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Dream was awoken by the soft scratches by the door. He had always been a light sleeper, often ensuring that he falls asleep in complete silence and darkness so as to prevent any potential sources that may drag him away from his slumber. Admittedly, some of the practices he did before sleep had since stopped, upon the presence of the brown-haired British boy who is lying dormant in his arms. Dream sighs, trying to adjust his eyes to the bright rays of sun that managed to seep through the cracks in the curtain. The scratching at the door has now grown louder, accompanied by soft mewls that could only come from his pet cat Patches.
Luckily for Dream, he sleeps on the right side of the bed and is closer to the door thus allowing his free arm to reach over just enough to twist the doorknob without disturbing George. Patches pushes the door to widen the gap, the smart cat she is, upon realising that she is no longer locked out of her parents’ space. She was rightfully annoyed last night. Although she loves her personal space, she was always allowed in to sleep with Dream and George at the foot of their bed. However, as she tailgates them towards their bedroom last night as per usual, she could not keep up to their fast steps and was ultimately left out.
“I’m sorry baby, you have to keep it down. George is still asleep! Sssshhh..” Dream whispers to Patches with one finger pressed to his lips as a signal to quieten her meows.
Dream smiles at Patches, who managed to hop onto his side of the bed and lay down with a curl to her tail, elegantly wrapping around her orange-tinted brown coat. Dream can’t help but be reminded of last night- of him kissing George with enough fervour and desperation to stumble clumsily towards their bedroom, to the point Patches was left outside. (What happens after the kiss was a secret only both George and Dream can share, for it was a series of muffled whimpers and bed creaks that echoed and could be heard from the common room)
The ache had started to spread from Dream’s lower back, all the way down to his thighs, so he makes an attempt to turn and face the sleeping George, peacefully pressed against his chest, in order to reach some form of comfort in the new position. He stares at George.
Vulnerable, quiet and absolutely adorable as he let out soft breaths. His soft and dainty fingers were gripping Dream’s flesh at his sides while his legs were wrapped possessively around one of Dream’s. Dream hovers his free hand over George’s face in an attempt to block the sun rays that shone brightly on his features as though God wanted to remind him that he was chosen- that he was special. Dream then proceeds to tuck the stray lock of George’s wavy hair behind one of his ears and runs his thumb across his freckled cheek in pure admiration of the ethereal sight. He stills when George shifts.
George scrunched his nose as though a dust particle landed on it out of annoyance, before softening his face and let out a prolonged sigh. It was clear that he was still marred by fatigue and slumber so he nuzzles closer into Dream. The arms around Dream tightening as if he was clinging onto him like his life depended on it. Dream swoons.
As Dream reciprocates the tight embrace, he thinks about how much he loves George. He loves waking up next to him like this every morning. He loves the feeling of soft, malleable pale flesh pressed up against tan, calloused ones. He loves how George looks at him like he was the most attractive person he’s seen. Simultaneously, Dream swears that George looks the most beautiful to him. He loves that George cares for him, his needs, as well as for his friends and families like they are his own. George was perfect to Dream. Despite the witty, sarcastic and downright bratty attitude that George sometimes exudes, Dream recognises that it’s what makes George special. Having someone challenge his massive ego and put him in his place unlike others around him who suck up to his demands, especially after the newfound fame he’s attained as of late.
He finds it hard to connect to people he could trust. It seems as though everyone was waiting to see his downfall, weaponizing his generosity and kindness merely to get something out of him for themselves. Fortunately for him, he has Sapnap and George, as well as his family members, who could ground him and be truthful with him.
Dream notices, amidst the fast-moving thoughts that blurred everything around him, that George’s white marble skin on his neck was marked by red-purple moons- a reminder of their shenanigans from when the sun dipped low over the horizon and darkness encompassed the both of them while they were wrapped around (in) each other. Speaking of suns and moons, it dawned on Dream how much his world changed after George. It was as though everything in the universe finally made sense. The constellations that painted the dark sky reminds him of George’s array of freckles that spread across his nose bridge and his back. He knew that for their love, he would travel to Jupiter and to the moons of Mars to see his George- to make him happy. And they did. They traversed 4 thousand miles of distance, which to them felt like a roundtrip through the Milkyway, to be with each other and withstood the challenges that accompanied it. No sun could shine brighter than George’s smile that reached his eyes, forming wrinkles at the sides.
“You wanna tell me what’s in that big head of yours?” Dream freezes upon hearing George’s gravelled, tired, morning voice.
Dream blushes a pink hue. A sheepish grin plastered across his face in embarrassment. He shakes his head and runs his hand through George’s fluffy hair, breaking out of his trance. He blushes harder when George leans into the touch and closes his eyes, signifying that he was relishing in the feeling of Dream’s hand massaging his scalp.
George holds the wrist of Dream’s hand that was in his hair and tugs the hand down to plant kisses on his palm. Dream lets out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding in, and simply says “I love you”, before planting a chaste kiss on George’s lips. He silently hopes it was enough of an answer. He doesn’t want to be probed further in fear of breaking the dam of tears that threatened to cascade down his eyes. Of course, George notices the shift in atmosphere and knows that something was bothering the love of his life.
George cups Dream’s face in his hands, holding him with pure concern. He gazes into Dream’s eyes and searches it, for anything at all that may point to the silent treatment he was getting in the morning.
“Did you get a nightmare? Why didn’t you wake me up? You know I’ll wake up if you need anything, Is it because I stole the blanket? I’m sorry it got cold..” George trails off, his mind going a million miles an hour.
Dream chuckles and leans into George, kissing him slowly and softly. “You know you’re enough to keep me warm. You can take as much blanket as you want. Don’t worry about it. Hurry let’s get out of bed. As much as I want to stay in here and kiss you all morning,” he peers over at the clock on his bedside table and notices that it’s almost 12 pm, “I mean all day-” he continues. “we have to get up and get ready for Drista. I’m sure Sapnap is on the way with her.”
He loves spending time with his family- that is, 2 of his best friends and his sister- surrounded by giggles, bickering and mess. Pillows almost always end up on the floor, chairs displaced and the kitchen counter proudly presenting a buffet gone wrong. Crumbs of snacks littered across the floor while heaps of blankets seemed to bury their belongings (and their limbs).
They agreed to watch a movie, one that Drista insisted on picking. Dream had been silent most of the afternoon, besides the occasional grunts and nods in agreement or opposition. He was either hidden in the corner of the room, arms crossed as he leans his attractive physique lazily against the wall or attached to George at the hip, helping him prepare mugs of hot chocolate and cups of soda, depending on what the rest of them wanted to have.
Drista plopped at the centre of the couch, pulling a blanket to her lap used the television remote to set up the movie she wanted to see. Sapnap sat on her left, legs propped up on the coffee table while he scrolled through his Twitter feed. Dream was next to join them, sitting to the right of Drista after being sent away by his boyfriend. “It’s fine, sit with your sister. I got this.” George had said.
Frankly, Dream hadn’t paid attention to the movie. His arm was slung over George’s shoulder and his fingers drew mindless patterns on George’s collarbones and arm. Drista was leaning against him too, her head wedged between Dream’s neck and shoulder. Pure comfort and adoration radiated between the pair of siblings through a simple gesture. Sapnap had dozed off, his head leaning against the armrest that was sure to leave soreness in his neck upon waking up later.
“Dream? I know you’re hiding something for me. Don’t pretend I haven’t noticed you being weird today.” Drista muttered, tone soft and filled with innocent inquisition. “I made a mess out of your kitchen, and you didn’t say anything.” It was odd- to want to start a fight- but they both knew it was always light-hearted. Except this time, all she felt was an oppressive heaviness that she can’t help but cast aside.
Dream tore his empty gaze away from the television to meet his sister’s green eyes. He blinks. Startled but somewhat glad that the inevitable moment had finally arrived. “I’m just- I don’t know… overwhelmed?” He started, voice shaky and uncertain.
He was met with silence. George shifted, tightening his arms around Dream’s waist while his head lowered to rest at the centre of Dream’s chest. It was a silent gesture for him to elaborate. Dream took a moment, breathing in George’s cinnamon-vanilla scent that emanated from his long, curly brown locks.
He meets Drista’s eyes again.
“I woke up today and a sudden wave of realisation hit me- I guess? A realization that everything I have right now can just disappear”
He snaps his fingers, “just like that... gone.”
Drista shakes her head. “That’s not something you can control Dream.”
“That’s precisely why I feel so… scared. I’m unprepared. What if one day someone online knows who you are, knows where we live, decides that whatever I’ve created- my Youtube channel, my profile, just anything I own is something they want to take away? I can’t take care of everyone. Not even myself.” His chest tightened while his brain went over scenarios (both future possibilities and flashbacks to previous experiences). The doxxing, death threats, videos of misinformation garnering millions of people's attentions- determined to back him into a corner.
A pause.
Drista takes a deep breath, carefully picking the right words for a response.
“Bullshit.” Is what she settles with.
Dream chuckles, “I pour my heart out to you and you say that? What is wrong with you?”
“You’re an idiot, Dream” George adds. His British accent somehow thickened in this instance despite the years he’s been hanging out with Americans.
“Listen, dumbass.” Drista straightens up from her seat. She swings her legs to rest on Dream’s knees in an attempt to be playfully closer.
“As much as you love to play the hero all the time, it’s not your job to make sure bad people online become good. You can’t put so much pressure on yourself to take care of all of us. Hell, it's impossible to take care of all 25 million of your fans. We can take care of ourselves, PLUS we want to take care of you too. Everyone’s got a part to play.” She continues, her voice gaining strength and assurance.
“You know she’s right, Dream.” George chimes in. “You also know I’m not good with words… but I need you to know that nothing we have lasts forever anyway. Don’t let the fear of possibilities take you away from what we have now. Don’t let that be more worth it than this.” He waves his arms carelessly, gesturing at them, at Sapnap and at the house.
Drista shifts too, wrapping her arms around Dream, making do with whatever space left by George. Her arms knocking against George’s that were situated around Dream’s abdomen.
Dream lets out a sigh, which morphed into a shy giggle. He swipes away a reckless teardrop that managed to escape from his eyes.
“Thank you guys” was all he managed to say as his lips quivered. He bites his bottom lip in an attempt to suppress the dam of tears that threatened to flow and crash through everything in its way. It wasn’t out of sadness- no. It was from a long-awaited feeling of relief. Gratitude and love.
The mood gradually lifted as the sun began to set. Sapnap had woken up and noticed the mood change too, patting Dream in the back- a small gesture of “I’m glad you figured it out”. They were playing Mortal Kombat and Drista was absolutely destroying George at the game. Shrieks of laughter and excitement bubbled through their chests while Dream watched. He had prepared extra pillows for Drista since she had decided to stay the night.
As midnight crept in, everyone retreated to their sleeping spaces, leaving Dream and George to clean up the mess in the living room. They had only the moonlight seeping through the full-length windows and a lamp near the couch to illuminate the room. They cleaned in comfortable silence. Once they were done, George stepped towards Dream, stopping him from disappearing into the walkway and into their room.
They were standing in the middle of the room, George looking ethereal as the moon decided to bless him with a ray of light that accentuated the sparkle in his eyes. Dream took the opportunity to hold him by the waist while his other free hand reached up to hold his jaw. His thumb gently rubbing light swipes across George’s freckles. Dream’s eyebrows instinctually furrowed up, albeit slightly, as though trying to read George’s mind.
George covers Dream’s hand that was holding his jaw with his own, and steps impossibly closer. He peered up at his dark green eyes through his long lashes, while his other hand traced the wrinkles that formed from Dream’s furrowed brows.
“Feeling better?” George whispers, nervously nipping at his own bottom lip while he trails his gaze from his eyes to the slight crook in his nose-bridge, down to his lip that looked absolutely kissable in the moonlight.
Dream smirks. A naughty, boyish smile that came straight out of a flirtatious fraternity vibe.
“Yes, George” he mumbles, his voice oozing with overwhelming fondness only reserved for the love of his life.
“I missed you. You’ve been distant all day… but I'm glad you could talk to Drista.” George lowers his voice, his eyes looking down in tandem. He stared down their socked toes as a means to hide his vulnerability. Dream wasn’t having it.
He tilts George’s head up, a slight nudge for George to meet his eyes again before he closed the little gap they had between them in a soft kiss. They sighed into each other, releasing tension and a breath they didn’t know they held. Their lips fell into routine yet it feels special to them every time.
“I’m right here, love” Dream managed to say between kisses.
Dream sealed his words, cementing it into George’s mind with a prolonged kiss that wasn’t heated by lust. Just love. And George takes it. How can he not- if it meant that his chest would swell up with adoration and a feeling of wholeness?
They eventually pulled away. A stupid, innocent grin marred their faces as they rested their foreheads against each other.
“I love you.” Dream says. Honest. Straightforward. Directly from the pit in his heart.
George nuzzles his nose against Dream’s and smiles ever so widely. “It’d be weird for you to kiss me like that if you didn’t” and Dream knows that he meant “I love you too.”