Begonias

Chapter Twenty Four|Really

Dream and George had fought a little over the aux cord, and Dream pretended to be frustrated when the other boy 'won', but in actuality, his heart was fluttering at the other boy's happy expression.

Dream got out of the car first, taking advantage of the fact that George had to fiddle with the cord for a hot minute before he could get out. He quickly went around to the other side, pulling open the other boy's door, bowing playfully.

"M'lord?" Dream said and then tensed, preparing for a smack or something, but instead of that, he got to hear George's giggle. It was like liquid gold on his senses.

Dream felt his shoulders go slack, and a loving smile moves onto his expression. He felt the heat rise to his cheeks and his stomach twist in the best kind of way. He felt his fingers itching to hold the shorter boy's hand, but he didn't dare act on the instinct.

They walked into the breakfast restaurant, not too surprised to see a dwindling amount of people there. Dream didn't realize that his mask wasn't up until George nudged him with his elbow. Dream was quick to fumble with it and get it right after that.

And, even though Dream should be over this, he'd be lying if he said wearing the facemask in front of George didn't make him feel more comfortable. A part of him still wanted to shy away from the boy, a deeply rooted fear of not being good enough trying to drive him away.

But it was his insatiable hunger for the boy's presence that drew him back in again, like the tide.

It had been about seven minutes; Dream been nervous, checking his watch, his leg bouncing.

Finally, a nice seeming waiter called them up to get seated at a table, and Dream almost sighed in relief when he saw they were put in a corner spot, less surrounded.

George sat on one side, Dream sat across from him, and he didn't realize how much he was twitching and zoning out.

"So, what are you going to get?" George asks. They had been sitting down for a bit, and Dream had been too lost in thought to be reading the menu. Dream took a break in the action of gnawing on his lip to answer.

"I'm just going to get their basic four stacks of pancakes." He answered, and then when he looked up, he realized that something was off in George's expression as he stared into his eyes.

"Something wrong?" Dream asked, and George seemed to wilt a little, to his confusion.

"It's... Nothing, I guess. Just overthinking." George averted his eyes, and Dream watched him fiddle with the sleeve of the sweatshirt.

Dream smiled warmly. That's right, George was wearing his clothes. He looked absolutely adorable in them.

"You look good today." George complimented, and Dream, for a hot second, thought he had said his thoughts out loud. His face flushed a bit when he realized George had said it, not him.

"Oh.. Uh, thanks. You don't look too bad yourself. My clothes suit you." Dream said and almost wanted to slap himself until he realized that George was smiling and holding back a giggle, which made Dream himself snort.

Dream's snort sent George into a giggle fit, and Dream joined in, his smile wide and impossible to miss.

After some happy banter, they finally saw their waiter. He was a lanky yet handsome boy with tan skin, curly black hair, and a slouch. He smiled smoothly at them.

"I'm Chris, and I'll have the pleasure of waiting on you today. What would you like me to get you?" Dream and George were both still in a good mood as they told him their orders.

Then Dream got an idea. He smirked, and George's face seemed to pale at his expression, and for a moment, Dream wondered if the boy thought he was intimidating.

"Excuse me, Chris?" Dream said, interrupting the boy as he was about to walk away. The boy turned to him, a confused look on his face.

"I'll pay a good ten dollars extra specifically for as much whipped cream as humanly possible on those pancakes." George groaned out a 'Dream come ooooon'.

"Sure, sir," Chris said, sharing a devilish look with Dream before striding away, more confident than before.

Dream laid back in his seat, arms above his head, legs propped up comfortably.

"Now we wait."

---

"Holy shit." George and Dream spoke in sync as the plate of pancakes was placed in front of the taller of the two.

If you were to say there was a lot, then you would be wrong. Dream honestly wasn't sure if Shitton was accurate either.

Oh. He knew the word. It was a fuckton.

The pancakes were completely covered, and while there was a sizable height in just pancakes, about an inch, that size was quadrupled just from the Whipped Cream.

He looked up at Chris like he was a god. Chris looked down at him, eyes shining. Dream offered a fist to bump, and bump they did. George laughed a bit. He was still in disbelief of this absolute monstrosity of breakfast, if you could even call it that.

Dream first went in with a spoon, eating spoonful after spoonful of canned, whipped goodness. Each spoonful tasted worse than the last, but Dream could barely bring himself to care.

Once he had eaten enough whipped cream, he started chipping away at the pancake. His appetite was bottomless at the moment. He'd be damned if he didn't finish these pancakes.

He eventually did finish, and he burped loudly. He looked up and almost burst out laughing at the disgusted, yet impressed look that George had on his face.

---

George was bewildered. Shocked silent. Struck dumb.

Dream had just completely pigged out on pancakes. Normally, no one can ever look attractive doing that. No one.

But Dream somehow managed to look not attractive, but absolutely mind shatteringly hot while doing it.

And as the other boy's face slightly changed color, Dream dabbing his face with a paper towel, George felt his heart squeeze a bit.

First chapter of the day.