discord tabs open.  He flashed you a grin as you playfully flicked his forehead.  

And suddenly you reddened, at the way his eyes quickly looked you up and down.

Just for a moment.  A blink and you’d have missed it.  

But you managed to catch it as his eyes flicked down to your waist, up to your exposed neck and hair and back up to your eyes.  His irises held a deliberate shine when they met yours again.  Playful, flirty.  

You hated how easily he could make you flustered.  

Just one look and you had to avert your gaze and shuffle to the bed before he could see you blushing like an idiot.  God, you were so dumb.  

You plopped onto the bed into a mound of pillows.  You rubbed your feet together, stupidly twisting a strand of hair through your fingers.  George had taken the greenscreen down now, so you could see all the inner workings of his setup in action from your perch on the bed.  His fingers typed lightning fast on the light-up keyboard and his left hand moved equally as quickly on the mouse.  He made some comments to Dream about how he had to go, but eventually grunted and agreed to two more minutes.  

Good, more time for you to chill out, after… that .  Whatever that was. 

It was like suddenly like the flame of a lamppost in old London was lit, ignited in the pit of your stomach.  A small, dancing, annoying-ass flame that made your skin tingly with heat under so much as George’s gaze.  

You cursed yourself for spending too much time thinking about him in the bathroom.  It must’ve wound up your muffled feelings into a ball, that was now bursting to be released.  It’d been fine until now, but now…

“Dude, literally just shut the fuck up,” you heard George say jokingly.  His voice was obviously sleepy, but Dream was probably asking him for help with stuff and keeping him on a call.  “Okay, fine I’ll help you.  Idiot.” 

 It was that stupid look he’d given you just now.  That stupid smirk, the slight eyebrow raise- that stupid boy.  He had no right driving you this crazy. 

You stared at his back in the strangest amalgamation of annoyance, awe, embarrassment, fondness... 

...and something deeper.  Your mind immediately latched onto the word “love”, but that didn’t feel quite right.  The same level of passion, you supposed, but it was something less… pure.  It was more sultry and messy and even a little scary.

You dipped your feet gently under the blanket and settled your back onto the pillows.  Even after shoving your phone into your face you couldn’t take your eyes off of the back of George’s neck.  The way the exposed skin peeked above the black hood of his sweatshirt, and his short hair in the back melded into it.  

Damn, you were so tired that you were staring at his neck and actually finding it interesting.  Eventually you tore your gaze off of him and onto your phone, scrolling until he finally said the words “alright, imma log off”.  

He chuckled, then replied to whatever Dream said with, “I’ve gotta sleep with my girlfriend-”

Your head shot up, and luckily he stopped himself before you erupted into a fit of giggles as he looked back at you apologetically.  You raised your eyebrows dramatically, urging him to go on. 

“I meant,” he clarified, to both Dream as well as you, “Not that.  Not like that.” 

You imagined that Dream sarcastically said something like “sure” because George rolled his eyes and scoffed, before hanging up the call a minute after.  

Finally, George swung around in his chair and set down the headphones.  He groaned and stretched his arms above him, before stopping as his eyes landed on you again. 

You weren’t sure what it was that made him stop, and you felt way too self-conscious for a moment.  And for that moment, he let his gaze wash over you unrestrainedly.  Albeit, you were snuggled in a blanket, but the way he looked at you made you feel like you were wrapped in solid gold. 

“There’s something I forgot,” he muttered after a while, still standing, and snapping his fingers trying to jog his memory.  “Oh, yeah- my mum was asking if you wanted lunch- erm, or dinner, for us I guess.” 

You laughed, “No, I’m alright.  That’s so kind of her, though.”  You’d almost forgotten it was the middle of the day.  His room always looked in a state of late-evening bliss, with the blinds shut and lights dim.  

“Hm?” he said, spaced out. 

“I said that’s nice of her.” 

“Oh, yeah.  Sorry, kinda… just tired,” George said, suddenly averting his gaze.  You wondered why he'd suddenly become so shy, when just a second ago he’d (accidentally) admitted to wanting to sleep with you.  

“You alright?” you asked, looking up at him with your head tilted.  

He hummed, eyes still moving all around the room but on you.  You couldn’t tell if that was a yes. 

But either way, he gripped his phone in his hand and tossed it onto the bed.  George made his way to his dresser and mindlessly grabbed some clothes.  Then he smiled back at you, rubbing the back of his neck, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Chapter Text

It'd been 13 minutes (you’d counted) that George’d been in the bathroom.  Okay- that sounded sus.  But aside from the running of water for a couple minutes you couldn’t hear anything, well, weird.  

You made yourself at home in his bedroom in the meanwhile, setting down your purse on the foot of the bed and taking off your jacket.  You hadn’t worn the most comfortable outfit, especially not to sleep in, but it wasn’t as annoying as you’d thought it’d be.  

Plus, you couldn’t imagine yourself sleeping here for more than a couple hours.  With the amount you’d hyped up this whole “sleeping at George’s house” thing to yourself, your cowardice still existed and forbade you from making yourself too comfortable.  

George.   The way his name emerging in your mind sent shivers down your spine.  The way just his eyes lit up your heart from the inside.  

You were so in love, it was pathetic.  

“Hey,” you heard George’s voice, snapping you out of your trance as he opened and closed the door with a click.  

“Hey,” you smiled peeking above your phone screen.  The blanket had been brought to your chin so just the tips of your socks were visible.  

George had changed into an oversized t-shirt, similar to before but this time it was heathered gray with a Ravenclaw crest on the front.  Under it were black and white plaid pajama bottoms that looked silky soft to touch.  

He looked so adorable in oversized clothing.  

All bundled up and swallowed in fabric.

“Ravenclaw, huh?” you chuckled.  “Makes sense.” 

“Yeah?  How so?” he smirked, making his way over to the lightswitch over by the door.  As soon as he flipped it off and the artificial light disappeared, the room’s energy completely transformed.  Warm golden hues were replaced by cool, calming blue that reflected teal onto every white surface.  Darkness swallowed everything that wasn’t in the direct light of the semi-transparent blinds, including George’s face and most of the room. 

You thought for a moment.  “I dunno, aren’t they supposed to be nerdy?” 

George snickered.  “Something like that.” 

Of course you knew everything about Harry Potter.  Inside and out.  All seven books and all eight movies- needless to say you had extensive knowledge on the qualities of each house.  

But something in your mind blocked you from going all bookworm on him, right away at least.  Like when you’d hide your interests in middle school to seem “cool”, as shitty as that sounded. 

George approached closer, simply sitting on the bed with back to you just like before, just closer to the headboard.  He pulled up his phone gently, displaying the lock-screen full of notifications, most of them seemingly from twitter but a couple from discord, and imessages. 

You turned over on your side to peek better, seeing him click on twitter and start writing up a reply.  

“And inquisitive,” you hummed. 

“Hm?” he grunted, scrolling through some texts.  

“And intelligent,” you mused, head sinking deeper into the pillow.  Your gaze was still pinned on the light of his phone screen, lost in circling spiraling rumination.   “And funny, and… passionate, and…” 

Soft synonyms fell off of your lips, truth and adoration dripping with each adjective.  You trailed off, and only then you looked up to see George looking down at you from the side with curious eyes.  They glinted with humor as if a quip was on his tongue, that he was holding back.  

Your mouth fell a bit dry at the sight of him looking at you, with such intent behind his gaze.  It was as though he was sifting through your mind, and there was a glimmer that you couldn’t quite perceive.  Something hidden and mystical, magical even perhaps.  Like a Lumos spell on the tip of a wand.  

“And?” 

You smirked.  “And snobby, and annoying, and-”

“Alright, I get it,” he laughed.  As George responded he slipped his feet under the blankets and got into bed, next to you.  There was a foot of distance still, and he kept his eyes back glued on his phone.  You returned yours to your screen as well, to hide the small blush that was creeping into your cheeks.  

“What’s your house, then?” 

You told him your house, or at least the last one you’d gotten on Pottermore.  

He hummed for a moment, gaze not lifting from his twitter feed.  It still astounded you how he could see the “999+” next to the notification tab and not be fazed, but he managed. 

“That seems about right,” he said after a bit.  He propped up 2 pillows behind him to lean on, and asked if you wanted any more which you declined.  

“How so?” you asked, raising your eyebrows and looking over at him.  

He began listing qualities, less dreamily than you had but you felt rather touched.  He didn’t look you in the eye, though- but you were thankful for that.  His gaze instead wandered around the room and down to his phone as he used his free hand to exaggerate his points.  You hadn’t realized before how much he talked with his hands, when they were free of course.   Which you supposed they weren’t when he was gaming.  

 It was cliche, everything about your conversation.  Harry Potter houses, followed by “what's your favorite book?” and “favorite character?” (he’d answered five, and Harry to which you teased him about for being basic).  

“He’s underrated,” he shrugged.  “Has the most character development!”

“Obviously!” you replied, “he’s the main character!” 

“Yeah, exactly.” 

You sighed, exasperated especially after trying to convince him that the Order of the Phoenix was in fact not the best book.  But alas, you gave up. 

It was strange, you thought, how he placed his opinions.  They didn’t seem to be set in stone for him, but not awfully strong either.  He seemed rather neutral, impartial on most things.  Keen to avoid arguments when easiest.  You respected that, but it also made you feel silly about playfully poking fun at him for dumb stuff.  As though you were being a child, and he was a fully matured adult.  

But really, it was hard to feel that way when his eyes sparkled every time you felt that a childhood memory had risen to the surface of his mind.  He told you about when he first read the series, how he’d dressed up as a wizard for halloween and even rode a broomstick around the house when he was really young.  You giggled endlessly, soaking up every anecdote that he shared.  

George pointed to the wall and said that he used to have a ravenclaw pennant hanging there, where the silver YouTube play button now rested.  It was symbolic, kind of, you thought that something so symbolic of his childhood could only be replaced by an award for achieving his dream.  Or maybe you were just thinking too deeply about it.  

You told him about the first time you went to Universal Studios’s Harry Potter World and his eyes lit up when he asked if you went to the Florida one.  You didn’t have the heart to tell him that it was actually the one in California- but how different could they be, really?

You noticed yourselves begin to inch ever closer and closer, especially when you or him started digging up some old photos and showing them to each other.  The space between you lessened and lessened, sleeves meeting skin and thighs brushing against trousers.  It never failed to make your skin heat at the touch, but you slowly learned to ignore it and carry on as though you hadn’t noticed.  After a while you became simply used to having your upper arm brush against George’s, almost feeling comfort in the blissfully warm touch.

It was everything you’d dreamed of, really, had you had the chance to step back and think about it. 

But you didn’t, and before you knew it you were looking at a photo of George and his mum and dad, outside of some Harry Potter fair with butterbeer in hand.  George’s small face was engulfed in a grin, and you noticed with a chuckle that he still smiled with his eyes way back then.  

He couldn’t have been more than eight in the picture, and the way his little wizard robes swallowed his figure was incomparably adorable.  Well- somewhat comparably.  Perhaps a bit comparable to how his cozy pajamas engulfed him right now.  

Your sleepiness and George’s alike had escaped you suddenly, and you only realized it again (finally) when an ache in your head became a bit too unbearable to just be an average headache.

“Dammit,” you scoffed, still laughing at the adorable picture.  “I'm still listening, just gonna lie down.” 

“You alright?” George asked consolingly. 

“Yeah, yeah, just head hurts is all,” you assured him.  “Anyway, keep telling the story!” 

George wasn’t convinced.  “Are you sure you’re okay?  Now that I think about it, you’ve been awake for a while.  You should get some rest.” 

“No!” you huffed.  “I’m not tired, I want to keep talking!” 

As though on cue your head panged again, but you ignored it save for an unavoidable wince.  

George frowned, leaning back into his own pillows.  “I really think you should get some sleep-”

“I’m fine!” you cried, aware of the delirium in your voice by now.  It was a miracle you stayed up this long to be honest.  You knew you were being cruel to your body, but you’d give anything to keep hearing George talking.  Talking to you.

“I want to talk to you,” you said softly, setting off your phone and pulling up the blanket to your chin again.  You tried your best to stifle a yawn, but alas you couldn’t help it.  

George smiled down at you affectionately.  You noticed the sleepiness in his own eyes, although faint and more akin to empathy than anything. 

“I’ll be here in the morning,” he replied, filling you with all the warmth you could’ve dreamed of.  

And if that wasn’t enough, he plopped one pillow from behind his head onto the ground and re-fluffed the one beneath it, so that it acted as a shallower head-prop.  

You hummed, your nerves somehow nonexistent as you turned yourself to face him.  

His shoulder was only a handful of centimeters from your forehead, the tip of your nose only a couple from his upper arm. 

Through tired eyes you blushed the tiniest bit and noticed luckily that his eyes were fixed on his phone.  

“Are you sleeping?” you murmured, eyes drooping slowly.  

“Erm, not yet.  I think.” 

You hummed in agreement.  Everything was slow now, muted and quiet and soft.  The light of his phone screen didn’t even bother you.  You felt a bit of warmth radiating off of his skin, and the rise and fall of his chest set your own breath into a calm rhythm.  

You felt your toes wiggle under the blanket. Through your drowsiness you nonchalantly inched your feet towards his, until your sock brushed against his thigh.  You were practically half asleep by now, but the last thing you heard was a soft hum from George as your gentle touch reached his skin.  

The sweetest music to your dreaming ears.

Chapter Text

When your eyes fluttered open, (or more accurately shot upon, but that doesn’t sound as elegant) your vision was filled with dark gray.  Dark gray fabric to be precise- George’s shirt.  The back of his shirt.  

The room was much, much darker than before when you’d fallen asleep.  Stripes of pale moonlight draped onto the bed sheets through the blinds, that were all that illuminated the otherwise navy blue room.  Most things were obscured from view, but George’s pale skin and greasy hair reflected the light.  Though his face was turned away you could tell he was still deeply asleep, as his shallow breath flowed rhythmically and tenaciously.  

You allowed yourself to pretend that you were still sleeping, leaning into the elegant aspects of falling asleep next to a lover that you hadn’t been able to when you’d passed out before.  Your eyes might’ve shut, or they might’ve settled awake pretending to be.  For a minute, an annoying minute, your breath became manual as you unknowingly tried to match it to George’s. 

He was a pretty sleeper, every breath letting out a faint whistle through his nose that could’ve been mistaken for a kitten.  He was also a very still sleeper, and if you hadn’t felt the rise and fall of his body ripple through your body you might’ve thought he was dead. 

You moved onto your back brushing the blankets, but luckily he didn’t wake to the noise.  A sigh escaped your lips as you soaked in the giddy unfamiliarity of staring at a ceiling that wasn’t your own.  Crown molding lined where the ceiling met the wall, and stuck out blindingly white with its reflective surface.  Your eyes followed its path, and the plastic turned off LED lights under it.

Your gaze shifted to the vertical striped blinds and the light that emerged from each of them, making you have to blink as your eyes adjusted.  You hadn’t even noticed the stack of cardboard boxes under them, you made a mental note to check out what was in them when it wasn’t so dark.  Basically everything else was obscured in darkness apart from some lights from his monitor and computer across the room.  

It seemed as though thirty minutes or so had passed, and George began stirring ever so slightly in his sleep.  That disencouraged you from grabbing your phone in fear that it would wake him.  His peacefulness in that state was something you didn’t want to disturb; ever if you could help it. 

His breathing became less uniform and a bit softer, with little huffs every so often.  Then he shifted position slowly, so that he was first on his back and then on his left arm.  Facing you. 

You were still looking up, but could feel his soft breath on the exposed skin of your neck.  You were frozen still, staring at the ceiling trying to convince yourself that you weren’t nervous. 

But your stomach churned and butterflied and you felt heat rise to your face as you slowly let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

George’s breath slowly began returning to its normal sleeping pace, but this time you could feel each exhale brush your hair and warm your skin. 

He was only a couple inches away.  If you were to turn towards his face, you’d probably be within kissing distance. 

Kissing distance .  That was such a dumb thing for you mind to say.  Were you really that horny?

But you wanted to see his face.  You wanted to trace his soft features with your gaze, nuzzle your nose against his and count the freckles that dotted his cheeks.  To observe which strands of hair fell on his forehead, and how his eyelashes looked when closed. 

Sucking in another breath, you ever so slowly shifted onto your right side, first turning your hips and torso and then finally turned your head.  

Unexpectedly, your face was eye level with his lips.  His soft, barely illuminated lips that shone ever so slightly in the dim moonlight.

You couldn’t help it.

You couldn’t help staring, enthralled with how enchanting and captivating his visage was.  And how magically unbelievable it was that it existed only a few inches away. 

You couldn’t help it. 

Couldn’t help but to appreciate the softness of the skin on his lips in your sleepily hypnotized eyes.  As they parted gently when he exhaled and whistled gently. 

How the slight stubble on his chin and on his cupid's bow contrasted the tenderness of his skin.  

How the rosey pink tint of his bottom lip melted into the corners of his sleeping smile.  

Your own lips curled into an unintentional smile as your eyes fluttered gently shut.  You couldn’t believe this was your reality.   

Finally your gaze loosened off of his mouth and up, up to his cheeks and nose and eyebrows and hair.  But it rested on his dark eyelashes, that from your angle curled gently and easily.  Effortlessly.  Like brushstrokes painted on the canvas of his skin. 

His hair was just a blob of darkness from your view, that swept his forehead gently.  Casting a subdued shadow and blending into the pillow he rested on.  It took all your self-control to not reach out and run your fingers through it.  

You wondered how handsome he’d look if he grew it out. 

It took a few minutes, passing between trying to fall back asleep and staying awake tentatively, but eventually you heard a soft grunt from George’s lips and his eyes fluttered open quickly.  He huffed out a breath but immediately quieted, probably thinking that you were still asleep.

You hummed to signify that you were awake, softly in case he was still half-asleep. 

But, luckily he wasn’t.  Almost immediately he tilted his head downward to you, eyes widening a bit as he noticed the close distance between you.  You were silent as you smiled gently and looked up under dark eyelashes. 

  You met his eyes, darkened pupils in the night hooded by equally dark lashes. 

And then your eyes met his lips.  

Unintentionally, and quickly.  Just a glance. 

But enough for George to notice.  

He huffed out what could’ve been an exhale, but you knew was a breathy chuckle.  You still hadn’t uttered a word to each other but he scooted downwards, not breaking eye contact, but so that your faces were aligned instead of his eyes being level with your hairline.  

You inhaled quickly, your way of gasping in the quiet subtle language that you were speaking to each other.  Your breath landed on his chin that was just below your own. 

Fuck.  You were really at kissing distance now. 

Your drowsy mind was swarmed with questions and anticipatory anxiety, but the second George’s mouth curled into a smile they scattered. 

Your gaze lowered again to his lips, this time making a point of it.  Without looking back up you could feel his eyes resting on yours.  

The tension was cranked up to its max.  And it seemed that, like you, he fed on that.  That moment of suspense right before resolution.  The brief moment when your feet slip off of a cliff before the fall, when your stomach doesn’t have a chance to drop and all is suspended in frozen time. 

Frozen time; that was the only way you could describe it.  Even your breath stilled.  Your muscles tensed, fixed in position.  

Just waiting for a command.  A shift in the status quo.  Something to act on.  To respond to.  To grab. 

And then George’s eyelashes fluttered shut.  You didn’t have a chance to see them open because before you could, your lips were crashed into his, suddenly, magically, and infatuatingly.  

You couldn’t tell who’d made the first move, but it didn’t matter.  It only took you a second to get drunk on the feeling of kissing him.  

His grogginess made his morning movements slurred and slow, but you didn’t care.  You had no problem making up for it.  

You kissed his bottom lip and all of its rosy pinkness until it was swollen and he had to pull away for a breath.  But he dove back in without a moment for yourself, warmth swirling all around and inside of you.  

Your breath hitched lightly as his arms snaked around your waist and he pulled you closer.  You pressed into him deeper, more.  More.  More. 

Wiggling your hand free you eventually brought it up to your face to quickly swat a stray hair strand out of your face.  You cupped it around George’s neck to grip him better, all whilst your noses nuzzled together and lips explored each other.  

It took you feeling lightheaded to realize that you needed to breathe, and parted away for a second to inhale.  Only then did you have a chance to open your eyes, meeting his closed ones as though he were still asleep.  His cheeks were just as flushed as yours, mouth parted sexily and begging for more.  

More.  More. 

He pulled you back in, tightening his grip on your waist, allowing his gentle but eager hands to roam up your back and under your shirt.  Tracing up onto bare skin with warm hands, that sent shivers up your spine with every wondrous touch.  Skin against skin, touch against touch and lips against lips. 

You let your hand on his neck trail down to his shoulder, then back up to trace along his jaw.  Slowly and elegantly, the pace of your kiss slowed and eventually came to a stop.  Just resting, with one final kiss that lasted for more than a couple seconds.  

As you parted, you kept your forehead leaning on his and looked into his eyes from that angle.  

You let out a giggle, as did he, gazing into George’s giant-looking brown eyes that said a million words in a moment. 

Your noses booped each other and eventually you slid your face down to bury into his shoulder.  His hands were now on your upper back and he hugged you, wholly and tightly, as you brought your other hand upto his neck and hugged him back.  You allowed yourself to just sink into George’s grasp, the pillows and the bedsheets. 

After a minute when your deep breathing calmed down, you could hear his heartbeat echo in your own chest.  You nuzzled yourself deeper into his neck and shoulder before releasing yourself to shift back down.  Your head lay on the bed but snuggled up against his chest, so that you could hear his heart even clearer.  After a minute, George rested his own head on yours. 

He wasn’t asleep.  You could feel it, and you could tell he knew you weren’t either.  

“George,” you whispered, barely an exhale even though you could’ve made as much noise as you’d liked. 

He hummed in response, gripping you tighter.  As though you’d slip through his fingers when he wasn’t looking. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out.  

There was nothing to say.

All you did was hum back, burying yourself deeper into his chest and humming again so that he felt the vibrations of your sound.  Almost naturally you wrapped your legs around his, feeling him lightly inhale at your movement. 

How crazy, that this was your reality.

Chapter Text

You wanted to stay there forever.

Forever was a long time.  You rarely dealt in large, undefinable quantities, but to put it simply there was no other way you could describe your feeling at that moment. 

Your legs wrapped around George’s soft trousers, his arms hugging your shoulders with all the sureness in the world.  You felt his jawline on your hair and your forehead was on the soft part of his neck.  

After a few minutes, he began to fidget his hands a little and you pulled back.  Still close enough to feel the heat of his breath, but far enough to relax your unknowingly tense muscles.  

As much as you tried, though, you just couldn’t get your eyes to flutter back shut.  Your brain was too active, your body too restless.  It appeared George felt the same way as he drew his arms back and used them to sit himself up, bringing another pillow up from where it’d been discarded on the ground.  He set it behind his back and grabbed his phone from the side table.  

You chuckled, pressing into his side and peering up to see what illustrated the screen before him.  

His lockscreen was his cat, although it was hard to make out with the wall of notifications that covered it.  He slid up to unlock it and navigated to discord in a flash, but you were able to catch his puppy and him adorning his home screen.

“Hey, I wanna see,” you giggled, reaching over and swiping up to close the app and see his wallpaper.  

The caramel puppy sat on his lap, his legs wrapped around her as he sat cross-legged.  He held her with gentle hands, looking down lovingly.  She was much, much smaller than she was now so it was probably taken when they first got her.  “Aww,” you cooed, eyes stuck on his enamored expression in the image. 

“What?” 

“You’re so cute,” you said, scrunching your nose and looking up to his face that basked in artificial blue light. 

He scoffed.  “What’s your homescreen, then?” 

Your face paled, and you shook your head violently.  “No.” 

“Show me!” he cried, interest piqued as you refused.  He laughed and reached over to grab your phone, and your second-late reaction time allowed him to succeed.  

He smirked, clicking the phone on. 

You grimaced, hiding your face in the blanket.  

George went silent for a second.  Dread filled you, wincing at what you knew filled your screen, thinking he’d probably make fun of you endlessly, at best.  

Then he burst out laughing, shoving the screen into your face.  It was a picture of his face, that you’d stared at way too long.  Eventually you gave in and just made it your screensaver, although you hadn’t intended for George to find it out. 

In hindsight that was an idiotic move, but then again you were an idiotic simp.   

“This picture?!  Really?!!”  George exclaimed suddenly, making you jump.

“What’s wrong with it?” 

“My hair’s all, like, weird.” 

You examined the picture again, then looked back up at him.  “No it’s not!  It’s cute!” 

“What??”  Before he could protest you reached out and ruffled his hair, brushing little strands onto his forehead to mimic how the picture looked.  It was noticeably longer than from when the photo was taken.  You remembered it- that was one of the first streams you watched.  It was earlier in Autumn, soon after you’d met.  

Maybe that’s why you liked the screenshot so much. 

“Grow out your hair more,” you murmured.  

“What?” 

“It’ll look nice, the simps will go crazy,” you said quickly.  

He blinked at you.  “You mean you ’ll go crazy?”

You shoved his face away lightly.  “No, s-shut up.” 

“Idiot,” you muttered, grabbing your phone back and turning around.  He couldn’t see your blushed cheeks and cheeky smile if you weren’t facing him. 

“Hey, hey, I’ll give you a better wallpaper,” he said, more gently taking your phone back in his hands.  He rolled over so he was sort of cuddling you, his frame wrapped around your shoulders like a warm blanket.  Maybe the tenderness of his gesture was what melted you into letting him take your phone. 

He navigated to the notes app, opening a new one and clicking on the drawing tool.

“What are you…” you trailed off, once you saw what he was drawing.  

“Wow, okay, so mature!” you rolled your eyes and scoffed, yanking back the phone with a half-drawn dick on its screen.  You shoved him back with your elbow as he dissolved into laughter, frustrating you more.  

Your endless banter evolved into getting up and carefully creeping your way downstairs.  It was 6:00 pm, and the sky was cloudily dark, giving the illusion that the sun had already set when it hadn’t.  

“My mum might be awake still, I’ll just tell her we have to go in a hurry,” George assured as you straightened your clothes and fixed your hair.  “We’ll just sneak out, don’t worry.” 

“George,” you said, “You know that we’re not teenagers, right?” 

“What?  Yeah, obviously.” 

You continued, “I can talk to your mum, without, like, the world ending.” 

George laughed awkwardly.  “I know that, but...” 

You glared at him through a smile.  “You think too much!”

“What’s wrong with that?” 

“Sometimes it's better to…” you leaned forward, hushing your voice and bringing your forward shy of an inch from his.  “Stop thinking.”

“And?” he said breathily.  

You pressed your lips against his.  “And start doing,” you finished after parting, running your tongue lightly over your lips to moisten them.  George hadn’t stopped looking at your mouth.  You twisted it into an innocent smile and winked teasingly, swiftly making your way out of the bedroom.  

“Wait-” he called after a moment, but you were already headed down the stairs.  

Turns out George was right, his mum was in the kitchen.  You heard the light clatter of pans and the running of the tap.  

“George, you’re up early,” she muttered, a bit irritated.  But she turned around with apologetic eyes as soon as she saw you. 

“Oh!  Hello dear, I didn’t realize it was you!  Would you like some tea or anything?” 

George shuffled forward behind you.  “No, mum, we’re just going.  It's pretty late, I should get her home-” 

“Nonsense, I’ll have it ready in a minute.  Help yourself to some pie from the fridge, George heat it up for her.” 

You smiled, nodding, and had a seat at the wooden table as George sulked to deposit the pecan pie in the oven.  He had a seat awkwardly next to you, you might’ve thought that he didn’t even live here with how uncomfortable he seemed.  

“The weather’s been rather nice, hasn’t it?” George’s mum made polite conversation.  You replied in the way that a respectable guest would, George fidgeting his hands next to you.  Gently you cupped a hand over his.  He smiled weakly, but his hands calmed.  

“So, how long have you been together?” she said, so nonchalantly that it almost went over your head.  Your head shot up and George coughed. 

“Sorry, erm, we, uh,” you stammered, taken aback.  “How’d you…”

“Sweetie, friends don’t sleep over for an entire day.  Or hold hands under the table.”

You quickly let go of George’s hand as rosiness rose to your cheeks.  You coughed, and George chuckled.  

“Touche” he said, and leaned toward you to hush, “So much for snaking out.” 

Eventually your teacup sat emptied of its sugary contents and your awkward yet charming conversation between the three of you came to a close.  She said something like “go on, get out of here, kids,” and you both promptly made your way out the door and into the fresh, pre-sunset world.  

Streetlights painted your path under waves of saturated color.  Milky blue that melted into orange and strawberry sorbet in the sky.  There wasn’t a cloud, not that you could see, and the moon hung just above the skyline of shallow buildings in its pale white silhouette.  Birds cawed and darted from apartment windows to telephone poles and rested on the wires that hung between them.   

You felt as though the two of you were nothing more than fluttering shadows on the sidewalk.  Cracks and the moss that grew between them crunched under your boots.  Your legs were the tiniest bit stiff from having been stationary for the better part of your day, if you could call it that.  

What a day, you thought.   

Or maybe said aloud, because George responded with a sighed “Yeah.”  That or he could read your mind, which was, albeit possible, far less likely.  

Memories crunched underfoot your passing thoughts, of the discord call and your impulsive decision to go and consequently sleep over.  George streaming whilst you were taking a nap, him laying down next to you, you wrapping your legs around him and him kissing you and… 

You stopped in your tracks, without noticing it. 

“You okay?” George turned and raised an eyebrow.  

“George, kiss me.” 

“What?!” 

“Kiss me.” 

“Why?” 

Your impatience surged you forward to close the gap between your lips, landing on his a bit clumsily.  But after a moment of confusion George kissed you back.  

You loved the way he met your intent, with just as much affection as you applied.  You only knew that now that you’d seen, or rather felt when he kissed you fully.  Hungrily.  Passionately.  

He was holding back now, but he was so good at convincing himself that he wasn’t that he’d fooled you.  

You couldn't quite decide if you liked that, a part of you craved more.

But the rational part of you knew exactly why he did it and respected him all the more for it.  The part of you that saw exactly the same thing in yourself, if a bit more subdued.  

And then as you parted, it clicked suddenly.  

That was why he didn’t show 100% of himself on camera, or any kind of social platform for that matter.  Why he always restrained himself, reeled himself in just before crossing the edge.  Why his jokes, at least on camera, were always laced with a touch of uncertainty and, well, control.  

Control.  That was it.  That was why, and why every time you felt as though something were happening, it faded as quickly as it appeared.  It was restraint, control but… why?

“Hey?” 

George cut through your thoughts.  Maybe he was a mindreader.  

“Yeah, sorry.” 

He looked up at you.  “What was that?” 

You cleared your throat.  “Nothing, nothing.”  Your gaze floated to an open gap between darkened houses, that allowed the true hues of the sky to be in view.  

“Wow,” you gasped.  Magenta danced with orange in a palace of clouds, as navy lined the balconies and pink crept in the crevices.  You swore you could see the ghosts of stars just beginning to peek out of their inky night cave.  Smiling, you instinctively turned your face to George. 

But his eyes were still on you.  “I wish you could see it,” you exhaled softly. 

“What do you mean?  The sky?  I can?” he said, puzzled. 

You chuckled and wrapped your arm around his waist.  “I mean the colors,” you said.  They’re…nice.” 

George hummed, and you could feel his warmth as he leaned his head on yours.  “Describe them,” he murmured, giving you the lightest squeeze with his arm that was wrapped around you.  

You thought for a moment.  “It, it kind of looks, like, sweet I guess.”

“Sweet?” 

“Yeah, like, cotton candy or something.” 

“You’re just saying that cus of clouds,” he chided.  

“No I’m- okay, this is hard.  Describing colors to someone who’s never seen em.  You have, never seen them, right?” 

“Yeah,” he half smiled, looking up at the sky.  “I mean, I dunno.  It’s hard to think about how you’ve never seen something you’ve, well, never seen.  To me it’s just normal.” 

“Have you ever tried those, like, colorblind glasses?” 

George laughed.  “Yeah, actually, for a video!  Just a month or so back.” 

You smiled, taking out your phone.  “Put them on when you get home, and look at this.” 

Gently, you swung the both of you around so that your backs were facing the sunset.  You pulled your phone up, opening the camera so that it pointed towards the two of you. 

You smiled lightly, George throwing up a hesitant peace sign.  He smiled with his eyes as usual, only parting his lips the smallest amount but still somehow conveying the happiest of emotions.  The colors blared beautifully in the background as you snapped the photo with your thumb.  

“Now that’s a wallpaper,” George joked, and you made an O with your mouth and, after quickly airdropping the picture to his phone, made it your screensaver.  

You grinned, George’s half-smile now full.  His smile lines gleamed in the glow of the drowsy sun and the breeze blew through his chocolatey, almost caramel in this light, hair.  

You tried to look back up at the quickly darkening sky, to capture its beauty one last time. 

But your eyes just kept coming back to George. 

Chapter Text

After that whole… saga, you took some time to yourself to get back to a bit of normalcy.  Winter break was coming up, and consequently your professors took that opportunity to drown you in assignments.  It was tough to even think for yourself, much less about George.  

That didn’t mean you didn’t think about him, though- it was quite detrimental how much of that night replayed in your mind.  You found yourself only being able to concentrate fully on work whilst in a discord call with him in the background.  His typing and soft hums as he figured something out were like music to your ears, and plus, it was more comforting to have him right there to talk to instead of your brain worrying itself about what he was doing at every given moment. 

You did, in reality, catch yourself being a bit possessive from time to time.  Unintentionally, of course, and you’d never let yourself confront him about anything.  But you’d be lying if you said that having hundreds of “thirst” edits of him on your TikTok “for you” page didn’t irk you a tiny bit.  Not that it was within his control, but it fed into your insecurity a little too much for your liking.  When he could have anyone else in the world, why would he have you?

Still, that paled in comparison to how elated you felt every time he sent you a stupid meme to react to, or asked your opinion on one of his YouTube thumbnails.  You’d always end up laughing at the stupid faces he made in them, but ultimately melted at how god damn handsome he looked.  

And, a bit shamefully, you got a bit too excited whenever you got the notification that he was live on twitch.  He always told you beforehand, of course, but you couldn’t help a flutter in your stomach at the thought of watching him interact with an environment so differently than yours.  It was a strange advantage, you thought, to dating a streamer.  You got an insight into something akin to a second personality, although it wasn’t really.  It was just a more energetic, more amplified version of himself.  Streamer George was simultaneously more candid and more guarded than he was talking with you.  He joked and laughed so honestly, but there was always a bit of mystery to him.  Mystery that didn’t really surround him when he was with you, wearing his heart on his sleeve and kissing you like there was no tomorrow. 

Your days were a bit hard to tell apart, in hindsight, by anything but your interactions with George.  You’d send him a Snap every morning when you woke up, and he’d do the same an hour or two later.  He’d send you some random TikTok and you’d roll your eyes, telling him how dumb it was as you thought about it the rest of the day.  Some days his sleep schedule would even allow him to go grab a drink at the coffee shop you worked at, and you’d hang out with him until the sun rose to its peak in the sky.  

By the time the first light snowfall reached the city, you’d both fallen into a rather dream-like routine.  It was soft and comfortable, but some days you felt a lack.  A lack of… excitement.

Excitement, like that day you slept over at his house.  When each of his movements would send your heart into a gallop and make your head hurt delightfully from overthinking.  

It was colorful and vibrant and a rainbow of emotions, and you missed it.  Or so you thought, seated next to the frost-coated window of one of your classes.  Your notes lay barren on the desk before you, and it being the last day before break, you couldn’t bring yourself to bother filling them.  

All you could think about was smushing your face against George’s the second you were out.  

“You done yet??” 

You smiled reading the text notification from George that brightened your phone screen.  

“6 minutes.. 5 now :)” you typed back. 

He responded with “:]” as you clicked off your phone praying to god that the professor wouldn’t call on you.  

Luckily you made it out of that dreadful place unscathed, out of the dark brick building and into a snowy wonderland. 

Alright, that was an exaggeration.  A huge one.  In reality it was more of a cold, wet, gross street with ice slush all on the sidewalks and exhaust fumes painting the snow mostly gray.  But freshly fallen snowflakes still clung to the branches of trees charmingly, icicles dripping with water casting kaleidoscopic rainbows onto the frost.  

You whipped out your phone as your boots crunched the snow underfoot, and before responding to his needy texts you opened SnapChat and sent him a quick half-selfie.  The side of your face was cut off, only your hat and hair and part of your mouth was visible.  You added the caption ‘Snow snow’ . 

A second later he responded with a snap of his own, an identical half-selfie, but holding up a cup of hot chocolate in frame.  Steam was visible above it and you could make out red and green Christmas decorations behind him.  

His caption was “Cocoa” . 

You grinned, taking another selfie from a less flattering angle with pleading eyes, “Make one for me” .  

He sent another one with wide bug-eyes and that smile with his lips pressed together and mouth drawn upwards on his face, the caption “Call me” .  

The directness sent electricity through your veins.  In a heartbeat you rang him up, tiptoeing around puddles as fast as you could and spotting a bright red double decker bus approaching the bus stop a couple yards away.  You waved it down, and graciously the driver stopped for you.  

“Happy break!” you exclaimed into the phone, flashing the driver a smile and gripping one of the overhead bars.  The bus was rather crowded, with fellow students and tired workers and elderly passengers.  All dressed in festively bundled up clothing that made your heart leap with the nearing of the holidays.  

“You’re done?” George cheered, “Woo, let’s go!” 

“Yup!  I’m heading over, meet me by the bus stop, yeah?”

“Sure.  Lemme finish some shit up, I’ll be over.” 

“What shit?” you asked a bit too loudly, receiving some elderly glares.  

“What stuff?” you repeated, hushed.  

“I’m in a call with Dream and Nick, we’re finalizing video ideas.  They wanna stream later,” he coughed and continued, “I’m trying to tell them that I can’t.”

“Oh,” you said, a pool of guilt building in your stomach.  “You, like, can still stream if you want to.  If they want you to.” 

George hesitated for a second.  “No, no.  I want to hang out with you.”

“You want to stream,” you said more confidently.  The last thing you wanted to do was hold him back, especially when it was what he’d rather do.  

“No.”  You were a bit taken aback by George’s sudden assertiveness.  “No,” he repeated, a bit softer, as if noticing the force in his voice.  “I want to be with you.” 

You smiled at the speckled gray floor.  

“But, if you want-”

“I’m not streaming!  I’m spending the day with you, period.”  Period.

Before you knew it the bus squeaked to a stop before your familiar bus stop.  You stepped out daintily as the door flung open.  Into the bright white wonderland that awaited you, and into the arms of the coziest-dressed boy you’d ever seen. 

George was bundled up in a creamy colored sweatshirt layered under a puffy coat, a scarf wrapped around his neck and a matching hat covering his ears.  His sweatpants were tucked into little boots with faux fur fluff.  

He hugged you around the waist and you wrapped your arms predictably around his neck.  You gazed into his eyes and how they absorbed the sparkling snow around you.  How his freckles were far more visible in the white light.  How cheeks were pink from the cold, and matched his lips that quivered ever so gently with the breeze.  

And then he kissed you.  Sweet and warm and whole.  Your chin nuzzled in his wool scarf.  You wrapped your arms tighter to pull yourself deeper.  His hands on the sides of your waist slid down.  They cupped around your thighs ever so slightly, as though there was no one else in the world but the two of you.  

You parted for a moment to catch your breath and a view of his dark eyelashes before leaning back in, the intoxicating scent of his cologne filling your senses.  Heat rose from your chest to your fingertips as they played with what hair was exposed from the back of his hat.  Twirls of dark locks wrapped around your fingers and the curve of his shoulder wrote your name in a hundred languages.  You wanted- no, craved- his touch.  

But alas, a reminder of the setting that surrounded you was told through the barriers of fabric that forbade your skin to meet his.  

Your mouth curling into a smile, you brought your lips to his ear.  

“Your cocoa’s gonna get cold, right?” 

George’s breath hitched at your shockingly seductive tone.  Even you were surprised by it, but pleasantly.  His slight squirm under the warmth of your fingers that dipped under his scarf and coat… it made you ache for more.  

“Y-yeah.  Let’s go,” he said, and you backed off, dusting off the front of your coat as if nothing had happened.  You extended a gloved hand to George, wool meeting wool in a softly secure grip.  

That familiar bubbliness buzzed through you and dusted your cheeks with a corally hue.  The same color as the stripes on George’s scarf and pom pom on his hat.  Specks of color in the colourless world.  

You felt a bit like a first grader holding hands with their best friend, jumping through puddles without a care in the world.  

First graders probably didn’t kiss like you both just did, though.  

“So,” you hummed, “I’ve got from now until New Year’s.  Any plans?” 

George laughed.  “I’m not really a holiday kind of guy, but… oh, Dream’s tryna get the new Manhunt out for Christmas.  So that’s cool I guess.” 

“No, I mean, like, relaxing stuff.  Not work.” 

“Work?  Right, yeah.  I dunno, I guess I just don’t consider that stuff work, but I guess you’re right,” he said, ice crunching under your boots.  “I guess my mum makes good gingerbread?”

“To be fair,” you offered, ignoring the mum thing, “If I had a job like that I probably wouldn’t consider it work either.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.  It’s crazy that I get to do this.”  George grinned.  I’m lucky.” 

You nudged his shoulder gently, leaning forward as you walked to peer into his eyes.  Light brown in the snowlight, and full of wonder as always.  His freckles were lightly visible against his pale face.  They dotted his cheeks like stars. 

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, smiling as bright as the blinding snow. 

“So am I.”

Chapter Text

George wasn’t kidding- his mom’s gingerbread really was the best.  As soon as you stepped through the doorway the comforting smell of the baked cookies reached your nose, luring you into the kitchen before George as if in a trance. 

“Oh, hello dear!” she welcomed, and you greeted her back.

“They smell delicious!” you exclaimed.  George’s kitten rested gently in his arms next to you, and his puppy lapped playfully at your ankles.  The second you’d opened the door you’d been greeted by her cheerful barking and shiny fur, and she was eager for more attention than you could possibly give.  

“My Christmas specialty!” George’s mom cheered, right as the tea kettle began whistling.  You’d noted the festive Christmas decorations dotted around the house, wrapped atop the mantel and over doorways.  There was a small charming centerpiece on the table sporting earthy colors of red and green, that matched the miniature Christmas tree in the living room.  

“Go relax in the sitting room, I’ll bring the snacks in a minute.” 

“Thanks mum,” George murmured, stroking the white fur on the kitten's head.  You noticed how starkly his accent contrasted with that of his mum’s, when they spoke to one another.  It had an American sharpness to it that by now you were used to, although his mum sounded far more traditional by comparison.  

You made your way back into the front room, and took a seat on the cushy sofa next to where the puppy had already made herself comfy.  George leaned back, sinking the sofa so that you tilted towards him.  You giggled, resting your head on his shoulder with his arm behind you over the back of the plush pillows.  Your gaze floated down to his phone screen where he was checking indirects.  You chuckled at a couple memes and tweets and edits of him.  The kitten eventually nuzzled its way into your side before deciding it preferred to sit on George’s arm on top of the sofa back.  

Your eyes flitted over to examine the rest of the room, newley adorned with decorations.  There were fake pine branches and holly draped over the oak piano that sat under a grand gold mirror across from you.  To your side the mantel had the words “Happy Holidays” draped across it under the flatscreen TV posted atop.  The screen played some mundane reports from the BBC, something about Covid probably (as usual).  

“Can you play?” you asked gently.  

George looked up from his phone.  “Hm?” 

You gestured to the piano.  He giggled.  “No, not really.  Some stuff I guess.” 

Your gaze became eager and pleading and he sighed, reluctantly swinging himself up and sauntering over to the instrument.  

“Any requests?”  You shook your head.  

Gently he placed his fingers on the keys, maneuvering them to the right ones.  His hands were poignant but his fingers relaxed yet confident- probably a gaming thing.  

Slowly he started pressing keys down with his right hand, notes emerging clearly and a bit clumsily.  You recognized it as the Zelda theme even before he added baritone harmonies with his left.  

He played along the tune, and you stroked the kitten next to you’s head mindlessly to the rhythm.  It was a nice song, evoking childhood memories and nostalgia of playing the game.  

After George was done he turned back with an expression, saying something like, “happy?” sarcastically.  You clapped dramatically, and even though he rolled his eyes you saw the glint of a smile as he sat up from the piano.  

Making his way back he paused to hide behind the mini Christmas tree, looking at you through the branches and ornaments with that smushed up smile.  

You giggled, pulling up your phone.  “Don’t move!  Lemme take a picture.” 

“Why?” he protested, moving out of the branches.  

“Shut up!” you pointed the camera in his face, and the moment you did his face went blank and smile disappeared.  You glared at him.  “One smile?” you pleaded, pouting.  

George rolled his eyes.  “Fine, one.”  He smushed his face again, a closed-lip smirk spreading across the bottom half of his face.  He raised his eyebrows and for some reason wrapped his arm around the tree.  Luckily you managed to snap the picture before he winced in pain at the faux pine needles poking his skin.  

You giggled, looking at the picture.  

“What?” he asked, rubbing glitter and ornament-sparkles off his blue shirt.  

“I’ll let you see, only if you swear that you’ll post it.” 

“What?!  Hell no!” 

You pouted again, but this time it didn’t work.  

“No.  That’s dumb.” 

“Fine, I guess you’re not seeing it then!” you said, extending your arm with your phone in hand so that it was out of his reach.

Seems you miscalculated, because in an instant he reached over and almost grabbed it.  

“Fuck off!” you cried as he jumped for the phone again, and you ducked onto the sofa behind you to avoid him.  George hopped next to you and finally managed to grab it successfully, waving it in your face tauntingly.  

He smiled victoriously, finally getting a look at the picture.  

“I am not posting this,” he said.  The puppy had now leaped on top of him, licking his face to see what all the commotion was.  

Defeated, you sighed, “Fine.  Coward.”   You sent him the photo anyway.  

“Wanna wait for tea upstairs?” he asked, giving you a smirk to show that he was ignoring your last comment.  He reached over next to you to grab his phone.. 

“Sure,” you answered.  

Just as you sat upright, the front door clicked open across from you. 

The kitten next to you reacted before you did, hopping gracefully off of the sofa and meowing towards the door.  

A man stepped into the door, looked at George and then you, then back to George, back to you, and finally rested on George.

“Hi dad,” George said, standing a bit straighter and shoving his hands in his pockets.  He glanced at you, following his dad’s gaze.  “This is my… friend.” 

“Girlfriend,” George’s mum corrected, entering from the kitchen with a tray of gingerbread.  You immediately flushed, trying to look as put-together as possible (which was impossible since this was your first time meeting your boyfriend’s dad and it was a complete surprise).  

George’s dad gruffed, and you could see in his jawline the facial structure that he’d passed down to George.  His hair was slightly more chocolatey and he had neatly trimmed facial hair that framed his face nicely.  Perhaps he was a portrait of what George might look like if he was older, and worked a strenuous nine-to-five job at the office. 

The gray kitten circled around his fathers ankles, and his expression broke a bit as he knelt down to stroke its back.  His hands were the same as George’s- intuitive, intelligent looking somehow.  

He stood back up, clearing his throat.  

“Nice to meet you,” George’s father finally said, accepting a cookie from his wife’s delicious-smelling tray. 

…

Mellow conversation always made time move exponentially slowly, so you were endlessly thankful after George finally said something like “we gotta go, uh, work on a video” to cut the tea and cookies short with his parents.  

You followed him, scurrying up the steps as his puppy followed you guys closely behind.  George shut the door briskly, plopping down on his bed.  

Right as you opened your mouth to speak he said, “Don’t wanna talk about it.”  Guess you wouldn’t talk about it, then.  Not that you were all that curious as to his relationship with his dad, it could wait until he was comfortable enough to tell you.  Or if he didn’t that was fine too. 

You laid down on the bed next to him, turning your face to bump his ear with your nose.  He turned to you, giving you an actually happy, if a bit tired smile.  

In return you gave him the biggest smile you could muster to make up for it, scrunching up your nose and making a kissy face.  Your arms naturally wove around each other, you didn’t even have to think about it.  Not with warmth of his skin and gingerbread-scented breath that swept you away in an intoxicating bliss. 

After a minute of staring into sparkling eyes with the puppy nipping at your ankles, a discord notification rang.  Then another.  And another.  

George shuffled and slipped his phone out of his pocket.  

“Dream, and Quackity,” he said.  You cocked your head questioningly. 

“Karl wants to stream with us,” he explained and cocked your head further, asking if he wanted to join silently.

“I dunno.  I guess so, I sort of owe ‘em.” 

“Should I leave?” you asked flatly as he rolled out of bed and you sat up.

“Yeah, leave.  Bye!” 

You slapped his arm, and he laughed.  “Just hang out here,” he said, leaning over the desk to get some stuff ready.  Lazily you wandered over to him and hugged him from behind.  You rested your chin on the back of his neck, feeling goosebumps rise on skin as you breathed out.  Mindlessly your fingers played with the hem of his thin white t-shirt. 

“What’s he streaming?” you hummed.  You tried to match his sleepy tone, knowing that his sleep schedule was more fucked than usual after (relatively) regular streams the last week.  

“Jackbox, it’s like this game where-”

“I know what it is,” you smiled, “I’ve watched your streams.”

His neck heated up a little.  “Right.” 

George rolled his chair over and took a seat, slipping on his headphones whilst responding to a mile long series of pings from discord.  “Jeez, these guys are so desperate,” he scoffed. 

“Are you sure I can stay?” you asked softly, feeling like it sounded a bit too self-pitying so you added, “I might get in the way of your dick jokes.” 

George chuckled, probably to hide the slight redness that you could see running to his ears.  

“Or pretending to be gay for dream,” you said and giggled uncontrollably at your own joke, gripping the back of his chair for balance.  

Although, George didn’t really laugh back, just sort of sighed.  For a second, he was silent, and then he peered back at you with a weird expression.  

Hesitantly, he began, “How, erm, how often do you, like, watch my streams and stuff?” 

Your mouth opened a bit, and you could sense the uncomfortableness between you shaking you to your core.  You were about to answer when his eyes darted back to his second screen with discord on it.  

“Wait, one sec,” he said, and you let go of the top of the chair and your arms just hung awkwardly at your side.  He’s never seemed weirded out by me watching his streams before… then again, have I ever brought it up?

Did I do something wrong?

Your thoughts were thwarted by George suddenly greeting his friends, and shallow yells that you could hear from his headset.  

“Sorry!  Sorry, my- fuck.”  He looked back at you hesitantly, and you just gave him a blank stare not knowing what he was looking at you for.  George continued, “My, erm, my girlfriend’s here- shut it, Qua- oh shut the fuck up Sapnap you’ve met- ok look, shut up, actually, she’s like literally right next to me.” 

You were pretty overwhelmed with all the information you were getting- by the sounds of things his friends were just being immature (as friends are) about your existence.  But where you fit into that, you weren’t sure.  

“No, I’m not gonna let her play on fucking stream!  Are you crazy?!” he said, and you felt a pang.  Not because you were offended, but because he was right.  It was a dangerous game you were playing.  Just one peep in the background of his audio when Karl was live, and everything would go to hell.  

But he probably caught a glimpse of your minorly crestfallen expression because he extended a hand, the tips of his fingers first reaching your lower arm and then tracing down to your wrist.  

He tugged slightly, leading you to the front of his chair, responding to the conversation all whilst admiring you with tender eyes.  You blushed deeply, all the anxieties of before forgotten.  He smiled softly, gaze saying a hundred words of praise that you ate up like candy.  

He thought you were the most beautiful thing in the world, all dolled up in front of him and flustered from his shameless adoration.

Chapter Text

George thought you were the most beautiful thing in the world, all dolled up in front of him and flustered from his shameless adoration. 

With no effort but his other hand on your waist he spun you around.  He scooted back on the chair against its back, parting his legs to create space.  With those soft hands George pulled you down to sit on the chair between his legs. 

You sure as hell were glad he couldn’t see your bright red face as his thighs adjusted so that you were comfortable, and his arms lifted off you to rest on his keyboard and mouse.  You were getting whiplash from the sudden change in his character, the second he started talking to his friends.  

From your seat on his lap his voice rang in your ears.  You were close enough to hear his friend's voices through George’s headphones.  It took you a while to feel comfy with his voice in your ear talking to his buddies, but you eventually learned how to distinguish their voices. 

What the hell is happening?!  

Your panic was cut short by Dream’s voice through the headset.  

“Guys he’s literally been simping over her, like, the last four months or something,” he said, and your blush deepend.  He was talking about you.  You spotted George’s grip on his mouse tense, and you nudged him gently.  

“Shut up,” George mumbled.  You could hear his smile.  His newly softened tone said more than he knew, and you felt yourself sinking gently into his chest.  

“Oh yeah, that’s the girl who’s picture-” 

“Okay, can we stop talking about this?  Please?  Karl, is your stream ready?” George said hastily, and you chuckled.  You wondered if they could hear you, through the mic that hung above the two of you loomingly. 

Apparently not, because Karl responded with a cheery, “Yep, just tweeting it out!  I’m gonna deafen to intro, kay?” 

BadBoyHalo beat George to a response.  “Sure, we’ll tease George about his girlfriend meanwhile!” he said in a sing-song voice.  Even though you could barely hear him and his comment served only to embarrass George, you decided you liked him.  Maybe it was directly because of the latter.  

You gave George a questioning look.  What was he thinking sitting you down on his lap, so that you could hear his friends?  Was it some kind of sick tease, being able to feel his breath on your neck but his attention directed at someone else. 

What was going on in that pretty head of his?

“Wait did you guys hear about that thing with MCC?  Apparently-” 

“Stop tryna change the subject, Dream,” Sapnap scoffed, “Especially after I clowned you in coins that game.”

“Sorry what?  Couldn’t hear you, over my second place in parkour tag,” Dream shot back. 

“Say that to my fucking battle box-” 

“Language!”  Bad interrupted. 

“And besides,” Sapnap continued, “At least none of us did as bad as George.”
“What?!” George yelled. 

The others laughed, Sapnap saying, “His girlfriend was prolly sucking his dick and he got distracted,” somewhere in the mix. 

George eyed you and shook his head, signaling to pretend you hadn’t heard it.  Too late- you were already bright red, suddenly very aware of the lack of space between the two of you.  

Your teeth found your bottom lip as Quackity decided not to let you ignore it.  “Bet she gives some pretty good head then, cus you were playing like shit!” 

“Says you, Quackity of all people!”  You admired how he sounded barely phased, his face wasn’t even red at all.  Maybe you should’ve felt offended or objectified, but somehow didn’t.  Watching their streams gave you at least a little insight into how humor bounced off of this group, and nothing really stuck with any kind of seriousness.  The weight in your stomach dissolved, and your back found itself nuzzling closer to George. 

The way that he could endure the most vulgar jokes without so much as a flinch, yet immediately glowed and pinkened and such a small movement from you.  It made you feel powerful, but also so desperately loved that it, at times, made you want to cry. 

“Says your mom, dumbass!”  Okay, now you wanted to cry but for a very different reason.  

“How-” 

George was cut short by Karl’s dumb screaming as he undeafened the discord call, saying “I’m live I’m live!!” 

“Oh hi chat, we were just talking about George’s-” Quackity started, and Geroge coughed sharply.

Looks like his friend got the message because he continued, “uh, George’s huge dick.” 

“It was mostly Dream,” Sapnap added. 

“What?!  Why me?” 

You stifled a laugh, looking up at George who was already looking down at you with a relieved, and perhaps a bit dangerous glint in his eye.

Your chin tilted up and he gave your sides a quick squeeze with his arms on either side.  You scrunched up your face, wishing you could return the same mischievous expression that he wore- if only you knew what the fuck he was thinking.  

Obviously he was going to stream Jackbox with you on his lap, but why?  He couldn’t tell his friends now, so to whose benefit was this?  Yours? 

Was he doing this to mess with you? 

To play with you?

Well, one thing was sure: you couldn’t move now.  The best you could do was tug on his sleeve, but even then there was no guarantee he’d let you move.  Just one cough, or loose giggle, and your existence would be leaked to 500,000 people.  More people than you’d probably interacted with in your life.  

Great. 

…

For the most part, Quiplash dwindled on a bit like the growing snowstorm outside: it picked up a couple of times but for the most part stayed at a consistent level of humor and energy.  The group had thankfully dropped the subject of “George’s girlfriend” which of course you were very thankful for.  That didn’t mean that they didn’t take every discreet opportunity to allude to it though. 

Like, for example, when the question was “Easiest way to make a gamer mad” and someone (Sapnap) answered, “Give him head during MCC”.  You were bright red after that one, but at least it wasn’t as bad as when Karl called Dream George’s side hoe, and Quackity explained in excruciating detail to Bad what a side hoe was. 

You thought that George at least was going to be tame, but he ended up putting “sex” as two of the answers and “uwu cuddles” as another.  You glared back at him as he intentionally nuzzled into you after putting that second one, smacking him back as silently as you could whilst holding in your laughter.  

Oh yeah, and not even to mention the time when he looked you dead in the eyes, hand on your thigh as he said the line in rap battle, “My rhymes are so good cus I am genius, You won’t be talking after seeing my penis!” 

Yeah, safe to say he had to put a hand over your mouth to keep you from losing your shit.  

You didn’t think about anything else after that line; not the game, not his friends, not the stream.  Nothing but the heat that was steadily but surely forming between your legs, and although you might’ve been imagining it the slight pressure that began building where your back met where George had you clasped between his thighs. 

Finally during like the fifth game you leaned your head completely back to rest on his shoulder.   His voice was getting sleepier and more slurred, and as his pitch dropped the vibrations resonated just in the right spot.  Their on-going meme about George having to go to sleep continued with him bringing it up every five minutes.  

Even though you were ninety percent sure that “going to sleep” didn’t actually mean what it did.  

His right hand was freed since the game didn’t require the use of typing, and it eventually rested on your upper arm.  Your breathing became calmer and eyelids became heavier.  His fingertips were so light that you didn’t even notice him beginning to stroke your skin, softly and rhythmically.  It was an impossible task to try and keep your eyes awake whilst he lulled you into subtle ostinato.  

You wanted to whisper for him to leave so badly, but the microphone in your faces forbade it.  Besides, he was having fun, despite his obviously exhausted laughter. 

Defeated, you just slumped against George’s chest and the arms of the chair and allowed your eyes to fall shut.  

You might’ve drifted off a bit, or maybe not, because by the time you came to George as well as all the others in the call were saying bye and Karl was thanking subs.  With a click of finality George hit the “leave call” button, and reclined with a huge sigh.  

“Arghh,” he groaned, trying as best he could to free his arms from under you while not disturbing your supposed slumber.  Once they were free he reached them above his head, stretching and yawning simultaneously.  

You tugged on his sleeve gently to alert him that you were awake, and he peered down at you through sleepy yet smiling eyes.  

“You can talk now,” he murmured. 

“Okay.” you sighed, then exclaimed loudly, “What the fuck was that?!”

George giggled.  “What do you mean?” 

You glared at him.  “Was that some kind of sick entertainment for you?  To see me… to see me all flustered and squirmish and not being able to say anything?

He hesitated for a moment.  His tired eyes paired with that cheeky smirk made your cheeks hurt with frustration.  

“Yeah.” 

Chapter Text

It was pretty late.  Well, for your sleep schedule that is.  The sun was crested just above the treeline in the sky, marking an embarrassing hour for you to just be waking up at.  

But it was Christmas, so that didn’t matter.  

George told you to swing by a little later than usual since his parents were having some friends over in the morning, and that you probably didn’t want to meet them.  You obliged, spending the time from when you woke up to when you left the house pouring over your clothes for a festive cute outfit.  

Eventually you settled for something like a sweater dress, that you remembered shopping for and reluctantly buying after your friend convinced you it “showed off your curves”.  But it was warm enough and snuggly enough and would match your boots, and that’s what mattered, right?

A snack and some coffee on the way and you were off, sludging your boots reluctantly into the basically melted snow.  It left puddles of slushy water that just barely reached your socks as you continued walking, annoying you endlessly.  

Luckily, now that you knew the way by heart it only took a couple of minutes to arrive at George’s doorstep.  

The familiar doorbell rang and a moment later George’s mum appeared at the door, as usual, asking you standard cosy questions as you followed her obligatorily into the kitchen.  

“I was almost done with the tea, why don’t you bring some up for George?” she said, pouring a mug for him.  

“Oh, sure,” you said kindly, knowing of course that George didn’t like tea.  Still, who were you to refuse to bring her son a beverage?  You grasped the two steaming cups, one for you and one for him, and made your way gently upstairs.  

He didn’t know you were coming, but that didn’t matter- you were sure he’d be happy to see you. 

Right?

Meticulously and carefully you managed to get the door to his bedroom open without spilling a drop of tea.  He was turned around, and you couldn’t hear what he was listening to meaning he probably had headphones in.  

You heard him grunt in agreement, meaning he was talking to someone, probably Sapnap and Dream.  You entered the room and immediately, startling you, George swung around.  You didn’t even need to ask why as you saw what was on his computer screen. 

You almost dropped the mugs of tea, somehow managing to drop them off at his bedside table before just standing there dumbfounded.  

George looked equally in shock, plus incredibly pale, terrified and embarrassed.  

Behind him, on his gigantic double monitors, was Belle Delphine’s porn video.  

“Okay, I swear it’s not what it fucking looks like-” 

Your mouth was dropped open comically, as he hastily explained himself and literally ripped off his headphones and slammed all of his fingers on the keyboard to close the tab.  

“This looks so fucking bad, look I know but it’s-”

You couldn’t help it- you burst out into laughter.  

Pure, genuine, perhaps a bit rowdy laugher.  

George just stared at you, his turn to be completely dumbfounded, unsure of what to say with his mouth slowly falling open.  

Light tears of laughter formed in your eyes and your cheeks became red enough to match his embarrassment.  You had to lean an arm on the bed to just stay upright.  

“Are you… okay?” George asked, still embarrassed as fuck but incredibly taken aback. 

“Yeah!” you managed, still cackling until your sides hurt.  “Yeah, yeah, yeah I’m good!” 

George looked between you and the now black computer screen, his motions in slow motion and frozen with terror.  As though you were pretending to not be mad, and at any moment you’d absolutely murder him for watching porn.  Not only on Christmas day, but with his friends, on a giant screen, at the same time that you’d told him you were coming over.  

“I… obviously I thought you were gonna come later,” he sighed, probably letting out his first breath since you’d entered the room.  

“Well, surprise!” you said, still laughing, your voice hoarse.  

Then, inexplicably, your voice deepened a bit.  You managed to calm yourself down, and your eyes lowered.  They became husky, mysterious, and you felt a presence take the front wheel that you hadn’t let happen in a long time. 

You didn't realize how much you’d craved its presence until now.  

Slowly, taking your time, you made your way to the chair in which George sat terrified and frozen.  He was confused, more so now than before, but also fearful in some way.  He didn’t know what was happening.  

But you did.  You made your way over, and gripped the arms of his chair from the front.  Slowly, sensually, seductively, you leaned over him so that your face was but a couple of inches from his.  Your breath was level with his, and you locked his eyes that were swimming with confusion.  

And then, one leg at a time, you brought your knees to the sides of his chair so that you were sitting on his lap, as though trapping him.  All the while bringing your face farther from his. 

And then he looked at you again, but with the same feeling as you.  Desire.  Carnal desire. 

He devoured your lips with his eyes, hungry and longing.  

But he knew he couldn’t have them.  Not yet, at least.  Not unless you let him.  

Your eyes glittered with playfulness, and you scoffed the tiniest bit.  You let your tongue swipe over your lips gently, wetting them and making them glisten with saliva.  

Inside, your heart was pounding like crazy.  But somehow the coolness of his air conditioning was enough to keep you from overheating. 

Your lips twisted into a smile, seeing that his eyes hadn’t parted from them.  

“I think I get it, now,” you said.  Softly enough for him to not mistakenly take it as an accusation.  

“What?” 

“I got it all wrong.  I thought you were scared of this kind of stuff.” 

“Yeah?” George was now letting his eyes roam all up and down your body, and you couldn’t get enough of it.  This sultry voice that he’d responded in sent shivers down your back, and was enough for you to want to roll your eyes back.  “Scared of what?” 

“You know,” you leaned forward, just close enough to breathe onto the side of his neck.  

Porn.  Sex.  Tension.  

“This.”  You planted a warm, sloppy kiss on his skin, and were satisfied when a soft moan left his lips.  

“And,” he said breathily, as you pulled back and he rolled his palms on your hips, “What about you?” 

You were taken aback, and he suddenly pressed a hand to your lower back making your breath hitch.  It slid gently under your sweater, palming soft skin with his delicate hands.  

“Me?” You said huskily.  His other hand traced up to your jawline, slowly undoing you as he wrapped a strand of your hair around his finger and twirled it gently.  At the same pace, you felt your hips moderately move with and against one another.  Heat building in a soft, gentle wave.  

“I’m not,” you breathed, feeling your control slowly slip away.  Although, you didn’t mind.  On the contrary, you liked it more than you’d admit.  

“Yeah?” George responded, once again hushed.  Then the sexiest words you’d ever heard came out of his mouth, and nothing was within your control after that.  Your hands gripped on his shoulders and your thighs tightened around his waist.  Warmth trailed from your spine to your limbs in an endless trail of fire and magic and arousal.  

Discarded headphones and a blackened screen, hiding who knows how many other secrets.  

Secrets you wanted to explore.  

To find. 

To exploit.  

All released, with two syllables uttered in silent eroticicm.  

“Prove it.” 

Your fingers drew first to the soft collar of his crewneck.  With feather light touches the tips of your fingers played with its hem, dipping down to his skin.  As he inhaled a cold breath his collarbone became more prominent.  You trace the bone with your nail.  When he finally exhaled you released your touch from his skin.  

You pressed them to your own, right above where the neckline of your top ended.  With equally delicate actions you mimicked your previous movements, but on yourself.  

All the while George’s gaze was locked on you, becoming ever so slightly more sultry.  Deeper.  Heavier.  And most definitely more lustful. 

By the time your movements slowed enough to come to a stop and you met his eyes, they were akin to those of a wild animal.  It terrified and aroused you how much desire swam in his amber irises. 

You could tell it was taking all of his strength to restrain himself from you.  But he managed, and as a reward you decided not to keep him waiting. 

After all, you wanted this just as much as him. 

Your lips were sweet with temptation.  Your teeth pressed on them just hard enough to make your bottom lip swell pink and release the nervousness hidden just under the surface.  

George licked up the sight of your mouth insatiably without so much as a falter.  Goosebumps consequently rose up your arms and tightened your legs grip on his waist.  Your fingers had found their way to the bottom hem of your shirt, playing with the fabric between your forefinger and thumb.

Inhaling shakily before you could hesitate, you gripped the fabric and pulled it up. 

You collected it in a ring around your chest, exposing the skin of your stomach all the way up to where your bra covered.  

Chills ran across flesh that hadn’t been on display for another in a while.  Your fingers were trembling but you held the fabric up, collecting it into a bunch at the front so that the dips of your chest and your cleavage were in sight. 

And George devoured the sight.  So much so that it brought a blush collecting at the back of your neck up to your cheeks and an embarrassed yet flattered smile spread across your face.  It felt so lovely to be admired, to be able to balance moments of obscene eroticism and tender affection with just a few moments between. 

He probably sensed you melting under his stare, and cautiously reached out a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.  That was enough motivation for you to lift your shirt up over your head, crossed arms uncrossing as you pulled it over your head and discarded it on the carpet beside the chair. 

Now it was like every last bit of self control in George’s veins dissipated.  His eyes bore into you hungrily and you leaned forward, arching your back as you pressed into him.  You aimed to kiss his neck but he beat you to it.  Lips that were chapped from speaking attached themselves greedily to just the right spot on your skin.  

It took all your restraint to stifle the sounds you wanted to make down to just a breathy exhale.  The task only became more difficult as he trailed kisses up, up, up to meet your jawline and the back of your ear. 

You were so encased in euphoria that whimper escaped your parted lips uncontrollably as he nibbled on your earlobe.  All the while his hands were roaming and wandering, palms flat on bare skin that belonged to your stomach and back and hips.  Fingers messaged your skin so wonderfully that you felt like putty in his hands.  

As George’s kisses moved up, so did his hands.  His lips met your cheeks and then your nose and then finally your mouth.  You savored his taste as best you could, whilst the movements of his fingers periodically made your mouth part instinctively.  Your pleased sighs in his ears only made him knead your thighs harder.  You couldn’t resist grinding against him, melding into the shape of his body as he brought you closer, never breaking the kiss.  

Then, delicately he traced a hand up from your thigh, to the center line of your stomach and finally to where fabric met skin.  

His touch was so light that you barely felt it, but that was all it took for you to be covered in goosebumps.  You threw your head back breaking the kiss and he took the opportunity to kiss the fragile skin of your neck.  But his hand had stopped where it landed, and as your eye-sight cleared enough you brought your gaze back to his.  

It was steadier, this time, and patient.  He was waiting, for you.  

You glanced down to where his hand rested.  It looked so perfect there.  Like he was made to touch you and consume you and treasure you.  

You brought your eyes back to him.  He looked up at you so innocently for what he was about to do, through dark lashes that told you that this was real.  This was your reality.  Right now.  

The moment you nodded, he wasted no time.  He brought his fingers to your back, once again teasing you by starting at the small of your back and walking his fingertips up.  But finally after an excruciating wait they reached the clasp of your bra.  

Just that in itself was enough to send you into a craze of arousal, but you craved more than anything to hear the snap of it unclasping. 

Such a fucking pity, that you didn’t get to hear it that day. 

Bring! 

George ignored it, the notification from his phone.  

Bring!  Bring!  Bring!

“Fuck,” he muttered, still fiddling with the hooks on your bra and slipping his fingers between your skin and fabric.  

Bring!  Bring!  Bring!  Bring!  Bring!

“What the actual fuck,” he said loudly, giving you a sorrowful and reluctant look as his hands parted from your skin and he reached across to the desk to pick up his phone.  “Fucking Dream, what the fuck does he-” 

Then, in the midst of both your annoyance and disappointment, he paled suddenly and his mouth dropped open gently.  “Fuck.” 

“What?” 

He didn’t answer, just swung around the chair and softly pushed your leg up so that you no longer  straddled him, just sat awkwardly on top of him and his chair with one leg between his and the other outside.  

George bent down over his chair quickly to pick up his headphones from where they were discarded, fingers moving faster than you’d ever seen them as he threw them on and frantically turned on his computer.  

With complete sickness spreading over you you realized that discord was still open, and so was the Belle Delphine video, and so was the call.  

You pulled his phone screen down to see the texts, and just as suspected there were, like, a hundred all from Dream.  

“Shit.” 

Mouth hung open slightly, still in disbelief you asked, “What happened?” 

George was completely red, sweat dripping from his forehead and biting his lip ravenously.  

“I… apparently, erm, the discord call was…” 

You could fill in the rest.  

“So they…” your eyes were ridiculously wide now, “They heard…”

“Yeah.” 

“Shit.” 

George rubbed the back of his neck, and chuckled gently.  “Okay, okay wait.  It- it could’ve been worse, right?  Apparently they deafened, like, right after they heard-” 

You held up a hand.  “I can imagine, thanks.” 

George stifled a giggle under your hard glare, until finally you cracked and leaned back into him.  You melted into a hug that was warm, and even though you didn’t end up where you thought you would, it was still alright. 

Oh, and for some reason George decided until you were done with all that to tell you that he’d only been watching Belle Delphine’s porn a) because Sapnap suggested it and b) they were just curious.  He’d been roped into it and already owed them a favor, plus he didn’t check your text apparently.  

So you’d gotten all horny demon on him for no reason- not that you didn’t enjoy it thoroughly.  

To be honest, George wasn’t someone who struck you as someone with a high libido, from the outside at least.  But if his streams indicated anything, it waa that there was a lot more to him than you thought. 

Well, at least you weren’t the one that had to deal with the consequences of sexing-while-on-call.  Good thing, because if you were you’d be pretty fucked.  

Figuratively, this time.

Chapter Text

You didn’t want to wake up the morning after Christmas day.  You laid in your bed like a starfish, unmoving, staring at the white ceiling and wishing it was snow.  The snow had pretty much all melted aside for a light powder dusting last night.  Reluctantly you got up to peer out the window into a blindingly white scene, and sure enough, it was as magical as ever.  

Maybe it wasn’t Christmas, but it sure was festive.  

Yawning, your phone drifted into your hand and you pulled up Instagram.  And right at the top of your feed, under the verified username @georgenotfound, was the picture of him you’d taken the other day.  

That dumb, handsome, effortlessly attractive face that he tried his best to make look ugly.  But it never worked.  He always looked as perfect as he appeared in your dreams. 

You couldn’t believe he’d posted it!  That your hands had been the one to take that picture, that now 500,000 people had seen and liked.  

Half a million, and he still chose you.  

Right on cue, your phone buzzed with a text from George.  

“Hey.”  

“Hey?” you responded.  You scrolled up, seeing that you missed a text from him at 3am- a screenshot of the instagram post.  Below it he’d written “did it, happy?”.  

You smiled, cheeks colored light pink.  

He’d been typing for a while, so you decided to send, “What’s up?” with a little drool face emoji. 

He sent back that surprised blushy face, then sent your address. “It’s this one, right?”

“Tf are u doing?” 

Your fingers started tapping.  Was he fucking coming to your house? 

“Just tell me, idiot”

You sighed.  “Yeah, it is”. 

“Thanks.”

His typing bubble disappeared for a second, and then reappeared when he sent, “Wouldn’t wanna bring these to the wrong house.”  Below his text was a selfie cut off at his neck, with only a grocery bag in view.  You couldn’t see what was in there, only assuming that there were multiple by his wording. 

“Wut?”

He didn’t type anything after that, and you set your phone down frustratedly.  It was probably just, like, leftovers from dinner or something.  You contemplated getting up and getting ready, but your laziness got the better of you and you spent the next ten minutes scrolling through TikTok. 

And then, the doorbell rang. 

Fuck.  You sure as hell didn’t feel like getting up. 

You sent him a quick text, telling him the code to your door.  In a few seconds, you heard the click open and footsteps enter the doorway.  

“Hullo?” he called out, a bit hesitantly.  You heard him slip off his shoes and set down his puffy coat somewhere. 

“I’m in here!” you called from bed.  It probably would’ve been the nice thing to do to get up and greet him.  But after the huge Christmas dinner that George’s parents had treated you too, you were far too sleepy. 

You heard the paper bag rustle loudly before the door swung open.  George wore a giant grin on his face.

“Oh god, what’s in the bag?” you asked, smirking.  That mischievous gleam in his eye terrified you.  He was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt like usual, the bottom of his pants soaked from snow that got into his boots.  George plopped the bag on the ground and kicked off his socks, before scooting over to the bed with the bag in hand.  

You rolled your eyes.  His hair was different, swept back instead of to the side.  He’d definitely shaved this morning- or, well, for him this was the afternoon.  

George laughed, grinning, and dumped out the contents of the bag on your bed.  

“What the hell George!” you exclaimed.  On your bed were at least 20- no, 30- colourful boxes of skittles all in a pile.  “Wh- what the fuck!” 

You were bawling with laughter, as was George.  “They fucking sent them!  I don’t even know why, I-'' he tried to catch his breath through giggles, “I literally just dmed them on twitter!” 

“No way,” you said, grabbing a box and ripping it open.  “Like, actually?!” 

“You’re not gonna believe this,” he continued, accepting a handful of the candy from you and shoving it in his mouth, “But this isn’t even all of it.  There’s more.” 

“What?!” you said through a mouthful of skittles.  The sickening sweetness coated your throat, and you could care less that you hadn’t brushed.  

“They’re all for you,” he chewed.  

You raised an eyebrow.  “Why?” 

George looked down, rubbing his neck with his hand.  “I had to make up for, erm, for yesterday.” 

Your eyebrow raised up further.  

“My mum told me about your plans to go to the park and stuff, it sounded cute,” he continued.  “I feel bad, I sort of... ruined it.  With…” he trailed off. 

That video.  The kissing.  Touching.  Heat.  Skin.  Unfinished stuff. 

“Yeah.”  Silence said a lot.  

Your gaze drifted up from where it was wandering on the bed sheets, to his hands that laid empty next to his feet.  You extended your hands, gently holding his and meeting his eyes.  

“You know,” you said, a small smile forming.  “We could always pick up where we left off.” 

His eyes brightened suddenly.  “Go for a walk and stuff?  Like you wanted to?”

You coughed a little.  Shit, he was thinking about that.  Not, erm, making our and getting undressed.  Right.  

“Yeah!  Yeah,” you said quickly.  His eyes were like a puppy’s, and twice as eager.  Did it occur to him that you were the one that initiated… that whole thing, yesterday? 

It didn’t matter, because he looked too cute getting up and picking up the boxes to deny.  The unfinished stuff could wait. 

He turned back.  “So you forgive me then?” 

You grinned, pouring a handful of skittles into your mouth.  “Hell yeah, but wait.  You have this much power- can you call, like, Apple?  And they’ll send you-” 

“Don’t push it.” 

…

You contemplated changing in front of him, but decided against it.  You were too horny for your own good, you realized, and somehow that mega-sexy George you’d caught a glimpse of yesterday had completely disappeared.  

It was fine though, since in his place was the George who eagerly showed you his gaming setup, or followed you into a bookstore on your first date.  You liked that George just as much, if you said so yourself.  He had that kind of sparkliness that only came out on streams with his friends. 

“Oh yeah, didn’t the manhunt come out yesterday?” you asked whilst changing behind the closed door of your bathroom.  

George coughed, and you heard some slight choking noises.  

“George?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine,” he said, and you realized he’d choked on skittles from laughing suddenly.  “Actually, funny thing… so, like, they needed me to do shit before posting the video, which is why they were, like, blowing me up with messages.”

“Wait, right then?!   While we were…” 

“Yeah.  Anyway, they were pissed, but it’s fine.  It just got delayed like an hour,” he said casually, but you felt guilt form in the pit of your stomach.  

“Shit, I feel bad,” you said, coming out of the bathroom in your outfit.  George grinned at you, and you gave him a twirl.  

“For what?” he answered, shrugging.  “Wasn’t your fault.” 

“Kinda was,” you responded, making your way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen for a snack.  You hadn’t had anything to eat yet, but figured you could stop at a bakery or something later. 

“How?” he asked, ducking to follow you through the doorframe. 

“I kissed you first, didn’t I?”  

You didn’t turn around but could feel George blushing.  “Yeah,” he said sheepishly, “But I was watching the thing!” 

Grabbing a granola bar you smirked at him from a half-turn.  “Yeah?  And why was that?” 

“Cus Dream and Sapnap made me.”  He looked at the floor fake-sad. 

“No,” you grinned, spinning around.  “You wanted to see Belle Delphine’s tits.” 

Walking right past him so that you spoke into his ear, you muttered as though it was a secret from the emptiness of the flat, “...so I showed you mine instead.” 

You took a bite of the bar and headed back to the bedroom to grab your purse. 

…

A pang made you feel kinda bad after that epic line drop, so you decided to behave during your walk.  As soon as you were out the door you wrapped yourself around his arm, just like a girlfriend was supposed to.  You spoke about Minecraft and twitter drama whilst marching past suburban households and ordered a pastry from the closest little bakery.  It was actually the one you used to work at, a month ago before you quit to have more time for school.  Nostalgia flooded you as soon as you entered the warm interior, even though you’d literally been there like a week ago.  But having George on your arm made you think only of your first date, dragging him on a walk not so different from the one you were on.  

“You know,” he murmured once you’d exited, “I’m pretty sure I haven’t gone outside without you for, like, the last year.” 

“How’s that even possible?” you asked, laughing and taking a sip of coffee that George had refused to try.  

“Dunno, I'm a groundhog.”

“What?” 

He shrugged.  “Don’t they, like, stay underground or something.” 

You thought for a second.  “I think?  No, that doesn’t sound right, they prolly come during the day right?  

George laughed.  “I dunno, I’m not good with my groundhog lore.”

You nearly spit out your drink chuckling, taking your gloves off to search up facts about groundhogs.  “I was right!  They’re diurnal .” 

George groaned and rolled his eyes.  

“Okay, okay,” you insisted.  “Then, wait, you’re like worse than a groundhog- you’re like a 24/7 groundhog!  Just peek down for food and water and go back in your cave.” 

“Isn’t there a pokemon like that?  Like, it pokes it’s little head up from the ground- what’s it called?”  George did a little hop. 

“Diglett?” 

“Yeah, that one!” he said.  “I’m a diglet.”

“Human diglet,” you giggled. 

“Okay wait, actually though, if you think about it, it’s kinda crazy,” he said thoughtfully. 

“What is?” 

“My going outside-rate increased, like, 300% since I met you.” 

“Yeah?”  Hm, now that you thought about it, perhaps yours did as well.

George scratched his head.  “Wait, okay, we can calculate this.”

“Hm?” you cocked your head questioningly. 

He ignored you.  “So, like, I prolly went outside once a month before?  Yeah, that sounds about right.  And, like, we sort of meet at least twice a week?” 

“Eh, more like once.  It evens out, with the weeks we don’t.”

“Fine, let’s say 1.5 then.  That’s 6 times a month, so… 500% increase?” 

“Jeez.”  500%... damn.  “You really were a diglet,” you said, smacking his shoulder.  

It wasn’t really that you didn’t go out before meeting George.  But somehow all your memories of going out were the ones with him in it.  He was sort of, like, a beacon, maybe?  Like, whenever you thought about him it attached a sunny happiness to everything around him.  

Like right now!  His little puffs of visible air everytime he breathed out in the frosty weather.  His playful little hopping whenever a puddle came in your path, as if he’d never been outside before.  Whenever you crossed the street a little too eagerly and he held your arm back, so that you didn’t get rammed into oncoming traffic.  Or him finally taking a sip of your coffee after all your begging (forget the part about him spitting it out and wincing at the taste afterwards). 

Fuck, you were so enamored.  If in September you were knee deep, now just the very top of your head was but submerged.  

His nose was so red, after a rudolph-that-turned-into-Callahan joke you bumped your own nose against his.  Close enough to kiss and beaming with glimmering wide eyes, you breathed just light enough to hear, 

“I love you.”

“I…”  George smiled, his eyes adorably aloof with mittens resting on your waist.  “Love you too.”

Chapter Text

Okay, so maybe you reacted a bit stupidly after that.  After George said “I love you”, that is. 

The moment was nice while it lasted.  You beamed from ear to ear, and his shy smile didn’t go away as he reached up a hand to brush a strand of hair away.  

And then, you burst out giggling.  Not, like, cute little giggles that rang like snowbells- no, the ‘dying from laughter omg that was hilarious’ kind of giggles.  

“Let’s go!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air and hopping in place.  George looked terrified.  Being literally in public didn’t help either. 

“You said it!”  Your giggling was hurting your sides now.  “It was that easy!” 

George just stared at you dumbfounded.  “...What?” 

You smiled eagerly.  “You remember that whole thing with Dream?  When he tried to get you to say you love him and you didn’t want to and he kept betting stuff?”

“...Yeah?  Like, back in June?” 

“Yeah!  That means I win, right?  Since you said it with no resistance?”  You were smiling, too much to realize he wasn’t smiling all that much.  

George shuffled his feet, chuckling slightly at the ground awkwardly.  “You watched my videos all the way back then?” he asked, mumbling.

“Huh?” you were taken aback by his question.  “What do you mean?  Like, do I watch your videos?  Yeah.” 

“Oh.” 

You peered at him.  You couldn’t read his expression.  

“George,” you said softly, then repeated a bit louder.  “George, talk to me.” 

He coughed.  His eyes never looked up to meet yours.  “What do you mean?  It’s fine, I’m just an idiot.  I can’t explain-” 

“George?” A young voice from behind made both your heads snap up, to meet a young girl dressed in a bright turquoise coat, with a visible green sweatshirt under.  Next to her was a younger girl, likely in primary school, holding her hand and looking confused yet intrigued.  

“GeorgeNotFound?” the girl repeated, a smile spreading on her face as she recognized George.  “May I have a picture?” 

You’d been too caught off guard to notice George, but as soon as he replied “yeah, of course,” your eyes were locked on his demeanor.  

The way he flushed immediately, tried his best to straighten his posture that had naturally hunched after being made the center of attention.  It was incredible, you thought, how fast he could paint a bright and genuine smile on his face, every detail down to his eyes showing not even a trace of distress.  

The worry lines that had been visible on his face just a moment ago when talking to you were nowhere to be found.  

For the first time since meeting him, you felt a different kind of pang in your stomach.  It cut deeper than anything else before- the feeling of being replaceable.  Of being unnecessary, of being a hindrance.  

Perhaps George would have been better if he’d never met you. 

Maybe you’d created worry lines on his beautiful face that never would’ve been there otherwise.  

Maybe, at this very moment on a different timeline, one where that fateful day at the coffee shop never existed, maybe he’d be smiling without anything hiding behind that perfect smile.  

“Thank you!”  

“No problem, of course!”  

George’s cheeriness almost snapped you out of your worried daze, but it took him giving you a playful shove to do that fully.  

“Hey, you okay?” he said, honestly and genuinely.  So honestly and genuinely that it almost scared away all your doubts of him really caring for you.  

You smiled back weakly, quite reluctant to get back to your conversation from before. 

And, to your fortune, it seemed George felt the same way.  The topic never seemed to arise back into your back and forth, even as you passed hundreds of cars and finally rested on a park bench to sit.  

You nustled your head on his shoulder, and although he stiffened at first, he eventually melted into you.  You couldn’t say you were happy about this newfound tension that was forming between you and George, especially whenever you brought up his streams, but his softness never seemed to go away despite the worry in his eyes.  Maybe that made you feel worse, but at least it kept your guilt at bay.  

To be honest, you didn’t even know what you were supposed to be feeling guilty about.  

…

You spent the night tossing and turning, pondering what could’ve been the source of George’s annoyance at you.  It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out- it was something to do with you watching his content.  Every time you referenced his online persona, he stiffened.  He became guarded, harder to read.  And, most concerningly, frustrated.  

Finally getting tired of your own restlessness, you shrugged off the blankets and shuffled to the kitchen to quench your thirst.  The harsh artificial light of the fridge forced your eyes to adjust.  

Okay, so you’d found the problem.  George didn’t like it when you talked to him about his streams, or videos, or tweets- anything like that.  Alright, fine.  The question now was why.  

Filling the glass halfway with ice and the rest with water, your fingers tapped the glass rapidly.  

Was he embarrassed?  

That was certainly a possibility, you thought.  His online personality was so different from how he was with you, maybe it made him uncomfortable.  

Obviously, you didn’t think of it like that.  All that you saw was a more joking, looser yet equally amazing George on those screens.  But even you could admit that it was very different that who you called your boyfriend. 

Maybe it was something more.  

Was he hiding something? 

That thought lurked in the back of your mind as you took a drink from your glass.  You rested a hand on the countertop, fingers tapping once again.  

Maybe he was trying to protect himself?  Or even protect you?

What if he was scared?  But of what?

Or maybe he just didn’t like you enough to share that part of him with.  

Maybe he felt like he couldn’t be vulnerable enough with you, the same way that he could be with the camera.  With thousands- no, millions of fans.  

The thought brought frustration to your cheeks, not helped by the cold water that flooded your senses.  

You were overthinking this.  Taking a deep breath in, you allowed yourself to forget about George for a moment.  The time on the oven read 1:00 in the morning.  With a sigh, you realized there was no way you could calm down enough to fall asleep without resolving this.  

There was something that you lacked- a different perspective.  You knew why you couldn’t fully understand George, and that was because of the nature of his job.  There weren’t many people out there that shared a majority of their lives with a fanbase that large, and especially not ones that you knew.  

Regardless, who did you know that could possibly know George well enough to offer you advice, and be awake at this hour?

Oh, duh.  You smacked your forehead at how long it took for you to think of it. 

Phone flashlight in hand and taking care to not trip over anything in the dark, you made your way back to the bedroom As soon as you carefully set your glass down on the bedside table, you rung up Dream.  

“Hello?” 

“Um, hi.  Dream?”

“Oh!  Hi!”  Damn, that cheery American accent could cheer anyone up.  Immediately you felt one hundred times better.  “What’s up?” 

“Oh, it's nothing important,” you explained, “If you have something else-” 

“Hah, trust me, Sapnap’s been trying to get me to play him at chess for the last half-an-hour.  Now I finally have a good excuse.”  

You giggled, feeling lighter already.  “It’s nothing really, I just… I had some questions.  Or, erm, I guess one question?  I dunno-” 

“About George?”  

You sighed, relieved.  Dream was incredibly easy to talk to. “Yeah.”

“Well, then I’m your guy.  I’m surprised you didn’t ask for advice sooner, honestly- George is a, well, interesting guy.  I spend most of my life with him, so I would know.”

You chuckled, knowing just how true that was.  

“What’s on your mind?” Dream asked, putting you at ease.  You reclined against the head of your bed and told him.  

“I just don’t know what I’m doing wrong.  I know I was probably being an idiot, an annoying, loud, obnoxious-” 

“Hey!  Don’t beat yourself up, you’re not in the wrong here,” Dream said, after listening intently to your venting.  You’d pretty much told him everything- even unintentionally leaking some stuff regarding the Belle Delphine situation.  He was just so ridiculously mellow that words just started vomiting out.  Gross analogy, but the most accurate.

“I understand what you’re saying.  And I also understand what’s going through George’s head, to some extent.  Being a YouTuber… it’s crazy, is honestly the best way I can put it.  You’re being watched by so many people, and the terrifying thing is it doesn’t even feel like it.  You get so comfortable with numbers like a million, ten million- it doesn’t even feel like anything anymore.”  

You recalled George saying something similar.  How people start to disappear after a while, and how all you’re left with is a number that doesn’t really mean much. 

“And George, well George…” Dream continued, “is a very private person.  You probably know that by now.  But, it goes a lot deeper than just hiding stuff from his fans, I guess.  Any normal streamer does that.  But George, he literally barely goes outside, if ever.  I mean, I’m not one to talk- but I think that the first time he told me he voluntarily went outside, was because of you.” 

“Oh,” you said, cheeks heating as you curled up into a ball.  

“Anyway, George doesn’t really… meet fans.  Or interact with them, at least.  Like, I don’t either, but I guess I have my family that watch my videos, and I get letters and dms and stuff.  George doesn’t really do that- not because he doesn’t want to, but because he’s scared.”

“Scared… scared of what?” you asked.  

“Shit, he’s gonna kill me for this,” Dream chuckled, then continued.  “George is scared of having to face his audience, having to see them as real, human people with complicated and amazing and unique lives.  Inside he knows that every one of those million viewers is a person, but it’s literally mentally impossible to comprehend that on, like, a social level.  The fact that behind every one of those views is a person with their own personalities and stuff… it terrifies even me, you know?” 

You hummed reassuringly.  In truth, you didn’t really know.  You probably could never know, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t empathize.  

“So, in other words, he’s attaching me to all of his fans being their own person, all watching him?”

“Yeah, sort of.”  Dream paused, coughing and sipping some water.  “I mean, okay.  It’s not just that he doesn’t like that you watch his videos and stuff, it’s just that… he has a certain level of, like, realness that he hides from everyone.  Everyone, like, his audience online.  What’s the word?  It’s like he can’t be…” 

“Vulnerable?” you suggested.  

“Yeah!  Vulnerable.”

“So what you’re saying is, he can’t be as vulnerable with me as he can with his audience, and he doesn’t want me to see that?”

“No,” Dream explained.  “In fact, you’ve got it reversed.  He’s scared that you’re going to think of him as someone that fakes it all the time, when really, he’s just that way online to protect himself.  I only learned that a couple months after we started talking, back when we first met.  That’s how good he is at guarding himself, he only lowers his guard when he knows he can trust you.”

“But how do you know he trusts me?” 

Dream chuckled lightly, a quiet sound but one that made you feel as though wrapped in the warmest hug.  “Oh, trust me.  If I know one thing for sure, it’s that he cares about you more than I’ve seen him care about anything.  And believe me, that’s no easy feat.  George isn’t someone that gets… emotional, or puts a lot of trust in any one thing.  He’s one of the most practical people I know, and don’t get me wrong, I admire that a lot.  But it also means that whenever he cares about something a whole lot, you can fucking tell.” 

You didn’t even notice but your cheeks had become damp, and your knees were pulled into your chest so tightly that you might’ve stopped breathing.  

“From that first goddamn day that he met you, I could tell.  Sapnap could too- the way he got all self-conscious and giddy, it was disgusting.  But also really cute.”

You sniffled, laughing.  “What else did he do?” 

Somehow, through the phone, you could hear Dream smile.  “Oh god, he told us literally every. Single.  Detail about all of your dates, like that one fucking bookstore?  He never got over the fact that I interrupted you two and made him leave.  Literally, I don’t think I’ll ever hear the end of it.”  

You giggled as he continued, “Oh, and the amount of times he blew us off for streams ‘cause he was on call with you- I really should hate you for that, but honestly I can’t.  Won’t stop me from being pissed at George, though,” he laughed, and there was a tinge of reminiscence.  “I get it, though.  I was the lovesick boyfriend for probably a good third of my life… if you really care about someone, you’ll do anything.  Even if it means pushing them away accidentally.”  

Maybe that was a comment on his own love life, but you took it to mean that whatever was going on with George at the moment, it was out of compassion.  

Fuck, maybe you were just as lovesick as you thought you were- and maybe George was moreso than you’d ever thought.  

You might’ve drifted off to sleep after that, asking Dream to give you more girlfriend advice and how to date a streamer and whatnot.  But that honey-like voice just was irresistible to your ears, and before long you were fast asleep. 

...

George’s phone chimed in the quiet melody of keyboard clacking and hushed tiktok videos.  It was the afternoon after your talk with Dream, and you were sprawled out on George’s bed whilst he edited his newest video.  He’d placed you in charge of keeping his phone with you so that he didn’t accidentally get distracted and break his concentration.  

“Who’s it from,” he asked without looking away from the colorful clips spread across his editing software dashboard.  

You tapped his screen to illuminate the message.  “Ponk,” you responded, reading the name attached to a text that said, hey man, you free on new years?

George swirled around his chair, resting his chin on his arm.  “What’d he say?” 

You relayed the information, and then handed him his phone.  Your instinct was to pry, but something about what Dream said George’s privacy halted you.  If it was important, he’d tell you. 

Some silent typing later, and George took in a breath and looked back up at you.  

“Him and some old friends are planning to meet up for New Years,” he explained.  “It sorta used to be a tradition, we go to the Winter Wonderland and fool around and stuff.”  

You smiled, but inside your heart sank the tiniest bit.  You’d anticipated spending New Years with George, but obviously it made sense that he’d want to hang out with friends.  You couldn’t tie him down like that, it’d just be cruel.  

George looked back down, as if having an idea, and typed back.  His phone buzzed with a response from Ponk, and he grinned.  

“You wanna come with us?” 

“Hm?”  Oh, right.  Meeting his friends was probably a good idea, now that you were officially his girlfriend.   The word sent wonderful shivers down your spine. 

“Like, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.  I understand,” George said, and you shook your head quickly.  

“No!  Of course I’ll come,” you responded, and he smiled.  

“Pog.”

Chapter Text

“Yeah, uh, just gimme a second Dream.”  

It was only a couple hours later, but the mood had shifted drastically from when you’d first gotten to his house that day, and even from when George had invited you along with his friends.  It was far into the night by now and the stars were starkly visible now that you’d opened the blinds.  

George had been on a call with Dream for a while now, and you didn’t mind.  You chatted with some of your own friends over call, and even hopped into a game of bedwars with George and Dream for a while.  George managed to finally complete the editing of his video, and it was due to be released tomorrow.  And the day after tomorrow, was New Year's day.  

You looked up as George paused his conversation.  

“It’s nothing,” he said to reassure you, then got up and made his way out of the bedroom door.  You cocked your head in confusion, but just chalked his exit up to some private guy-business.  Nothing that concerned the likes of you. 

“Okay, yeah, thanks man.  I’ll talk to you in a bit,” George’s voice said, getting louder as he returned a couple minutes later.  This time he seemed to be glowing a bit brighter, and he hung up the call and tossed the phone on the bed next to you.  Then he laid down lazily down beside where you rested, and played with strands of your hair that stuck static-coated to the sheets.  

“Whatcha doin?” you mused after a while of him doing something with your hair. 

“Lemme take a picture- don’t move!”  You froze in place, and with great difficulty stifled a giggle.  After the click of his camera he shoved the phone screen in his face.  

Somehow in your hair he’d written your initials with a plus sign in the middle, visible in the white of the bed sheet that appeared where he’d pushed hair away.  You grinned, now even more frozen as to not obstruct the stupid yet incredibly charming gesture.  

“You’re so cute,” you giggled.  George chuckled, fixing up the initials to look even better.  Your cheeks were warm as could be and you felt the best kind of flutters whenever he tenderly pulled on a strand.  

It was such a gentle gesture, that somehow put every and all kinds of more intense displays of romance to shame.  So wholesome that it made the prospect of having sex seem unexciting, for how could it possibly compare to the level of love you felt right now, as George idiotically played with your hair. 
Somehow the idea of “love languages” had become somewhat of a topic of interest for those that dwelled on twitter, and you weren’t ignorant to analyses of George in particular over the internet.  It always made you chuckle first, then ponder, then blush, and then finally melt whenever you read one of those threads on “GeorgeNotFound showing his love language” or “George’s love language is ____ because…”.  

But for you, or at least to you, George’s true way of showing love rested in the smallest, most insignificant moments.  Him glancing up every so often to make sure you were still there whilst he played Minecraft, or him squishing himself just a little too much to the side of the couch so that you had more room.  Him telling you, every hour, that all you had to say the word and he’d make you tea or get you water.  Playing with your hair to relax the fingers that had been non-stop editing and gaming for the last six hours, and downloading an entire star-tracker app to label the stars visible out of the window when you’d shown the slightest interest in the beauty of the sky.  

“Hey, according to this thing that’s Venus,” he’d said, frowning at the star-tracker app’s apparently unfriendly user-interface.  

“Really?  Which?” you said sitting upright as he rolled his chair over to be next to the bed.  He pointed with his finger and you took the opportunity to latch onto his forearm.  

“And that’s Jupiter,” he explained as he pointed beside the shining planet to another duller one.  

You’d switched off the lights to better see the stars.  All that kept you from being enveloped in an endless void of stars, were the dimmed keyboard’s light and the lava lamp that rested on George’s bedside table.  The two planets seemed as though they danced, romantic and brilliant. 

You hummed, resting your chin on his shoulder.  “You know, in Roman Mythology,” you mused, “Jupiter and Venus are married I think.  I think Venus is named Aphrodite… Jupiter is Zeus… no wait that isn’t right.  Who’s Zeus married to?”   

“Hera?”  George helped.  “I think so at least.” 

You frowned.  “Alright, forget what I said.  Who did Aphrodite marry?” 

George shrugged, but you caught a little smile. 

You know, don’t you.  “You know, don’t you,” you teased, and he sighed.  You could barely read his expression but could sense embarrassment from a mile away.

“Hephestus, the armor guy I think.”  You grinned as he responded, watching as he let his expression drift into a bit of reminiscing wonder as it latched onto the sky.  “I used to love this sort of, like, myths and stuff.  Dream filled my head with it too, from that Percy Jackson series he read.” 

He paused for a moment, eyes darting back to you as if awaiting permission.  You must’ve poured enough admiration into your gaze because he chuckled quietly, and continued. 

“Okay, fine.  So, obviously Aphrodite is, like, the goddess of love and stuff.  So, like, everyone on Olympus- the place where all the gods live- was simping for her and everything...”

He went on to tell the story of how Zeus assigned Hephestus, the ugliest of the gods, to be her husband so that the rest of them wouldn’t, quote, “kill each other to death”.  He made a bunch of Minecraft and MCC references that went over your head, but by the time he got to the part about her having an affair with Ares his demeanor had changed.  He was telling the story as though it were his own tale, doing impressions of Hephestus and Aphrodite and most comically Ares.  His left arm had at some point wrapped around your shoulder and with his free hand he painted images and wrote poems.  

You were so entranced that you barely had a moment to consider what a wonderful storyteller George was, when he tried.  He allowed himself to feel vulnerable when over-acting and somewhere in your heart, you knew that you’d found a different part of him that’d been hidden.  A George that was exciting and entrancing, and ridiculous and passionate, and funny.  Really, genuinely funny.  

“So yeah, I’m pretty sure there’s some other story about Ares and Aphrodite fucking again, but that’s as much as I know,” George finished.  

You clapped dramatically, and he grinned sheepishly as you turned your gaze back to the stars (and planets).  Thoughts welled in your mind, pooling in your stomach.  

“George?” you mumbled softly.  “Aphrodite and Hephestus… that’s kind of like us, isn't it?” 

“Hm?  Damn, alright, that’s a creative way to call me ugly,” George murmured. 

“What?!  No, obviously no!  First of all: you should know by the amount of thirst traps of you that exist that you are not ugly, and second, I meant it switched.  You’re Aphrodite.” 

You couldn’t tell if George looked more offended at that than the idea of being Hephestus.  

“Huh?” he frowned, looking at you and brushing some hair from your face.  

“Okay, what I mean is.  You’re, well, perfect.”  George scoffed, but you rolled your eyes and continued.  “Famous, wealthy, handsome- like, really handsome.  Like, beautiful and really, really, really hot-” 

“I get it,” George laughed.  “Thanks for fanning my ego, but you’re being stupid.” 

“I’m serious!” you cried.  “You have- how many subs are you at?  Like five million?”  George nodded tentatively.  “ Five million people that are in love with you.  They watch you do stuff, they listen to you- and out of that five million, at least a hundred thousand are perfect people.  The Areses, the Apollos- even fucking, like, Hermeses.  They’re all beautiful, and talented, and… like you.”  

You took in a breath, realizing you’d been left without any air in your lungs.  You hated to admit to the sting in your eyes that left their brims the slightest bit wet.  

George rested his right hand on your thigh, but didn’t say a word.  

“You could have anyone, George,” you said, looking up into his big, sparkling, glassy beautiful eyes.  “ Anyone.   All the gods and goddesses in the world.  So… why?”  

“Why… what?” he said.  He knew the rest of the question, of course, but he wanted to hear it from your voice.  

“Why’d you choose Hephestus?” 

There was a moment, and then you heard a chuckle.  It started off sounding like a scoff, and then a giggle, and then George began full on laughing.  Not, like, the uncontrollable laughter that you’d been plagued with the other day when you walked in on him- but the kind of laughter when someone says something so dumb, that you can’t help cracking up.

But it wasn’t very funny for you at the moment, tear-jerked and emotional.  

“Sorry, sorry,” George said, catching his breath.  “It’s just- and don’t take this the wrong way- but you’re an idiot.” 

“What way am I supposed to take that?!” you shouted.  

George was still snickering, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel your sadness break the tiniest bit. 

“First of all,” he said, lightly mocking your explanatory tone, “Shut up.  I’m not good with this whole, like, reassurance thing, but you’re my girlfriend.  That should say something, right?  Right?” 

You nodded.  Tears were streaming down now, but you felt the corners of your mouth curling into a smile a bit.  

“Second, you’re fucking great.  I’m not good with words, you know that, but I guess I can try.  You know, like, the feeling when you win a bedwars- okay, bad analogy.”  A giggle escaped you, knowing that his brain consisted of very little that wasn’t Minecraft.  Still, he attempted for the second time, “You know when you, erm, hm.  Oh!  Like when you listen to a really , really good song.  Like, the kind of song that hits you in just the right spot.  You’re like ‘damn, I’ve gotta play that again’ and then you end up looping it for the entire night.  That’s how I feel everytime I talk to you, everytime I’m around you.”  

By now you were practically bawling like a baby, and smiling like an idiot.  You’d gotten the hiccups and couldn’t really speak, and certainly couldn’t tell him thank you the million times that you wanted to.  

“And…” he said, once you’d calmed down a bit and he’d nudged you up from the bed and onto his lap, and placed his arms around you and stroked your hair like a kitten whilst cradling you like a baby.  You buried your head in his chest to hide your embarrassingly puffy face.  

“And, and I love you,” he said, with barely parted lips.  Dammit, of course he had to go and make you well up with tears again, right as you’d started to wipe them. 

It must’ve been well past midnight by now.  Tomorrow you’d have to get up earlier to get all ready to meet George’s “irl” friends.  

But right now, that didn’t matter.  None of it mattered, all that mattered was the tiny squeeze that he gave your fingers, his hands damp from wiping your tears; and the light scratch of his freshly shaven chin against your forehead.  

It’d be awful of you to ruin this beautiful moment, but as always, your thoughts betrayed you.  Fantastic.

Yeah, this was definitely better than sex.  Your mind noted.  You audibly groaned in annoyance at your own horniness, but reluctantly gave into the line of thinking. 

Well, okay- perhaps you wouldn’t know unless you tried it with him.  Your gaze flitted back to him, this time tracing his slender shoulders and the soft skin of his neck.  You wouldn’t know unless you tried it, right?  

Yeah.  And you fully intended to find out. 

Chapter Text

The last morning of 2020, you thought, as you rolled out of bed at 3pm.  Maybe next year you’d learn to have a better sleep schedule.  

Not with George in your life, though.  You had to text him 4 times and snap him with the promise of a selfie until he finally got up and snapped you back.  

Getting ready, I’ll meet you when?  You messaged him, under a smirking selfie of yourself cutoff at your nose.  

Ready?? Already??? I just woke up, He snapped back, along with the image of his scrunched up nose.  His eyes were barely visible but they were adorably cross eyed, and bits of his hair stuck to his eyelashes.  Damn, he really did just wake up.  

Just tell me when I’ve gotta be at urs, got it?

Fine, 8.  Now his bed head was fully on display, a basically sheer white tee stretched down carelessly enough to expose just enough of his neck.  

You switched to the iMessage app for the rest of your sleepy conversation, during which he explained that he needed to film something for Dream and edit something for Sapnap during that five hour window.  With a sigh, you realized that for the first time in a while you had most of the day to yourself.  

Suddenly giddy with ideas of what to do, you sprung up from your bed.  And, after pondering for a while, for some inexplicable reason you decided to watch some of George’s twitch vods.  

“Hi guys- speedrun dream!- my god- DREAM- what do you- WHAT?!” Choppy bits of dialogue filled your headphones as you skipped through his latest livestream using the forward arrow key.  His out-of-context yelps made you grin, especially against a backdrop of mob-sounds and his character taking damage.  But you pressed on, eager to get to the “q and a” portion of his video.  

Okay, truth be told, you did have a motive for watching your boyfriend’s stream when you could’ve been doing, well, anything else.  Later last night, hours past sunset when the chirps of crickets made it difficult to sleep, you’d found yourself routinely scrolling through twitter.  Dream was live at the time, but not having the patience to sit and watch his stream you instead observed the “juicy” bits from what his fans tweeted.  And, well, while most of them were just commenting on how hot dream’s speedrunning was.  

Those always got a giggle out of you, just the thought of some 16-year-old sitting in their bedroom, madly infatuated with a mystery someone playing a pixel game.  Although to their credit, after a conversation with man you were more than capable of understanding why they felt something safe, something dependable in Dream.  And for someone like George, well, it was endlessly clear what Dream meant and would always mean to him.

Anyway, twitter.  Scrolling, lots of scrolling.  Until finally a video caught your eye, the caption in all caps “DREAM CONFIRMS GEORGE MOVING TO FLORIDA SOON”.  You rolled your eyes at first.  Obviously it was fake, for god’s sake it wasn’t even close to some of the preposterous captions you’d seen before conjured up to get clicks.  

But something in the back of your mind moved your cursor, in the dead of night well past midnight, to play the video.  

Dream’s “reading donation” voice played back to you, as the text appeared on a screen of what was seemingly him mining coal in a cave.  

“Is George actually going to move in with you and if so, when?” 

You frowned at the question, shrugging it off as a typical intrusive dono.  But then Dream responded.  

“Uh, well I think George mentioned something on his stream the other day, so I guess I can talk about it.  Yeah, that’s the plan, it’s really up to whenever the travel restrictions lift and stuff.  Wanna make sure we’re safe-” The clip ended.  

Huh.  

So George talked about it on his stream?  About moving... to Florida?  What was that about?

And so, the morning after (almost exactly 12 hours later actually), you sifted through George’s speedrunning Minecraft stream from a couple nights ago until he finally started accepting and responding to donos.  

Your fingernails found themselves between your teeth, as mundane question after question was read aloud and answered.  “Can you say happy birthday to Clare?”  “Can you say hi to my brother/” “I’m a huge fan, could you pleaaaaseee say I love you Maddy?”

It took all your might not to audibly groan at the amount of repetition George dealt with but hey, you reminded yourself that he was indeed getting thrown money for playing Minecraft.  

Shaking your head and ignoring the donos, you spaced out for a bit until finally, at the word “Florida” uttered by the text-to-speech voice, you perked up.  

A bit of rewinding and you found yourself listening to the donation.  

“Hey George!  Are you planning to move to Florida after Covid?” 

A simple question really, and one that you were surprised hadn’t come up in any conversation between the two of you before.  

Now that you gave it a thought, future plans rarely entered your daily conversation.

Your thoughts were wrenched from themselves when the dono-voice stopped, and George chuckled.  A breathy, almost casual, unconcerned laugh, just a single note.  A touch of knowingness behind it, just enough to make you uncomfortable.  

Then he spoke: “Yeah, that’s the plan.” 

You paused the stream for a moment, waiting for him to continue with an explanation or something; but no, he made a comment about how “annoying creepers are” and moved onto the next dono.  

Huh. 

Okay, come on.  It’s gotta be him just saying that, right? 

He wouldn’t say something like that so casually, in front of millions of viewers- no, to millions of viewers- if it wasn’t some kind of scheme.  A meme, as he’d say.  

Or by “move” he probably just meant stay for a week or two.  

George, your boyfriend, wasn’t going to move across the ocean from you, especially not before telling you first, right? 

He wouldn’t.  Right?

But the voice in the far back of your head fought you.  

No, no- that was genuine.  George is going to move to Florida,

You rested your head on the back of your bed. 

This isn’t about you, said the voice.  You tried to reel it in, but your mind had latched onto a doubt and it was running with it. 

George has been with his American friends for years, more like lifetimes longer than he’s been with you.  By the sound of things he’s been hinting at the move for a while, at least judging by the calmness of his twitch chat that scrolled past tauntingly on your laptop screen. 

Which means only one thing: that he didn’t tell you for a reason.  And that the reason probably had something to do with why he’d been distant with you lately.  

...

“Hm?  Oh, yeah,” you grunted, in response to what reached your ears as gibberish in George’s voice.  You nodded and shuffled in your seat, smiling politely as you took another full bite of sushi.  

The coolness of fish made your senses tingle back into reality.  The warm fabric of the booth-seat you sat in, next to George whose coat was draped next to you against the wall.  A fresh plate of sushi was artistically placed in front of you, creating a border between you and the smiling person in the seat across.  

“You wouldn’t believe how shocked the three of us mates were when we found out our boy had a girlfriend,” George’s friend, Ponk, said with a laugh.  His comment earned hardy chuckles from the other two friends of George’s, who sat beside Ponk.  

Jacob, or as you’d learned went by Jac, and Oliver.  They both horked down another roll of sushi as George helped himself to another.  

“Wow, real nice man,” George chided, laughing so lightly and genuinely that for a moment, your anger quivered a bit.  

But it didn’t disappear.  You were still angry at George- although it’d hardened a bit into more of a constant state of frustration.  Everything he did, you managed to paint with the annoyance that he was doing so two-faced, lying to you about something as important as moving to another country.  

Still, from anyone else who viewed your smiling eyes and teasing comments, you wouldn’t seem mad in the least bit.  You felt the tiniest bit guilty for putting on a facade for your first interaction with Geroge’s best “real life” friends, but the guilt was quelled by your mission. 

The mission that you’d aimed to complete as soon as you’d met George at the entrance of the Winter Wonderland, but unfortunately was aborted after Oliver arrived 20 minutes early.  You were forced to entertain him and George alike, and save your confrontation for another time.  

And now, as you sat halfheartedly in a sushi restaurant a couple of blocks from the Wonderland, you were just waiting for the perfect opportunity to confront your boyfriend.

Chapter Text

It didn’t take long for you to warm up to George’s friends, or rather, for them to warm up to you.  Contrasting the chilly atmosphere in the park, you found yourself feeling all sorts of excitement at the stories and such that they told; mostly involving George’s apparent “party phase” in University.  You’d learned that all four of them had gone to the same one, although Ponk and George had met a bit before then through, you guessed it, Minecraft.  You zoned out on the details, still trying to remind yourself that you were angry at George.  But you wouldn’t give up an opportunity to learn information handed to you on a silver platter, for future blackmail of course.  

And you could certainly see yourself using it in the near future, especially the tale of George being hungover during an entire semester.  

After sushi you’d all beelined straight to the rides in Winter Wonderland, of course after going through the lengthy ticket-checking lines.  But now that it was behind you, you realized that the perfect way to get your mind off of your future confrontation was to, well, have fun. 

You’d just have to be a kid until the perfect opportunity came to talk to George. 

“So as I was saying,” Ponk continued, cheering his friend Oliver on as he attempted the ring toss game in hopes of winning a panda plush, “There was one time when George and I were supposed to do a project together, right?  And we said we’d meet in the library, so of course I was there waiting for him for not one, not two, but three fucking hours !” 

“Wasn’t it four?  You keep changing it Ponky-” Jac pointed out.

“Shut it, were you there?”  Jac shook his head defeated.  “Anyway, so you’d think he’d have a good excuse, right?  But guess what he was doing while I was working away on the project?” 

You rolled your eyes.  “Minecraft,” you both said at the same time, then erupted into laughter as George tried to protest.  

A sad beep told you that Oliver had lost the game, and he huffed, “Damn you!  Making me lose the game with you’re stupid George stories-”

“Stupid?!  Five hours, Oli!” 

“You said three-” 

You could tell that some of the stories were exaggerated, especially by the way George just scoffed and rolled his eyes instead of appearing embarrassed.  Still, you’d risen your eyebrows more than enough times at the thought of how such a timid introvert could be, as they described it, a “raging party-goer”.  The moment you’d had time alone (on the rollercoaster, which only had 4 seats across and George had graciously chickened out of) they unloaded probably a million stories of his routine hangovers and missed classes.  

So, yes.  George’s friends had won you over, and by the time you’d made it to the ferris wheel you were almost sad that it only seated a max of three in each car and that none of the others wanted to third wheel you and George.  Which meant you and George were destined to share a ride, alone, at what should’ve been a romantic date.  

Should’ve been, under different circumstances.  

But this was as good of an opportunity as you were going to get, and you’d be an idiot to waste it. 

Feeling enough mixed and mingled feelings yourself, you’d barely even noticed how George also seemed emotionally distant from you.  Perhaps you’d just overlooked it, written it off as just the way he acts when around his friends.  In-person friends, at least. 

But no, you only noticed it after stepping into the swaying ferris-wheel-car, when George shuffled awkwardly to the other side, not making eye-contact like usual nor giving even a grin.  No, his frosted eyes remained glued on the exterior of the car, pondering the open windows as though they held secrets and magic.  

The door clicked closed and you let out a frosty breath that you didn’t notice you were holding.  The loud creak of the overhead hinges made you realize how fast your heart was beating- because of what, you didn’t know.  

You finally cleared your throat and mustered the courage to look up at George when the ferris wheel began moving.  

“Hi,” you whispered, just a sound.  You hadn’t spoken a word only to him with no one around since the call that morning.  

Why were things so tense now?  He seemed fine when you’d called earlier.  

Right?

Or was he just good at hiding it? 

Another creak cut through your thoughts, silencing them with a swift noise as the wheel, only a couple spots from when you’d gotten on, came to a stop.  

Ponk and Oliver’s quips had become murmurs to your ears as they strayed further from you, taking another car three away.  It was a large ferris wheel, you counted twenty swinging seats in total.  It was lit up dramatically in shades of silver and blue to match the snowy wonderland that now existed below you.  

It was beautiful, really.  There was a twinkling lake that just bordered one of the rides, and cheers of children enjoying the rollercoaster danced up to your ears.  You couldn’t help yourself smiling whilst watching the people, who were just close enough to see in detail but far enough that they couldn’t feel your gaze.  

Everything was light, making the pit in your stomach even more noticeable and draining.  

“Hi,” you said again, looking at George directly.  He huffed a little so that a puff of frost came from his nose, then met your eyes under thick lashes.  

“Hi.” 

You sighed.  The air was thick with condensation.  “Let’s talk.” 

George sputtered a little bit, caught off guard.  Obviously he’d noticed the radiating tension emerging from you all night, but he probably wasn’t used to confrontation.

“O-okay?  What about?” 

Mincing words was dumb.  “Are you planning to move to Florida?” 

The ferris wheel was parked at the very top right about now, and showers of stars enveloped George’s face as it fell.  

“Oh,” he mumbled. 

“Oh,” you repeated, annoyance bubbling.  It annoyed you how even when you were angry at him , and he was the one in the wrong, you still couldn’t handle him feeling guilty.

“Where-” 

“Dream’s stream.  And Twitter.  And you’re stream.”

“Oh,” he said again.  His hands were fidgeting non-stop.  You sucked in a breath to shoo away all the idiotic thoughts longing for you to gently hold his fingers still.  

He coughed lightly, then said, “This is actually really bad timing.” 

Your eyebrow shot up.  “Yeah?  Then when would be the right time to tell your girlfriend that you were planning, even before meeting her, to move across the ocean?” 

George’s face sunk even lower than you thought possible, which gave a part of you a little satisfaction.  

“Okay, can I explain?  Please?” 

You leaned back in the metal seat, which was as uncomfortable as it looked.  Now the dancing stars seemed to taunt you over a stage of tired buildings. 

“Okay,” he said, looking at his feet and finally back up at you.  “Yes.  I was planning on moving to Florida, at some point, ever since I started my YouTube channel with Dream and Sapnap.  I was planning to live with them, split the rent, share a studio, all of that.  It was going to be awesome, the “Dream Team House”- and then covid hit.  Well, I guess it’d already hit, but it got bad.  Like, really bad.”

You didn’t bother nodding along, a creeping feeling of doubt reaching your neck.  

“So obviously we shelved the idea.  I mean, I could still make videos, Sapnap was still in school and all that, and Dream’d just gotten a new house so it’d be a bit odd to just move straight away,” he continued.  “And, as for me… well, that’s the bad timing bit.  I was planning to move out, for a while now but especially this last season.  And, well, when I met you- I knew it was the right time.  I…” 

He hesitated, twisting his gloved fingers and shuffling his feet.  “I found a flat.  Here in London.  I wanted to tour it with you tonight, after we left, since it’s only a couple miles away.”

Your mouth was parted gently in disbelief.  

“I… I wanted to ask you to move in with me.  You’re my girlfriend and, and I love you.” 

You went silent for a bit.  Unintentionally you mouthed the words ‘I love you’ after it rang in your head over and over again for the tenth time.  After all his words rang in your head. 

And, after that, the best you manage was barely a whisper. 

“Oh.” 

Your thoughts were scattered, intentions all over the place.  Guilt was just beginning to pool, drips of regret overfilling, when he spoke again.  This time stronger, in a different tone. 

“So, what exactly were you doing watching Dream talk about me?” 

The question didn’t seem particularly pointed but the way he delivered it gave you shivers.  

“I…”  You wanted to bang your head against the metal bar.  You had so much to say, yet nothing would come out.  

“You were stalking me?  What, me talking directly to you wasn’t enough, you had to go into my social media and watch all my streams?”

What?  What the hell is he talking about?   But your mouth just fell open dryly. 

“Look, I get that my streams are public, and all that… but you’re my girlfriend.  You don’t trust that I’m- that I’m gonna say something bad?  Online?  In front of millions of people?” 

“That’s not why I-”

“Then why do you watch my streams?  Why do you keep up with all the dumb lore that my friends do- are you,” he dropped his voice lower, “Are you only dating me because I’m famous?” 

And of course, your voice was still nowhere to be found.  All the information had rained down on you like arrows, and now you were left bleeding without anything to say.  Anything you could say.

A part of you felt betrayed.  Betrayed that George, the person you loved , that you had loved since you met him even before knowing about his channel- could ever think so lowly of you. 

But another part of you was angry.  Angry for the same reason, but more angry that he was being such a fucking idiot.  That he waited until this moment, until this perfect, romantic, starlit beautiful moment to thrust all of this upon you.  To well up all these issues he had with you, not telling you until you got so worried you confided in Dream of all people, and now to expect you to beg for forgiveness.  

But you wouldn’t.  No, maybe your thoughts and words and everything else were messier than the scattered crowds of people below the creaking car of the ferris wheel, but you’d be damned if you were that desperate.  If you were that pathetic.  

And so, in the foreground of a million galaxies, you looked everywhere in the big open world, everywhere but at who sat in front of you.  And when you were finally confident that George was so entranced in what was to his left that he wouldn’t notice your eyes, you allowed yourself a glance.  

And you could’ve sworn you saw a gleam of dampness in the crest of his eye.

Chapter Text

It turned out that a ten minute ferris wheel ride goes by quite slowly when you’re sitting in silence.  That didn’t mean you wanted to break the silence, of course but it made you excruciatingly tempted to.  Chills were creeping their way up your arms and with a pang you rejected the desire to ask for George’s jacket. 

The clip of your shoe as you exited the car snapped you back to the present, after previously roaming in the stars.  Though that wasn’t the only thing roaming.  Your mind had been in circles for the hundredth time by the time the two of you finally met up back with Ponk and the others.  

“Have fun lovebirds?” Oliver teased, and George managed a surprisingly convincing chuckle.  You wondered how often he had to falsely project happiness to even his close friends.  

To avoid the growing awkwardness as the group shuffled towards the nearest fairy-floss stand, you pulled out your phone.  Of course it was littered with boring notifications, but one caught your eye. 

40 mins ago

Dream: How’s the date going?

Against all odds the sincere message brought you a smile.  It seemed George really couldn’t keep his mouth shut.  

“We’ll have 5- or erm, do you two want to share?  I know couples do that kind of cutesy shit,” Ponk said once at the cashier.  You and George quickly glanced at each other and then awkardly shook your heads, hurriedly explaining how dumb that sounded and that the two of you would never do that. 

Except you had- you’d shared coffees, and kisses and hell, even a hundred boxes of skittles.  

Walking through Winter Wonderland with bright blue fairy floss made you feel like a kid again.  Oh, how you’d give anything to go back to such a time, to have no complicated responsibilities and annoying doubts and fights and arguments.  

Then a thought occurred to you. 

Ever since you’d met George, everything had started to feel magical again.  The rose-colored glass blocking the view of a child had returned, and everything was… whimsical.  Days were no longer mundane, and for the first time in your life since being a kid you were excited about what the next day would bring.  Perhaps it’d be playing Minecraft, or maybe going to a bakery, or even just holding hands and watching the stars.  

And it was magical.  It was fun and exciting and you hadn’t realized how completely and utterly your life had changed until now… until you didn’t have it anymore.  

George was still wearing a stale frown, that had been weakened undoubtedly by being with his friends.  He hadn’t seen them in a year, after all, and he’d mentioned drifting apart from Ponk with his growing channel and whatnot.  But when they laughed and joked you’d never guess that had been the case. 

You were the victim of having to go on both the Tilt-A-Whirl and swing boat with a stomach full of sugar before finally backing out of another roller coaster. 

Whilst waiting by a concession stand for the boys to get back, you finally got a grip on yourself.  

George was planning to move in with you.  Or, to have you move in with him. 

But somehow he was still planning to move to Florida?

Which meant…

A choice.  Not between hot dogs or a burger like you were making currently, but a choice that George had to make sometime in the future.  You didn’t know how soon, or how much later, but it was inevitable that it would be made.  

Florida, or me.  

The promise of living with his friends, being within driving distance from everyone he cares about, warm weather and beautiful sunshine and the opportunity of a lifetime or…

You. 

“That was sick!” you heard, in that stupid voice that you could recognize from miles away.  

“I know right!” 

The four of them were very apparently drunk on adrenaline and, though it hurt, you managed a smile.  You couldn’t not smile, as they hugged one another and reminisced about things that only people that knew each other in real life could.  

“Have fun?” you asked, offering them a second cup of soda. 

Ponk laughed and clapped George on the back, “Yeah, but Georgie almost threw up!”

George protested, “I’m not a rollercoaster person, okay?  How many times do I have to-”

“Yeah, yeah, tell it to your twitch chat, not us.” 

Someone hummed “he’s in your bed and I’m in your twitch chat”. 

And then, just like that, Oliver pointed out that it was halfway past eleven.  

“Really?!  No way,” Ponk said, having to take a look himself to believe it.  

Damn.  Four hours had flown by, and you’d barely noticed.  

Maybe being angry made things go slower sometimes, but today was an anomaly.  

And maybe it didn’t hurt that you managed to have a little bit of fun. 

Regardless, the deal was that both Ponk and Jac had to be home by midnight so they could celebrate New Year’s with their families.  Apparently to both of them it was a big deal, and being late was a punishable offense.  

“We should probably get going,” Jac pointed out after a bit.  The three of them had driven together, and by the looks of the endless parking lot finding the car would be a challenge in itself.  

“Yeah, plus we gotta drop this fool off,” Oliver agreed, giving Ponk a nudge. 

The three of them laughed and George smiled, giving each of them a bear hug.  A wordless way of saying a million words. 

You found yourself smiling.  George wasn’t a very physical person, which was why his sudden show of affection surprised you.  But they didn’t seem surprised, embracing him like a cousin and making hopeful plans to see each other soon.  

“Alright mate, it was nice seeing you,” Ponk cheered, and Oliver said the same about meeting you.

And, before you knew it, they were gone, swallowed into darkness.  

You looked after them.  The light in the parking lot was dim, only lit by the street lights dotted around.  The road you’d arrived on was a walk to the left, so with a last look towards George’s friends you headed that way. 

...

George followed you, again not saying a word.  You heard a sigh escape him, almost lost to the roaring wind.  The stars were mostly obscured by clouds now.  Oh how you missed having something to distract yourself with and not have to look George in the eyes and say something.

You didn’t want to talk to George.  You didn't want to be here.  You felt trapped.  And more alone than you’d ever been.

And yet he was next to you, steady footsteps never faltering, to the beat of your own heart that now roared in your ears.  The silence was so thick you were sure you’d drown in it, although not the same silence that you were cornered in on the ferris wheel.  It was more akin to pushing yourself to the edge of a bridge, about to fall.  You had all the power in the world to stop yourself from letting yourself go into the dark inky void below, but you didn’t.  A gentle force that coaxed you, swayed you, until you eventually slipped over.  

You didn’t want to stay silent, but you had to.  You were forced to.  A strand of hair danced between your fingertips.  The purse in your grasp now left cold marks from the pressure.  Your neck was having trouble keeping your head upright.  Everything was slow.  Everything was harder, and slower, as though the air were molasses and you were wading through it. 

Where had it all even gone wrong?

Did Dream give you the wrong advice?

You couldn’t remember anymore. 

You couldn’t remember why you were angry anymore.  All that you knew was that you wanted George in your arms to soothe their aching.  

But for some unknown reason you couldn’t have that.  

You were tired, and thoughts spiraled until you were dizzy enough to forget who you were. 

You didn’t remember what you’d said.  You didn’t remember the words that had left you stung, or why they had hurt you the way that they did, or why you were so far away from the boy you just wanted to love. 

It was all a mystery, a puzzle. 

All lost in silence and sleep-deprivation. 

Until-

Crack!

You jerked your head to where the sound had come from, just in time to see the remnants of fiery sparkles.  

New Year’s fireworks. 

You pulled out your phone just as another sizzle illuminated the world above you, meeting halfway between the ferris wheel and one of the other tallest rides.  

12:00, January 1st. 

It’d been 30 minutes.  You sighed, and without even thinking, you smiled.  

The display was over the water near the park, and although there were too many trees blocking the complete view, it was enough.  Blue and purple flower-shaped fireworks came next, followed before a line of gold that exploded into millions.  Green and pink and shades of yellow that you didn’t know existed lit up your eyes.  And for a moment it was just you, you and the sky.  The beautiful, dancing sky, as though a toddler had broken into an art studio and smeared rainbows of colors on an inky black canvas.  

Only a moment, though.  

Because of course you could only be happy for a moment without your heart wanting to share the moment with George.  

You weren’t expecting a smile, you’d be wrong to expect a smile as he looked back at you after being encapsulated in the same magical world as you had.  

But you received one.  A weak, perhaps reluctant smile, but one that lifted the corners of his mouth up and defined the lines in his eyes nonetheless.  

And as George turned back to the fireworks you felt your gaze resting on his profile for just a minute longer, tracing that same gorgeous outline that you had a million times before.  Getting lost in the same features that you’d drowned in before.  

It was enough to melt anyone, and most certainly melt you no matter how icy your pride made itself out to be. 

“George,” you said

He didn’t respond, another firework sounding right as the name left your lips.  It was green, and the shape was that of a palm tree.  Gentle leaves prickling at your conscience, at your guilty conscience.  Promises of warm nights and gentle oceans, and happiness. 

His happiness.  

The same happiness that stood before you as he watched the fireworks with love and joy and perhaps a little bit of whimsy.

Happiness you’d jump off a bridge to protect.   

“George,” you said again.  You summoned the courage to look him in the eyes as he turned back to you, pouring out all of your regret and sorrow and wishes and love.  All with a look, that you couldn’t even tell if he could make out.    

“George, I’m sorry.”  

George continued looking at you, quizzically,  You didn’t want to be studied, you didn’t even want to be forgiven.  

You just wanted to be loved.  

“I’m sorry for everything- for not trusting you, for watching your streams, for thinking you were going to leave me when all I want for you to be happy, no matter what that means- I was being selfish.  I didn’t understand, and I was… I was scared-”

“No.”  George said.  You didn’t think he’d ever held eye-contact with you this long.  The explosions beside you were as hushed as a breeze, replaced by your heartbeat. 

“No,” he continued as blood roared in your ears, “I’m sorry.  I freaked out, I should’ve told you all this a long time ago.  I… I was wrong.  And I was stupid, and… I was also scared.  I was scared of…” he bit his lip, in the most adorable wonderful way, and his hands fidgeted in his pockets.  “...of losing you.”

Then George laughed, or some kind of humored sigh.  In an instant every bit of tension wound up in your muscles had released.  

“I- I don’t even remember what we were mad about.  I… it all just seems so far away,” he said, smiling again.  But this time it was wide, and cheeky, and warm.  And you smiled back, with warmth on your cheeks from the hot tears that had begun rolling down.  They pooled in the corners of your eyes, light and noticeable until you blinked and were left in a colorful blur.  

“Can we… can we pick up where we left off later?” you asked, swiping away some tears with your pinky.  

“Y-yeah,” George said, and you only now noticed how his voice was beginning to break.  And when he faced a specific direction you could make out the sparkle of tears beginning to form in his left eye.  “Let’s do that.” 

It was the hug he pulled you in that finally broke you.  Tears were flooding from your eyes, vision too blurry to even open your eyes.  But it didn’t matter because the soft fabric of his shirt against your eyelids kept you warm.  You felt that if you squeezed him any tighter he’d break into a million pieces, yet if you let go he’d be gone for good.  So you held on, as tight as you could, sniffling into his shoulder, caressing his back with your shaky fingers as he gently brushed his own through your hair.  His chin was pointed up, towards the fireworks again.  You could finally hear them again, your heartbeat a melody that seduced you into believing the calm was permanent.  

Eventually you managed to unwind your hands and wipe your nose, sinking into George’s arm around your waist and positioning yourself back towards the fireworks.  They were dying down now, but still brilliant.  George leaned his head on yours and you gripped his sweater as though it was going to slip through your fingers.  

And you stayed, in the brightest darkness, at one and at peace and wonderfully entangled in the sky and each other.  

Maybe nothing else mattered, if you didn’t have to make it matter.  Maybe the future, all the used up time and love left to give, could disappear just like the bursts of gunpowder dissipated after exploding in the sky.  It could melt into the background of infinity and never be recovered, simply sleeping in eternal bliss. 

Maybe this was okay, if George and you didn’t ever see eye to eye.  Just the magic of being able to share a moment together should make such squabbles pale in comparison, right? 

When the fireworks finally ended after a tremendous finale, you didn’t move.  You steeled your muscles, afraid that if you moved then George would follow, and leave again.  

Until finally he slid his arm away from your waist, straightening.  For that moment you felt cold, and alone, until he grasped your hand and squeezed it affectionately.  You didn't have to look at you to show him how happy that small gesture made you, it was written all over your face. 

And so, he led you with your hand in his to face the remainder of the path, and you walked simply content with matching footsteps until you reached the road. 

But George kept walking, past where you’d been dropped off by the uber earlier tonight, or what felt like an eternity ago.  

“Hm?” you questioned, “Where are we going?” 

“I’ll show you,” he said, although you already knew where.  Anxiety pooled in your stomach, but it faded quickly as George continued gripping your hand.  

His touch told you that it’d all be fine.

And just maybe, it would be. 

You opened up your phone, and typed a quick response to Dream from earlier.  

How’s the date going? He’d asked.  

I think it's going okay, you responded.  With a smile, you clicked off your phone and squeezed George’s hand back.

...

Somewhere down the road you could hear the faint tune of The Winner Takes it All playing, and the shops became less corporate and more tender and mom-and-pop-like.  A few bakeries scattered here and there, none of which you recognized of course since you were far from walking distance of your usual route.  

You began to notice how little of this huge city you’d really seen in your time staying here.  Each brick on the sidewalk must’ve had its own millennia of history, each tree a labor of love grown from the soil of kingdoms. 

Alright, maybe that wasn’t completely true, but the dreaminess of it all made it easy to imagine yourself as a lost princess galavanting through the streets, and George as your prince guiding you on an adventure.

It wasn’t that you forgot about the pit of guilt in your stomach, but somehow you had begun to let it go.  Perhaps you left it in the ashes of the fireworks, which by now felt like ancient history. 

“So, how much farther?” you asked, not wanting to seem too lost in your own wonderland.  Your hand was still firmly holding George’s, and yet, you still didn’t want to risk losing him.  Metaphorically, of course. 

“Patience,” he said, but you caught him glancing at Google Maps directions on his phone.  

You considered once or twice making your case again, to make extra sure that he wasn’t upset with you.  But, as you reminded yourself each time, he might actually be upset.  Just as you were at the moment, though you’d frozen your emotions in time in hopes of eventually forgetting them.  He’d most likely done the same.

And so, the argument from hours ago became a wound that was gently scabbed over, tempting to peel but the fear of drawing blood was too great.  

It remained a memory, floating away just as ABBA’s melody did as he led you out of earshot of the song. 

Chapter Text

And then, you were there.  

You knew it when you saw it, George didn't have to tell you, and you could tell which one it was before he told you.

It was a small apartment complex.  Not the most luxurious, but the exposed brick gave the illusion of being more modern than it was.  The doors to each flat were simply pale and cream and had a light hanging just above to illuminate the numbers.  

Some of the flats had little balconies, with matching flower baskets hanging from them.  Looking down the wall of flats to your right was like looking at a puzzle, or even a maze.  Each window was stacked and molded with creamy designs that looked pristine but somehow still dripped with charm, and there were about a dozen flats that matched the style.  There were probably more on the other side, but you'd come from the opposite end and the night was dark enough to obscure them.  

“You know which one’s ours, right?” 

George tugged at your sleeve as you admired the street and all of its character in the starlit night.  Your eyes rolled down the street, past identical numbered houses until you finally landed on one.  

A smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, which inevitably became a full grin.  

George grinned back as you let out a chuckle.  

“404, huh?” you asked, reading the bright silver letters that shined like stars at the door before you.  “How’d you possibly get that exact number?”

George smirked, “I have my ways.” 

You nodded.  You knew better than to expect him to explain it, and plus even if he didn’t you still didn’t leave the bright “for sale” sign in the window and “open house” unnoticed.

But what really took your breath away was what lay across the street.  You’d seen a glimpse as you walked, but only now could you make out what you were really seeing. 

As you turned around from where you stood on the sidewalk facing the flats, you drew in a breath.  Between the rows of trees that lined the sidewalk and across a quiet street, was a glittering view of a lake.  Or perhaps it was a river, or some kind of body of water that was large enough to not be able to see across in the dark.  It didn’t matter what it was, and plus, you’d ask later.  

The stars helped light it up enough to barely make out how gorgeous it looked, and how it caught sparkles in its surface and ripples danced in their reflections. 

George had put an arm around your waist at some point, probably smiling smugly at his victory.  

Which only reminded you of something you'd wished to forget: that this was temporary. 

That this was "the place to stay while he waits for the opportunity to go to Florida".  

And with that sinking feeling, and sparkles in your eyes, you finally wrapped your own arm around George's waist and gave him a squeeze.  He'd think it was to show how beautiful you found the view, how excited and surprised you were to start a new life with him… but really, it was for you.  It was a squeeze to make sure that he was still there, that he was real, and that this wasn't all a dream.  

And that maybe, just maybe, if you squeezed him hard enough and kissed him deep enough, he wouldn't leave. 

….

“Bit of a climb,” George huffed, and you smiled.  Your hand brushed against the glass railing.  The walls were barren and tan as sand, and the carpet was humble in an inviting way.  It felt… honest, and homey.  You could see yourself living here, or more importantly, living with George here.  

“George,” you said gently, “Can you see us living here?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation.  “I can.”

You felt a blush creeping up your neck, caught under his heavy gaze.  

“Yea?”  It was back.  That feeling that at one  point today felt foreign.  Your voice lowered itself, coming out husky and delicate.  “You can?” 

You were face to face now, practically memorizing each others’ eyes.  You let your own gaze wander lower, lower, just enough to make him squirm.  Oh, how you wanted to make him squirm.  

“Yes,” he said, equally raspily, “I can.” 

And then suddenly your lips were pressed against his, with a force so unexpected that it made you unsure whether you initiated it or not.  It didn’t matter, of course, now that the fire was born and already too strong to fan out.  Now that everything was messy and perfect and back to how it was, now that dead ends were getting mended and knives were put down and melted into liquid metal, metal that oozed out of your mouth and eyes as George kissed you so wonderfully and desperately that it hurt. 

You could taste fairy floss and the evening clarity and him, him, him.  So much of him until you were sure you’d always remember his taste, until it was emblazoned on your lips like a permanent mark.   His hands were far from where they were when they began roaming on your waist, now grasping your upper back getting lost in a sea of fabric and heat and sweat and passion.  Your hands were still clung around George’s middle hanging on for dear life as you felt you might melt any moment now. 

It was awkward, your uneven pace clashing and meeting in awkward spots.  But you didn’t care.  The passion alone was enough to conceal both your lack of experience kissing like this. 

And just at the moment when you were beginning to familiarize yourself with the patterns and paths George took kissing you, he shifted.  Soft lips met the flesh of your cheek and your earlobe and the edge where your jawline melted into your neck.  Your lips were abandoned and all you could do was tremble lightly with want.  

He didn’t use his teeth though, not at first.  It was as if he was too afraid.  Though you didn’t mind, his pressure and affection was enough to make you yelp and sign and moan, all kinds of sounds that you’d never heard yourself make.  

But the best bit were the tiniest whimpers that just barely reached your ears, through George’s parted red lips every so often when he felt you squeeze just a little harder or kiss him just a little deeper.  You threaded your hands in his hair, appreciating how long his locks had grown from September and being grateful that you could pull on them now.  Every time he sighed it was like a beautiful melody and everytime he dug his face into your skin it was as though a million of the gentlest waves were crashing over you at once. 

He made it to your collarbone, pulling the collar of your shirt to expose more skin.  Your fingertips danced around the hem of his shirt, temptation glistening on your skin as you teased the idea of more.  More.  More.  

You couldn’t resist wanting more.  More touching.  More kissing.  More yelps, more whines, more moans- it was all so amazing and yet your craving wasn’t satisfied. 

“George,” you breathed, eyes dazed and dreamy looking up at the ceiling, and suddenly the terrifying fact that you weren’t even in your own house just a mere footnote in a book you’d tossed away the moment George kissed you.  

“George,” you said again even more drunk on the feeling, “Use your teeth.” 

George stopped for a moment, making you whine in protest, but he cupped his fingers around your chin to pull your eyes to lock with his.  

If the look he gave you wasn’t so sexy, you’d be terrified.  It was like you opened up Pandora’s box, and not even George knew what he was capable of next. 

But you knew.  You knew that if this was him restraining himself, then you’d give anything to have him at his fullest.  

He whispered, his voice cracking from intensity, “You sure?” 

You nodded, squeezing your eyes shut, knowing that you couldn’t handle another second of his lips im not being on you. 

With only barely a moment of hesitation he lowered himself to your neck again, beginning gentler than before but rapidly increasing in intensity as he reached the sensitivity of your neck.  You squealed embarrassingly before he even teased you with his tongue.  Then he trailed back down to just the spot where your neck met your shoulder, and caught the skin in his teeth until you gasped.  When he released it was pink and tender and felt so fucking good.  

So, so fucking good. 

If before you were being washed over by waves, now it was lava.  Sweltering heat that surrounded every place on your skin that George met.  He trailed down to the center of your exposed upper chest, then hesitated before pulling your top down more to expose your upper arm and nip a trail down until your inner elbow.  

Then like a gentleman he grasped your fingers, kissing so gently on the back of your hand that you’d never guess he was the same boy who just bit into you like a crazed sex-lord. 

And again, he made up for his clumsiness with just pure, unbridled passion, and even more charm.  You giggled at his polite gesture, but when you looked down into his eyes, you realized it was more than that.  

He was asking for permission.  George was looking up at you, with those beautiful brown doe eyes, all of the desire in the world, for access to you. 

And here you were, nodding more aggressively than you’d ever had before.  

George didn’t waste any time, and it was extremely clear to you at that moment that it had been, to be generous, a while since he’d done something like this.  

Not that you could be one to talk, though. 

It was his turn now to run his fingers under the delicate hem of your shirt, shakily lifting it until you were in the same place you were that one day on Christmas with the Belle Delphine video. 

Although this time the same heat and nervous sub-conscience energy was nowhere to be found.  

It was all excitement, and you grabbed his wrists to make him pull up faster.  Faster.  More.  More. 

Before you knew it your top was discarded on the floor beside you, on the new carpet that ran through the entire flat. 

Your entire flat. 

Well, future flat.  

The details didn’t matter, especially not when all of your thoughts were focused on a single point in time: the look that George gave you at that moment.  Lust, desire, love… it was practically drooling from his mouth, and that satisfied you to no end.  

You cupped his chin with your hand as he bashfully looked back up at you, and you gave him a kiss.  Softer, this time, and he pushed back, just enough.  You took the opportunity to trail your own hands down his waist, playing with the hem of his jeans, teasing the fabric of his shirt.  

But George was faster, and in a moment he replaced your hands and swiftly discarded his own top on the floor.  

Now it was your time to admire.  You didn’t get as much of a chance as you wanted to since George pressed against you nearly immediately, but you caught sight of how beautifully his figure caught the starlight from the windows.  His skin looked so flawless and slender and just the right amount of hair and you just wanted to ruin him.  You wanted to mark up his skin so much that he’d never forget how much you were capable of doing to him.  

From then on your fire increased tenfold, biting his bottom lip and nipping his neck ruthlessly as he had to you.  All for the sake of earning even just one of those shallow moans, sounding like relaxed exhales if you didn’t pay attention.  George’s vocal chords were raspy now, and his sighs sounded even more like whines which drove you insane. 

“Good boy,” you whispered as he pulled you tighter after you marked his collarbone.  His hands around your waist felt like heaven as your shoulder blades pressed back into the wall.  You were sure if you leaned anymore you’d make a dent in it.  

George huffed in response, as if annoyed yet intrigued by the nickname.  You liked that, you liked teasing him.  You like learning about what he enjoyed and what he didn’t, and about what would set him off. 

Your breath hitched as he ran a finger around the inner hem of your jeans.  You felt your stomach tighten, and his hushed voice in your ear, 

“You want to see good?” 

You weren't sure where his newfound confidence had come from, all you knew was that you were a wobbly mess after those words registered in your brain.  The only thing truly holding you up was George’s grip around your waist, and his fingers that were venturing lower until they reached the zipper of your jeans.  

Your breathing halted again, but this time for a different reason.  

“George,” you whispered.  

But he was too focused, and he simply cupped his right hand to hold the back of your neck steady.  

“George,” you said again, and this time he responded with a kiss.  One to satisfy you, or perhaps to shut you up. Regardless, it left you whimpering by the time you said your third, “George.” 

This time he stopped, keeping his fingers moving but looking up at you.  He listened. 

“George, we…” it took all of your self control, but you parted your gaze from his eyes to around the room.  “Home.  Let’s do this at home.”

George couldn’t mask the disappointment in his eyes, and honestly you didn’t blame him.  You couldn’t either. 

“Tonight?” he asked softly, retracting his touch.  

You nodded again, vigorous and sure.  In fact you’d never been so sure.  You were sure of that much.

...

It was like standing in an ice-bath as George fished his phone out of his pocket and called up an Uber.  You sighed when you saw the time read 10 minutes; too much time to start something and not go too far. 

So instead you offered re-taking a tour of the flat. 

This time you held George’s hand as you guided him through the rooms, first to the living room across from the door you’d just… made out against.  

There was a plain sofa and a plainer TV-stand, but other than that it was bare.  Though the windows were dark and there was only a white-hainkerchief as a curtain, it was charming in some kind of way.  There was another little leather couch on the far side under the windows, and across from that were some chairs scattered around like a makeshift dining area.  

Next to that area was a little box-shaped area cut out of the hallway.

“This is where I’m going to put my desk, I think,” George said, pointing out the area.  

You cocked your eyebrow.  “Really?  It’ll fit?” 

He nodded.  

“And what if I have to go through this hallway?” 

George smirked.  “Ah, and that’s why I’ll have a greenscreen!  Plus, less unused gameplay in the frame of my streams, since there won’t be any background!” 

You rolled your eyes, impressed with how much he’d thought all this through.  

Across from the indent was another door, or rather two next to each other.  The first one led to the kitchen, a plain yet sufficient little white kitchen that spilled out into another dining area that was also accessible further down the hall, across from it a bathroom.  

You didn’t bother going through there again, since you’d practically had the whole place memorized by now.  It wasn’t the largest place in the world, but you liked that. 

And of course, the second door (the one you’d happened to be pinned against a moment ago) led to your favorite room: the bedroom.  

As you both entered and sunk onto the bed, not bothering to turn on the lights, you sighed contently.  

Yeah, you could imagine yourself here.  The ceiling was higher than the rest of the house, and there was a delicately-ornate closet built into the wall across from the bed.  To the left was another, larger bathroom with a sparkling glass shower.  Again, nothing too exquisite, but lovely enough for you to fall in love.  

You were resting on the bed, playing with George’s hair, when he finally got an alert from the Uber.  

The restraint you’d displayed not kissing him again was unmatched, and you were practically starving by the time you got into the car and greeted the driver.  George sat in the back with you, so maybe he had the same idea. 

…

You almost felt bad for the driver- if it wasn’t for his apparent tiredness and probably worn down patience over what must’ve been a busy New Year’s of Uber-ing, he seemed like the type that would strike up a conversation.  

But with the way that you were draped over George like a piece of cloth, that was the furthest thing from your mind.  Your fingers became the shore upon which the waves of his hair crashed, and the heat growing on your neck made it impossible to not beg him right then and there to kiss it.  Your eyes danced, heavy and sultry and so sex-driven it was scary, around his lips and his neck and his collarbone.

You didn’t want to look him in the eyes.  You were scared of what would happen if you did.  

You were scared of what thoughts you’d see behind them, and more importantly you were terrified of what they would do to you.  The reins on your own self-control were already slipping out of your grasp.  An itching desire was pooling in your core, creeping to the sensitive skin of your chest and licking your lips for you.  

Yet you’d been naive, naive to believe the choice of whether or not to let go was yours.  

Because in a moment's notice George caught your chin between his thumb and forefinger, and brought your gaze up to meet his dead-on.  

Saying that you gasped would be a very… restrained description of the sound that emerged from you as you bore into George’s eyes at that moment.  Had he been in your line of sight you might’ve caught the driver glance back, but he wasn’t. 

The only thing you could see was desire.  Clouded beneath inky eyes that just barely caught the lights outside the window, barely.  Just enough that you could see eyelashes and the orbs that lay under them.  

But he gave away nothing else.  No vulnerability, no desperation like before- it was all concealed.  The only thing you could tell was that the trembling of George’s legs, and the gentle click of his jaw, was the result of a just barely contained craving. 

One that was overflowing.  It was killing both of you slowly, a toxin that ran through your systems as fast as a bullet and as slow-acting as the car-ride was feeling.  

But you managed to keep his gaze, sultry and destructive, eye-fucking him to see who would break first.  

You tugged at his hair making him whimper light enough to be passed off as a sigh.  You decided you liked being able to do that to him.  

In return he traced the skin under your top, making circles and squares on tender skin which made you tremble.  His smirk conveyed all the satisfaction you knew he felt from that. 

It was a calculated game of chess, testing one another just to their limit, cresting on the moment just before they’d break.  George running a finger all the way from your calves to your hips and pulling away just before you wanted him to.  You nipping the skin of his wrist until he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled on your waist.  

And slowly, and as silently as you could manage, you began melting into the shapes George drew onto your skin.  You melted into the marks you left on his upper-arm.  And before you knew it, you’d melted into the starry sky that would, any hour now, dissolve into the morning’s glowing hues. 

Chapter Text

By the time you were back at your flat (George had insisted that you were not about to fuck with his parents under the same roof), it was a bit past 4:00 am.  The sky was still largely inky blue, though slight hues of periwinkle were beginning to show themselves just around the edges of the horizon.

You didn’t know how you felt about the fact that today had probably been the most eventful day of your life, and it was still about to get better. 

Or, to be more accurate, the past two days.  New Year’s eve and day had melded together, and the Winter Wonderland saga felt like long-faded history.  

You’d remember to pick up where you left off, with the disagreements and the sadness and confusion.  

But right now, none of that existed.  

Right now, as you lay in George’s lap in the Uber home, tracing his jawline for the millionth time, you were content.  More content than you’d ever been, and the best was still yet to come.  

Tonight , he’d said.  In the open-house flat, when he’d kissed you so well you’d forgotten your name, and found it in yourself to stop before it wasn’t an option anymore.  

Now, you thought, as the driver rolled into your parking-lot.  

“Thank you sir,” you squeaked hastily to the driver, who waved you out carelessly.  Probably eager to not have to share a car with a horny couple anymore. 

And, like many things, you’d overestimated your ability to stand properly after having your legs teased by George’s magic touch.  You had to lean on him embarrassingly as he led you up the stairs of your own apartment complex.  

By the time you reached the door, though, you’d found your energy again.  You weren’t quite sure how you’d managed to do all of that and then some, but you didn’t question it.  Questioning meant doubt, and doubt meant a chance of it slipping away.  So, you’d do none of the above. 

And so, you kissed him.  

Before you unlocked the door, you kissed George as though you never had before- and certainly not just the hour before.  You let your lips do the moving, the talking, the dancing.  And you let him press back, straightening himself after you leaned him against the door, him pushing back and taking a handful of your hair to regain balance.  

He kissed you slowly, and you liked how his mouth wet your lips and how he swiped his tongue over your bottom one to dry it.  Tentatively you took the opportunity to slide your own tongue in, tasting George’s sweet candy lips and stroking the silky skin inside them.  Whenever you were feeling daring enough you ran your tongue against his teeth, which made him moan elegantly without breaking contact. 

And he did the same, testing the waters a bit more tentatively than you had, but diving in nonetheless.  He liked moving methodically, in even circles that covered your mouth in his taste as he lapped up your own.  It was slow, the pace going no faster than your heartbeats.  

Eventually your squeeze on his neck made him gasp, and his hands hooked under your belt loops to hoist you up.  He teased your hips with circles on your bare skin, and you moaned against his tongue, terrifyingly loud.  But somehow your embarrassment had disappeared, and you realized that it had melted away just as your exhaustion had.  

And at some point you found yourself wrapping a hand around the doorknob for balance, reminding you that a slab of wood was all that stood between you and everything that was wonderful.  

Or in other words, some good-ass sex.  

So you broke away gently to fish your keys out of your purse as fast as humanly possible, and shove it into the lock until it clicked.  

You gave George a smirk, and led the way in.  

…

Was your flat the prettiest at the moment?  No.  Two weeks of thinking George hated you did… certain things to your mental health.  And by extension your cleanliness.

But were you about to make it about ten times messier by pinning George against every possible surface inside?  Absolutely.  

And now, the tender make-out from before was gone.  It was just you, him, and your lips.  Harsh, strong, and passionate.  

You could barely close the door before George pressed you to the nearest wall, making you drop the purse to the floor and start kicking off your shoes as fast as you could.  George did the same, much more elegantly than you which annoyed the hell out of you.  

You only had pockets of about half a second to breathe before George would kiss you again.  You’d painstakingly remove a shoe, then he’d kiss you until your lips were red, then you’d peel off your socks and by the time you were done he’d run his hands around your waistline. 

He was messy in his movements, going for whatever probably seemed right in the moment.  He didn’t really know what he was doing, and neither did you really.  This was so different, unlike anything you’d ever done, and you couldn’t be more exhilarated. 

Finally barefoot and kissed breathless you gripped George's shoulder blades for dear life as he sucked on your neck, and for the first time that night you moaned unabashedly, no longer worried about who would hear and who would judge.  

He liked that, and before you could catch your breath he nipped the same sensitive spot where he’d left a mark.  You gasped, tugging him closer, pulling his hair harder, making George whisper the hottest “fuck” ever.  

That itself could’ve made you moan, but you took the opportunity to murmur, “bedroom”.   

George didn’t seem to care though, wanting to take you here and now if he could.  

But you had standards.  Your first time with George would not be next to the shoe-stand in your hallway.  

So instead you pulled at his neck, releasing yourself from the wall and directing him to the bedroom.  It was just across the hall, and you were quite relieved that you arrived un-scathed. 

Or, well, at least not from bumping into anything.  The same couldn’t be said about what George was doing to your neck.  

The instant the bedroom door clicked shut, the most satisfying relief flooded through you.  

Finally.  George was here.  You were here.  No more waiting, no more holding your breath.  

You sighed, and laughed.  Giggled, more like it, as George pressed you down at the foot of your bed and continued kissing trailed up your arms.  

He looked up at you briefly between contact, confused eyebrows raised.  

But you just smiled, giggling more.  

It was perfect.  This was perfect.  

All of it. 

…

NSFW Warning!

…

“George,” you whimpered.  His kisses had slowed down, but instead of continuing like you anticipated he would, he just came to a steady halt.  

“Yeah?” he said, barely a huff.  

You took the chance, and scooted back on the bed, sitting up on your knees.  George was still on the floor, now kneeling by the foot of the bed with his arms crossed over the mattress.  He looked up at you with puppy dog eyes, so different from the look he’d given you in the car.  

Sunlight had only just begun entering through the blinds in bands, draping across the bed and reflecting golden flakes in Geroge’s eyes.  

You prayed to god that they hit you in a flattering way as you sat up tall, taking your hair down and shaking the curls loose.  By the look in George’s eyes, it seemed that you did.  

Just like before, in a smooth movement that you were used to, you slipped off your top letting it fall off the side of the bed.  

You teased the straps of your bra a little, putting on a show.  You were too embarrassed to look George directly in the eyes, but still let the straps fall by your arms nonetheless. 

And then, before you could hesitate or get self-conscience, you reached behind you and unclipped the clasp of your bra. 

It fell on your lap, all fabric finally removed from your top-half.  You felt a slight chill brush past your breasts, fighting your natural instinct to wrap your arms around yourself bashfully.  

But, when you finally looked back at George, the pure wonder in his face kept you from doing any such thing.  It made even the mere thought of being ashamed of yourself seem foreign, seem preposterous.  

And that was all you needed. 

Without another doubt, you crawled forward, making sure to take your time, until you met George’s face and planted a kiss on his lips.  After you drew away his mouth remained parted, just slightly, and his eyes were locked down so that they were obscured by those gorgeous lashes.  

And he looked back up at you, with those same doe eyes, this time similar to before: asking for permission.  

You knew you didn’t have to answer, so instead you just looked at him and smiled. You took his hands in yours, and guided him onto the bed, guided him on top of you.  

His hair was just slightly damp with sweat, making his curls more defined as they fell over his face.  He tried sweeping them from his eyes more than once, but more than once it rebelled.  Something about George with his hair dripping with wetness… you could’ve came right there looking at him. 

Delicately he made his way forward, letting you pet his locks as he gently brushed the skin of your chest with his knuckles.  

But before letting him have you completely, you helped him pull off his shirt in a swift and single movement.  

Finally.  Finally, you could admire his beautiful chest, his beautiful skin, his beauty.  You could follow the blush that began at his cheeks down, down to paint his collarbone and shoulders and lower even down to his chest and stomach, and even lower still. 

Without restraint you found yourself pressing yourself against him once again, kissing him to distract him as you wrapped your fingers under the zipper of his jeans.  You felt him moan as you pressed to undo the clasp, his hand instinctively going to your wrist as he helped you pull the fabric down.  

Then when you parted he looked up at you, face angled downward, hair still framing his eyes mischievously.  That gleam in his eyes and moist parted lips were so fucking hot, you whimpered at the sight of him. 

And the moment George discarded his jeans in the growing pile of clothes, and the moment he licked his lips to coat them with glistening elixir, you were finally ready for what you were in for. 

In a breath you’d also discarded your own jeans, sitting more upright as you let yourself tease the hem of your panties while he watched through slow, focused breaths.  

George’s usual attire of rather baggy clothes made you forget sometimes how lean he truly was.  But when he was over you like this, glistening in soft golden light, you thought he almost looked like a god.  

…

Okay, MAJOR NSFW Warning!!!

...

It took you a couple minutes, in between breathing and hushed teases and kissing, to finally work up the courage to reach your arm over to your bedside table and shuffle around until you found a small bottle and a thin package. 

George looked at you a bit curiously, badly hiding a smirk as you rolled your eyes and scoffed. 

“What?!  I’ve got to be prepared!” you said, screwing open the cap of the lube bottle. 

George chuckled, swiping his lip, “So, how many condoms do you have in there?” 

You shoved him playfully, then leaned forward so that you were looking up at him brattily.  

“Enough,” you breathed, biting your lip.  You didn’t back off until his breath hitched nervously.  

Smirking, you tossed him the bottle (which he caught ungracefully) and you ripped open the condom package with your teeth.  

George was turning the bottle over in his hands, probably still surprised that you were so prepared.  As if you wouldn’t be, dating someone as hot as him. 

“Aren’t we forgetting something?” he said, and you looked up.  

His eyes were locked on your… well, your panties, under which you were embarrassingly eager.  For the first time you dipped into feeling flustered, though in a good way.  You liked being on display for George, putting on a show for only his pretty eyes.  

You smiled, fingers dancing with the hem of the lacy cloth.  

“Yeah?  And what’s that?” you murmured, crawling forward and brushing some hair out of his face. 

You half expected George to kiss you in response, but instead, he cupped your hands in his own, around your waist, and gently guided them to pull down.  

No kissing.  Nothing to hide behind, with his eyes bearing into you insatiably and unabashedly.  You blushed, but examining his look and the pure adoration that flooded his eyes… you’d never felt more loved.  More adored. 

With his other hand rising to your chest to cup the side of your breast, his other hand dipped lower until you stifled a gasp.  

“You’re so… hot,” he cooed, and you felt your wetness grow as he danced lower, lower until he was just at the curve of your stomach.  

“Yeah?” you whimpered, trying to sound sexy while also fighting the sinfully strong urge to melt.  “You like my boobs, huh?” 

George laughed.  “Yeah, but I think I’m going to like this even more.” 

Without warning George brought his hand all the way down, stroking your sensitive skin so suddenly that you threw your head back in pleasure.  His fingers were shaking and nervous, and he’d neglected his other hand as he was clearly too focused.  But you didn’t care, even just the slightest touch that he was giving you felt incredible. 

The gentle thud of fabric landing on the floor beside the bed. 

You were practically soaked, ashamed at how turned on he’d gotten you even without any contact.  You could feel your heart beating where his fingers just glazed over your clit, not stroking nor pressing but just teasing.  You didn’t even know if he knew he was teasing you, perhaps he was just being tentative.  But it served the same purpose, driving you beyond insane in that moment.  

Whimpering and begging all sorts of nonsense you finally let yourself lean back, George following your lead and crawling over you, not moving his hands.  He moved his mouth to your neck, not kissing like you wanted him to but everytime he exhaled, his breath tickled your ears.  

“George,” you finally stuttered as his fingers ran over your entrance another time.  “I.. please.” 

“Please what?” George said, and you thought you could sense pity in his voice.  “Tell me.” 

All you could manage was a whimper, lips parted as you looked down at him hazily, from another dimension.  

“Please,” another grunt, “In.  Fingers.” 

George huffed, as despite giving you no choice but to answer, he was still taken aback by your forwardness. 

But he obliged.  His fingers loosened, as though he was trying to soften them into jelly.  And with a great pause that could’ve been an hour, George finally pressed into you with only his forefinger.  You gasped, feeling pressure where you hadn’t in a while.  His confidence made you even wetter, pushing in his finger until his knuckle.  He didn’t even have to move to get you squirming and moaning around him, and when he gently started pulling in and out nervously you only made more noise.  

“Ah,” you cooed, and he rubbed your stomach to soothe the slight pain but even more pleasure.  “More, George.” 

“Okay, just…” without warning he pulled out, and you whined like a kitten in protest.  “Shh, shh one moment.  Just one moment, that’s all, love…” he said, and somehow, you listened.  Your head was thrown back and you couldn’t see what he was doing, but you heard rustling.  With glazed eyes you finally peered down, watching him pour over the small lubricant liquid over his three fingers.  His delicate, slender fingers that looked so wonderful coated in shiny gloss, fingertips round and gently calloused in contrast to the tender, pale and just barely rosy skin that wrapped his phalanges.  

Your mouth was watering just admiring the way he remained focused on only his left hand, spreading the thick gel to coat every skin cell.  

It was only a matter of time before he felt you staring, and when he looked up, the innocence in his gesture was gone.  Instead was a smirk, paired with dangerous glimmering eyes.  

“Get comfortable, love,” he purred, lowering so that his head was more level with your abdomen.  You flinched as his breath brushed its sensitive skin, especially as it trailed down.  

A hand of yours mindlessly found itself combing through George’s hair. 

George caressed your thighs gently, coaxing them apart to leave you chillingly exposed.  But you didn’t mind after he continued murmuring sweet encouraging compliments, each one making you blush a shade deeper. 

“You’re beautiful,” he’d say, daring to finally touch a finger to the outside of your core.  

“Yes, keep making those lovely sounds,” he’d hum as he slipped a finger in once again, much easier than before, as though gliding through fabric.  

“Ah, you feel amazing,” George said finally, one finger in and another halfway.  You hadn’t even realized another entered you, until it was fully in and he attempted to push in another. 

You squirmed under him, crying out his name since you couldn’t remember anything else.  

“Shh, you’re doing so well.  You’re doing so well,” he repeated which only made you moan even more.  Your vision was blurry, dreamy, with just a hint of George’s chestnut brown hair in your view.  

“You alright?” he asked, and you nodded immediately.  “Okay.” 

With an audible breath in, George curled his fingers inside of you making your back arch instantly.  Your need was urgent and burning and somehow he’d satisfied you almost immediately.  

Instinctively you brought your free hand down, right above where his own fingers were but low enough to feel the wetness off of where you were practically dripping.  The more he curled and moved the more you circled your clit, in a familiar rhythm that learned to match George’s.  It felt like heaven, especially when he brought his right thumb to your inner thigh and stroked it close enough to send electric shocks through your system.  

Perhaps that was why George had such a terrifying look before- because he knew how easily he could make you high on the feeling, how much he could get you to enjoy it.  Even too much, if he wanted to.  He could get you addicted in a heartbeat. 

And maybe that was how he knew the exact moment to pull out, all at once, just before you could scream at your fullest and before you could feel your stomach clench around him and submit yourself to the tsunami at your doorstep.   

As his fingers disappeared and you felt yourself clench on nothing pathetically your tension flooded to your grasp on his hair, pulling as tight as you could without even thinking, making him moan loud enough to surprise both himself and you.  If nothing else, that made you smile.  

But you were still a whining mess, frustrated at him for not letting you finish even though the bit of sanity left in you knew exactly why.  

“I know, I know… it’ll be worth it love.  I promise,” he cooed in your ear, making you shiver even as you continued letting cries slip between your lips.  

Without wasting a moment he began apprehensively slipping his fingers around his boxers.  They were blue, light blue with darker plaid patterning.  And you thought he looked ethereal in them, and nothing else.  They made his skin gleam against navy bands and his thighs look like they’d fit amazingly around your waist, or even your neck.  

But you reeled in your thoughts, enough to grasp enough sanity to sit up and place your hands over his, right as he was about to pull the waistband down.  

He looked down at you curiously, sitting up on his knees as you were, almost pathetically, sat below him.  But your eyes gleamed, and your hands caressed his until they became weaker and you could guide them.  

And you did guide them, down, lower, until George had to awkwardly get them off all the way and toss them on the floor.  It was his turn to breathe in, exposed and on sight, probably sweating his life out but somehow not revealing any of it on his gaze.  He looked focused, and beautiful.  

Every part of him was beautiful, you could now confirm that with complete certainty.  Your mouth was desperately tempted to just take him in that moment, but you restrained yourself.  Instead, you grabbed the bottle of lube, George moaning softly even before you touched him. 

With a squeeze the size of a coin you gently coated your hands, and wrapped them around his gorgeous length.  

George gasped, panting as you transferred the gel from your hands to his cock.  The skin was soft like his fingers, but firm.  You felt as though maybe your hands were made to be wrapped around him like this, as you pumped gently and he stifled a gulp.  With delicate fingers you massaged his tip, wiping drops of precum from it and using it to further lube your movement.  You didn’t want to overstimulate him, especially not like he’d done for you, but just enough to tease him. 

And, by the way he was reaching for things to grab (eventually settling on the bedframe and your shoulder), it was working.  You sighed in satisfaction as George called out your name, yourself still high from his fingers before, making every ounce of his voice ring like music.  Your fingertips could sense the growing tension in his erection, and that was the point at which you chose to slow and eventually stop.  

“Fuck!”  

You didn’t think you’d ever be able to taste heaven.  To be fair, you hadn’t thought of it much, you weren’t all too religious anyway.  But in any god’s name, in all of the churches and all of the temples and fuck, even every thought that ever crossed your mind you’d never get closer to the ethereal and eternal bliss than hearing George whine.  

His voice cracked right at the crest of his groan, legs quaking and hands digging into your shoulders until you had to tap out.  George stuttered and rasped and cried out, muttering curses and he desperately tried to touch himself but it wasn’t enough.  It wouldn’t be enough, he needed more.  He needed you. 

And so his gaze landed on you, low and dark, without warning pinning you back against the pillows with a cheeky, needy grin.  

You wanted to kiss him, you wanted to kiss those hungry lips so fucking badly.  But you couldn’t; he was too far, his lips too carnal and parted and all the way gone.  Those once gentle fingers were now wrapped around your wrists, holding them above your head to the bed frame just enough to keep you from breaking free, making you squirm and wiggle and moan and salivate.  

The adrenaline was almost too much, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. 

“Stay,” was all he said, lapping you up mercilessly with his gaze which made you too scared to move even if you could.  He finally loosened his grip on your wrists and still you didn’t move, keeping them above your head.  Without warning he shoved a hand between your legs, parting them effortlessly with sinful desire.  

“George... fuck.” 

Your vision was bright and hazy and messy, and so was everything you were feeling.  This time he didn’t bother with fingering you first.  He snatched the open condom package and slipped it on in a heartbeat, then turning to grab the lube and coat his cock generously until it gleamed blindingly.  

“Ah, George!” you couldn’t help crying- no, begging.  “Please, please.” 

And George laughed.  He chuckled, not even meeting your eyes, only eying your soaked pussy.  You couldn’t even feel embarrassment anymore, even if you should’ve.  All that you felt was the most aching want- no, need.  

“Please what, love?  What is it?” 

You felt your mouth go dry, falling open wordlessly in a silent plea.  

Perhaps George was reveling in making you beg so pathetically, but he himself was just as hungry and could only wait so long.  

That gave you enough satisfaction to manage a grin. 

“Fuck me, please.” 

George’s gentleness returned for just a moment when he massaged your neck with his thumb, other hand gripping his cock as you watched it enter you, and then disappear inside of you.  

But then he succumbed to his lust. 

The friction was nothing, nothing compared to the sheer bliss you felt as he filled you up completely.  It left you breathless and dazed and murmuring nothing but George’s name, eyes screwing shut at some point before opening just to see him looking equally if not more dazed.  

Such a beautiful sight, George was, when he was shaking with pleasure.  His hips jerked uncontrollably and his head was thrown back, lips never meeting as the dirtiest of words slipped from between them.  His eyes were brimming with just a hint of tears and his chest glowed in the golden sunlight.  

“George!” you cried, just as he started moving, pulling almost all the way out before sliding right back into you.  It was blissfully smooth and yet just the feeling of being so full made your toes curl.