Work Text:
He was staring into the sunset, not really sure what to do. Everything around him felt peaceful - and he decided to drink up that feeling, not so distant anymore. It hits him; how bad he missed it. The colors mixing together, creating soothing patterns, painting the clouds in the sky, bathing every blade of grass in a golden glow.
The sense of peace was cut short when he heard footsteps behind him. He didn’t dare turn his head around, pretending his moment wasn’t interrupted by whoever decided to show up.
That was until he heard shuffling, and what else than nervousness could it be? So he moved, just a bit, careful not to scare the person standing behind him. What he didn’t expect to see there was a man he’s most definitely seen before.
”Oh. It’s you.” The slight annoyance in his tone has almost gone unnoticed, but the man’s eyes became one shade less vibrant than they were before.
It’s not that he disliked him. It was more of a neutral feeling; sometimes mixed with an unexplained kind of irritation - or that’s what he told himself whenever he caught himself staring curiously at George, now standing right before him.
He scratched his neck and averted his gaze, instantly regretting even coming here.
”Yeah… It’s me”, he responded silently, afraid of being even more of an unwelcome distraction.
”What do you want?” - Dream asked, looking directly at the man. His features were illuminated by the last rays of a soft sunset light, and although it was nearly buried below the horizon, it made the colors dance on his skin.
It was when George looked up though, meeting his eyes, that his breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t met with what he always assumed to be cold black orbs, instead seeing the richest honey and a desert’s dusk, a fire burning; alive and inviting. He wished he could come closer, even if it meant getting burnt.
”You’re staring. I just wanted to ask; why aren’t you sleeping. It’s cold out here.”
Dream didn’t notice that before; it really was getting pretty chilly. What was left of a sunset was an ashen sky; a sign to head back home. And well, the staring wasn’t something he could blame himself for. But that didn’t mean George could ever know that.
”You’re imagining things. Your brain froze off already?” - he asked, his expression sharper than before.
George just shook his head, letting out a breathy chuckle.
”Okay, okay. I’ll be going now. You probably should, too.” And with that, he walked away, leaving a now shivering Dream in the middle of a plain.
--
He laid awake in his bed, sparing a glance at his bedside clock every couple of minutes. He tried not to think too hard about what happened that day; it wasn’t their first interaction, yet he never had trouble sleeping afterwards. He also wasn’t hoping for another occasion to talk to the man.
And now, there he was, making up scenarios, thinking back to the moment they talked, chasing up the memory of George’s eyes, warm and calm, a feeling of coming home; a wave hitting the shore.
He pulled the blanket further up to his chin, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He felt lost; confused beyond anything he’s experienced before. He only knew one thing. He’s royally fucked.
With that realization came the break of dawn; Dream only then noticing how tired he actually was. But sleeping wasn’t an option anymore. He got up, goosebumps now forming on his legs against the crisp air of the morning. He always considered walks cathartic; soothing his sore nerves with a fresh breath of wind. A new day always feels hopeful.
He wasn’t really paying attention to the direction he walked in, focusing on his thoughts. There were things he had to sort out, stuck in his head, replaying over and over, like a broken voicemail. Things he had to admit and come to terms with. And that internal therapy session would’ve carried on; only if he hadn’t started recognizing the place he was currently standing in.
The plain he was sat at just yesterday, fiddling with the grass’s soft leaves before the sunset came, and with it another person, who hadn’t left his mind since.
It all came crashing down like a waterfall, its loud echo carrying across his head. He didn’t run from it this time, though. It was not a storm anymore. It didn’t make the sky dark; didn’t soak right through his skin. The sight of a waterfall is always breathtakingly beautiful.
That was just the beginning; realizing what he truly felt for George, who by ‘ruining’ his peaceful moment, brought the rain that made his feelings bloom for the first time in ages. Though overwhelming, it was also, in a sense, grounding.
--
He stayed there for a while, breathing in the air and taking in the sight; how it looked in a day’s light. He didn’t come here often before, but now, he might just start. He told himself that George’s presence the other day had nothing to do with the special feeling this place had. And he knew that’s a lie.
He considered his options, finally deciding to go back home and fill his day with doing chores; whatever that could take his mind off that single thought.
He ended up cleaning the whole house, and even made himself his favorite tea. He was too tired to make cookies to go with that, but he didn’t complain. The day was going to end soon; yellow tinges already started to appear in the sky. He couldn’t really help it, the urge to go there again was too strong. The plain started feeling a lot like home.
It was a pleasant walk, he thought. He sat in the exact place he did the day before, just staring at the descending sun, accompanied by all kinds of colors. He wished George would come here again, maybe say something along the lines of 'It’s cold, you know?' or whatever else he would have to say. Just something. He really doubted he’d see him again today, though. Not after he answered not-so-politely to him just being concerned and thoughtful. Dream was sure he screwed up.
He was ready to break down, to let it all out, confess his secrets to some lonely flowers growing among the grass. What stopped him was a quiet sound, rustling, like an unsure foot being set down onto the grass.
He slowly turned his head around, not allowing himself to get his hopes too high; though the spark never left. And when he saw him, standing there again, he felt like he could cry. He tried to fight off a smile, giving up shortly, just to say something.
”You came again.” He could’ve sworn, this is what floating must feel like. He was grinning like a little child.
”Yeah. I did. And it’s kind of cold again, don’t you think?”
”I don’t care. You wanna sit?”
George looked startled for a moment, before sitting down, not too close, and kept his gaze fixed on his own shoes.
”Uh.. Sorry for not being exactly nice the other day, i guess.”
At that, George looked at Dream with confusion.
”What do you mean? I’m sorry for interrupting your moment”
”It’s okay, don’t worry about that. I didn’t really mind.”
A small smile appeared on his lips, his eyes darting off to the ground again. Dream couldn’t help but look at him, the pinkish glow of the setting sun once again shining on his features, making him look like an otherworldly being, angelic, ethereal.
He wanted to run his fingers through his hair, feel the soft strands against his fingers. Wanted to cup his face, stare into his eyes; again, just for a little while. He wanted to reach out, hold his hand.
”You’re staring. Again.” George didn’t look uncomfortable or mad, though. Just a playful remark to embarrass Dream.
”That’s on you for being stare worthy.”
A light blush spread across his face, his eyes more daring now, searching, not looking away. Dream smiled softly, looked at the sun, now nearly gone, and back at George.
The stars were becoming visible now; little spots of light decorating the sky. The sun wasn’t there to provide warmth anymore. Dream noticed George started to shiver lightly.
”Can I move closer? It’s a bit cold and I thought-”
He didn’t get to finish his thought when he felt a body pressing against his own. With a fond expression, he moved his arm and put it around George’s shoulders in an attempt to help him warm up a little.
His breath hitched, and after a split second of hesitation, George put his head on Dream’s shoulder. He smiled, and they just sat there, sharing a comfortable silence.
George lifted his head up, looking at Dream. He looked back at him, admiring the reflection of a million stars in his eyes.
“You’re beautiful.”
”Can I kiss you?”
Dream nodded slowly, leaning in, moving his hand up to touch George’s hair, cup his face, trace his lips with his thumb. George leaned in, too. Their lips met, soft plush, moving against each other, a warm feeling of finding a way back after getting lost; the world just melting away. The cold of the night disappears for them for a while; not bothering them anymore, the dark providing comfort instead of dread.
As they pull away, it only takes one look to be pulled back in.