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George is a mature kind of love. He’s the gentle touches and murmured apologies after fights where he knew he was wrong. He’s the lighthearted berating over breakfast because Dream forgot to run the dishwasher again, because he has dozens of reminders—one of which was George himself telling him to do it before bed—and still forgot.
George is a kind of love that Dream grows into. He’s the calls that went from being a few hours discussing work or their plans for the day to lasting all day, secrets spilling further into the night and hearts barred because the moon is out and so are they. It’s a love that feels like coming home after a long day at work to open arms and a warm meal, feels like growing old with their hands curled around each other’s bravely even if they’re scared of what the future holds. He’s the kind of love that carries Dream with the tide and drowns him in contentment.
And it is still home. George is his home.
Sapnap is a nostalgic kind of love. He’s pressing body heat during movie nights as they cuddle on the couch, hot cocoa and the steam rising from it in the cold weather to wrap around their fingers and faces. He’s feeling free on summer nights as a kid, playing tag or hide and seek with no worry for anything other than the ground beneath their feet.
Sapnap is a kind of love that feels like a home Dream misses so deeply it curls around his lungs and suffocates him, digs into his veins harsh and unforgiving. It’s a love that changes with him as he grows older. It’s a love that ages alongside him and adapts to the environment and even though it is still home it’s never quite the same as when he was just a kid, running barefoot through dirty streets and scraping his knees from falling off of a bike he just learned how to ride.
But it is still home. Sapnap is his home.
And Dream? Dream doesn’t know how he’s been so lucky to wind up with both of them. His boys that he wouldn’t give up for the world, his boys who carry home on their backs and wind him up like a jack in the box until all his love comes springing out. Then he’s right back to filling the home with his love for them, pictures framing walls and sitting atop their mantle in the living room, new clothing or items that he’d seen them ogle but never ask for in fear of being selfish, purchased and gifted when they least expected it. Dream never knew how else to get them to understand that they were home for him, simply hoped that he could be the place they settled.