Chapter Text
There’s a folder, incredibly locked down in the deep archives of Dream’s computer. It’s locked down so deep, the chances of him accidentally leaking it are so slim, but even that doesn’t entirely remove the anxiety he feels when he checks and double checks before a stream. Which means, that folder—and all of its juicy little contents—are always on his mind when he’s streaming with George.
Especially because that folder is filled with just George.
It’s George when he smiles in that shy secretive way, hinting he has a story or some hidden gem he refuses to share. It’s snapshots of George looking down, hooded eyes and teeth biting into a plump lower lip.
There’s pictures of George with his lips parted in various ways, eyes closed, open, somewhere in between, cheeks flushed, hair a mess—fuck, there’s a whole series of screenshots dedicated to George’s wet hair.
It’s in the rare desperate moments, when Dream is unable to resist any longer—guilt and shame flooding him in equal parts but less so than the overwhelming lust coursing through him—that he gives in.
The strength of his hunger is what sends fingers plunging beneath layers of clothing, taking himself in a firm grip, and quick strokes—George’s name a whisper blended into the stream of curses and quietly bitten back moans when he comes.
While that is shameful in and of itself, what Dream knows makes it all the worse, is how he talks a litany of filth to the pictures—knowing he could never say any of it to George’s real face. Everything from: “That’s it baby, fuck you take my dick so good,” to “Fuck, I’m gonna cum on those perfect lips of yours, and all over that pretty fuckin’ face.”
And it’s with that folder in mind that everything unravels.
Discord logs their current call at around four hours and fifty-three minutes, not all that long for them, but George is being particularly feisty today—in a way that has Dream twitching in his seat.
“I just don’t want to do it.” George answers honestly. He’d spent the better part of a half hour begging Dream to edit George’s video for him, again.
“Woooow,” came Sapnap’s sarcastic rejoinder. “And nobody was surprised.”
“Idiot, no one asked you,” George snapped back.
“Because you know I’d never do it. Dream’s the simp, not me.”
“Oh, you’re a simp alright. Just not for George,” Dream finally cut in.
George’s laughter rings out in high screeches, while Sapnap makes some kind of attempt at a flustered reply—but truthfully, there’s no denying the power of Karl Jacobs.
“And fine, but it’s going to cost you.” Dream sighs, knowing he’s going to get an earful from Sapnap later about how he needs to stop letting George walk all over him.
“Cost me? What’s it going to cost me?”
The posh way George enunciates his vowels has such a grip on Dream, fogging his brain in a way that is very dangerous. It makes him sloppy.
“I dunno. Something. Probably, well okay listen, we can just leave it open and figure something out for the future?” Dream is hoping his tone coneys ‘casual’ but the reality is…having an IOU from George was driving him a little wild with ideas.
“I don’t know if I like the sound of that. Why don’t you just decide something now?” George groans.
“Because I can’t—I literally can’t think of anything right now. Besides, you should decide if—like—it’s more work to just edit the thing yourself or if you know, you want to owe me some kind of favour later on.”
Dream dribbles his fingers on his legs nervously, where he knows the sound won’t betray him.
“Uuuugh, this is so annoying.” George whines but then eventually gives in. “Fine. Fine, I’ll owe you one.”
“I’m leaving this bullshit,” Sapnap sighs obnoxiously, reminding them that he’s still there to witness their…whatever this was. Seconds later, Discord sends a ping notification signalling someone has left the call, leaving them to their planning.
“Are you gonna upload it to the drive?” Dream prompts, already navigating his way there.
“Already done. I literally uploaded it like twenty minutes ago.” There’s a grin on George’s face, which Dream sees on cam and immediately screenshots.
Moving on instinct, he renames the picture and clicks open his George file, storing it in there for later.
“Before I even agreed to it?!”
“Well yeah, I knew you would.”
“George!” Dream gasps, astonished and a little turned on by George’s audacity.
There’s laughter on the other end of the call, but it’s warm and wraps around Dream like a comforting hug—despite its mocking edge.
“Ugh, you’re literally the worst.”
“Witterawy,” George teases.
“Oh that reminds me, I have some pics of the next three merch launches if you want to give those a look over? I’ll toss them in the same place if you just want to make up whatever and send them back.”
Dream quickly moves his mouse between screens, half his mind on the task, the other half still on George’s smile and sleepy eyes.
“Does this count as filling my IOU?”
“Hell no. To be fair, you already agreed to this before. You’re still going to owe me one.”
There’s a pause and silence as George goes through the folder with a quick eye.
“Uhm, Dream…?” George’s voice is slightly off, so Dream turns his attention to the camera.
Pink cheeks greet him, and a lip bite that has Dream in a literal chokehold.
“Mm?”
“I…I think you sent me the wrong thing.” There’s a quiver in George’s voice that Dream can’t quite figure out, but he doesn’t dig too deep into it.
Because, as he clicks over to their shared drive, Dream sees the problem.
He’s sent George the file.
The George file.
Dream sent George the one thing guaranteed to change everything between them, because there is no reasonable explanation for the mass amounts of perfectly timed screenshots of his best friend.
So Dream does the only thing he can do. He hits the exit button on the discord call and logs out.