Chapter Text
Ready. What a strange concept. Could one ever be fully ready for something, prepared for every possible outcome so that they could begin? Dream didn’t think so. In his mind, ready was a process. It was an opening up, a blossoming even. Flowers unfurled beneath gentle rainfall, and so did his heart, opening up to accept the love he’d lost at the first frost.
Like the gentle revival after a tough winter, Dream and George reconciled slowly. Green buds emerged from previously barren limbs as tentative texts were sent across cool skies.
Dream: Wanna grab coffee or something? I don’t work until 11 today
George: Well I guess I could take my break early today 4 you :]
A victory within itself. Dream shrugged on an oversized coat that he would probably want to discard about five minutes into his walk, but that was alright. Maybe George would forget his own jacket and then he’d borrow Dream’s, giving him an excuse to see the other boy again.
Dream always reached out first. He was the first to send off a good night text, the first to call George just to hear his voice, the first to make it known that this is what he wanted. It was only fair, he supposed, after the torment he’d been put through the past season. George was kind enough to give him the option to back away, to shut it down if it all became too much just like it had for him, but Dream knew he never would.
Saccharine scents filled his nostrils as he exited his apartment. He’d taken the time to revive what flowers he could, and replace those well beyond repair. Being so close with a florist absolutely had its perks. While the notes of blooming carnations reminded him of a less-than-desirable past, a whiff of a newly potted faintly-spiced orchid showed hope that this time things would be different. Now that he and George knew what went wrong, they could hope to bury it and bloom anew, using the past as a base so that the future could bloom even brighter than before.
With his first step onto the cracked pavement that called itself a sidewalk, Dream saw the brightness around him come to life. Gone was the bleak grey sky and desolate limbs that characterized his winter, replaced instead with soft greens emphasizing the faint emergence of love-filled reds and pinks. People always claimed that winter was the best time to settle down with someone, but Dream would have to disagree. Who wouldn’t want to fall in love with a pastel rainbow backdrop, versus one of muted shades of grey and brown.
George disagreed with him. He’d brought it up once, before the fallout, how he thought the colors of the spring and summer were perfect for falling in love, but George just couldn’t quite get it. He supposed it made sense, given the colorblindness, but it still disappointed Dream a little. George thought falling in love in the winter chill would have been the best, seeking warmth and shelter from the biting cold, but that was just one of the things he and Dream disagreed on.
Like always, Dream found himself lost in thought as he traced his well worn path to the coffeeshop he knew so well. Now that he was looking for them, Dream found flowers everywhere. Like the planter beneath the window, bearing what he thought were snapdragons and forget-me-nots just beginning to blossom. Like he predicted, it was absolutely too hot for his jacket, which Dream shed the second he stepped inside and was met with a rush of warm air. It seemed the store hadn’t quite adjusted to the weather, as the heat was definitely still up and running much too late into the year.
As he pushed open the glass door, Dream’s eyes flickered up to meet George’s from across the room. His umber eyes brightened as he waved Dream over to his table, where he already sat with two cups of coffee beside him. It was endearing just how excited he looked to see him. Dream liked this so much more than the detached man he’d known before. Ever since he and George were able to talk over what went wrong with them and how they could have fixed it, George had been so much more involved in the relationship. Of course, he always gave Dream room to breathe when he needed the space, but his eagerness hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“You got me coffee?” He questioned. The George he’d known before never would have done that. It was a small thing, sure, but those small things started to add up eventually. It meant much more than what it looked like at a glance, especially to Dream.
George quirked an eyebrow, lips falling into a gentle line. “Of course I did,” he said, as if it was really that simple. It wasn’t, but he didn’t need to hear all of that at ten am anyways. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Dream hummed, struggling to formulate his thoughts in a way that didn’t seem dramatic or like he was overdoing it. “I don’t know, I just didn’t expect it, that’s all.” It wasn’t like George would mind his dramatism, he’d chosen to come back to Dream knowing just how sentimental he was. He just didn’t feel like confessing the inner workings of his mind so unexpectedly, that’s all.
“I’m not the man I once was, you know that Dream,” George teased, tone full of lush and bright spring air. He smiled, not with his lips, but in the way his body moved. The corners of his eyes narrowed, his nose wrinkled, and his shoulders folded in on themselves. This was the happiest Dream had ever seen him, and all it took was one quip that wasn’t even that funny or shocking.
“Oh yes, because a cup of coffee solves all.”
George giggled in response, the gentle sound blossoming in the humid air between them and taking root deep inside Dream’s beating heart. “Shut up, oh my God. You know what I meant.”
The fact that they were even able to joke about this showed just how sure the pair were that they’d revived the frosted leaves of before and planted them anew. Something so heavily charged shouldn’t have been something easy to joke about for most, but they’d never been like most other people anyways.
“Yeah, I do. I appreciate it though.” He said as he let his thumb trace patterns into the back of George’s hand on the table. It was so much smaller than his, much softer too. It fit him, though. George’s eyes met Dream’s as he tightened his hand, leaning into the effortless touch.
“You know that don’t you?” He affirmed, strands of hair tickling his forehead when Dream tilted his head to the side in a questioning manner.
“Mmm, I could do with being told it again. Couldn’t hurt,” George gloated. He was keeping the tone light, but the way his eyes dilated told Dream all he needed to know about how George really felt beneath the playful jousts and jabs.
“You just want me to play into your praise kink don’t you?” he questioned, tone lowering but still loud enough to be overheard by someone listening in if they so wished. “I won’t fall for it this time Georgie.”
Garnet and carmine bloomed across George’s pale cheeks, working up through his neck in intricate patterns before flushing his face with enchanting crimson and rose shades. “Oh my god, not so loud please,” he requested, voice laced with sweet nectar and an enchanting accent. “We’re literally in public, I can’t with you today.”
“Mm, but you could with me last night though? Or did I mishear your be—”
“—Dream! You’re the worst,” George exclaimed, cutting the snarky American off before he said something he might regret being overheard.
“Not denying it though, are you?” His tone was a light pink, a diluted version of the heavy reds he’d felt so strongly in the summer months. He and Goerge hadn’t even done anything the night before, unless texting nonstop counted, and Dream really didn’t think it did given what he was implying.
George rolled his umber eyes, burnt browns scorched by exposure to heat dipping behind milky lids painted in gentle peach and blush-tones “Enough of that.”
“What’re you gonna do, break up with me again?” Dream challenged. George never would have been this direct when diving into such a raw topic, but since Dream had taken the lead he followed along like a ballroom dance, eyes widening when Dream continued on. “It’s not like I can’t handle it.”
“That’s not what Sapnap told me, but you keep being all cocky. It’s kind of cute.”
Dream scoffed, shaking his head in denial of the very obvious truth. He very much couldn't handle losing George again, that much was right, but he doubted Sapnap was the one to enlighten George to that fact. If anything, it was Karl who’d been told by Sapnap and mentioned it in passing. Sapnap and Karl had grown much closer once Dream and George had begun to reconcile. He didn’t really know what to think about it quite yet, but he and George could scheme on how to get them together another day, one where they had more time to bask in the morning sun together.
“You think I’m cute? That’s sweet of you.”
George groaned, “You're absolutely insufferable. I’m so glad I have to go back to work in a few minutes, I don’t know how I’d tolerate any longer with you.”
The conversation filled with snarky remarks and failed attempts at subtly inching closer faded into the background, overlapped by noises of new customers and music echoing through the store. It was one of the first nice days that year, and everyone who had any common sense was out taking advantage of the clear sky and fresh air. It was nice, it was gentle, and it was finally spring. A brutal winter, one that had been felt all over and not just in Dream’s heart, gave way to the most beautiful days seen in a long while.
-
Dream blinked his eyes open, sleep falling heavily off his lids. The first thing he noticed when his mind adjusted to the sensation of being awake was the arm encircled around his waist and the mess of brown hair buried in his neck. It tickled a bit, the slightly curled strands of rich chocolate dusting against his freckled skin.
It felt like paradise. This was all Dream had ever wanted, to hold George while he slept and not be afraid that in the morning he’d leave him all over again. Someone wiser probably would have still been wary, but Dream had never claimed to be an academic. All he knew was that George was true, and so was he, and that was all they needed to make it work. They were absolutely a mess, but it was so lovely the way they made it work anyways. Huh. A lovely mess. Didn’t Dream listen to a song like that earlier?
God, It had to have been months ago. Was it really back in the summer? Or maybe the winter? That seemed like another life almost, so long ago when he fell in love for the first time. He fell in love with the idea of someone like George then, someone so perfect that he couldn’t fathom things ever going wrong. They absolutely had gone wrong, but that was the charm of it all, the way they’d reconciled and somehow figured it out because they both knew what they had was too intense to lose so easily. Dream would have fought so much harder that he had needed too, all George had to do was ask.
At some point, while Dream was lost in thought, George began to stir. It started with a gentle yawn, then a tightening of his grip, and before Dream knew it George had somehow maneuvered himself to be laying on top of him. It reminded him a little of his cat, patches, and how she’d lay wherever she pleased without ever stopping to ask Dream if he wanted her there. George was the same like that, knowing that no matter where he was Dream would be happy with it. And Dream was so happy with it, so so happy.
George tilted his head to the side, and he was reminded of what they’d done the night prior. Gentle bouquets of lavender and rose bloomed against the smooth skin, petals littered up and down the column of his neck. Dream was sure, if he looked, he’d see the trail he’d carved all the way down to George’s hipbones and below, but he didn’t want to get himself worked up again this early.
George was artwork. He was the budding flowers outside, green stems giving way to explosions of brightness he couldn’t even see. He was the gentle sun, beaming down upon skin and tinting it pink just from his presence alone. He was the cool wind, sending a pleasant chill up Dream’s spine every time he made himself known. He was everything beautiful and kind about the spring and yet he was so much more, and Dream fell in love with him again and again every time he saw him.
Oh. He was in love. It should have been obvious, the depth of his feelings giving that much away at a glance, but Dream had never really considered that possibility before. He gently nudged George’s sleeping form, causing the smaller to raise his head drowsily and bring his eyes up to meet Dream’s.
“Hm?” He hummed, voice graveley and accent prominent from sleep.
“I love you, George,” Dream said. His voice was low, almost as if he was afraid to break the peaceful silence he and George had created when they went to sleep the night before.
“Oh, that’s it? I love you too.”
Dream let the shock settle into his bones before properly formulating a response. “That’s it? I just told you I love you and you say that’s it ?” He was mostly joking, but he was more surprised with how easily George let the words surface.
“Well yeah,” George started, propping himself up onto his elbows to get a better view of Dream, “I thought it was pretty obvious we were in love.” He was so nonchalant when he said it, in stark contrast from the Goerge of the fall before. He would have never even debated saying those three words, let alone let them slip out like second nature. Dream let himself appreciate the feeling, the warmth unfurling in his chest like a flower in bloom.
“I guess it was pretty obvious, wasn’t it?” It wasn’t really a question that could be answered, so George responded by brushing his lips against Dream’s in a gentle kiss. It was brief, but the intent behind it made it mean so much more. This was love, and it was everything Dream had ever wanted.