Chapter Text
"Keep me yours and keep you mine."
Keep you mine.
NOTD, Shy Martin
The fire was back and the pain was devouring his nervous system. Dream was there, though he laid lifeless a foot away and George felt his throat raw with vocalism. Burning alive all George could think, could feel, could see was Dream. His shoulder was an open wound ripped for everyone to see. They did nothing to help, it was almost as if he wasn't seen. His voice strained and strained and George could do nothing but wilt.
His screams ripped him from the deep form of sleep and woke him within a warm embrace.
"You're alright." A hasty whisper in the warmth of a bed. Of a comfortable room. George panted and cringed from his own mind's perfectly crafted terror. It wasn't real. "Just a nightmare. I'm here."
Repeated into the mussed tendrils of George's hair, Dream whispered easily. This was new for both of them, the nightmares. Sometimes it was Dream and in the dead of night and George would sit at arm's length while Dream caught his breath. They didn't touch then, Dream was far too terrified to touch George and make whatever horror real. The brunette understood and simply spoke to distract. Words and words of nonsense to help settle the past at whatever hour of the morning. He didn't mind.
George was opposite his lover. He needed comfort from the nightmares, he needed to be grounded. Dream knew how to do that easily, holding George close while they waited for the storm to pass. Soft in caress and sweet in kisses, settled. George was grateful.
"This is ridiculous," George muttered into the warm skin of the blond's neck. "It's been two months and we're still..."
A hand played with the hair at George's nape, "I know..." A gentle whisper, "You went through a lot and your mind is still trying to process it."
"Sorry to wake you up."
"It's alright," Dream said, voice heavy with sleep. "You're more important than sleep."
George hadn't been able to say it. Those three words Dream gave with all his being. They were hard for George. Each word felt like a cage but it didn't make them any less true. He felt it. George felt every single meaning behind them and this time he wanted to say it. Here he was safe, here he knew there weren't expectations, here George knew he was loved.
Pulling Dream closer, George pressed his forehead deeper into his chest. Dream hummed and trailed easy hands up and down George's spine. He waited until his breath didn't shake and his hands felt relaxed.
"I love you."
The silence felt so loud. George counted ten miserable seconds before Dream exhaled. Relaxing until malleable within George's hold, Dream melted.
Soft puffs of air escaped the younger man but he remained dumbfounded. Finally, Dream muttered, "I don't deserve you."
George's breath respired over Dream's neck, "I think you do."
A knock on the door broke them from their fragile breaths. George felt guilty because he must've woken them up.
"Yes?" Dream said loud enough to be heard on the other side of the door.
All three fiancés stood bleary-eyed within the open door. Dream huffed but didn't move from their embrace. George turned his head before sitting up.
"Is he killing you?" Quackity rubbed vigorous circles into his eyes. "You were screaming bloody murder."
George flushed, "no. It's the nightmares." Tight arms wrapped around his own midsection. "Sorry to wake you guys up... again."
Quackity groaned while Karl presented a soft smile. Sapnap still looked half asleep.
"It's not your fault you have bad dreams," Karl easily trod the floor and climbed up on the bed much to Dream's chagrin.
"Still." George excepted the easy embrace from the taller man. Hooking his chin over the embrace. Watching over Karl's shoulder, he caught Sapnap sauntering in with Quackity in tow.
"Fuck off, Sapnap." Dream, with closed eyes, swatted off Sapnap who started to climb into the covers with his best friend.
"Cuddles," Sapnap said. George snorted as the younger man wrapped tight arms around the blond. Too tired to fight him off Dream sunk into the hold with mild profanities.
"This is what you get," Quackity yawned. "Wake us up and now we'll sleep in your bed."
"It's my bed!" Dream groaned watching Quackity steal a pillow.
George hummed when Dream pulled him back down into his warm hold. The kiss to his forehead settled what was lingering from his nightmare.
"Are there any askers?" George snorted when Quackity held out a fist for a bump.
"He coordinated your kidnapping and now you're fist-bumping him," Dream scoffed and tried to continue before all hell broke loose.
"Fuck you!" Quackity shouted, "I had a good fucking reason. You were being difficult and not to mention acting like a douche and breaking up with him! And fuck you I already apologized."
Sapnap took his and Dream's shared pillow and smacked Quackity square in the head. Muttering a slur he replaced their comfort and fell back into deep snores. George always found it amusing how Sapnap could sleep through nearly anything or fall asleep on anything.
Karl climbed under the blankets on the other side of George and shared his pillow.
"This okay?"
George shrugged and pulled Dream closer letting Karl hold him around the neck, "yeah."
In their shared space Dream whispered only to George, "Sapnap is crushing my ribs."
George grinned, "Karl is a grip away from choking me."
They both glanced down at Quackity who'd taken comfort in grasping both of their legs. A stray pillow was stuffed beneath his face and he easily appeared to be sleeping.
Dream let out an airy breath, "feel safe now, Daredevil?"
George, warmed from every angle, nodded. His kin family may be in shambles and hanging by a thread he knew that by the way he'd spoken to his parents since the race. George believed they didn't want anything to do with him and that hurt. It was like a cleave to the chest but George believed it was for the best. They'd come around one day, or they wouldn't, either way, George would honor their decision.
It was a train wreck but this family was far from disastrous. A family that meant far more than blood. He was safe here, loved, appreciated, and George returned every sentiment. Every part of his heart beat for each person crammed into Dream's queen-sized bed.
"Yeah," he breathed and kissed Dream's jawline chastely. "Safe."
"Fuck you, you selfish, arrogant, infuriating asshole!" George shoved Dream and stalked off from the drag strip.
"George," Dream tried. "She came on to me! I was rejecting her!"
"Right! Fuck off, Dream!" George pushed through several groups gathered in Las Nevadas center. He didn't have time to deal with whatever the fuck excuse Dream had. The redhead he'd been fucking before had an ass-showing miniskirt and an eye on Dream. He knew Dream looked, he wasn't going to hold that against him, he just hated that others wanted Dream. Even if he knew Dream wouldn't stray. It pissed him off.
"George!" The brunette held up a middle finger before running smack into a taller figure.
He scowled before looking up and finding a familiar face, "Tommy?"
"Gogy!"
"Don't call me that," George frowned.
"Whatever bitch," he crossed his arms. "You lived!"
The boy didn't look any different than when they'd met in the van. Although his hair was cut shorter and his jeans were black with purposeful rips. The red and white t-shirt had stayed and George found that comforting.
"So did you," George stated. "You here with Wilbur?"
"Yeah," he grinned. "For good seems like."
Tubbo popped up with an unopened drink, "uptown and Las Nevadas are joining forces!"
George snatched the bottle from his hands and read its contents. Once he caught the word alcohol he confiscated the drink for himself.
"What are you doing with this?"
"Sapnap gave it to me," Tubbo said in false innocence.
George huffed, "liar. Sapnap is underaged as well and he wouldn't give it to you."
Ranboo pulled his sunglasses off and eyed the bottle. He'd showed up out of nowhere and George decided not to question it, "oh that's the one Tommy stole when the cooler was unattended."
"Fuck you, snitch!"
"George." Dream panted finally coming up behind the brunette. "Listen, I know what-"
"Big D!" Tommy perked up while Tubbo tried to steal the beer back from George, "are you racing tonight."
"No, and stop calling me that," he said flatly. "George can we talk or you going to keep bitching..."
"No," George said to Tubbo. "You're not drinking this."
"Neither are you!" Tubbo accused childishly.
George raised a challenging brow before turning to Dream. The blond stood still while his lover pulled the chain on his belt loop. With ease, George popped the cap of the beer and watched with satisfaction as it bounced on the ground. He took a taunting sip and said, "go find something that doesn't contain alcohol."
"You're not our parent!"
Dream stifled a laugh, "George is right guys. I bet if you go bother Sapnap he'll let you drive his car."
That caught the attention of all three of them. Tubbo presented a boyish grin and darted off behind him dragging Ranboo by the elbow. Tommy scoffed and looked back at the older men.
"I thought you were cool, Dream." As he was passing Tommy added, "now you just sound like a Simp."
Dream was ready to rip into the teenage boy but George turned his chin and forced their eye contact. The blond's eyes dilated drastically and George rolled his own. This man was going to be the death of him.
"What? Not in the mood to fuck your slut tonight?"
Dream scoffed, "unless you mean yourself then no."
George pushed his cheek away and gulped down more of the acrid-tasting beer. It was bitter and heavy on his tongue. Granted, George hadn't drank since before his kidnapping so he bet any drink frilly or rocky would taste like complete shit. His tolerance was tanked for beer almost as much as it was for Dream's attitude.
"You know I dropped her right?" George brushed him off and headed for the casino.
"Yeah, looked like it on the drag strip." His tone was mocking as he made a turn down the street.
George could see it now, the uptown members mixed with Las Nevadas. They were mingled and intertwined within each other. Row and rows of cars lined the streets ready for a race. Simple drag ones that is. Quackity and Wilbur both got what they wanted out of Final Flame. The three teenagers were safe, Quackity got his slime block, and they both were much richer than before.
"George, I swear it's not what you think it is!"
George ignored dream in favor of finding a quiet place. George figured that was a better place for the fight bubbling up between them. "Your eyes on her miniskirt and your smiling eyebrows, sounds like what I think it is."
"How the fuck can my eyebrows-" Dream caught the bakery door George tried to slam in his face. He wouldn't admit it then but later the older man would think about how attractive Dream's quick reflexes were. Later when he'd let him take every inch of his skin apart and put it back together with practiced calculations. "My eyebrows can't smile!"
"I disagree."
"What the fuck! You're just picking a fight."
George whipped around and paused Dream's hasty steps, "I'm not the one that was feeling up his ex whore on the drag strip. You started it Dream!"
"She was pushed into me because Punz knew you were looking!" Dream scoffed. And George couldn't handle the mask wall between them. With belligerent grace, he reached up and ripped the fabric from his lover's mouth.
"I hate this thing," George said offhandedly. He knew he was being irrational, but fuck this he had trust issues. Dream had torn his heart to shreds the first time and he wouldn't let it happen again. "And I hate that sorry ass excuse."
"Jealousy isn't attractive, George." Hot and completed with apathy, Dream crossed his arms. It made George feel inferior when he knew there was no reason to.
"You with anyone other than me isn't attractive." George glanced at the stove next to them and toyed with the gas knob. It clicked with life and George lit the burner. Dream tilted his head in as a challenge. George held the mask over the flames, "and neither is this god damn mask."
"George!" It was too late. Sucking up the flames like a dehydrated man with water, the fabric burned. George tossed the mask unceremoniously between them and grinned at Dream's pissed-off expression. "What the fuck is your problem?"
"You, asshole!" George held his hands out as an invitation of challenge. "With your girls and your flirting and your annoying bipolar attitude. Fuck, are we together or not?"
Dream's expression faltered, "what?"
"We haven't talked about it!" George huffed, "you said you love me or whatever and I believe that but it doesn't mean you want to be together. I don't know what you want. If it's all going back to the way it was before I was shot or if you want something more."
Aggressively, George shut off the stove and stamped out Dream's burning mask. He felt guilty for causing this riff, but what else was he supposed to do. They hadn't talked about what they were. George figured they were in a relationship now but he realized Dream might not be on the same page. Dream was it for George, he didn't care to try the dating thing past him. It was useless when he didn't find anyone else attractive, but Dream was different. He could want whoever, and that worried George. He'd never been enough for anyone before so why would it be different now. George tried not to think about their fight on the stairs before Final Flame when Dream explained just how disappointing he was.
"George," Dream took slow steps towards him and George backed away. Push and pull they danced In unsettled steps until George's back met the wall. Dream caged around him and George felt his bones settle. Safety was easy here, Dream hovered around him. "I love you, Daredevil. You and only you."
"Yeah but..."
Dream held a hand next to his cheek and waited for the silent consent. The soft nod prompted a calculated grip to the jaw. "But what?"
"Is this a relationship? Boyfriends?"
Dream couldn't help but take a dig, "thought you were straight?"
"Yeah," he rolled his eyes. "Ship sailed the second you fucked me."
Dream flushed involuntarily at the abrupt risqué memory, "also thought you were innocent with a clean vocabulary."
"And I thought you were hot and not an absolute wanker," George spat. "We were both in the wrong."
"Wanker," Dream practically purred. "I love when you talk dirty to me."
Familiar hands caressed Dream's hips and pulled them together so the two were flush and desperate. George noticed Dream's bit of excitement and wondered when he'd started to turn his lover on. He chuckled at the thought.
"What?"
George looked between them, "you're hard, Loverboy."
"You're sexy when you're angry," was Dream's lewd reply. It brought George great satisfaction.
A warm palm slipped between the two to cup the blond in possession. They'd been here before, quarreling in this forsaken bakery. Fighting until blue in the face even then neither could run from the sheer attraction the other caused. It was a vicious cycle and George was determined to break it.
He hummed, "I'll let you fuck me. Up against the wall almost with entire submission if you draw the line of our relationship. Right here, right now, tell me I'm yours and your mine."
"How," Dream said hotly into George's ear, "do you want me to say it?"
"Any way you want to."
"And if I asked you to be my little whore?"
George didn't have to think, "I'll leave you here. Hard and maskless and never speak to you again."
Dream chuckled and kissed his lover's cheek, "together. I want you to be my friend, my lover, my daredevil, my side piece, my main piece, my boyfriend. I want you to be everything, George. Yes or no?"
His sigh was relief and love and affection, "yes."
Dream kissed the word off his lips and smiled into the eagerness he received. George was gripping at the blond's clothes and wasting no time to rip the chains from his belt loop. Hot and fast and quick Dream bit purple contusions onto George's bare neck. They hadn't done this since before he was in the hospital. Dream, despite his crass comments, was too scared to touch George's body. Too afraid, he would hurt him while the latter was still healing. The hesitation was still there even now. And George despised it and retaliated.
Slipping a hand into Dream's boxers he purposely squeezed. Dream groaned and pulled George's jeans down and off before wrapping one of the older man's legs around his waist. George huffed at the moment and Dream grinned with malicious satisfaction.
Three fingers were brought up and George looked at them with complete apathy.
"Mouth," Dream breathed. "Open."
George's lip quirked up, "no."
"No?"
Taking Dream's fingers soft between his own he brought them up to the other's mouth. Both brows met Dream's hairline as George pressed his bottom lip down and pressed Dream's own fingers into his mouth.
"Good boy," George teased. Brown eyes watched the realization dawn on the other then the unmistakable groan that escaped him. Fuck you George thought. Dream acted as if he was invincible but George knew he himself was the differing variant.
With a few words, George knew he could take the other man to his knees, bottom or not. George owned Dream and he intended for it to stay that way. Never over the man's consent, he was his own person, but George knew who Dream belonged to now. And Vise Versa.
George gasped at the first intrusion. They'd done this before. Many times and George still wasn't used to the feeling. The float of the pleasure, of the bite of pain, of Dream whispering encouragements as he added another finger. It was always too much and never enough.
"You're so beautiful," Dream gushed against his lover's cheek. "I think about you too much."
"Dream," the brunette dropped his head against the wall and welcomed Dream's sweet attack. Lips felt like fire against his skin and it nearly burned him alive. Singed with affection George pulled Dream closer. Pulled at his hair. Scraped up his back beneath his shirt. "Shut up and fuck me already."
He chuckled, "okay."
Retracting his three fingers George felt empty, aching with loss. Dream wasted no time to pull himself free. A hand came up to George's mouth to claim a substitute for lubricant and George complied this time. Dream pressed up against his lover a moment later. George took in a clipped breath as the other pressed forward.
George whimpered and dug his fingers into Dream's skin. The latter groaned at the feeling holding still for longer than entirely necessary.
"Okay?" Soft kisses trailed from his flushed cheeks down and over where his bullet wound would forever remain. "Pain?"
"No," George muttered pressing his forehead to Dream's temple. "I'm okay."
Dream's soft grin made a trickling appearance a moment later. Easy over his lips George wanted to count the freckles littered on his nose but the lust between them won out when he said, "move."
George dropped his head back at the sudden action. It was soft and shallow but George was already frustrated. Dream was being so damn sweet and careful it was pissing the brunette off more than the girl in the mini skirt.
The hands-on Dream's back snaked down to his hips and yanked him forward, hard. Dream huffed a groan deep and unapologetic.
"George?"
"We both know I'm not fragile," George hissed. "So stop treating me like you'll break me!"
That seemed to snap Dream out of his ease because the next movement sent George's head back to clunk into the wall. It was pleasure beyond every experience he'd had before. Nothing compared to Dream.
Dream and his hot hands, his lips, his body. George knew he'd be forever obsessed with his lover. Enraptured and held captive by those green eyes. The idiotic fights. Their push and pull. He knew he'd want it forever. To wake in the morning by Dream's soft caress. To kiss him. To ride in his car. George would never give this up.
Both hands pulled Dream by the jawline to kiss words into his lips, "I love you."
Dream shoved them closer, as if that was possible, "I love you too."
It didn't last long, this feeling never did. There was an edge Dream was pushing for and George was a second from it. Higher and higher he floated into the pleasure before Dream whispered in his ear.
"Give me control, George." The older man groaned. "Let go."
He couldn't hold back from the feeling, so he easily gave in, letting go between them. Dream pushed forward and stuttered a second later, following George down the rabbit hole.
It was messy and sweaty and uncomfortable but George didn't give a fuck. He pulled Dream back in for a breathless kiss and smiled.
Pulling out slowly Dream said, "we're supposed to start Light Up in ten minutes."
George chuckled, "you look like you just had sex"
Dream pampered kisses over George's collar bones, "so do you."
"Mine," he sighed then rephrased for better understanding, "you're mine."
"Yes, daredevil," Dream reassured. "I'm yours."
George smiled, "Good. We need to clean up now, cause I want to car surf."
Dream set George's shaking leg back down on the floor and glared, "you have a god damn death wish."
Stood at the edge of Las Nevadas George looked out to the empty street. Home. That's what he thought when he looked out. The people, the life, the love, everything here was home.
"Hey, um George?" The voice was familiar and it still put a chill in his spine. It haunted his dreams.
Turning slowly he was met with a maskless Technoblade. The scars were the first thing he noticed. Burns that looked almost like lightly tracked up from his chin to his left temple. It was from Hell Fire, George tried not to look at them too long. Instead, he focused on the pink hair and the fake fangs.
"Look, I know what I did to you wasn't okay. I wasn't in the right headspace and it was a lot."
George tilted his head and nodded, "and?"
"I wanted to apologize," Technoblade shifted on his feet. "Dream and Big Q said I was welcome back but I just wanted to know your opinion. I won't be back in the house I have a friend that wants to take me in but..."
George wanted to say no but out of the corner of his eye, he caught Dream's uneasy frown. Despite their past, they used to be friends and George hated to take away a second chance to anyone. He shrugged.
"Just don't kidnap and torture me again."
"Right," Technoblade chuckled awkwardly. "Okay. Sure, thanks um."
George waved him off and watched him head for someone else's car. Dream, with a new mask in hand, patted Technoblade's shoulder with a grin and came over. George rolled his eyes.
"Thank you," Dream said.
"As long as he stays out of my way I don't care what he does here."
Dream had the puppy look again. Like everything in his heart was appearing on his cheeks. George hated it almost as much as he loved it.
"Oh yeah!" Reaching into his pocket Dream presented George's white glasses. "Patches and Cat were fighting over them before we left. And I forgot to give them to you."
George let his lover place the shades easily in his hair and rewarded him with a kiss. It was interrupted a moment too soon.
"Hey! Love birds!" Sapnap called from behind them. "We going or not!"
Dream huffed and raised an arm, "Light it up!"
Like the first time George visited Las Nevadas, every car on the street revved to life. LED lights illuminated every inch of asphalt and metal vehicles. Music blasted and erupted from every corner.
George left Dream to his own car, brand new after Final Flame. It was a surprise George had a few weeks ago. He'd pulled Sapnap aside and asked what Dream had always wanted in a car, then made it reality. It didn't even put a dent in his fortune. George expressed that in depth to Sapnap just to cause turmoil.
George hopped Karl's Midnight purple Mitsubishi Eclipse and let his hand dance of the airwaves. Karl popped up the cartoonish lights and hollered into the night air.
Freedom.
George was finally free. There was no more press, no more pressure to be perfect, no expectations. The expensive suits and high-class parties were finally put to rest. Here all George had to do was be himself, he didn't have to be found. Didn't hat to be anyone at all. Here George could fall and fly and breath and live the way he wanted to.
Dream's car pulled up next to Karl's and a spike of adrenaline pumped through his veins. As if he could read his mind, Karl laughed.
"Don't fall," the other man warned.
George looked to Dream who was driving steady into the tunnel, "too late."
"You can go!" Karl hollered. "Live it up, George!"
With the window rolled down George climbed up and out of it. The road sped beneath them too fast to comprehend and George felt his gut drop. Low and ravenous his heart beat within its cage.
Holding on to Karl's car George stretched his foot over the gap and rested it on Dream's brand new Jet black Toyota. The vehicle rumbled beneath his foot and sent shivers up George's tense spine. With great hesitation, George pushed himself stood balanced between two cars. They had to be going at least 90 mph, George wished it was faster.
The tunnel was just high enough for George to reach for. Just high enough not to take his neck.
The wind threatened to topple him, but he wasn't here for long. In a moment he'd easily slide through Dream's window and live down the adrenaline.
George just needed it for a second.
Just the breath of life that being on the edge of death itself brought. Closing his eyes and reaching out his arms he took in the moment and welcomed freedom. Absolute control.
The air nipped his nose with the feeling of home and George chuckled. Because, yes, the life of car racing and burnouts would forever feel like...
"Home," he whispered.
And when the moment was over he fell into a new window and welcomed the warm embrace of safety.