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For as long as Prince Dream could remember, he couldn’t see his own reflection. He knew what he looked like, from portraits and his family (he was told often that he looked just like his father, a point of pride for him), but whenever he looked into a mirror, a body of water, anything reflective, he saw someone else. A thin man with piercing brown and blue eyes, heterochromatic as his mother explained. His dark brown hair was cropped short, just long enough to be fluffy on the top. His skin was pale, freckles sparsely decorating his cheeks, and while his clothes changed day to day, he dressed more simply than Dream was allowed to. He wasn’t struggling, but he was not in the robes of royalty.
Soulmates were a rare phenomenon and it was even rarer for people to find the other half of their pair. More common in those with magical abilities but still few and far between, little was known about soulmate bonds. Legends said that they were formed after a powerful enchantress was separated from her lover. She cast a spell on her mirror so that she could watch wherever her lover went, but her grief was so strong that the spell was amplified tenfold. The blast of the spell coated the world, making it so that any divine love pair could see one another in themselves. To everyone but the pair, however, their reflections were normal, letting the bond remain as private as the parties involved wanted it to be. According to Dream’s mother, if you were born with a soulmate, then that meant that your love would be able to change the course of history.
Dream’s father did his best to dissuade these stories, telling him that they were just legends. Even if they had some truth, his son was the crown prince. He couldn’t have a commoner for a soulmate - something Dream had let slip as a child by asking why they didn’t dress nice - not when Dream was ‘an struggle enough as is’. His mother would nod and agree, but in private, she would encourage him to follow his heart.
“You were given this life for a reason, my dear,” she reassured him, pushing back his golden blonde hair. He had been growing it out again at his father’s insistence, long enough now to pull into a low ponytail. His mother arranged it into a more masculine style for him. “Let yourself live and love as you wish.”
Dream tried to internalize that. Let yourself live and love as you wish. Even as his father paraded him around like he was nothing more than a boyish princess, just needing to be tamed by potential suitors, he reminded himself of his mother’s words. Let yourself live and love as you wish. Even as other nobles looked down on him for forgoing dresses or using masculine titles, he reminded himself. Let yourself live and love as you wish.
Despite his ‘struggles’, his father loved him enough to be concerned about his safety, stopping him before he went to his bedchamber after a court ball. He looked up at his father, straightening his posture so they stood at the same height.
“Dream, my dear,” his father started gruffly. He was getting better with the name. Dream smiled just enough to notice. “I was speaking to the head of the guard tonight and he raised some concerns for your safety. Especially as you come of age to take a suitor, there are increasing threats to your health and we thought it would be best for you to take on a personal guard. A knight would be able to watch out for you, no matter where you go.”
“Sapnap?” Dream asked, hopeful. “Are you assigning me Sapnap?”
His father’s frown creased.
“I cannot believe they would assign me a complete stranger as a knight. He’s going to be with me day in and day out and my father doesn’t even know what he looks like! I’ve never met him! This man is going to be standing in my bedchamber at night!” Dream paced back and forth along the dirt just out back of the stables, where the sturdy building provided privacy from the peering eyes of the castle. Sapnap sat against the stables' walls, watching him pace with an amused grin. “I can’t believe you’re just grinning at me right now. Shouldn’t you be concerned? If anyone should be my knight, it’s you!”
“I’m just flattered you want me in your bedroom so badly,” Sapnap joked, barely dodging the rock Dream scooped up from the ground and launched at him in response. It clattered noisily against the wooden wall. “It’ll be fine, Dream. If he does anything weird, just let me know, okay? I trust the head of the guard. If they assigned someone besides me, it’ll be for a good reason.”
“I don’t like it,” Dream said. He pouted and dropped down into the dirt next to him, not worried about ruining his clothing. He had changed into a set of Sapnap’s cheaper clothing in the knights’ barracks, as he usually did when he wanted to sneak off somewhere with his best friend.
The two had met when they were younger, Sapnap training as a squire on the guard as a young teen and Dream just starting to transition. Dream had snuck into the barracks to try and steal men’s clothing when he ran straight into Sapnap. He hadn’t recognized the prince at the time, not until Dream started spluttering out excuses and threats, and Sapnap had just laughed in his face once he realized what was going on. He gave Dream his clothes - a habit they never got over, even once Dream grew taller and broader - and showed him how to sneak out of the palace. The two had been attached at the hip ever since, notorious around the palace for causing accidental (and sometimes purposeful) mischief.
“What if your knight is like, cute though?” Sapnap asked with a grin, leaning into Dream’s shoulder. “What’s his name? I might know him.”
“He’s from the neighboring kingdom, Notfoundland, you’ve probably never met him,” Dream said, sighing. “And he’s not going to be cute. Even if he was, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want some strange man in my space.”
“Wow, that’s an awfully long name.”
Dream managed a laugh at Sapnap’s dumb joke, rolling his eyes. “George Lore. His name is George Lore.”
Sapnap nodded. “Yeah, I’ve never met him. Well, let’s just hope he’s hot. Then you guys can go on double dates with me and library boy.”
“Library boy as in the court magician whose name you don’t know and you’ve never spoken to?”
“Yeah, him.” Sapnap gave a dreamy sigh, falling back against the wall with a swoon, and Dream laughed. “Once I talk to him and once you get your hot knight boyfriend. You and me. Double date.”
“The knight could be like, 40,” Dream said and Sapnap clambered to his feet. He turned, offering Dream a hand up as well, and he took it. His friend lifted him straight up onto his feet, muscle built up from his many years of squire training and knighthood. Dream wasn’t exactly dainty, but in comparison, he was easy to drag around.
“He won’t be. I can feel it in my bones. Your personal knight is gonna be as cute as a button.”
Sapnap was wrong. His personal knight wasn’t as cute as a button; he was cuter than literally everything on the planet. Except maybe Dream’s cat Patches, but even that was a tight competition.
He was also the man Dream saw in his reflection, a realization that rendered him frozen. It had taken him a moment after he took his helmet off for Dream to process that, trying to identify why the man’s face was so familiar. The knight shook out his hair to get rid of his helmet hair before looking up to make eye contact with him, and Dream inhaled sharply as he saw his eyes. The man had the same mismatched gaze of his soulmate.
Dream’s hearing felt like it cut out as the knight bowed before the royal family, unable to process any of the words that were being exchanged. Though he had described his soulmate to his parents before, clearly he hadn’t used enough detail, as neither of them seemed to realize what was going on. His soulmate barely even glanced his way after their initial eye contact, focusing on the king instead. Dream didn’t care. All he could see was George.
“Dream, dear?” His mother’s voice was what finally dragged him back to reality, jumping and looking at her. “You may return to your bedchamber now. Show Sir George the way.”
“Of course, mother,” he responded, rising from his throne by her side. He gave George a small smile, waiting for him to reach Dream’s side before beginning to walk to his room. George followed obediently, both of them silent for most of the trip up.
Hallways, painting, tapestries. Usually, these hallways went on forever, but with his soulmate trailing closely behind him, his brain was blurring everything into an excited haze. Finally, they reached his bedroom, and Dream turned back as soon as the door closed behind George. He stepped closer, pressing the knight back up against the door and leaning in with bright eyes. George cringed, blushing pink, and Dream stumbled back a step. “Sorry. Excited. Really excited. You’re-!”
“Your soulmate. I know,” George murmured. He pushed off of the door, walking further into Dream’s room. Dream followed him without question, watching as George walked over to the windows. As if he owned the place, George pulled the curtains open and looked outside, the light reflecting off of the full ornamental armor he wore. Dream wondered in the back of his head if it was uncomfortable. “There’s a reason why I accepted this job.”
“Wow. You’re… you’re real,” Dream said, bouncing on his heels as he tried to keep his excitement from bursting out of him. He didn’t know what to do with his hands, slicking his hair back with one, then dropping it to his side, then clapping his hands together once. “You’re real!”
“You’re different than I imagined,” George responded, seemingly far less excited than Dream was. He stepped back from the window and looked at him less like he was George’s soulmate and more like he was something to study, tilting his head and glancing him over. “Princes are meant to be regal, are they not?”
Princes. George knew he was a prince, and maybe it was common knowledge that he preferred that to princess, but still. Dream blinked, startled for a moment before beaming brightly. “I can- I can be regal! I’m just-!”
“Excited,” George finished for him again. “You’re like a pet dog.”
That made Dream stop fully, spluttering at George’s words. “You- I- Excuse me?”
“I said you’re like a pet dog. Do you have hunting dogs? Have you seen them happy? You’re acting like that.” George looked at him innocently, wearing a small sweet smile, and Dream stared at him.
“I could have you beheaded, you know,” he said reflectively and winced at his own words. Threatening Sapnap was one thing, his best friend knew he didn’t mean it. His knight might not.
“Of course, Prince Dream.” George tilted his head back, looking more smug than afraid. Dream couldn’t tell if he was offended at that or relieved. “Have me beheaded then.”
“Oh, you’re a sarcastic one,” came a new voice and they both startled and turned back to the door. Sapnap stood in the entryway, grinning at them. “Hi Dreamie. If anyone asks, you summoned me here and I’m not shirking on duties.”
“What do you mean? Of course I called you here,” Dream replied smoothly as Sapnap slid the door closed behind him, just as silent as he entered. “How much did you hear?”
“Most of your conversation,” he replied easily. He walked in and nodded to George, far more closed off and silent now. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Dream’s dearest friend and one of your fellow knights. Uh, congratulations on the soulmate thing?”
“Dearest friend, hm? Awfully presumptuous,” George said, gaze narrowing at Sapnap, and he threw his head back with a laugh. Dream tried to stammer out a response but Sapnap spoke first.
“Not presumptuous at all, he told me it all himself! Believe me, keep Your Highness here up past his bedtime and he will tell you the sappiest things in the world and promise it’s all true. He’s as soft as a cat’s belly.” Sapnap slung an arm across Dream’s shoulders, tightening his grip when he tried to shake the knight off. Dream sighed, looking back at George. He looked at them curiously for a moment, seeming to take a moment to consider their dynamic before a smile slowly crept across his face.
“Is that so? What other things has he said then?”
Dream groaned as Sapnap lit up like a fireplace, immediately slamming into an embarrassing story about the prince.
“I wonder what would happen if we both looked in a mirror together,” Dream mused, looking back at George as he followed him dutifully. He wasn’t wearing his full armor now, the entire suit impractical for day-to-day use. Instead, he wore a plain leather chestplate and matching bracers. They were walking through the palace’s courtyard together, accompanied by the soft sound of songbirds. “Would we be able to see ourselves in the other’s reflection?”
His knight tilted his head, eyebrows raising as he thought. Dream was familiar with his mannerisms now, even after just a week. They were familiar, nearly identical to the habits Dream had. Enough that even Sapnap commented on it, teasing them for their ‘stupid soulmate bond’.
“If you would like to investigate, my prince, we can. The pond is right there.” George gestured his head further down the path and Dream could feel himself perk up at the phrase ‘my prince’. George’s. He was George’s and he was his prince- He remembered George’s excited dog comment and tried to shake it off before he blushed.
“Perfect!” Dream broke off from the path to bound over to the pond, peering over the edge before George could. His knight’s face looked back up at him, wearing his own goofy grin. “The only time I ever see you smile is in my own reflection.”
“I smile plenty, I just don’t bare all my teeth like you do.” George huffed as he reached Dream’s side, hesitating for a moment before he leaned forward.
In the pond, Dream’s face stared up at George, distorted gently by the rippling water. Dream looked at the reflection with wide eyes. It was strange, seeing his own face after a lifetime of his soulmate instead.
His face was covered in freckles. He didn’t know that and he startled at the realization, gaze darting around to take them all in. All their royal portraits removed his mother’s freckles, considering them blemishes, but no one ever told him that they did the same to him. His eyes weren’t as bright green as they were in the paintings either, a deeper shade with an odd intensity to it. His golden blonde hair framed the soft edge of his face, longer than ever as it reached his shoulders. Dream’s stomach churned as he saw the feminine curve of his cheek and he jerked back, tearing his eyes away from his reflection.
“My prince?” George asked, concern laced in his voice, and Dream gave him a shaky smile.
“That was odd, huh?”
George was silent a moment, looking up at him, then nodded. “Yes. Yes, it was.”
Dream wasn’t sure what he was expecting when he met his soulmate. Maybe a whirlwind romance, running off to some faraway land with his love. Soft touches, lingering gazes, everything that he admired so much watching others fall in love. Even if he couldn’t be with his soulmate marriage-wise - and it didn’t seem he would, not with the suitors his father had lined up for him to meet - he at least thought he could have his soulmate as a lover.
George didn’t seem interested. He got along with Dream well enough, snarky and teasing to Dream’s eager and flirty ways. Sometimes, when Dream stumbled or dropped something and George swooped in to help, his touch would linger, long enough for Dream to look at him curiously. Sometimes, he would turn to find George watching him, too fond and curious to be the attentive protection of a personal guard. Sometimes, Dream would let out his wheezing cackle and he would catch George blushing a pretty pink at the sound. Sometimes, sometimes, sometimes. Most of the time, however, George maintained a careful distance, warm but strictly in the way a friend would be. Whenever Dream tried to talk about them being soulmates, George would change the topic or just nod until Dream gave up on carrying the conversation himself.
Only once, late at night when he couldn’t sleep, he got George to talk about them being soulmates. George was given a room connecting to his own, so it was easy enough to knock on the thin wooden door and rouse his knight. George was at the door in an instant, sword already clasped in his hand and his eyes wide.
“What is it, my prince?” he asked, tone worried, and Dream’s insides flipped. My prince. “Are you safe?”
“I couldn’t sleep and was wondering if you would speak to me,” Dream said, slow and awkward, and George lowered his sword.
“You just want to talk? Dream, you…” George trailed off, shaking his head and standing up straight. In a more formal tone, he corrected himself. “Apologies, Prince Dream, you startled me. I will be with you again in a moment, let me put my sword down.”
Dream nodded, heart still pounding to the beat of my prince. He made his way back to his bed at a meandering pace, barely reaching it by the time George re-emerged from his room. Dream fell back against the pillows and patted the spot next to him.
“Lay with me?”
“I shouldn’t, Your Highness,” George said and Dream pouted up at him. They matched gazes for a moment before the knight scoffed, deflating. “You’ve already given me a fright tonight. The last thing I need is you clinging to me like a child’s toy.”
“What if I commanded you to lay with me?” Dream raised an eyebrow and George rolled his eyes.
“I would say you were a spoiled brat who has always gotten his way.” Regardless, George lowered himself to the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress. Dream raised a hand and buried his fingers in the back of George’s sleep shirt, trying to tug him closer. George held steady and Dream lamented, as he often did, his unassuming figure that hid how strong he really was. Dream tugged again, too tired to not let himself whine, and his knight conceded.
“I don’t always get my way,” Dream murmured as George laid down, retracting his hand as the other rolled over to face him. Their faces were only half a foot apart, something George seemed to notice by the way his cheeks flushed pink. “I don’t get you.”
“Quite frankly, I am your personal knight and in your bed right now. I think you get plenty,” George replied, raising a single eyebrow.
“You know that’s not what I mean,” Dream said. He sighed as George’s eyes slid away, a creeping look of guilt on his face. “I was so excited when I learned my soulmate was my knight. I know you don’t care as much as I do, I’m trying to be okay with that. It hurts, though. I want to matter to you.”
“Of course I care that you’re my soulmate,” George replied, voice much softer than Dream’s. Dream froze, feeling his cheeks turn red with warmth as his knight carefully spoke. He said every word slow but certain as if he had thought about this exact interaction a million times. “If I did not care that you are my soulmate, I never would have taken this position. Do you know how elated I was when I was told that I was one of the ones chosen to be considered for the job? Of course, my fellow knights were honored, but I was over the moon. Just the thought of being passed over felt like agony. I will never stop thanking fate for bringing me to your step, even if I put all my life into becoming a knight just so that this moment could pass.”
“You became a knight for me?” Dream asked, so quiet that he thought George might not have heard him. There was a pause, heavy and still, then George’s eyes met his again. His gaze seemed to stare straight into Dream’s soul, intense and lingering. He felt seen, inside and out, and his breathing stopped for a moment.
“Everything I’ve done in my life was just so I might have a chance of meeting you. Ever since I first asked my mother why my reflection was on a tapestry, sitting on the lap of the queen of the Taken Kingdom and she explained to me who you were, everything has been for you. My mother told me that knights serve royalty, so I trained with swords and local farmhands until I was talented enough to impress a low-ranking knight. I socialized with every Knights’ Guild member I could until I made enough of an impression to become a squire for a royal knight,” George narrated, still holding Dream’s gaze. He couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.
“You did all that even though it might not have done anything?” he asked and George nodded as if it was as simple as breathing. “Being a royal knight doesn’t mean you would have met me. I haven’t even heard of most of the knights of Notfoundland.”
“But you’ve heard of me,” George said, tone loftier now, and Dream broke into a gentle laugh. The tension of his intense gaze finally broke, letting Dream close his eyes and escape that hypnotic staring content.
“I have heard of you,” he agreed, laughing again. Blindly, he reached his hand out between them. George’s hand met his and relief crashed through his body as he laced their fingers together. “I wish I knew more.”
“What do you want to know, Your Highness?”
“You don’t have to call me that. You can just call me Dream.” He opened his eyes slowly. “Tell me anything you can think of.”
It didn’t take long after that for Dream to drift off to sleep, lulled by the dulcet tones of George’s voice. Stories of his childhood spent playing on the streets, his training with various knights, different weapons he had used and which he preferred. He remembered George describing the feeling of getting a bull’s eyes for the first time as his eyes fell shut. His knight spoke for a moment more before trailing off and the last thing he felt was George’s lips pressed to his forehead, brief as the flap of a butterfly’s wings before he pulled away.
“Good night, my prince.”
My prince.
Dream drifted asleep.
Dream almost thought he imagined that night except for George’s loosening formality. Though he maintained cool professionalism around Dream’s family and court members, in private, he was looser with his words.
“Dream’s right. You’re a fucking chicken,” George said dully, leaning against Sapnap’s shoulder. “Just go say hi. He’s not even doing anything interesting, just staring out the window.”
“You’d be doing him a favor, I bet he’s bored,” Dream agreed and Sapnap groaned.
The three were crammed together behind one of the towering bookcases in the palace’s library, peering out between books like children playing hide and seek to stalk Library Boy. Sapnap’s long-term crush was curled up on the windowsill, staring out the glass pane with a faraway expression, his brown hair turned gold around the edges in the fading sun. In his lap was a large impressive tome, but they hadn’t seen him turn a page in the past ten minutes.
“I can’t,” Sapnap said, voice weak. “He’s probably busy doing some magic thing in his head.”
“You’re annoying,” George said and started walking out from the bookcase. Sapnap gasped, jerking as if he was torn between lunging after him and freezing in fear. George continued on, unperturbed as he approached the court magician.
He tapped him on the shoulder, light and soothing, and said something to him too softly for Dream to make out. The magician glanced back at them, his odd purple swirling eyes landing directly on where Sapnap was leaning halfway around the bookcase. The four of them were still for a moment, all just looking at each other, before the magician stood and walked over to Sapnap.
“You can do fire magic?” he asked, as softly as he could with the clear excitement in his voice. “I’m Karl! Can you show me some of your magic so that I can record it for my research?”
“I- yes, of course, I can do that for you,” Sapnap stumbled to answer. “Uh, when would be best for you? Today? I’m free until sundown today, which isn’t all too much more time, but we can probably get some stuff done. Oh. I’m Sapnap.”
George leaned around the pair to look at Dream as Karl started prattling on excitedly. He smirked, raising an eyebrow, and Dream stifled a laugh.
Once again, Dream found himself knocking on George’s door in the midst of the night. Though it had happened a few times now, he didn’t usually give himself the luxury. His knight didn’t get many days off, he couldn’t rob him of all of his sleep, even if he wanted to.
Every single time, George appeared quickly, sword held in his fist.
“Are you alright, my prince?”
My prince.
“I don’t feel like a prince,” Dream said, soft and honest. George’s expression gentled as he took in Dream’s bloodshot eyes and red-tipped nose, resting his sword against the wall.
“Do you want me to lay in bed with you, Dream?”
Dream nodded and let George guide him over to his bed. He curled up on the covers, opening his arms for George to tuck himself into. His knight hesitated for a moment before following the silent command, draping an arm over Dream’s waist. Even with how much smaller George was than him, the simple action made him feel safe. Grounded in reality, rather than the vicious storm his brain was pulling him towards.
“Thank you,” Dream murmured. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” George said firmly. He shuffled closer, pressing his head under Dream’s so that his nose dug into his neck. The touch was cold and he squirmed. “It’s my job to be here for you. I’m supposed to protect you.”
“I know. I always feel protected around you.” Dream adjusted his hands to cling to the front of George’s sleep shirt, the fabric soft under his touch. He played with it without thinking, focusing more on his words. “That feels bad, sometimes. Not bad but… I want to protect you. I’m supposed to be a man. How can I be a man if I can’t protect the people I care about?”
George was silent for a beat, his fingers digging into the shirt bunched up around the small of Dream’s back. “Well, I feel pretty safe right now. You’re taller than me, broader too. I feel protected right here, against your chest.”
Dream was silent as he thought about that revelation. “You… you do?”
“Mhm.” George nuzzled against his neck, that same cold nose, and he fought down a shiver. “I know I am your knight, but you are still my prince. You do just as much for me as I do you.”
The words sunk into Dream like molasses, slow and sweet. It didn’t help everything - Dream wondered often if he would ever feel fully okay in his own skin - but it made something deep in his chest feel warm. George felt safe, tucked up under his chin. Dream protected George.
“Can you stay with me here?” Dream asked and he felt George nod against his skin.
“If you need it, of course. Anything.”
The next day, he cut his hair back down to a short men’s cut with George’s help.
Finally forcing Sapnap to talk to Karl was a blessing. He was tired of his friend uselessly pining, it was good for him to finally spend time with the court magician. Dream just wished that it didn’t mean he now had next to zero time with his closest friend.
“You’re pacing again,” George noted, leaning against the doorway. Dream stopped from where he was wearing holes into his bedroom’s carpet, turning back to George with a long sigh.
“I haven’t snuck out to the forest with Sapnap in a week,” he complained. George huffed.
“Good. It always frightens me when you disappear like that.” George shrugged off the doorway, walking closer to him. Dream opened his mouth to reply then paused, eyeing the sword strapped to George’s belt. “No, Dream.”
“I haven’t even said anything yet.”
“I know what you’re thinking.”
An hour later, Dream and George were walking to the clearing where Dream always took Sapnap, carrying wooden practice swords and a basket of pastries that George had somehow managed to weasel out of the palace. Dream placed the basket down on the ground, sitting next to it and pulling out a danish.
“You’re a spoiled brat,” George said with no real heat. He practiced a few swipes through the air with his sword, adjusting himself to the weight. His normal sword was still hanging from his belt, glinting in the light of the midday and stealing Dream’s attention. “I thought we came out here to spar, not for you to sit and ogle me.”
“I was looking at your sword, don’t flatter yourself,” Dream replied, shoving the rest of his danish in his mouth in one go as he stood.
“I know men like you, Dream. You were staring at my hips,” George said with a sly grin, unhooking his scabbard from his belt and tossing his sword to the side. Dream nearly choked on his food. “Don’t spew crumbs at me, that’s no worse than anything you or Sapnap has said.”
Dream struggled to swallow the pastry, just nodded weakly at him. “Let’s go, get in position.”
George snickered, adjusting his footing and raising up the wooden sword. Dream matched his stance, leaping forward to steal the first move.
Dream had never received formal training for fighting. It was deemed unladylike when he was young and even as he transitioned and his father slowly came around, it was never a subject the court would let him study. His father had the ultimate say, yes, but he was too afraid of backlash to push for Dream to learn more masculine skills. Luckily for Dream, he had Sapnap. Even then, he was far from the world’s best tutor.
Point was, George was handing his ass to him at the moment. He stepped close with a neat swipe, Dream shifting his weight back to avoid the blow. Before he could retaliate, George swung his sword again, quickly gaining ground. Dream stumbled, slipping in the grass and crashing back, and George grinned. He tapped his sword’s point to Dream’s chest.
“One. I didn’t even get to hit you.”
“I was going easy on you,” Dream defended himself, knocking his sword away and getting back to his feet. He shifted back into stance, waving his wooden blade at George. “Again.”
Back and forth, the two sparred, movements growing looser as they went on. Dream was the first to start playing dirty, kicking his foot out to hook behind George’s ankle and tug, hard. The knight fell back, coughing as he hit the ground, and Dream held his sword pointed to his throat.
“Two for me, four for you,” he tallied and George growled.
“You cheated!”
“We never set any rules.” Dream grinned, offering George a hand. He knocked it away, climbing to his feet on his own. Dream found his soulmate’s actions stupidly endearing. “Again?”
“Again.”
George’s movements were fast now, too quick to keep up with. Dream had warmed up enough now to last longer than a few seconds but he was playing too defensively to get a hit in, barely deflecting and wheeling back from the other’s hits. Finally, George hooked his sword around Dream’s, stepping closer and trying to wrestle it from Dream’s grip. They struggled back and forth for a moment before an idea struck the prince.
He tossed both their swords away in one fluid motion, twisting George’s wrist awkwardly. His knight cried out in annoyance and Dream grappled him to the ground, trying to pin him down. George gasped as he hit the ground, fighting back against Dream’s hands.
“What- stop it! What is wrong with you?!” George writhed as much as he could without hurting Dream, trying to buck him off without causing any harm. Dream pressed more of his weight onto him, smugly grinning as his superior size gave him the upper hand. “Get off of me!”
“No. Come on, Georgie, I know you can wrestle me off.” Dream wheezed as his soulmate pouted up at him.
“I can’t without hurting you, you know that.”
“I thought you said you were going to hit me,” Dream teased. George exhaled sharply through his nose, hard enough for Dream to hear it, and he started cackling again.
He shifted, unable to hold still with his laughter, and George took his chance. He surged up, twisting them over and knocking Dream onto his back. His eyes squeezed shut painfully as the wind was knocked out of his chest, George grabbing his wrists and pinning his hands up over his head. He let out a low whine, trying to push the knight off. He held firm, leaning forward to press Dream’s wrists further into the ground.
“Oh no, the delicate little prince is stuck,” he singsonged obnoxiously and Dream’s eyes flew open with a retort about not being little on his tongue. The words caught in his throat when he realized how close their faces were, unable to look anywhere but George’s eyes. The two hues were as pretty as gemstones, going wide as George also realized their proximity. He could see his own reflection in his dark pupils, startled and frozen, and he could feel his face heating up.
George was gorgeous like this, practically straddling him as he pinned Dream against the dirt. His arms were flexed just enough for Dream to make out the strain of his wrists, the tendons there tense, and from this close, he could perfectly make out George’s freckles. He wondered if George was looking at Dream’s freckles as well. He hoped he was. He wanted to be the only thing on this beautiful man’s mind.
“Please,” Dream said softly, unsure of what he was asking for. George seemed to have the answer even if he didn’t, leaning closer and pressing their lips together. Dream’s eyes fluttered shut.
George kissed like he needed it to breathe, his grip tightening on Dream’s wrists as he pressed as tightly as he could against him. Dream tilted his head to meet him just as eagerly, mouth falling open to let George explore it with his tongue. He had never been kissed like this before - had never really kissed at all, except for the occasional suitor who nearly wooed him - and it made his head spin with the intensity. Without thinking, he nipped at George’s tongue, and George bit back against his lower lip much harder. A shudder ran down his spine. George felt like he was everywhere, his teeth on his lip, his chest pressing against Dream’s. He let go of one of Dream’s wrists and brought his hand to his face instead, holding his jaw just as securely, and Dream whimpered quietly.
George’s grip loosened, pulling back from Dream’s lips to blink down at him with hazy eyes. His lips were red and his cheeks were flushed nearly as bright. He licked his lips, pulling some of the color away from them, and Dream realized that the red was blood. He darted his own tongue out, tasting a coppery split in the middle of his lip.
“Sorry,” George said, voice thick as if he needed to clear his throat. Dream vainly wished that his voice could sound like that all the time, husky and freshly kissed. “I’ve just been waiting too long to do that to not leave a mark on you.”
“Do it again,” Dream breathed, tilting his head up for another kiss. “Please?”
“Spoiled,” George said with a roll of his eyes. He leaned in again regardless.