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“You have to wear shoes when we go out, baby.” Dream hits the blinker and makes a swift left turn into the Whole Foods parking lot. George got in the car earlier with just fuzzy socks on his feet, and — as cute as it looks — it is not suitable footwear for a busy store.
“Don’ want to,” he whines for the fifth time, pulling his legs up and hiding his face in his knees.
The blond is slightly distracted as he drives around in search of a good spot. “Why not?” He questions once again, passing a full row of parked cars. “We always wear our shoes outsi—perfect,” a space comes into view just around the corner. Dream accelerates lightly, successfully reaching it before one of the many other circling cars gets a chance to.
As soon as the car is safely put in park, he turns to the stubborn boy in the passenger seat. “Is it because the laces are difficult?” He inquires gently, right hand reaching out to pet George’s cheek.
George cannot help but lean into the touch and nod his head; the laces are way too complicated to do on his own.
“Oh, honey.” Dream places a thumb under the boy’s chin to encourage him to look up. “I can tie them for you,” he reassures. George meets his gaze shyly, eyes dancing across the blond’s face in search of any ounce of irritation at his inability to do something as simple as put on his shoes. Instead, he is met with Dreams’s forever soft, patient features, without a trace of ill will.
“M’kay,” he agrees quietly. Only now does Dream notice that the string of George’s hoodie has found its way into his mouth, rolling delicately between his teeth in a soothing motion. Wordlessly, he fishes out a pacifier from one of the car cup holders and nudges the rubber tip against the boy’s lips. George lets the fabric string fall from his mouth as the colorful plastic is slipped easily into his mouth instead.
Though, the yellow pacifier falls from George’s lips as soon as Dream puts it there, much to the blond’s confusion. “You don’t want it?” He asks. The brunet eyes all the people walking past their car toward the massive store and shakes his head profusely.
“People,” he mumbles, fiddling with the hems of his hoodie.
Dream understands his reluctance to have it in his mouth in such a busy place, but he also knows how George can get when he is feeling so little and has nothing to suck on to distract him. A tantrum is the last thing either of them needs in the middle of an upmarket grocery store.
“Alright, how about...“ he reaches over the brunet into the glove department, pulling out a nearly empty pack of blue jolly ranchers, “you can suck on one of these instead?” Dream holds a candy out to George enticingly. “You want one, baby?
It barely takes a second for the boy to grab the sweet and pop it on his tongue, making Dream chuckle at his eagerness.
“Alright, let’s go.” He hops out of the driver’s side and walks around to the passenger door, opening it for the other. George swings his socked feet out of the door immediately, bumping his heels against the side of the car as he patiently waits for his laces to be tied.
Dream reaches below George’s seat and grabs his Air Forces before crouching down in front of the boy’s swinging feet to put them on him. “One shoe...” he ties a double knot to ensure that it will stay on, “and two. And now we need our masks, right?”
George nods along to the rhythm of his shoes hitting the car’s side, much to Dream’s amusement (despite it being his car). He pulls himself up and goes to stand between the brunet’s legs. “Alright,” he pulls a black mask out of his coat pocket, “look up at me baby.”
Brown eyes dart upward and George tilts his head back with a curious smile. Dream smiles right back as he tucks the elastic ends behind his ears with gentle hands, pulling the mask out to fit comfortably before finally securing it on the bridge of the boy’s freckled nose. “There we go,” he coos, placing a big kiss on George’s forehead before helping him up to stand.
“We’ll be in and out of there in no time, okay? And you can hold my hand the whole time.” Dream readjusts the shorter’s mask a little and brushes a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. “Maybe,” he drags the word out, “you can even go pick out a little snack.”
George snaps his head up at that, letting out a delighted gasp. He grabs ahold of Dream’s hand and begins pulling him impatiently toward the glass doors. “Let's go!” He exclaims happily.
Dream smiles and happily allows himself to be pulled along.
