Chapter Text
It had been mutually agreed that they would return to the motel. After all, it had started all this, it was only fair it ended it too. Karl, Sapnap, and Quackity seemed happy to return too, why, George had no idea.
They didn’t all pile into the office this time, letting Karl get their rooms. He comes out with two keys and George finally realizes what this means.
He gets to share a bed with Dream.
They had cuddled once or twice since stargazing, but the twin-sized bunk beds weren’t exactly made for it and Karl refused to let them borrow the king in the master.
Now, though. They’re going to have a whole queen bed and a relatively separate room all to themselves.
(*sigh* if only the author knew how to write smut)
It doesn’t really matter how dirtily ideal the situation is, though. George is unbelievably tired, ironically from sitting around all day. But keeping up with the ever-present banter while also trying to guide a driver with zero sense of direction (*cough* Sapnap *cough*) takes a toll, he guesses.
George helps Dream lug both their suitcases up the stairs, getting a strong sense of deja vu. This time there isn’t tension in the air. Instead, the sound of the two chattering nonsensically as they change into pjs filling the air. Dream’s faster, climbing onto the bed and posing ridiculously. George knows it’s just supposed to be funny, but his brain has chosen to take Dream’s joking a bit too far. And it’s not helping that Dream decided to sleep without a shirt. Five days at the beach only helped the Floridian’s sun-kissed look.
George doesn’t think that’s fair, seeing as how he can feel a sunburn stinging on the back of his neck. Still, he hurries to catch up to Dream, tossing on the hoodie he hasn’t worn since the previous night in the motel.
“Come on,” Dream says, making grabby hands at George’s hoodie.
“Alright, alright,” George giggles, dropping onto the bed. Dream immediately snuggles into his shirt. “Like my hoodie, don’t you?”
“Mmm,” Dream affirms, “I wanted to cuddle with you so bad when I saw you in this last time.”
“Simp,” George laughs.
He wraps his arms around Dream’s shoulders, pulling the blonde ever closer. He drags one hand through Dream’s hair, scratching slightly and enjoying the shivers he gets in reaction.
It still feels new to be able to just hold Dream, touch him so openly and George savors every minuscule connection. Each touch feels like sparks running under his skin. Honestly, he’s surprised Dream hasn’t said something snarky about the jack-rabbit beating of his heart.
Slowly, the fog of sleep clouds his brain and he lets himself go, content in the knowledge that Dream will always be there when he wakes up.
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The difference between this time at the motel and the last is subtle yet shocking. George finds himself waking up to a similar position to last time, his arms tangled around Dream. This time, though, Dream is the one burying his head in George’s sweater - not the reverse.
Also, George isn’t freaking out about cuddling with his ‘just platonic’ friend and catching feelings, which is nice. Now he actually gets to enjoy this.
Who-knows-how long of lying somewhere between sleeping and awake later, George feels Dream start to stir against him. In response, George moves to get up - only for Dream to grip the brunette even tighter and bury his face in George’s chest.
George smiles at his boyfriend’s clinginess but refuses to let him fall back asleep.
“We should get up.”
“Mmnh,” Dream mumbles into George’s shoulder.
George giggles from the feeling. “C’mon you big baby, there’s food downstairs.”
“N’t worth ‘t.”
“What, you like cuddling more than you like food? I find that hard to believe, mister.”
Dream says something into George’s shoulder again, so George tilts the blonde’s chin up. “What was that?”
“I like cuddling with you more.”
George opens his mouth to reply but no words come out, Dream’s comment having hit home in his heart. Dream just laughs lightly at George’s dumbstruck face and leans forward to press their lips together.
George’s brain must still be short-circuiting because the only thought he can form is this tastes better than breakfast.
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There are pancakes waiting for them when they finally stumble downstairs. George doesn’t know why seeing as last time they were here there was only a standard motel-type cereal-and-sad-muffin spread. But he decides not to question it as he’s given a plate stacked high with golden-brown pancakes, steaming slightly. The other three already made their way down and they wave at George and Dream to come join them.
It shocks George a little bit when a hand grabs his under the table right as he takes a bite of his maple syrup-slathered breakfast. Still, he squeezes back, loving it when he sees the edge of Dream’s mouth quirk up a bit.
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They’re on the road home again, Dream driving and George mindlessly scrolling through Twitter in the front seat, when slightly-argumentative whispers erupt from the backseat.
“No, that’s it, we’re telling them!” Karl says, halfway between a whisper and normal volume. He continues in a normal voice, “Dream! George! We have something to tell you!”
“Okay…” George responds, only half-listening.
“We’re dating.”
It takes a second for the words to sink in, but then:
“What?!” Dream practically shouts.
George spins around in his seat. “What do you mean ‘we’re dating’?! Who? Who is dating who? What’s going on?!”
Sanap refuses to meet George’s eyes and Quackity just sits stoically in the middle. Karl sighs loudly, clearly very done with the other two.
“Us. Me, Quackity, and Sap.”
Dream manages to catch Sapnap’s eye in the mirror and asks the first question that pops to mind.
“Since when?”
“The first night at the motel,” Sapnap replies sheepishly.
“Wait, what?” George jumps back in. “You guys were together the entire vacation?” When the backseat trio nods, George turns to Dream. “We can’t have been that oblivious.”
“Oh, no, trust me, you were.” Quackity cackles.
Thus begins an argument of just how oblivious each person in the car is, bringing up many past instances of general idiocy and breaking the car into laughter.
Later, the trio in the back has passed out, both Karl and Sapnap leaning heavily on Quackity. Dream takes this as a cosmic hint.
“So was it a good vacation?” He asks quietly, not wanting to disturb the idiots in the back.
“Better than good,” George smiles, reaching to interlace their fingers. “I think it was the best.”