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Dream was stunning-- a sight to see. George could not believe how lucky he was to be here-- here in Dream’s embrace. It was so warm, and it smelled of calming scents: petrichor was a prevalent one. You’re probably wondering how they got here. Well, it all started with…
POV: Dream
I was in love with my best friend, but he (nor I) didn’t know that until I took a quiz that said, “Am I in love with my best friend” live in front of thousands of people. It said I was a little bit, and if I kept going like this, my feelings would get deeper for him! Oops. People zeroed in on me and asked if I was gay; I shrugged. There was silence. In seconds, it was trended on Twitter. “DNF Is real?” One post said, “Well, it’s real when I want it to be real and it’s not when I don’t. Hope this helps <3”
That night, I stared at my ceiling; it was really hot in Florida that week for some reason, and the news said there was a heatwave. Strange. I rolled over and looked at my phone, at the photo of George I had on the lock screen… I thought of earlier that day when I took that quiz. Was I really in love with my best friend, or was I just pretending that I was for my audience? It was supposed to be a joke, and yet, sometimes I wondered if it was really a joke at all. All I knew was that George was very beautiful and I was sure he smelled very good.
Pov: patches
My stupid owner was calling his “best friend”, Gogy, or whatever he was called. Dream kept smiling whenever he talked, and I left them playing Minecraft together for hours. Gogy is a dick; he always distracts Dream and he forgets to feed me my wet food on time :///. Not. Poggers. Brother. I can’t believe he would do this to me.
My bitch ass of an owner started talking about meeting with this punk, “Gogy.” Loser doesn’t even make sense with his accent, but I know one thing: If I get to Gogy first, we won’t have this problem anymore. It’s time to put the operation “Eliminate Gogy” into action. The pog would soon be all mine. So would the wet food. On-time.
POV: Gogy
I put on my favorite Dream merch, the hoodie. It was so green and ugly and had a giant smile on it, and whenever I looked at it I smiled, too. I put in my earbuds and listened to Mask by Dream and Mask by Dream: Sus Version. I couldn’t help but blush a little when the second song came on. How would the fans react if they knew?! Thankfully, they would never know. I parked outside Dream’s house and told him I was here.
Me: hey im here :)
Dream: owo come in!!! ///
Me: okie :3
I was so giddy and realized that Sus Version was on again. Both had been on loop the whole time. I stepped past the threshold of the house with the spare key he’d given me. I sighed. What if he finds out I’ve been homeless this whole time? I’ve been living in the park just downtown. What if he finds out I’m just a fraud? I took a shower in the porta-potties with the weird lemon-looking water that kept falling on my head. Tasted weird, but it was fine. I smell wonderful now. I called out, “Hey, honey, I’m home~” I called, trying to be funny. Dream’s head peeked around the corner, and I noticed he had a small blush on the face. Huh, was he looking at something before I came..?
“Hey, Gogy!” He smiled. Suddenly, a flash of brownish-grayish-whitish-orangish-bluish-blackish-reddish-purplish something flashed by me and latched onto my face and I screamed.
“HELP!” I screamed. Dream only laughed.
“He don’t bite.”
“YES HE DO GET YO FUCKIN DOG BITCH.”
Eventually, the devil cat got off of my face. I was scarred and bleeding but it was okay. Dream took me around the house and gave me a little tour. The house was fucking huge. He showed me his bedroom too (AN: !!! WHAT OMG YALL ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ) and it had nothing in it. It was empty. There weren’t even bedsheets on the mattress… He probably pissed on them and had to wash them. Where was his computer? Then, he took me to the office. There it was. Finally, he showed me where I was staying. There were bedsheets on this bed thankfully. He proceeded to lead me out of the bedroom and to the kitchen where he pulled out a first aid kit sexily. He opened it and got me bandaids.
“Here, let me patch that up for you--heh, get it, patch…” Dream’s laugh trailed off, and he picked up a nearby washcloth, bringing it up to my cheek. He was just cleaning my wounds, I tried to remind myself, but I couldn’t stop myself from blushing even more. He’s really fucking hot, I thought to myself, which did not make the situation any better. I wondered if Dream thought my Dream Brand Smiley Face Hoodie In Bright Green was also sexy or not. Maybe he thought I was... uggo mode. No way, of course not!
“Ow, that stings,” I said, as the wet cloth brushed over the largest cut on my cheek.
“This is… just water.” Dream looked confused. He had a lot of freckles, and his eyes were very, very green, just like my hoodie. “Also, you smell… kind of like piss. What happened to you?”
Did Dream not think the piss smell was hot? Fuck, I might’ve misjudged his tastes.
“Really big dog peed on me. Super big. At least fifteen feet tall.”
“Oh, LMAO, that makes sense.” Dream kept cleaning off my face, leaning even closer. His nose scrunched up very cutely, although maybe that was because of the piss smell still clinging to me. Would Dream be upset, knowing that I sullied his hoodie? Hopefully not…
He put the bandages on afterward, and I felt much better. He even kissed one of the bandages before putting it on (AN: !!!! OMG), saying that the power of love would help it get better quicker. I was totally in love with him at this point.
Suddenly, somebody came into the bathroom.
“Hey, uhh, Dream-- I was-- uhh-- wondering if you and your-- uhh, boyfriend, Gogy-- would join me in my Homestuck-themed jet plane to go to the White house. I and my besties in the Oval Office would like to award you with the “Best Piss” award. It would be, like-- uhh-- super ‘poggers’ of you, or whatever the kids say now.” Dream and Gogy looked at All Genders and Sexualities Obama ( authors note!!! All genders and sexualities obama sounds like clone high jfk but in a cool way!!!! Authors note over) in amazement. Never once had they thought about being good enough to be awarded the presidential “Best Piss” award.
“We would be honoured, Mr. Obama.” Gogy-wogy said to Obama with shaped hearts in his eyes. Gogy was so amazed by him that he just stared in awe after that.
“So-- uhh-- let’s go! My daughters, Sasha and-- uhh-- Malia, would love to have you for dinner. We are actually part of a cannibal commune and want to eat you with Armie Hammer. ( authors note!!!! I just watched call me by your name and armie is soooo cute!!!!! Authors note over!!!!)
“That sounds amazing! We are also into hanging out with Armie Hammer the ( alleged ) cannibal,” Dream replied. Then both of them promptly blacked out from the neurotoxins ( authors note Portal is such a good game!!!! Authors note over!!!).
Obama skipped into his ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* OWOcopter✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* with his two bestiest-westiest fwiends gwogy and dweam minecwaft. They went to da white house and saw all the super cool Pwesidential things. Then Mw. Obama ated them :3 (AN: nuuuu Just kidding ahahahaha (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*✲ﾟ*｡⋆) They had a nice dinner!! But Dweam made fun of Mw. Obama’s silly little JFK voice and got ejectededed from his seat landing outside in da gawbage cans.
When they got home, Dream and George slammed the door closed. George was the first to speak, breathing heavily.
“We are in agreement that taking those hallucinogenic mushrooms was a bad idea, right?” Breathless, Dream could only nod as he slid to the floor in defeat.
“What can you remember? Where does reality split from the imagination?” Dream asked, desperate. George reached for his face, where no bandages remained. No pain, no soreness.
“I think… all of it was a dream, Dream,” George gasped, collapsing beside his friend. “But… but--” he bit his lip, unsure if he should continue. Dream was patient, and they sat in silence for a few more minutes. The tik of the clock was the only sound that remained, along with the steady tapping of Dream’s fingers on the hardwood floor.
“But, what?” the man beside him finally asked, green orbs gleaming in the soft moonlight that shafted through the window blinds.
“You’re gonna say I’m stupid, dude,” George groaned, putting his face in his hands and turning away. Dream laughed and gave him a hearty slap on the back.
“I’ll say it now, too, if it makes you feel any better,” he chuckled, giving George’s arm one good ol’ friendly punch, trying to alleviate the tension.
The white boy took a deep breath, turned toward Dream, then looked back out the window, contemplative. “What if… what if Dreamnotfound was… I don’t know, what if it had some sort of validity?”
The silence was deafening.
“What do you mean?” came the gentle question from beside him. A warm hand gently clasped around his colder, sweatier one. Dream didn’t seem to mind, but the stress made his hands sweat even more.
“What if I liked you, like, as more than a friend. What if I was gay, Dream? What if I was gay, huh? What would you say? What would you do? Kick me out? Call me a slur? Beat me up? I’m already homeless! What if--”
And then a warm pair of lips shut him up. He made a slurping noise, and Dream slapped him on the wrist. Surprised by the contact, George jumped away, golden-brown orbs wide in astonishment.
“Did-- was that a prank?” Dream asked abruptly, indignantly. He went to stand up, face completely red, but George reached a hand out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back down. When met only with the confused gaze of his best friend and pal for life and unable to form words, George simply shook his head and, with slight hesitation but spurred on by the hurt that shone in the green orbs of his pal, he went back in with fervor.
Dream was warm, his arm strong under George’s grip as they embraced, still pressed in a kiss. George could feel his heartbeat thudding, making him lightheaded, and yet, he didn’t separate to get air, just kept going. He wondered how long he was waiting for this, and just how long he had been in love with his best friend--although he didn’t know quite what they were anymore.
Just for a moment, George pulled back, the depth of Dream’s green orbs greeting him, green like the weed they smoked, or a villager’s emeralds in Minecraft. He was angelic, too perfect for the mortal planes. He kissed him again, and again.
He couldn’t breathe when he was with Dream.
But like, he really couldn’t breathe. What was going on?
“... Hey George?” Dream asked, as he started to feel his throat closing up. Oh shit, he was allergic to cats, he forgot. Deathly allergic. When he was a wee babe, only three months old, he licked a cat and went into a coma. He might go into a coma again--
“Call the… amberlamps…”
George died immediately.
Dreamnotfound was real, but only for a moment. It’s over. Piss-coated George is not real. #RIPGEORGE trended on Twitter for two weeks