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Pale yellow sunlight shines in through Dream’s bedroom window and straight onto his closed eyelids. Slowly, the brightness and the subtle warmth it brings pull him out of his deep sleep.
He opens his eyes and lays still for a while. It has been too long since he has slept so well, he checks his phone showing 9:08 am — and woken up at such a reasonable time.
As his mind comes to, memories from the night before resurface. Dream had a long day of meetings and editing and was so tired he fell asleep the moment his head hit his pillow. He barely saw George all of yesterday since both of them were busy in their respective rooms.
He hopes the brunet slept as well as him despite Dream not being there to comfort him into his headspace. George struggles to sleep without being regressed, something he had confided in Dream one honest evening. Maybe he slipped without Dream there?
As if on cue, a small knock is heard on Dream’s closed door and he has no time to react before the boy in question walks in. Dream watches from his pillow as George closes the door behind him and steps timidly toward the bed. His hands are clutching a baby blue plushie and he wears soft navy pajamas and a slight pout on his lips.
Dream takes his look as confirmation that he did, in fact, slip last night and is still in his headspace now.
“You okay, baby?” He asks through a yawn.
George tenses visibly at the pet name and a blush creeps up his neck. “Oh, uh—I’m not small,” he mumbles.
Dream can feel his face growing warmer now, too. “Oh,” is all he says.
“I haven’t slept,” the brunet continues quietly, shuffling his feet and bringing the plushie up to hold with both hands.
Dream watches him with furrowed brows. “Why not?
George looks up for a moment before averting his eyes just as quickly. “Couldn’t slip yesterday and I didn’t want to bother you while you were asleep.”
The blond suddenly regrets going to bed so early. “I’m sorry, love,” he rubs his eye, “Want me to help you slip so you can sleep now?”
George blushes again but smiles too — maybe pet names aren’t so bad. He hesitates to move closer, though.
“Only if you have time. And want to,” uncertainty seeps through his voice.
Dream props himself up a little on his pillow and lifts his duvet as an invitation.
“I always have time for you and I always want to help you.” George continues to stand still, making Dream roll his eyes. “C’mere baby,” he encourages.
George scoffs lightly, “I’m not a baby.” He moves towards the soft mattress and lets himself be wrapped in the blond’s warm arms, plushie and all.
“You will be soon,” Dream mumble into the boy’s dark hair, pulling his smaller body close to his chest. George melts in his touch in no time.
The boy feels so pliable in his arms already, but Dream knows it’ll take more for him to succumb fully to little space. He has spent all night trying after all.
Dream thinks of what his mother told him about the ways she used to soothe him when he was a baby. He remembers something about gentle pets in the palm of his hands and how that would always do the trick.
You’d be out like a light in minutes, she had said. Dream hopes the same will go for George.
And so he tries it, holding the brunet’s small hand in one of his own and using his other to trace little hearts and swirls into a pale palm. George reacted at first and tried pulling his hand away from the ticklish feeling, but Dream kept it steady and they both relaxed after a while.
Dream almost falls back asleep himself in the comfort of closeness with the boy in his arms but is stopped when said boy begins to writhe under the covers, hand slipping out of Dream’s. He lets out a small sound, one akin to a meow or a whine, and Dream instantly knows that he must have regressed, finally.
“Georgie,” his voice is muffled by the other’s hair. Dream moves to rest his chin further up.
George shuffles around some more and ends up rolling over so they are laying chest to chest. He tucks his head closer to the warm blond, head dipping under the covers to reach his broad chest.
“Are you tired, baby? I think you are,” Dream coos quietly, using a hand to fold the duvet so it no longer covers the brunet’s face.
Brown eyes look up at him and blink slowly as if to confirm that he is feeling ready for some sleep. Dream holds him close, maneuvering them so George can lay his head comfortably on the pillow.
“Just close your eyes, darling. You can sleep now, okay?” The boy lets his eyes fall shut the moment Dream says the words, almost like he was waiting for permission.
Seconds pass and soon enough, George is breathing slow and soft, his head lax on the pillow. Dream lets himself study his features for a few moments, admiring how the morning sun hits his brown curls just right. He looks so peaceful.
Then, he presses a loving kiss to the boy’s forehead, and one to each cheek (plus one to his chin for good measure), before slowly lifting the covers off of himself and retucking them around George.
Silently, he stands up from the bed and tiptoes to the window to draw the curtains, settling his bedroom in pitch darkness. From there he beelines for the door despite seeing absolutely nothing in front of him, before reaching a hand out to locate the cool handle and stepping out into the hall.
He squints his eyes as he closes the door the quietest he can and then finally lets go of the brass handle. A sudden noise from behind him makes him jump.
“Why are you sneaking out like that?” It is Sapnap, obviously.
Dream lets out a breath once he sees the other and starts walking toward the kitchen. “Why are you up so early?” He counters in reply.
He can sense Sapnap following him. “11 am isn’t that early. Now, don’t avoid my question,” he presses, picking his own pace up to a jog in order to step in front of the blond. Dream ponders the time for a moment — he and George laid there for longer than he thought.
Sapnap has him cornered now, and Dream has to come clean. “George is sleeping in there,” he mumbles and pushes past the other to reach the fridge while struggling to keep the smile on his face hidden.
His friend splutters, “George is in your bed? Why?”
Dream smirks to himself, taking a good look at the shelves in the fridge before closing it. Nothing good in there anyway. He walks over to the bar where a bewildered Sapnap is now sitting and grabs a pear off the counter before turning around and heading for the doorway.
“Dream! Answer me!” Sapnap calls after him.
To which Dream replies a simple, "Nope!"
He steps into his office and boots up his computer for the day, leaving lots of inevitable questions behind in the kitchen.
But George’s secret is safe with him and what the two of them have together, whatever label it fits under, is best kept between them.
It doesn't take him long to settle into his editing, but not before shooting a quick text to George for him to see when he wakes up later
dream: hope u slept like a baby x