Chereads / Time With You (DreamNotFound Fanfic) / Chapter 5 - Chapter Three.2 - Positions

Chapter 5 - Chapter Three.2 - Positions

TW: Panic Attacks, blood warning, light swearing

Sleepover Arc

"So... That's what happened?" Wilbur looked between Karl and Nick who separated from each other across the living room. George's mom didn't honestly care about what was going on. She just liked to tease the boys about it. Because, even though she was a woman in her forties she could still be cool.

She was curled up on one side of the couch just chilling there. Watching the boys as they interacted with each other. Tommy stood next to Ranboo and Tubbo. Eret and Fundy sat down on the floor next to each other. Wilbur sat down on the floor, Techno sat down on the couch beside him. And lastly, Dream and George who were pressed back to stomach with eachother, Dream being behind George, holding onto him tightly. His mom didn't big them, because she has never seen them try to do anything more than hug. More over, she has never even see them get caught in that moment where they just stare at each other. It was not odd, as they were close best friends and that's all it was.

Everyone just sat there.

The TV was the only thing that wad making a noise. "Don't go out side. We repeat, hostile weather out there." They spoke, "Our weather man Luis had walked out into the rain, and he said that even with his suit on it felt like bullets slamming into your skin. Keep everyone inside and away from the windows. We will be back in 5 minuets to update you on the storm." Ads started to play after the weatherman stopped talking.

"So... What are we going to do now?" Wilbur voice filled the quiet, people filled room. There was a sigh, "I don't know..." George leaned against Clay and closed his eyes. Just like in a movie where everything gets quiet. There was thunder that rubbled in the air and then a loud crack of lightening.

The power went out.

Clay pressed his face into George's neck, tightening his arms around him. To be honest it was at this point that George could not breath. He could feel the younger male shaking.

Lights slowly flicked on in the room. Emitting from the lanterns and flashlights that his mom and his two other house mates he calls a sister and his other best friends sister. Had brought in from the garage. "Alright, I think that everyone should grab their stuff and move down to the basement." George's mom got up from off of the couch and started handing flashlights to the boys. Because nobody was smart enough to say that they had smart phones.

Soon enough there things were laid out down stairs. To be honest the downstairs didn't look any different from the upstairs living room. Except it was smaller, had no windows, and it was quite empty other than two couches. It didn't take long for everyone to get comfortable again. Just this time, Clay had music at full blast playing in his ears. George had come up with that one and he was kinda proud of it. Though, he wasn't happy that this would ruin his hearing.

Everyone was in their little groups, snuggled together pretty much. "I think that everyone should go to sleep. If anything happeneds we will be safe. I promise." That was reassuring to the everyone.

Soon everyone was a sleep.

Except for Clay.

The music was loud enough to block out the storm, but it was also loud enough to keep him awake. He slowly got up and walked into the bathroom that was connected to the living room. He turned the bathroom light on after he closed the bathroom door as to not wake the others.

Looking up at the ceiling and sighing, he closed his eyes and hugged himself.

Clay's throat began to feel dry and his hands became clammy. He could feel his whole body heat up. His hands started to violently as if someone was shaking them for him. The works started to spin, he could feel himself fall, but he never got the ground. He never fell. His body wasn't perfectly still because he was shaking, but he still was sitting up against the wall.

He wanted nothing more than to scream at the top of his lungs and to plainly rip something apart. But he couldn't, this wasn't his house.

This was George's house...

George..

At the mere thought of his best friend, his eyes filled to the brim with tears. He felt hopeless... He can't cope without someone beside him and that someone is always George. He feels like he can't over come his emotions without him. George helps him over come them. He knows what to do, and he doesn't even have to do much. He just has to be there with his arms wrapped around him, hugging him. It calmed him down to have him there doing that. Heaven must've know what he wanted, or what he needed.

But the repercussions of that made Clay want to have that shoulder there to support him. He knew that it wasn't good to depend on someone to be there for him at anytime... But that's how it was.

It made him feel weak.

It made him feel useless.

It made him feel angry.

Clay clentched his hands into fists, curling himself into a little ball. Bruising his face in his knees.

If the football players found him like this then they would laugh in his face... Except for Sapnap. Anyone else and his reputation would be ruined if someone from school saw him crying. Not that he even cared about having a good reputation or not. It was a pain having to be bugged by people over and over again.

He held back the urge to scream, loudly. His hands ranked though his hair, his blue eyes were tightly squeezed shut. In a fit of rage he hit his elbow against the wall. That caused a empty bottle of perfume to fall onto the ground and smash. He didn't hear it because the music that he had blasting into his ears.

With the bang and the crash that awoke some of the people who were sleeping. One stayed awake, the others didn't care.

There was a knock on the bathroom door, Clay couldn't hear it.

Clay had been so preoccupied with his mind that he had forgotten that the power had gone out. The power was back on now.

The lighter brown haired male knocked on the door again. But after receiving no answer he twisted the handle to find that it was unlocked. He pushed the door open, Clay felt something brush against his foot and his eyes snapped open. In surprise he scooted away from the door, his hand pressed into the glass that laid smashed on the floor. He looked up at the person who opened the door.

It was Fundy.

Clay pulled out his ear bud, before he noticed it Fundy was already looking at his hand. In a rush he was picking up that towel that laid on the vanity, grabbing Clay's hand and pressing it against it.

"W-w-what a-are you... " He looked down at his hand to find it bleeding. Looking beside him he saw glass shards smeared with blood. His stomach about flew out of his mouth. He held it in. "Are you okay? What's going on?" Fundy spoke softly, he looked very sincere about it. Clay bit his lip a little worried, he was having a mental break down. "I'm okay, but I don't know what happened." He felt numb.

In a slit second Fundy had his arms wrapped around the blond haired boy. "I know I'm not who you want... But if you want someone I can go get them for you." He whispered softly into Clay's ear, kinda scaring him.

He had thought about it. Was it George or was it just hugs that he needed to get though with his mental problems? Without anymore thought he wrapped his arms around Fundy, and only then did he noticed that his hand kinda hurt. Looking at it, there was a piece of glass pressed into his hand. His palm was covered in blood. "I'm... Okay."

He pulled it out.

Without a doubt it was George and hugs. It made no sense do him at all. He didn't mind when Fundy hugged him, yet he really only just met the sweet teenage boy.

"It stopped raining out just about an hour ago. I know that, because I got up about an hour ago and checked." Clay could tell that Fundy was trying to calm him down. It was kinda working. But he wasn't that comfortable with being hugged by him either.

"If you... Need me to go and get someone else, I will." Fundy spoke softly, backing up from the hug slowly. As much as he didn't want to say it, he wanted to say George. George was really the only one who he wanted. But... He just couldn't say his name, there was so much that he would need do. In trying to break the need for George. So that he could function by himself. He needed to begin to do this by himself, he didn't wanna be like this forever. He didn't wanna have his wife see him like this. It didn't matter who or what she did as a job. He didn't want her to have him deal with him. Clay didn't want to rely on the older darker brown hair. It had been years since George had started helping him out with his problems... He just... Didn't, he couldn't rely on him so much. This hasn't been the first thoughts of this. He has thought about this before.

"I need George." Those words slipped though Clay's mouth without him even knowing. Fundy had figured that he was going to say George. He noticed that they had a close bond.

Fundy pulled away from Clay and walked out the open bathroom door.

Clay still hadn't noticed what he had asked for. His mind was fogy, he felt numb, that was mixed with tiredness.

It barely hit him when he saw George standing in the doorway. Fundy was standing beside him, he was carrying a broom. Clay looked up at both of them with dark eyes. The older rushed over, grabbing the towel off of the vanity and pressed it against Clay's hand.

-

It was about 3 in the morning. Pretty much everyone had gone back to sleep at this point, either that or they were trying to.

Fundy had gone back to sleep, Clay had passed out on the couch, and George was standing outside. For a sleepover it had been a little bit too much for the male. It didn't matter to him that he wasn't supposed to be outside. He just didn't want to be inside. There was a part of him that knew, being outside at this time was a bit reckless. But he didn't care.

He looked up at the moon, it was bright and full. George couldn't help but hold back a small smile. It was beautiful.

"George..."

George heard his name being whispered. He looked over in the direction.

"Ooh.. George..." He turned his head in the opposite direction. "Over here George..." The whisper was taunting him. He spun around in a circle.

"What do you want?" He asked the whispers. "What do you want?" He could feel his heart pound out of his chest. He squeezed his eyes shut placing his hands against his head.

"What do you want?!" George let out a ear piercing scream. He felt warm, very warm. His heart beat was trapped, pounding in his ears. Soft foot steps sounded around him. Slowly he opened his eyes, he looked around him, pressing his back against the wall. "What do you want?! What do you want?!"

It was like he was looking in to a mirror. Slowly, it started to rain again, but it wasn't hard.

In front of him stood... Himself.

"Who are you?" He asked in a shaky voice. "I am you." It was like he was just talking to himself.

"What do you want?" The figure -himself- just stood there. Looking at him, "What do you want?" He asked again.

A small smile made its way onto his face. "What do you want?" George was caught in a question he didn't know how to answer. His reflection, or whatever you are going to call it. Pushed his hands up against the wall next to his face. "Answer me! What do you want!? What do you want?!"

His voice was loud and booming, as he screamed. George was quite frankly scared of himself.

"George!"

"George!"

"George, wake up!"

George sat up gasping for air. He was holding his chest. Looking in front of him he just saw Clay. "George... Your very hot." He felt hands run up and down his arms. It was an odd feeling, he was confused about what had just happened. Why was he dreaming about himself? "Are you okay?" Clay pushed a hand against his forehead. George made eye contact with him, in his eyes he could see himself.

"Get off of me!" He pushed Clay away from him, getting onto his feet. "Stay away from me."

The blond haired male was hurt, sad and confused. "George, it's me Clay." He got up from the ground and began walking over to him. George walked backwards away from him. "Stay-stay away from me!" Clay just continued to walk towards him without hesitation. "It's just me, I won't hurt you." He tried to use the softest voice he could on the dark haired male but it didn't do anything to calm him down. In a few more steps George had his back pressed against the wall, Clay was only a few steps in front of him.

"It's just me George. You don't need to be scared. I'd never hurt you." George pushed him away. "Yes you would! You always hurt me!"

"I hate you!" He screamed at the blond. There was no reason for George to hate Clay at all. "I hate you so much! Leave me one!"

George felt this cool feeling wash over him. It was... Cold, yet refreshing. It felt kinda nice, yet not nice at all.

He opened his eyes slowly, looking above him seeing everyone looking down at him. Well... Mostly everyone.

"George are you okay?" His mother frantically rushed to his side. Holding the sides of his face making him look up at her. The sound of her voice proved that she was way past the normal state of worry.

Everyone sighed when George nodded his head. "You were screaming. Did the nightmare come back again?" Slowly, he nodded his head again. His throat feeling to dry to work. "W... W.. Wat..er.. " George tried his best to say the word in one go but it hurt. His saliva was non existent. "Water. Karl go get him some water." His mom demanded in a soft tone. Karl quickly ran off to go get the glass of water George needed.

Once he got the water he was able to speak. "Are you okay now?" His mother asked him again, running her thumb against his cheek.

"I am... And I'm sorry for waking everyone up." It was kinda embarrassing being the one with all the attention in the room. Everyone to be honest didn't care since it was 9 o'clock in the morning. George kinda acted as a make shift alarm clock that screamed.

They spread apart from each other moving to different places across the room. "Was there anything different about the dream?" His mother asked making eye contact with him. To be honest... George didn't remember any part of the dream. "I don't remember it..." She smiled softly and patted the couch lightly, "Well, that's alright." She stood up and walked off into the kitchen. George lifted his legs over the side of the couch and looked at the floor.

What was the dream about?

At this point, it was over and done with. He didn't care what the dream was about as it was because it made everything seem crazy. Maybe George was crazy? But he wasn't crazy at all, that was the thing.

George got up onto his feet and made his way up stairs. Walking into his bedroom, he closed and locked the door behind him. Slowly, he peeled off the sweaty clothes that he had on, off. Dropping them onto the floor figuring he was going to deal with them later.

Not even noticing the figure laying on his bed.

He walked into the bathroom, noticing right away that his eyes were bloodshot. He looked at himself and thought that he looked ugly.

He touched his chest.

"You look beautiful." He smiled at himself in the mirror staring right back at his reflection.

He closed the bathroom door and locked it. There was this silence that suited his taste very much. He walked over to the shower and turned it on, making sure that it was the perfect temperature for him before getting in.

He washed himself off, scrubbing any if the gross residue that was left on his skin. George washed his hair and his face. After he got out he made sure to dry himself off and brush his teeth so his breath didn't stink.

When that was all done he hung up the towel he used to dry himself off with, over the shower doors. "George what are you going to wear today?" He asked himself as he walked out of the bathroom and into his bedroom. The light was turned off so he walked over to turn it on. Then he walked over to his closet.

The guys were going go stay over again, they had talked about it on Friday to have them stay over the whole weekend and do things together. So, George reached in his closet and pulled out a pair of black boxers, some black sweatpants, a baby blue t-shirt and a green sweatshirt... That wasn't even his.

"You know that's mine right?" George spun around and screamed, covering his front from the other person in the room. He looked over at the bed and saw Clay sitting on the edge. George's face became right red, "W-were you there the whole time?" Normally Clay was the shy one. But this time it was George's turn. "Yeah, I have been here this whole time." The older male let out a soft groan.

"Your perverted." He relaxed knowing it was just Clay. So, George turned around and faced his closest, before dropping everything into he ground. This was not the first time changing infront of Clay like this. But he would have liked to know first so thT he didn't see anything.

"George, last night you were screaming my name." George pulled on his boxers, "And normally I would take that as a good thing... But, you said over and over again that you hated me."

The older male froze.

That was the new part in his dream.

"I don't hate you." He said as he pulled on the t-shirt. "I just... Have nightmares and I say things that I never mean." The male turned around to find Clay standing over him. He was a good head taller than him. They looked at each other contently, before Clay pulled the sweatshirt that he had on off. "Put this on. It smells like me again." George put it on, laughing at the younger male and his silly ways. George handed Clay had green sweatshirt. "You know I never meant to steal that from you right?" Clay nodded his head slowly, "I know, you do that sometimes. But, I don't care because you always give them back to me one way or another." George smiled before turning his body and walking to the door.

"George!" Clay yelled.

George turner around and looked over at him. "What?"

"Your forgot to put on pants." Clay wheezed at the looked George had on his face when he looked down. Quickly he ran over and pulled on the black sweatpants. Clay looked away from him, knowing that personal space is always needed. "Why are you such an asshat?" George rolled his eyes and walked to the bedroom door. Clay ran over to his side, unlocking the door, but pushing George against the wall was his first thought before they walked out. "Because you let me be who I want to be and I don't have to be reminded that I have a social anxiety."

That caused George to give Clay a bright smile. "Shouldn't you save that line for the future wife you always talk about? I feel honored regardless, but if you feel the need to push me against the wall. Make sure you make me feel good in the process." He ducked underneath Clay's arms walking out the bedroom door.

Flirting with Clay was something that happened between the both of them. They were both single, so if they practiced flirting on each other like they normally do then that was natural.

They would practice something on each other weather it was moves or words. They did it both.

Except... If they were drunk.

Then if they were flirting with each other that would be real. They were too drunk to know it would be practice. That's why they can't be in a room together when they are drunk, they get very talkative and it doesn't take long for that to become annoying.

Clay walked out of the room behind him.

"Hey Green bean and short stalk, breakfast is ready!" Nick yelled from the bottom of the stairs. George rolled his eyes and smiled, "Okay, be right there sleeping beauty." George rushed down the steps and into the kitchen where his mother was making pancakes, "Clay do you want pancakes or waffles?"

"Waffles."

She turned off the stove and handed the plate to George, he was about to digress but she saw that she had a plate already. "The waffles are in the freezer put them in the toaster. You can have as many as you want."

-

When everyone was done eating, they got ready for the day. A day of just staying inside and chilling. While they were eating it started to rain out again. "Streets are going to be flooded." His mom sided softly, standing in the doorway of the front door.

She stood there about a good 10 minuets just watching. Then she closed the door, "I think before we get comfortable we should bring everything up stairs. If it rains and things get flooded, I don't want a bunch of things to get wet. The guys and the girls helped out in bringing the small things up stairs so that if basements do start to flood then they wouldn't have to worry so much about it. It didn't matter to much because in the end the basement never flooded. The thought was all that counted for this one.

Mostly everyone was slumped on the couch out of breath because of all the hard work they had just done. "So, what are we going to do now?" Wilbur -of course- spoke up. The ones who were not tired, examples; Clay, Nick, George's mother, Wilbur, Ranboo, Caroline, and Techno. All looked at each other, except for Caroline for she and Anna had gone upstairs to have girl time. Which was fine because in a house full a teenage guys, those girls should not be in the same room with them. "We could dress the guys up into girly clothing." Technoblade suggested in a casual tone of voice. "Fuck gender roles." Eret said tiredly and lifted his fist in the air, only to have it fall to his side in a tired sigh. It made some of the guys laugh, but some of them felt uncomfortable in what Techno had suggested.

"I am not going to be put in a skirt." Tommy and Tubbo both spoke up at the same time. George got up and stood behind the two juniors, "I agree. I am not dressing up as a female I front of you guys. I don't know what kind of photos you'd take." Tommy gagged, "We are minors here! Minors leave us out of it!" He ran into the kitchen followed by the other two minors in the room, Ranboo and Tubbo.

Ranboo still scared the hell out of George.

"And then there was eight." The cracking of fingers was sounded in the room. "Why not watch a romcom or watch a zombie series on Netflix?" George looked over at Clay knowing that he gets scared easily. He didn't know if everyone knew that, but he sure did. A smile made it's way onto his face, Clay looked kinda terrified. "Oooh, that sounds like that could be a lot of fun." Wilbur chuckled softly, he wasn't much for zombies but if it was with friends, it didn't bug him as much. "Fundy loves stuff like that, me on the other hand can not handle seeing blood and stuff like that in huge doses. I'd be fine in someone would tell me if it gets to much. I know I look strong but the stomach is always stronger." Eret looked up at the ceiling. "I think we are all going to say yes to the show, it's not a bad idea and plus with it raining outside what else are we going to do? Plant a tree? Yeah, I don't think so." The talk of zombies had brought Tubbo, Tommy, and the Boo back into he livingroom. "We are all down to watch the show."

Clay stood there in shock to hear how many people wanted to watch the scary show.

With a little bit of extra motivation, the guys got up and moved the couches closer to the TV. They made spots of the floor with pillows and placed blankets in piles to sit on. The minors got one couch and shared that with Wilbur. Eret, Fundy, Nick, and Karl all sat on the other couch together because Karl was sitting on Nicks lap. He didn't care though, this was a normal thing for them to do. They are close friends who know a lot about each other. Which can sometimes be a scary thought, letting someone know you up close. The things you like, don't like, secrets, your kinks, disgusts, and more stuff that they could use against you in times of hatefulness and dread.

Anyway, anyway, Techno laid on the floor along with Clay and George. Well, Clay was laying in between George's legs. He was kinda-lowkey-yes scared out of his mind from having to think about a zombie even though he knew that they were not real. Even if they were real, Clay would be able to kill them and then the problem would be dealt with and not taken on by turtles who wait to long to kill the darn things.

His arms were wrapped around George's torso and his face was shoved in his chest. "This is disappointing." Clay whined softly causing George to look down at him. "What is disappointing?" He whispered back, placing his hand on the top of Clay's head, gently running his fingers through the blond strands.

"Your sweatshirt doesn't..."

-

Hah, cliff hanger because I didn't finish writing the chapter before 11:59 at night on Sunday. So, restarting the word count from this one it will be 5000 words in the next chapter.

I didn't have enough time to write a 7000 word chapter but I AM WORKING AT IT!!

[Word count: 4653]

Remember updated every other Sunday <3