900 words | george listening to spotlight for the first time
rated T
----
“Did you like it though?” Dream breathes.
“I loved it, you idiot,” George says, smiling happily. “You’re such a simp,.”
----
George blinks, breathing heavily, butterflies flicking around in his stomach. It’s not even, the way his chest rises and falls, but truly, what else could he do but stand there and struggle to breathe? Anyone would. If anything, he’s underreacting.
“Do you like it?” Dream asks, voice gentle and soft-spoken, like he’s scared.
God, does he ever.
It’s a bit of a fever dream. It’s January now, nearly one month since alcohol made their tongues loose and confessions slipped past their lips one after the other. It’s been wonderful, of course, but now George is shaking.
I wanna put you in the spotlight
Turn off the cameras, now you're all mine
All mine.
All… mine. Mine.
“George?”
“Fuck,” George breathes.
Three miserable years he spent stuck in an unrequited love, but then he landed in Florida, suddenly wrapped in an immeasurable amount of love for the first time in the seven years he and Dream have been friends.
And now his head is spinning. He’s shaking and sweating and holy shit Dream loves him.
He doesn’t even need to say the three little words, because George knows. It goes without saying. But not without singing, because those lyrics say more than Dream ever has face-to-face.
“You hate it,” Dream says, face falling.
“Wh-” George starts, cutting himself off as his gaze turns from the audio file on the computer screen to Dream’s sad golden eyes, staring up at him. “No,” he says, but not even he believes himself.
He blinks and sighs and reaches up, gently cupping Dream’s jaw. Dream shifts his chair to face George completely as George steps closer, brushing his thumbs across Dream’s cheekbones.
“Am I the first one to hear this?” George murmurs.
“Besides the producers,” Dream says, “yeah. I wanted you to hear it before the others.”
Butterflies swarm in George’s gut. Blue morpho butterflies with shades that match the hues that stained George’s heart while he was stuck in London. Clouded yellow butterflies that compliment Dream’s eyes in the same color George is restricted to seeing.
George smiles, tilting his head. “Is it about me?” he teases gently, running one hand through Dream’s hair.
“Well, who else would it be about, idiot?” Dream asks, grinning widely. One finger taps against George’s lower thigh before Dream’s hand encases George’s hip.
George’s fingers card through Dream’s hair, untangling small knots. Dream watches him carefully, gold watching brown, until they meet, and they both smile.
“Did you mean it?” George whispers.
Dream doesn’t blink. “Of course I did,” he says. “I’d never lie to you, George.”
Oh, look in your eyes like woah, they always shine bright, I see the limelight, I can't describe that glow
Make you a superstar in my mind, my mind
I'll follow, anywhere you go
Watch the door when you get home, yelling, "No paparazzi"
A superstar in my bed
“You’re so obsessed with me,” George says, cracking a small smile.
Dream only stares up at me with eyes full of genuine love, blinking slowly like cats do to say they love you. The butterflies flick in George’s gut, and his gaze flicks down to Dream’s lips.
“Why’d you say it?” he asks.
“Because,” Dream says. “I want you to feel as special with me as when I’m in front of the camera. Only, it’s just as and we’re alone.”
George smirks. “And in your bed, apparently.”
Dream scoffs. “I had to.”
“Are you going to release it?” George asks.
Dream hums, gently taking the hand against his jaw in his own. He presses a kiss to the skin, looking up at George as he does. “Probably,” he mutters. “Unless you don’t want me to.”
“I think you should,” George says gently.
Dream grins. “I’m not sure when I will.”
George brushes his hair from his eyes before leaning down to kiss between his eyes. “That’s okay,” he says. “We’ll keep it to ourselves for now.” He smiles, and Dream looks like he melts.
There are no words exchanged, but they both move towards each other, and their lips meet eagerly. Prior to this, the two had only shared a few kisses, quick and little ones. This is real.
Dream stands, gently cradling George’s jaw as hands slide down to rest on his waist. They push closer to each other despite having no room to do so, hands moving to touch and touch and touch. George’s hands slide under Dream’s sweater while Dream’s get lost in George’s hair, kissing him harder.
“Did you like it though?” Dream breathes as they pull apart, foreheads resting together.
“I loved it, you idiot,” George says, smiling happily. “You’re such a simp.”
Dream huffs. “You should hear some of my other songs.”
George doesn’t give him anymore time to talk, quickly pressing their lips together again. “I love you too,” he whispers between kisses. Dream smiles against his lips.
The way Dream spoke about him in the song was like nothing he’d ever heard the blond say before that moment. He sang about George as if he was a Greek god, worthy of devotion and adoration. As if he hung the moon, or–better yet–was the moon. The duration of the song had George feeling woozy and sick with butterflies. No one had ever, in his 26 years of existence, loved George in the way Dream does, let alone love him enough to write a song for him. A song like that, too. George is so, so in love.
what if (unrealisticslly) one of the dnf songs is ended with audio clips of dream saying "ily george" and george saying "ily dream" we would all crumble
my number one theory is because taylor is a dnfer 😄 remember when she posted a tiktok with heatwaves audio
omg trueee! she should've posted the one with "oh come on now" voiceover by accident that would be EPIC
but like "everything has changed" for example is the ultimate dnf-after the meet up song. every line dude. EVERY line. its scary. it even has reference to green eyes, freckles, "and all my walls
stood tall painted blue"??? im never getting over this
