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Dream woke to a rustling at his front door.
The blond had passed out on the sofa after one too many shots of cheap vodka, face plastered into the arm of the couch with his neck craned at the most uncomfortable position possible. He heard it crack along with his spine as he finally rose from his dead slumber, head pounding.
Drunk Dream had never bothered to cover himself in any blankets, nor turn up the thermostat, leaving it to hungover Dream to shiver and warm himself up with his breath that created little clouds in front of his face.
It was ridiculous how cold his apartment got.
For a second, Dream wished to go back to sleep, but a series of soft knocks caught his attention before he could fall back into the hard sofa.
Right. The door.
Dream stumbled over his cat Patches that insisted on brushing between his feet— cringing at the frozen floor that made ice seep through the thin fabric of his socks. He had no idea how her little paws could stand the ice below.
The doorknob was twisted open quickly, and Dream was met with the somehow even colder breeze of the hallway.
Of fucking course there was nobody there. Maybe a stupid kid playing a prank, trying to get Dream pissed off and cold.
He was about to slam the door before he realized the crinkle of plastic against the outside doorknob.
What the…
There was a sheet of paper stuck to the door with a piece of scotch tape, along with a little decorative plastic bag hung on the doorknob. Dream peeled the sheet from the door, staring it down with furrowed brows.
You’ve Been Elfed!
From: George in 3C
Place a sign on your door to show you’ve already been elfed, then pass this paper along to a neighbor along with a little gift!
Merry Christmas!
The bright green and red paper screamed at Dream’s eyes, forcing him to read and reread the text over and over to fully process it. He scoffed finally, the sign crinkling in his grip a little.
That’s stupid.
Dream pulled the bag off the handle and glanced inside through the semi-transparent red plastic. Inside seemed to be an assortment of a handful of cookies. They must have been fresh baked— their warmth clouded the bag a bit and made Dream’s stomach growl.
Cookies may not have been the most nutritious thing to have for breakfast, but they were definitely calling out to Dream. He pulled one out through the zipper, stuffing it into his mouth without even looking at it.
Warm, buttery, crumbly cookie and soft chocolate melted in Dream’s mouth, warming him up just a bit, even with the harsh air of the hallway in his face.
Damn, those are so fucking good. So good they almost made Dream forget about the stupid elf bullshit in his other hand.
Almost.
Dream trailed his attention back to the striped flyer with a little cartoon elf in his grip and rolled his eyes.
‘You’ve Been Elfed’. Yeah, what-fucking-ever.
The thin paper crinkled up in Dream’s fist, fingers crunching it up into a small ball before he tossed it behind him onto the floor of his apartment, slamming the door as he disappeared into his cold home.
Dream barely had time to turn around and pop another cookie into his mouth before a second knock came, making him groan through a mouthful of the sweets. He rolled his eyes again, his dull headache worsening with each thud to the heavy apartment door.
With anger boiling inside Dream’s chest and clouding his thoughts, he ripped the door open, gritting his teeth.
“What do you want?” Dream practically growled.
“You’re so rude!” An accented voice came, “What is your problem?”
Dream glanced down a bit, catching the dark, angry eyes of a pale brunet standing at his doorstep with crossed arms. He stepped back a bit to examine the man’s outfit, stifling a laugh at the stupid santa-dinosaurs on his pajama pants.
“Why’d you throw away the note?” He spat, “And why’d you take the gift? That’s only for if you’re participating!”
Ah. This must be George from 3C.
Dream chuckled a little, taking a bite from the cookie in his hand while the heat from his mouth created puffs of steam in the frozen hallway.
“It’s not fair!” The brunet continued.
“Life isn’t fair.” Dream scoffed. Edgy. “What do you think someone’s gonna do when you leave them food on their doorstep? Besides, I don't do christmas.”
The other raised his brows seemingly taken aback.
“Oh. I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know…” George furrowed his brows again, “But… No matter what you celebrate— it doesn’t change the fact that you’re being fucking rude!”
“What— no,” Dream shook his head, letting out an exasperated sigh, “I don’t celebrate anything. Christmas is fucking stupid, and so are all your dumb little elf gifts.”
“And there you go again!” George scoffed, “Who put that stick up your ass? How could someone not like— That’s besides the point.” He stopped, composing himself with a soft breath, “Give me back my cookies.”
Dream rolled his eyes. He glanced at the half empty bag on his table, reaching to grab it harshly and wave it in front of George’s face. The colorful plastic danced in the brunet’s vision and he reached out to grab it, but Dream yanked his hand away too fast.
In a quick motion, Dream grabbed the last few small cookies from the bag and stuffed them into his mouth, to George’s horror. It took him a minute to be able to chew comfortably, but soon, they were gone, disappearing down his throat with a couple scratchy, half-chewed swallows.
“You are such an insufferable scrooge.” George’s lip twitched.
“Goodbye, George.”
With those words, Dream slammed the door in George’s face. The brunet looked like he had more to say, but it was inaudible through the thick door separating the two. Dream was glad to get away from him— he was starting to get on his nerves.
Despite George’s attitude, Dream had to admit one thing.
He was kind of cute.
Dream wasn’t sure exactly why he didn’t enjoy Christmas.
Maybe it was because it got way too cold and snowy for comfort, and he’s never had a heater to keep him warm at night. Maybe it was the annoying music and decorations that were practically unavoidable. Maybe it was because he never got many gifts from anyone anyway.
There was nothing to be “merry” about.
But George… He seemed so… happy.
Dream watched the shorter through his peephole as he exited his apartment with a small plastic container full of a mess of things. He rummaged through it, pulling out string lights and different little signs and other obnoxious decorations.
By the next time Dream checked, George was gone, and his door was fully decked out with twinkling lights and all.
Dream was almost ready to put their argument in the past, exiting his apartment bundled up, ready to head to work, when he noticed something hanging on his door.
A wreath.
A wreath with red and green tinsel and warm white lights and a big red bow.
Dream rolled his eyes. This was absolutely George’s doing.
He had half a mind to throw the shit out, but it looked… kind of nice. Surprisingly nice. It must have cost him a pretty penny…
Dream quickly locked his door and huffed, crossing to George’s door to knock hard on it. The bells on his door handle jingled when it twisted open.
“May I help— Oh!” George smiled widely. “Hello!”
His apartment smelled heavenly. Soft Christmas music flooded out into the hall, along with the scent of warm chocolate.
“George,” Dream sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “What the fuck is hanging on my door?”
“First of all, ‘hey George, how are you doing today?’ ‘oh, hi! I’m doing well, what about yourself?’” George’s voice got high pitched as he played out the fake conversation, “Second of all, this is the second time we’ve spoken and I still don’t know your name.”
“It’s Dream.” Dream said softly, “Why did you put that shit on my door?”
George made a soft tsk noise, “Just thought you could use some help getting into the Christmas spirit, Dream.”
The way George said his name made Dream’s chest bubble with a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time.
Please, god, don’t let me be in love with this man.
“I don’t need any help, thank you very much.” Dream crossed his arms, but softened a bit as he continued, “But… I’m not getting rid of it. It probably cost you a lot and I’d feel bad. I’m not that much of an asshole.”
George giggled, and it sounded like music. Had the brunet always been so… endearing?
“Yeah, whatever, Dream.”
There was his name again. It fit in George’s mouth so nicely.
“I-I have to, uh…” Dream cleared his throat, “Go to work.”
Without a goodbye, Dream turned and left, letting his cold legs carry him towards the stairwell. This was not good.
Not even one bit.
Over the course of the next week or so, Dream found himself looking up for once— away from his feet on the dark, wet pavement and up at the lights twinkling in the sky. He found himself admiring them in all their glory, accented by branches of balsam and fir trees.
And George. Lots and lots of George.
Dream ran into George so often now.
Yet, despite their quarreling, George never gave him so much as a dirty look whenever they passed each other. In fact, it was rather the opposite— cheery smiles and greetings, quick waves and occasional fresh baked goodies right from the oven as Dream left for work.
Dream pretended he didn’t notice the new rug at his door that read “Merry Christmas!”, and the new little wooden sign below the wreath. George looked so cute sneaking up to his door to give him random little gifts when he thought nobody was there to watch, so Dream didn’t put up a fight.
Only today’s little gift was a simple envelope with Dream’s name, printed neatly with a sharpie.
Cute.
Dream picked it up promptly before entering his freezing apartment to rip it open.
To my favorite scrooge
You don’t seem like one for parties, but I want to invite you anyway
Dinner party, December 24th, 6pm, 3C, be there or be square >:)
Love, George
Love. That’s also cute.
Dream scoffed to himself. He couldn’t believe he was considering going to a Christmas party for some guy. How pathetic.
But… He’d still stop by and make an appearance.
Of course he would.
The 24th came so fast, Dream could barely process anything. Things blurred together— pleasant passing conversations exchanged between the neighbors became more and more common, and George even asked Dream for his number to let him know what to bring for the party.
Of course, Dream was incredibly giddy to tap George’s name into his contacts with a little smile next to it, pinning his name to the top of his chats.
Before Dream knew it, he had gotten a string of texts from the brunet across the hall.
George: Pick up a bottle of wine or something maybe
George: Or maybe
George: You know what, nvm
George: Get whatever you think people would drink
Dream giggled at his screen. He imagined George’s flustered voice trying his best to make his thoughts congele into sentences. It really was cute.
He couldn’t believe he was giggling at his phone.
Dream hated to admit it, but since he and George had met, a certain… brightness had been sprinkled into his life. It seemed so cliché and disgusting, but George made Dream happy.
Even through his cringeworthy Christmas obsession.
After a quick stop to the liquor store, trudging through knee deep snow just to carry his bags inside, Dream got dressed.
George told him to dress nice, but not fancy. And definitely Christmassy. Dream didn’t have anything ‘Christmassy’, nor ‘nice’, but he eventually settled on a pair of dark corduroy pants and a green turtleneck he found lying in the back of his closet. Hopefully that would be good enough…
A couple steps across the cold hall and Dream was at George’s door with a decorative bag in hand, knocking with frozen knuckles.
George pulled the door open quickly, greeting Dream with a smile so wide and bright, it could have lit up the whole room. He waved, and Dream shook himself out of his lovestruck daze to wave back.
“I’m glad you could make it!” George beckoned Dream inside, “Come, sit! We’re about to eat.”
“H-Hey, George.” Dream shuffled in, digging through the bag to produce a couple bottles, “I got, uh, w-well, I didn’t know exactly what to get, so I got a bunch of stuff…”
Dream held out a small bottle of red wine, then a bottle of white, followed by a tall bottle of peppermint vodka wrapped with a cute green bow.
“I-I… picked up a few things.” Dream sighed a bit, chuckling, “Sorry.”
“Dream,” George put his hand on the blond’s shoulder, sending shivers down his spine, “You’re fine.”
Dream laughed nervously, “I just… I don’t go to parties. Or… Christmas parties.”
“You’re fine.” George reiterated.
George’s hand slid down his arm to grab a hold of the taller’s wrist lightly. Dream practically melted at the touch as George led him over through his nicely decorated living room to the rest of the guests.
“This is Dream,” George introduced him, and Dream gave a small wave, “My neighbor.”
A couple of awkward introductions later and the small group was huddled around the even smaller dining room table eating. After the food came desserts, which Dream took the opportunity to shove as many freshly baked cookies as he could onto his napkin before finding a spot on the couch.
With George squeezed in next to him and everyone else fighting for room on the cushiony sofa, Dream was content. Though he didn’t know these people well, he felt so… comfortable.
So comfortable…
Warmth.
Dream’s sleep crusted eyes cracked open just a sliver, shining lights forcing them shut almost immediately. A second of recovery was needed before he even thought about attempting to reopen his tired eyes.
When he did, though, he was surprised. The bright interior was much more dim than it had been when he fell asleep, and it was so… cozy.
The strong smelling pine in the corner was lit with white lights so warm they could have been yellow, tiny specks of light dancing around the golden ornaments around them. Even the star was lit up, bright and matching perfectly with the rest of the homey decor.
There was a heat emanating from in front of the couch, one that Dream never had in his own apartment, and he glanced down towards the source. It was… a fireplace? No, a fake fireplace. Flames animated on the screen inside and were so realistic, they could have fooled anyone. Heat came from a little vent on the top, warming Dream and keeping him nice and toasty— so toasty, in fact, he was afraid he’d drift right back to sleep.
Low, jazzy covers of christmas songs filled the air from the kitchen and quieted Dream’s head just a bit. It was buzzing an awful lot since everyone had been talking awfully loud during that last game of cards…
Nobody’s here anymore.
A tingle ran down his spine.
We’re alone.
He’s alone with George. Alone with George’s cute christmas sweater and his little antler headband with bells that jingled when he shook his head too hard. George, with his cheeks red from the heat in the apartment. George, who smelled like cinnamon and vanilla and honey and love.
Fuck, is it getting hot in here? Maybe he should turn down the heater…
As Dream began to stand, decorative blanket dropping around his feet, he heard a familiar little noise behind him.
“Oh!” George spoke softly, the bells on his outfit jingling, “You’re up!”
Fuck.
“I’m up.” Dream held his breath, “Sorry I fell asleep in the first place… What time is it?”
“It’s… Eleven. Almost midnight.”
“Shit. I’m sorry.”
“Don't apologize, idiot.” George chuckled, walking closer.
Dream took the chance to turn and meet George’s gaze. He had changed— the sweater he originally donned was no longer on, and neither were the obnoxious green pants. Instead, he had a thin white tee hanging off his shoulders, as well as some plaid pajama bottoms that were way too long for his legs.
Despite the outfit change, the antlers remained, and he still looked as adorable as ever.
“I’ve probably overstayed my welcome.” Dream scratched at the back of his neck, hoping the blush on his face was hidden by the warm lights.
“You’re fine, you’re fine.” George waved his hand, “I was just finishing up a couple batches of cookies.”
“More cookies?”
“Yes, more cookies.” George snorted, “For gifts. Idiot.”
Dream shifted on his feet. The scent of warm chocolate wafted from the room just feet away and made Dream’s stomach ache, yearning for those undeniably perfect sweets.
He wanted to ask if George would give him any tomorrow, but he had made it clear he didn’t want any gifts. Bummer.
“I was gonna let you sleep.” George offered softly, glancing down at his socks.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” Dream smiled, laughing, “I’ll just be on my way.”
Before Dream could turn away, though, George’s hand caught his wrist.
“W-wait!”
Soft, delicate fingers gripped at Dream’s arm with an urgency that could have made the blond melt. The fingers tugged at his sleeve softly, making Dream stop in his tracks and glance back up at George.
George seemed surprised with his own reaction, like he had acted without even thinking. His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red, matching with the red band of his antlers. Dream didn’t bother to hold back the little grin that bloomed on his face.
How cute.
“Are you sure you wanna leave?” George asked, suddenly so coy.
Dream’s heart was in his neck. He was afraid if George focused, he’d feel the fast beat through his skin.
I don’t want to go.
“Yeah, I’d better head home.” Dream glanced down to the hand around his arm again. The way the beautiful fingers dusted with pink from all the heat in the room as they clenched just a little tighter made it hard for Dream to focus on his thoughts. “I have… I have to go back. I haven’t fed my cat yet, she’s probably gonna hate me.”
“Oh,” A hint of disappointment was stuck in George’s throat, “You’re right. Go feed her before she finds you and eats you.”
Dream chuckled. He began to relax just a bit, but the fingers remained tight around his arm.
“George?” Dream said his name, soft and smooth like honey on his tongue.
“Dream?”
Dream wondered if his name tasted the same to George.
“I’ve got to go.”
George glanced down to the ever tightening grip he had on the blond’s arm and held his breath. The fingers tightened one last time before leaving hesitantly, letting Dream’s hand fall back to his side.
“Right. Sorry.” George laughed nervously, “I’ll walk you out.”
It was only a couple steps, and Dream could have walked them himself, but George insisted. With a hand on the small of his back, George escorted the taller towards the front door.
“Well, good night, Dream.” George’s hand rested on the knob, ready to turn it, but Dream wasn’t paying attention.
Dream’s gaze was tilted upwards at the ceiling, eyeing the crudely taped string that hung above the door. The bundle of leaves were unmistakable— and Dream felt his heart stop.
Mistletoe.
God, this was so cliché.
“Dream?” George tried to get his attention, but as he trailed his eyes to match Dream’s gaze, he stopped, “Oh.”
With a nervous chuckle, George added, “You don’t have to. It’s just a silly little tradition.”
Dream opened his mouth as if to speak, but he quickly shut it as he looked down. George was right in front of him, chest to chest with barely any space for air. Yet, the brunet was breathing. He breathed soft, little puffs of warmth into the air that made Dream even more flustered.
George finally met Dream’s gaze, and it sent a shock down both of their spines. Breath became heavier, and Dream found himself suffocating in George.
“Dream.” George repeated, but his voice was nearly lost in his neck, “You don’t have to.”
Dream’s tongue flicked out to moisten his lower lip. He watched as George’s eyes were drawn to the motion, locking on his lips with beautiful brown irises. Dream did the same with his own eyes, but not before taking in the beautiful sight of lights reflecting off George's eyes like stars in a midnight sky.
“I don’t have to…” Dream’s words were barely a whisper. A hand made its way to cup the brunet’s cheek, thumb tracing over the smooth skin while the other fingers tangled in the mess of long, dark brown hair.
“You don’t.” George repeated, leaving his lips slightly parted as hands rested on Dream’s chest, feeling the warmth radiating from his core.
“But…” Dream held his breath, “I… I want to.”
George’s eyes flicked up to Dream’s, but Dream barely noticed. He was all too trained on the plush, reddened lips that breathed soft breaths onto Dream’s skin.
“Can I kiss you?”
George only replied with a feverish nod, eyes half lidded and full of light and lust.
Without a second thought, Dream pulled George ever so carefully closer, closing the gap between the two in a soft, warm kiss. George’s lips fit perfectly against Dream’s.
He felt like he was floating.
As soon as the kiss had been initiated, it ended with Dream’s hands falling from George's face as the smaller trailed after him, hoping for their lips to press together once again.
Dream smiled, chuckling softly as he parted from the brunet.
“Good night, George.” Dream said softly.
George whined softly, “Don’t go.”
“I have to.” Dream laughed, pulling George into his arms. He smelled like warmth.
This is what heaven felt like.
“Please?”
“I have to go, George.” Dream hummed into his hair, holding the smaller against his chest.
“Come back tomorrow?” George’s arms snaked around Dream’s waist.
“I’ll think about it.” Dream teased.
“Idiot.”
Dream finally parted from the hug, hating how cold he felt after.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you.”
Dream pulled the door open, icy air from the hall freezing them both. He could see his door from George’s doorway. So close, yet so far. He didn’t want to leave.
“George?” Dream asked softly, getting the brunet’s attention.
“Yes?”
“It’s past midnight.” Dream smiled, “Merry Christmas.”
George’s mouth hung open, but he shut it quickly with a dopey smile.
“Merry Christmas, Dream.”