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There was no snow. No extravagant decorations. It was not a picture-perfect, postcard-worthy white Christmas. The array of mismatched ornaments and fairy lights adorning almost every available surface were disorganised and looked far from professional - close to falling down in some places - yet George still smiled whenever he caught sight of them. The decorations might be messy, but it was his best friends that had put them there, and, as sappy as it might sound, that was enough for him.
There was an array of presents scattered around their feet, gifts they’d bought for each other as well as some from other friends and even a few items from the PO Box, ones that Dream had carefully selected and thought would be fun to unwrap together. Patches was already shredding the first few scraps of wrapping paper that Sapnap had carelessly discarded onto the floor, and Dream, ever cautious, was watching her carefully to ensure she didn’t accidentally eat any.
The scene was perfect, from the toes of fluffy socks Sapnap was wearing (Karl had bought them for him, and he had refused to hear any criticism of them, despite how horrendously distasteful they were) to the tips of the reindeer headband that Dream had been forced into earlier. It had taken a while to coax Dream into wearing the antlers in the first place, but after a lot of complaining, pleading and bribery - from both parties - he’d finally kept the headband on long enough for Sapnap to take a satisfactory number of ‘blackmail photos’. George had only laughed, watching his friend pout and whine as his picture was taken, and rolled his eyes when Dream sent a wink in his direction. Idiot.
George only scoffed, picking up his mug with both hands and bringing it to his lips, temporarily obscuring his face in case the beginnings of a blush dared creep across his cheeks. The drink was warm, comforting, and the warmth spread through his body like a disease, circulating through his blood until he was completely consumed, enveloped by the need to sink into this moment like a hot bath, to close his eyes and immerse himself in a feeling he never wanted to forget. And to sleep. He really needed to sleep.
He knew that he would definitely be more comfortable sleeping anywhere else than here, but the empty spot on the sofa next to Dream and even his own bed just seemed so incredibly far away. For now, at least, he’d be fine where he was, but when the morning came around, he was certain that he’d regret not moving whilst he still could. Perhaps, if he hadn’t settled for what was easy, what was secure, then he may have woken with his head resting on his best friend’s chest, an arm wrapped around his shoulder and fingers tangled in his hair, his head rising and falling with each and every one of Dream’s soft breaths.
Sapnap had already fallen asleep, fatigue overpowering his interest in the movie that he had picked out and insisted that they watch. Dream's gaze was still fixated on the screen in front of him, the bright light reflecting in his eyes and flecking his irises with an array of colours that George couldn't quite distinguish.
He couldn’t help but smile, in spite of the gnawing feeling of isolation in his gut, because who would he be but soulless if he was unhappy on Christmas day? Really, he had no reason to feel as empty as he did, not whilst he was wearing one of three matching Christmas jumpers (that Dream had insisted he had to buy for them all) and he had his two best friends right there on the couch in front of him.
But he wasn’t there. He wasn’t there.
He was stuck, 4339 miles away across an entire ocean, watching the two of them together. It wasn’t as though any of them could have done anything to improve the situation, they had done everything they could - aside from, well, the more ‘extreme’ ways in which they could secure him a visa, but George had stated that he wasn’t quite ready to go down the marriage route just yet. At this point though, he was beginning to wonder whether he should’ve accepted that offer when he first received it. Maybe, if he had, he wouldn’t still be stuck here. Cold. Exhausted. Alone.
Dream and Sapnap had tried their best to help him make the most of their unfortunate situation, setting up a laptop in the living room on the opposite couch, sending each other presents and matching Christmas jumpers so they could open them all together on call, but it just wasn’t the same. Maybe he sounded ungrateful, for what was already being done for him, but was it so wrong to want to spend the most important time of the year with the two most important people to him? He’d been waiting years already, everyone got sick of waiting eventually and by now, George thought he had just about reached his breaking point.
He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair and closing his eyes. The noise didn't go unnoticed by Dream, who glanced over at the laptop where George was confined to and offered him a reassuring, albeit sad, smile.
“I’m sorry,” Dream spoke gently, keeping his voice down so as to not wake Sapnap, who was still fast asleep beside him. Though, George didn’t think it was worth the effort: Sapnap was such a deep sleeper that he thought it would take little more than an earthquake to wake him.
“Don’t be, you did everything I could’ve asked for,” George replied, mimicking Dream’s gentle tone, despite him having no reason to stay quiet - he lived alone, after all.
“And somehow it still wasn’t enough.”
“Of course it was-”
“If it was, we wouldn’t be speaking over a fucking discord call right now.”
George didn’t laugh, as he may have a few months ago, when the torment of waiting had not yet surmounted to the almost unbearable ache that it was now. He merely raised an eyebrow, breaking eye contact with his monitor to gaze unseeingly out of his window, his fingers tousling his hair even more as he said impassively, “I suppose you have a point there.”
There was a pause, before Dream said softly, with the slightest of voice cracks, “I just wish you were here.”
“So do I, but it’s out of our control, okay? Don’t beat yourself up over it.”
“I know, I know.”
The call faded into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the movie that neither of them were paying the slightest bit of attention to, still playing quietly in the background. Patches meowed, nudging her head against Dream’s hand, who smiled down at her and began to pet her slowly, whilst George watched them with adoring eyes.
“I really thought you’d have met her in person by now,” Dream murmured.
“You still think she’ll like me?” George whispered back, raising a palm to his eye to wipe away the tears that were slowly pooling in them.
“Obviously,” Dream replied, and George didn’t need to look back up to know that he’d rolled his eyes in fond amusement.
“I guess we’ll just have to see when I get there.”
Dream hummed in agreement, scratching lightly behind Patches’ ears.
If he really wanted to, he could reach out and trace the lines of Dream's face without moving from where he was sitting at his desk. He could drag his finger along his jawline, his nose, over his eyebrows or his lips. They were close enough to touch, but 4000 miles too far away to feel.
"Next year, yeah?"
"Next year," he echoed, and although he sounded slightly uncertain, there was no doubt that it was a promise. A promise that they intended to keep.