Work Text:
sight
Dream sees George before George sees him. He looks out of place in the Florida airport, pale and nervous among a sea of tanned and sunburnt tourists. Dream takes a second to stare, he breath getting caught in his throat for a moment.
Years of waiting, and it was finally here. George was finally here.
Sapnap catches Dream’s gaze, and targets George soon after. He waves him down, grinning and laughing and shouting George’s name. Dream watches George spin around at the sudden noise and immediately erupt into a huge grin. Sapnap and George meet each other halfway, crashing into a bone crushing hug that makes Dream smile at his two dorky best friends.
He walks to them, the smile never leaving his face. When George gets his eyes on him, he pulls him into a hug as well. Dream swings his arms around George’s lower back on reflex, squeezing tightly. When George pulls back to look him in the eyes, Dream loses his breath for the second time in a minute.
Up close, Dream can make out the smile lines that form around George’s lips and around his eyes, a result of years of obnoxious laughter and joking with friends. Dream takes pride in the fact that he contributed to a lot of those smiles, his mark permanently etched on George’s face for all to see. He can make out freckles that stain George’s nose and cheeks, freckles that he’s never seen before in pictures or in streams. In the back of his mind he wonders how long it would take for ‘GEORGE’S FRECKLES’ to trend if he tweeted about it. Or maybe he’ll just keep that information to himself.
George has darker under eyes than usual, and Dream can guess it’s from the long, exhausting flight. George’s eyelids flutter closed several times, a sign of exhaustion that Dream has learned to recognize throughout their years together.
“Okay, loverboys. Split it up. You got a way longer hug than I did.” Sapnap interrupts, and as he wishes George pulls his arms away from where they rest around Dream’s collarbone. Dream quietly mourns the loss, but it still doesn’t quell the grin on his face.
Immediately after George moves in, his presence can be seen all throughout the house. A third set of handwriting appears on the shopping list that hangs on their fridge, and Dream is thankful it’s actually legible compared to Sapnap’s messy scrawl. Dream sees George’s mark everywhere in the house, even when George isn’t there. Like how George apparently likes to use the bar of soap instead of the liquid, or how George will fold up the blankets on the couch when he’s done using them. Dream notices that George prefers to use the blue and white towels, as they end up in the laundry bin a lot more frequently than before, and the TV remote keeps ending up in the wrong basket.
Dream isn’t used to seeing George when George isn’t around. But, it’s not like he minds it.
hearing
The second week that George is home with them, Dream hears him tiptoe past his door at four in the morning. He almost doesn’t notice it, through the light whirring of his fan and the quiet chirping of grasshoppers outside. But the noise is just out of place enough, just George enough, that Dream’s focus is momentarily shaken from whatever Reddit post he’s reading.
He pauses for a moment, looking from his bedroom door to his laptop screen, before getting out of his chair and walking away as quietly as possible. When he reaches the door, he opens it slowly, praying it doesn’t creak. He peeks his head into the hallway, recognizing the glow of the kitchen light reflecting onto the walls. He walks silently through the hallway, avoiding the floorboards that he knows squeak. It makes Dream feel like a little kid again; sneaking around the house at an ungodly hour, hoping he won’t get caught.
When he finally reaches the kitchen, he can see George. He’s eating a bowl of Lucky Charms, his back towards Dream. As quiet as ever, Dream walks up to the island that George is leaning on, getting as close as he dares to.
“Boo.” he says, just above a whisper, directly into George’s ear. It’s not loud or scary by any means, but it still makes George jump, causing him to spill Lucky Charms all over the floor. The noise is deafening compared to the dead silence of the house, and even though Sapnap is several rooms away, both George and Dream shush the cereal, as if it would suddenly be quiet.
Dream is giggling silently when he looks up at George, who is wide-eyed and grinning. He looks terrified and delighted at the same time, and Dream takes in every single smile and freckle on his face.
“Oh. My god.” George finally breathes out, a smile etched into every word. It makes Dream snicker, his face becoming sore from how hard he’s grinning.
“Why are you awake?” Dream whispers, if only to make conversation. He doesn’t know why he’s still whispering, the cereal spilling was already louder than their voices. Maybe, if Dream was up to it, he would admit he’s talking quietly to protect the intimacy of the moment. To be able to hear the way George is still breathing heavily out of fright, or to keep the smile on George’s face, the one that Dream proudly put there.
“Couldn’t get back to sleep. I think I’m jet lagged.” George says, matching Dream’s volume.
“You wouldn’t still be jet lagged, idiot,” Dream smiles through the words, “It’s been forever since you flew over. We have melatonin gummies if you want some, though.”
George giggles, even though Dream is completely serious, “Okay, I’ll take some.”
They reach the medicine cabinet, still smiling softly, and Dream grabs the bottle of gummies. It takes him a couple of tries to open the child-proof lid, which nearly makes George pass out from trying not to laugh. Dream finally opens it, dumping out 4 or 5 gummies in each of their hands.
They chew the fruit flavored medicine in silence, and when George grabs one of Dream’s blues and trades it for one of his own purples, quietly excusing, “Don’t like the grape ones,” Dream doesn’t say a word.
They drift back to their respective rooms, with one last small laugh, and Dream immediately falls back into bed, falling asleep even before the melatonin was supposed to kick in.
The next morning, Sapnap wakes them both up by yelling about how Lucky Charms are all over the kitchen floor. It makes Dream laugh, even when George isn’t laughing beside him.
smell
“Is that my shampoo?” Dream blurts out to an unsuspecting George. They’re on week three of being roommates, and Dream isn’t used to having George in real life yet. It definitely shows in the way they interact, slightly off sync from their usual rhythmic banter.
“Um. Yeah.” George answers, his hand going to ruffle his hair up instinctually, “The travel bottles I packed ran out.”
He smells distinctly of the “Sea and Surf” soap Dream’s used for years. It’s never mattered much to him how his soap smelled, as long it was cheap and wasn’t strong enough to give him and the people around him a headache.
But, now, he’s not so sure about it. It smells like George has taken a bath in Dream’s own bedsheets, like George really has become a permanent fixture in his real life. It does something funny to his breathing, like the distinctive beach smell could burn the inside of his lungs.
“I found an unopened bottle in the cabinet. But, I can use Sapnap’s if it bothers you.” George offers, apparently picking up on Dream’s weird behavior.
“ No,” Dream answers, far too aggressively. He clears his throat, “No, no. You’re fine. Just let me know what kind of soap you want from the store.”
George nods, and Dream nods back, before pushing past him to move to a different room of the house. A room that doesn’t smell so overwhelmingly of George.
Later that night, while they’re preparing dinner together, Sapnap gives George a weird look, and then he shoots the same strange look Dream’s way.
“Uh, George? Why do you smell like Dream?” Sapnap laughs. George can only stammer and turn slightly red in response, which only makes Sapnap laugh even more.
“You know you have your bedroom, right? You don’t have to cuddle up with Dream at night.” Sapnap snickers, and Dream has to duck his head down to stop George from seeing his face turn red (and so Sapnap doesn’t see him laugh, lest he take it as encouragement). George rewards Sapnap with a hard smack on the arm, and the topic is promptly dropped.
Despite Sapnap’s teasing, George still uses Dream’s soap. When it comes time to do the shopping, Dream buys two bottles, blushing all the way to check-out.
touch & taste
“Dream?”
Dream’s eyes swing open, just as he was about to sleep. Barely audible, he hears a light rapping at the door, accompanied by his name. He pulls his covers off and walks over to open the door. There, in the dim light of the hallway, stands a distressed-looking George.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t expect you to be awake,” George stammers, taking a step back from the doorway.
“Hey, no,” Dream says softly, opening the door wider, “What’s going on?”
George blinks a few times before taking a deep breath, “I’m just stressing out. I thought seeing you would make me feel better.”
It makes Dream’s stomach warm up, even through the concern he feels for George.
“Cm’here,” Dream says, “We can talk.”
He steps out of the way of the doorway, letting George take a step in. Dream sits on the end of his bed, and motions for George to do the same, which he does, albeit hesitantly.
“So,” Dream starts, “What’s up?”
He stares at George’s profile as George stares at the ground. His eyelids were droopy and his under eyes were abrupt and dark, a clear sign of a sleepless night. His eyelashes stuck together, wet with tears.
“Just a nightmare. Wanted to come see you.” George says quietly, leaning closer into Dream’s chest. Dream accepts the touch gratefully, moving his arm around George to tuck him in closer. It’s all the permission George needs, leaning fully back into Dream’s open chest and resting his head on Dream’s collarbone.
Dream’s arms wrap around him, and his breath stops momentarily. The warmth that radiates between them makes Dream feel like he’s melting. At a certain point, he can’t distinguish where his body ends and where George’s begins; there is only them, intertwined at the end of Dream’s bed.
The moment feels brief, before Dream feels George shift beside him. At first, he thinks George is pulling back, like he’s going to say his thanks and leave Dream’s room for the night. But, instead, George pulls his head out from underneath Dream’s chin, and levels their faces with each other.
George’s lips are even with his own, and George’s eyes are staring directly into his. They’re so close that Dream can feel George’s warm breath on his lips, and distantly he feels George’s right hand grab his left, entangling their fingers and pressing his hand into the mattress. It’s grounding, a small symbol from George to Dream that makes him feel like George wants him there.
George blinks, once, twice. Dream watches as he grabs his bottom lip in between his teeth, and he realizes he’s been staring, and for a moment he almost feels embarrassed. When he looks back up to George’s eyes, George is staring at his lips, too. And it’s all Dream can stand.
Dream breathes all of himself into George. All of the build up, all of the tension they’ve been harboring all of these years, goes into the kiss. It’s desperate, but gentle, and George is still holding his hand the entire time. Dream’s free hand rests on the back of George’s neck, his fingers threading through the hair there and strategically pulling George even closer towards him.
Dream soaks it all in, not wanting to miss a single thing. The wet sparkle in George’s lashes, paired with a violent red flush that tints his cheekbones and nose. George’s kiss-slick lips, that are occasionally greeted by his tongue, flicking out to wet them.
Dream can hear George’s quiet breathing, more ragged and needy than usual. He hears every movement, from George shifting closer to him in bed, to the tiny wet pop that accompanies George’s lips when he parts them.
The distinct smell of Sea & Surf soap hits his nose, and Dream is reminded of how real George is. He’s no longer pixels on his screen, or just a voice on the other end of a call. He’s real, and he smells like life. His breath is tinted with the scent of spearmint toothpaste, his clothes still linger with the sickly sweet smell of fresh laundry. Being this close together, it's hard to ignore any part of George, not that Dream would ever want to.
Dream can feel the prickle of George’s hair against his forehead and the light stubble around his mouth. Dream can feel George’s hot breath against his tongue and can feel George’s chest against his own. The slick of saliva, the light bumping of teeth; Dream makes a note of it all.
Dream didn’t know how he had gone so long without having so much of George. He kisses George’s face, tasting the salty, wet tears that had been there moments before and the mint toothpaste that idled around the sides of his mouth. The kiss finally slows to a stop, though George is still holding Dream’s hand and Dream is still lightly running his fingers through George’s hair.
“Dream?” George said softly, after what felt like hours.
“Hm?”
“As much as this is really great, I’m going to fall asleep. Like, immediately.”
Dream sees the way George’s eyelids hang low and hears the soft edge to each of his words. It’s so endearing that Dream can’t even be slightly upset that he doesn’t get to continue kissing him.
Dream places a final, gentle kiss to the side of George’s mouth, “You can sleep here if you want.”
“Thank god.” George mumbles, falling back onto Dream mattress and tucking himself under the blankets. Dream follows suit, pressing his chest to George’s back and wrapping his arms around George’s waist.
George yawns, “You know, I lasted longer than I thought I would.”
“Hm?”
“This is like, what? Week three? I thought I would’ve given up and made out with you by day two.” George mumbled.
“Really?” Dream smiles against George’s neck, “I wish you hadn’t waited.”