Part 4

George eventually woke up to the gentle chirping of birds outside the window. It took him a while to notice he was lying atop of dreams chest, he was still half asleep. The air was strong with the scent of alcohol, he'd done it again, George drank too much and blacked out.

Dream slept beneath the short man peacefully, even his breathing was angelic. George found himself in a trance staring at his Dream- his Dream? His dream. He smiled. Not a creepy smile. More of an endearing smile. He enjoyed the idea of Dream being called his Dream. Not in a romantic way, right? No, George is straight. Is he?

Eventually Dream awoke. Wrapping his arms around the short brunette, the blonde rolled over on top of him. George was startled by this, but he didn't mind.

"Good morning." Dream yawned as he waited for George's response.

George was too flustered to give him a response so he just widened his smile and nodded to signal that he was also saying good morning. Dream used his fingers to move George's hair out of his eyes before he leant in.

"DREAM- WHAT ARE YOU-" George was cut off by dream.

"SORRY- it's just yesterday... you... kissed me and.. you were drunk." Dream managed to respond.

Before dream could say anything else George kissed him back. This time it was more meaningful, more passionate, this kiss lasted for a few seconds, Dream felt like he was in heaven. As their lips collided it was like sparks were flying everywhere, the kiss had emotion, it didn't matter what emotions they were as long as it meant something, something meaningful. Dream tightened his arms around George, as if he was never going to let him go. He won't and dream promised himself that.

Till death do they part.

Eventually their lips separated, "George?"

"Mhm?"

Dream was hesitant and soon asked the question that had been bugging him since the night before "Why were you drunk last night?"

George's eyes formed tears, he began to choke on his words. "I- well- when- my- I.." dream began to hush him and stroked his arm for comfort. The both sat up and Dream put his arm around George for comfort.

"Hey, I'm here let it all out you don't have to tell me just cry, cry my love." Dream instantly regretted calling George that, but that was the last with he was worried about. George needed him and Dream wasn't going to let him suffer in silence. Dream placed his hand on George's jaw and lifted his chin up to face him.

"I'm here, I'll always be here. You can tell me I've got you." He proceeded to hug George for more reassurance. George's tears rolled down his face. He didn't like showing his vulnerability to people, especially people who are close to him. He felt weak. He felt pathetic. The words he wanted to say circled his mind taunting him. He couldn't say it though, Dream would hate him for dumping his problems on him so why would he tell him. He'd be fine pretending nothing was wrong. But he'd already stared crying.

Dream could tell George was having a conflict in his mind. "George. I'm not going to judge you, I'm here to listen. Trust me, ok?" This made George more comfortable, he decided to open up.

"Well, my parents divorced and they hated each other so much that they would argue who was better at raising me. My dad was an insane man, alcoholic, arrogant, homophobic, football obsessed, asshole. My mum, she was just as bad, she was also alcoholic, she was stuck up and expected so much of me, if my grades were bad she'd threaten to kick me out. My dad wanted to raise me to be just like him, but my mum wanted to raise me to be just like her. At a young age my dad allowed me to drink and I was getting drunk regularly at 14, eventually it turned into an addiction. My mum soon found out and she kicked me out, I went to live with my father who was out all night at the pub, I remember one time he came home and smashed all the glasses, he came upstairs and... threw a shard at me. I still have the scar on my leg. I soon had a self harm addiction because I was worried the alcohol would make me just like my dad, I still have the scars and I'm ashamed of them. I really am. But soon enough I almost cut in the wrong place and it scared me, the truth is, I didn't really want to die I just wanted to be happy. Eventually I switched back to alcohol after getting a job and buying my home."

Dream sat there in shock. He didn't know how to respond. Eventually he put his hand to George's face to reassure him. "Oh George, I promise whatever happens I will always be here for you no matter what. I'm so sorry that happened to you how could someone do that to you. I can't even imagine it I love- care about you too much." Dream held him tighter, he knew George wasn't in the right mindset for him to confess. George didn't seem to notice.

George felt bittersweet in this moment, as if he had taken a huge weight off his shoulder. But at the same time he felt guilt for telling his best friend that. Everything was too much and he stared crying again, he managed to say thank you to dream before he cried his eyes out. Dream just hugged him tighter, "Hey, it's going to be ok. I'm gonna go and make you some breakfast just lay down and get some sleep you deserve it." Dream tucked the brunette in and made sure to check he was comfortable before making his way to the kitchen.

Dream picked up some eggs, bacon and sausages. Perfect. He also fished the orange juice carton form the cupboard above him. He made breakfast and cleaned the dishes for George. After he had plated the food he made his way to George's bedroom. He was still awake and he had sat up as if he were waiting for Dream to come back. Dream soon placed their plates on the bedside table. He handed George cutlery and they dug in.

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George shoved the last forkful of food into his mouth and got up to go and wash the dishes. Dream followed after him. George was at the sink cleaning his dish. "I don't know if I'm straight." He eventually said. He didn't face Dream, he just stared out the window.

"If it makes you feel better, me neither."

George turned around quickly. He wasn't shocked but it was quite a personal thing for Dream to just throw out there. Obviously he didn't mind, of course he didn't mind. He loved Dream. He... loved Dream. Dream. He loved Dream? No. Yes? George's mind was overcrowded.