Chapter Text
A plane arrived at gate 13. The express flight from London straight to Miami cost George about nine hours of his time- what was supposed to be an eight-hour trip was delayed an hour before departure, and the additional 15 minutes was spent trying to get his carry-on bag through American airport security unscathed. Nearly every person coming off the flights wore masks for the duration of the trip even though it wasn’t really necessary anymore – including George himself – you could never be too safe. The COVID pandemic had long since passed, but old habits die hard, he guessed.
Exhaustion pulled at his eyelids the same way hunger gnawed at his stomach. The in-flight food was less than pleasant and his fruitless attempts at any sorts of sleep onboard the plane only reminded him of his constant hunger. But there was definitely something else in there, something George wasn’t sure how to explain. There was this twisting feeling, the sensation of his intestines moving about on their own. Of a million insects fluttering around in his stomach, moving about frantically and bumping into each other or the walls. There was also a slight shake to his knees that was not entirely noticeable to others, but George could definitely feel it. He might even say he felt sort of like throwing up.
He was meeting his best friend today. In person, finally. Technically he didn’t really know who he was looking for, because he had never actually seen his friend’s face. All he knew he was supposed to look for was someone who was tall and had somewhat blonde hair – which wasn’t much mind you. So, for information he was pretty much skint, and the tiredness really didn’t help retaining the little amount of patience he had left. Would he have a particular fashion sense that really stuck out, and would make him easily recognisable? Maybe he would dress casually and blend right in with the crowd?
Disregarding the nerves that dwelled deep within his gut, George knew he was excited. The three of them had been planning this trip for months and had agreed that both Sapnap and George would stay at Dream’s house for the Christmas holidays. Sapnap should be arriving today too, but he was driving from Texas to Florida and George guessed he was most likely arriving later that night. Dream had insisted that they stay for the month, so they would have time to enjoy Christmas as well as spend enough time together to feel somewhat fulfilled after all these years of empty promises to meet in person. The three were a powerful team, to say the least. Years of coding, streaming, storytelling, teasing - anything they did together was cherished in the best ways.
So, you can understand why it was a huge deal they were all finally seeing each other in person, then. George had seen Sapnap before, they had video chatted countless times. Both boys had seen his face too but Dream still remained faceless. It added to the thrill, the nerves, and the excitement, that’s for sure.
George brought his calloused hands to his face, rubbing at his eyes gently as he walked. One at a time he attempted to rub the tiredness away, only stopping once he saw stars and colourful shapes in the blackness. George allowed himself to stop and stretch his muscles - having finally found his baggage terminal – earning a loud pop came from one of the vertebrae in his back. He surveyed the area slowly, scanning the baggage claim from left to right, unsure of where Dream was supposed to meet him.
There were people gathered around, most waiting to pick up friends or family for the holidays ahead. Nearly everyone had found their person.
Except George, who couldn’t for the life of him decide if the handsome fellow in the Florida gators t-shirt who was staring at his phone in the corner of the room was Dream, or if it was someone else. He continued to scan the crowd slowly skipping past people who had already greeted the ones who came off the same plane.
There was one guy with a light grey hoodie, some black skinny jeans, a pair of shitty worn-out converse and a black baseball cap – which most of his hair was tucked underneath – with some tufts of sandy blonde poking out the sides in front of his ears. There was something tucked underneath his arm. He had a lean build and almost perfect posture, standing tall but letting himself relax the slightest bit. He looked nervous – staring blankly at the exit from the hallway that led to gates 5-13. George was pretty sure the guy to the left with the gators t-shirt was Dream, but that didn’t stop him from oogling at this stranger from where he stood. He was undeniably attractive from his build alone, and maybe if he had the time, he could ask for his number before he left.
Before George could look away and study who he thought to be Dream, the man he had let himself stare at for what was probably an uncomfortable amount of time came to his senses and began to look around. His piercing yellow eyes locked with George’s own.
Or maybe they were green. George couldn’t tell.
But what he could tell was that attractive person was looking right at him and giving him an overpowering smile. He didn’t know this man, did he?
The man reached for the item that was tucked underneath his arm, which turned out to be a sheet of posterboard about the size of an a4 piece of paper. It had something scrawled on it in thick, black letters:
Mr. Notfound
George’s smile matched Dreams. What a dork.
Dream walked forward, and George only had to take a few steps before they were within arm’s reach of each other.
“Excuse me, Mr Notfound – I’m supposed to escort you to your car today.” Dream spoke with an overly fake British accent, trying to hold in a giggle. George shoved him with his free hand, in an attempt to hide his embarrassment. He really hoped Dream didn’t notice George literally checking him out. If he had of known it was his best friend, he would definitely have kept those thoughts far away.
“Hi, Dream.’ George was able to get a good look at him now. Dream had a long, thin scar that ran across the bridge of his nose and caught the edge of his lip, disturbing the light freckles that rested on his entire face. His skin was what George had learned to be a light tanned colour, and even though he seemed a tad yellow he knew that he most likely had a sun-kissed complexion. His eyes, something that had startled George a few moments ago seemed like it had never happened. They were vibrant and true, looking at George in some way he wasn’t sure how to describe. He wore a sweet smile, slightly marred by the end of the scar that finished on his upper lip, but a sweet smile nonetheless. It was a smile that told a million stories of kindness and compassion. Dream’s hair wasn’t technically blonde, but it wasn’t really brown either. It was kind of hard to describe, it looked slightly ruffled and was sticking out in many places from underneath the cap, and now George was close enough to notice the rest of it tied in a short ponytail behind Dream’s head. So this is what he meant when he said he was overdue for a haircut.
George let his eyes wander down, settling on studying his hands. They were large and bulky, with shortened fingernails that looked like they had been bitten from either nerves or boredom. The hoodie dream was wearing – although tastefully blank – was just a tad too big for him. Not that George was complaining; it made him appear soft and… gentle? Maybe the lack of sleep was getting to him. There was no way someone who was supposed to be his friend was making him feel like this. Snap out of it, George.
He tore his gaze away, glancing at the floor quickly before returning his attention to Dream’s face. He opened his mouth to say something, to start a conversation as a distraction. Anything. But Dream beat him to it.
“Wow. I didn’t expect the first thing for you to do was to check me out. Am I prettier than you thought I’d be? You practically couldn’t keep your eyes to yourself over there.”
“It’s just different seeing you in person.” George shrugged.
Dream smiled once more.
“I could say the same for you.”
No no no fuck why did he sound so genuine oh fuck oh god-
There was a pause, a silence that seemed to last for ten years. It made George antsy, he just wanted to sleep and eat a McChicken or something. He really wanted a hug, too. But he wasn’t really sure how comfortable Dream would be with hugs. Technically they had known each other for a long time and he knew he was okay with hugs, but he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable on the first day they saw each other in the physical world. Eh, whatever. It was worth a shot.
“May I hug you-?”
“Can I hug you?”
They had both spoken at the same time. Dream and George both laughed, any tension in the atmosphere dissolving into pleasant humour from doing such a cliché thing. Dream sounded like he might be hiding an entire tea kettle inside his throat and George- well George sounded like a normal human being, not a kitchen appliance. He nodded at Dream as a sign of permission for the hug, opening his arms while trying to get a hold of the laugh that was slowly dying in his throat. Dream seemed to get a hold on himself too because he cleared his throat shortly, a smile settling on his features as he bent down to place the little cardboard sign on the floor by his feet so he could hug his friend.
The embrace was warm, and pleasant. George wrapped his arms around Dream’s middle, their difference in heights making them both fit together almost perfectly. He felt Dream’s arms find their way around his shoulders, one of his hands resting on his shoulder blade and the other one gently slipping into his short, brown hair. His hand was cradling the back of George’s head comfortingly and the two shared a pleasant silence. A long, satisfied sigh left George as the realisation washed over him; he was in his best friend’s arms. Finally.
He can feel Dream’s heartbeat through his hoodie.
Something about being able to feel him, to be able to touch him and hold him in his arms was just so surreal to George. It was like it took all his emotions and threw them all over the floor, only to be picked up in the wrong order. Something inside him shifted- and George knew things would never be the same as they were before. He felt it as soon as he saw him. But he would deal with that later, for now wasn’t the time to revaluate his decisions- he was way too tired for that.
Now, the only issue he had was physically letting go of Dream right now. George knew for a fact that Dream would always be the last to let go when hugging someone, he’d said it countless times- so with an internal sigh of disappointment George managed to tear himself away from his friend long enough to look him in the eyes.
“Let’s get you home, hm? Sapnap is arriving later tonight so you have some time to sleep until then.”
“Sounds good. Im exhausted, honestly.” George laughed, picking up the sign from near Dream’s worn out shoes and tucking it under his arm. “I do have to pick up my bags though.”
“Right, yeah. After that I mean.”
They stood and waited for about ten minutes before the bags started to roll through on the conveyor. It was pleasant, nothing but a quiet conversation on the way to the car as Dream insisted on carrying George’s bags.
George fell asleep in the car on the drive from Miami to Orlando.