Work Text:
Hiddled: the loneliness and isolation felt when you’re unable to express an emotion, feeling, or secret to others
A new scientific study shows that nine out of ten scientists agree: Dream is a jealous bitch! This study comes as no surprise to anyone, especially not said blond who was sitting on the couch with arms crossed and eyes narrowed.
Should he give context to his thoughts? Whatever, a break in the fourth wall does nothing to decrease the simmering viridian pooling in his throat. Somehow, someway, George's visa was pushed through at the last minute. Maybe one of the immigration officers decided to be extra festive that day and wanted to give them an early Christmas present.
Well, maybe “early” was a stretch. The earliest George was able to get onto a flight was the evening of December 24th. Which also happened to be this evening. That left little time to prepare the house, but plenty for Dream to have a mini gay panic attack.
The house was a mess- his mom had gone to visit his older sister at college; therefore, if you showed a photo of the aftermath of a hurricane and the Dream Team house, chances are you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.
Now, it was nothing two adult men couldn’t handle, especially in preparation for just one person; however, whatever deities were looking over them decided to make things a little more difficult. As soon as Quackity, Karl, and Bad had heard that George was coming, they had booked their flights. All of the crewboys and Bad would be staying at their house.
Begin the time-lapse of Dream and Sapnap (mostly Dream) cleaning up the house, preparing the guest rooms, and putting up last-minute Christmas decorations. Sapnap’s leisurely pace obviously was not infused with gay panic, in sharp contrast to Dream, whose arms felt like they were going to divorce from his body from his frantic efforts
He’s going to fast-forward a bit to help you out, Dream doesn’t think you should be subject to having to watch him sweat all the liquid out of his body. As the rest of the boys were in the United States already, their flights were quick to land, their Ubers delivering them right to the doorstep in no time.
Sapnap had left to pick up George a little before everyone got to the house. As each arrived, hugs and quick quips were exchanged. They all were present when Sapnap walked into the house with a messy-haired brunet, airplane pillow still around his neck.
Only George could still look like a painting after a transatlantic flight. The speed at which the two ran at each other could only rival that of sound. Fingers curled into soft hoodies and even softer hair; neither seemed to care as the others groaned and complained. Dream could only focus on him.
Eventually, to his dismay, Dream had to detangle from George. His eyes still lingered on his boy as he excitedly greeted the others, everyone getting used to being in the same continent, let alone the same room. However, this is not our main focus (nor is it Dream’s, for that matter).
Let’s come back to the present hour, where Dream was still on the couch, long limbs taking up its entirety out of spite. Jade followed the movements of Sapnap, Karl, and Quackity as they held mistletoe above George’s head, grabbing his shoulders so they could pull him in and make kissy sounds close to his face. George, obviously, screeched as loud as he could- most likely an evolutionary defense mechanism- and ran around downstairs as the boys chased him, all laughing hysterically.
Did Dream know that they meant it platonically, simply a way to playfully embarrass George? Yes. Did that help the resentment from taking root in his stomach, churning it till he felt like he was going to gag? He’ll let you guess that answer.
He knows that his friends mean no harm or anything involving actual feelings…he does, he swears. Yet, as he looks down at his hands which lay on his lap, prominent crescent-shaped indents from his fingernails digging into his palm, he doesn’t know what to do.
He couldn’t run around and playfully act like the rest of his friends. Dream would probably do something idiotic like freeze if his face got a millimeter too close to a pretty face or long limbs would crash into the boy, putting them in a situation Wattpad would love. He doesn’t think he would be able to play that off smoothly.
Unfortunately, the ugly green monster took no prisoners despite his fierce determination to escape. So, he was forced to sit there and watch his best friends try to kiss a lovely brunet who had traveled 4,336 miles and waited far too many years to be able to stand in this house.
“I think you could be…a little less obvious, Dream.” Dream whipped his head to the side of the couch where Bad now sat.
Dream put a hand over his heart as the jumpscare’s effect waned. “Bad, what the fuck? How long have you been sitting there?”
“I’ll give you a language pass for that one,” Bad said, head tilted back as he laughed. “I’ve been here long enough to know you’re more in your head than you are here.”
Both men watched as their friends ran past them again, George yelling curses at Quackity as he professed his undying love for George in Spanish. Sapnap and Karl weren’t far but had started to lag behind because of how hard they were laughing. All four disappeared around the wall, presumably to have a stand-off around the kitchen table.
Bad looked back up at Dream, glasses reflecting the glow from the lamp beside them. “I can guess why you don’t want to join them, but by sitting here stewing in your feelings, you’re just going to be more miserable. This is our first Christmas together, take advantage of that.”
The blond ran his fingers through his hair before dragging them down his face in defeat. Dropping his head onto the couch’s armrest, he couldn’t help but speak in a small voice, “Bad…they’re all obviously having fun, if I join, I’m going to make it awkward or I’m going to do something dumb like…” He trailed off, his mind stumbling in an effort to explain his feelings. Unable to find the words to express his qualms, he continued with a huff, “I don’t want to ruin Christmas Eve; I want George to enjoy himself without having to worry about me.” His fingers anxiously fiddled with the side of the cushions.
Thoughtfully, the brunet nodded, turning his head to face the Christmas tree that stood in the opposite corner of the room, the shine of glittering lights and colorful ornaments reflected in his roaming gaze. “Hey, do you remember that one stream you did?”
Dream’s face immediately set into a deadpan, “Bad, you’re going to have to be a little more specific than that. I’ve streamed a lot of times.” Bad snickered and he pretended to cough into his elbow to cover it up.
In retaliation, Dream smacked Bad upside the head, causing Bad to gasp dramatically. “I was only telling the truth! Why did you hit me?!”
The blond pretended to contemplate the answer and smiled down at Bad, “It’s because you’re a muffin-head.” They both chuckled, a comfortable silence rolling over them.
That is until they heard another screech come from the kitchen. A boisterous laugh escaped Dream, causing him to curl into himself as he held his stomach. They were seriously still bugging George? Idiots, he thought, shaking his head fondly.
“So…going back to my question, do you remember that one stream you did? Where you talked about soulmates?”
“Yeah?”
Bad shifted his feet. “How do you feel about George being your soulmate?”
Dream’s eyes widened and a flush crept up his neck. “I-I…I mean, I think I would consider all my close friends as my soulmates, not-uh, not just George.”
The older shot him a deadpanned look before turning back to the Christmas tree. “We both know what I meant. If I had the ability to see the connection between souls, I think that the one intertwining you two would burn the brightest. Dream, this type of love is rare; this is the type of love authors ache to narrate.”
As Bad talked, Dream sat up and the flush crawled its way up to make its home in his cheeks. Thank goodness the boys had decided to keep the overhead lights off, opting instead for the cozy glow of the Christmas lights. Still, to hide his face, Dream pulled the hood of his hoodie over his face, pulling on the strings till only a shred of his face was visible. “Bad! You-You’re making this seem like life or death.”
He couldn’t see it, but he felt Bad turn to look at him. “Hm, maybe, but it is your life, and I consider that pretty important.” The brunet rose to sit beside the flustered blond, lifting the hood away from Dream’s face. “You know I love to mess with you both, but there was always a shred of truth behind each joke. You guys have something that romantics dream of.” He put a hand on Dream’s shoulder, “We both know that George won’t make the first move, so you’re going to have to do it.”
“What if I mess up what we have? He just got here and…I love him, I can deal with just having him platonically. That’s enough for me.” Bad stared at him for a second, turned to grab the pillow next to him, fluffed it, and then immediately whacked Dream in the face.
Spluttering, he pushed the cackling Bad off the couch onto the floor. He could distantly hear Sapnap ask if Dream and Bad were alright because of the noise they were making. He rolled his eyes and held a hand out for the older to grab, pulling him back up onto the couch.
As the boys calmed down, easing back onto the couch, the brunet reached into his pocket before grabbing Dream’s hand, placing something soft onto it.
Lying on his hand was mistletoe, a small red bow wrapped around the stems. The mistletoe had obviously been slightly squished in Bad’s pocket, leaves flattened and now imperfect. Even though the plant looked like it was going through a bad hair day, a smile crept onto his face as he understood what Bad implied. “Bad, are you sure? Just…just give me one more reassurance, please.”
The older turned towards him, bringing his legs into a criss-cross on the couch. With a small smile lifting the corner of his lips, he took Dream’s hand that held the mistletoe and cradled it in his palms. “Dream, you’re an absolute muffin-head if you don’t see the way George can’t take his eyes off you, and he’s only been here for a short time. What you guys have is special, the only things holding you back from happiness are yourselves. Go for it,” Bad grasped Dream’s hand tighter, “take the world in your hands.”
You wouldn’t be mistaken if you saw the way Dream’s lips quivered, glossy eyes reflecting the Christmas lights. He both knew and didn’t know why his eyes watered at Bad’s words. The brunet let go of his hand, pulling Dream into a side hug, “You’ve already been so resolute in building your career, bring some of that strength here too.” He pulled away enough for the two to be eye-to-eye, “It is your choice, but I want you to know I’ll be proud of you no matter what you decide.”
Letting out a wet chuckle, the younger pulled Bad back into the hug, arms wrapped tight. “I know we joke around with you Bad, but you have always been there for me. You give the advice I need, not what I want to hear…and for that, I can’t thank you enough.”
“Remember what you said a long time ago? You bring your friends with you, and I’m so grateful to be here on this journey with you and our closest friends.”
Distant stomps could be heard from upstairs as they talked, the other boys obviously still goofing around. “I’m going to go get some water or something, just so I can prepare what I’m gonna say to him.” With a final squeeze, Dream let go of Bad. “Thank you.”
With an exaggerated salute, Bad nodded. “You got this soldier.”
Boisterous laughs escaped the two while Dream stood up, gently placing the tattered sprig of mistletoe into his pocket. With one last smile to Bad, he walked to the kitchen. Biting cold seeped through his socks from the tile underfoot. Florida really pulled out all the stops to make it as cold as a Florida Christmas could be.
Gliding his hand along the kitchen table, he walked to get a cup from his cabinet. Mid-reach he froze as he heard someone sprinting down the stairs, and right as he turned to see who it was, they ran straight into him.
The force almost knocked the breath from his body. Before he could even think to get his bearings, hands twirled him around until he was the one facing the kitchen entrance.
“Dream! They’re all freaking idiots! Shield me!” With hands on Dream’s shoulders, George hid behind the taller, peering around him to see if the other boys had come down yet.
“I-I…what? George, I’m not shielding you, you literally just ran into me!”
Peeking around his side, George looked up at Dream. “It’s my first day in Florida and I’m already being bullied, it’s your fault!”
A snort escaped Dream at the absurd accusation, but he held his protective stance in front of George anyway. “Oh, come on now. How is it my fault? Plus, look,” he pointed to the stairs just visible through the kitchen entrance, “no one is even coming after you.”
The blonde was very aware of how close the brunet was to his body, most notably how close his face was to his own. Incapable of looking at him directly, he saw George roll his eyes from his peripheral vision. “They’re hiding, I know it. As soon as I go back they’re going to ambush me. It’s three against one, Dream! Just…let me hide here.”
“You know, I was about to get some water in my own house before I was the one ambushed.”
The older huffed, moving back slightly. “Don’t care, you’re dogwater, plus ratio.”
“You can’t ratio someone in real life, idiot.”
“No, plus ratio. Look, I just did it! Wow, how the turns tabled.”
“It’s how the tables have turned.”
“…No, plus ratio.”
A wild laugh escaped, quickly turning into a wheeze that had no chance of being restrained. Dream clutched his sides, turning around to give George a side-hug. “Yo-you-you’re a,” another wheeze freed itself, “fu-fucking idiot!”
George wasn’t able to hold back the chuckles either, laughing that beautiful, wonderful sound that Dream thinks of when he needs comfort.
The older’s right hand clutched onto the back of Dream’s shirt for stability as they both cracked themselves up at their antics. Over the sound of their glee, George heard the sounds of multiple feet beginning their descent down the stairs.
Giggles now restrained, he ran behind Dream, pressing his face against a lean back. “Shut up, shut up! They’re gonna chase me around with mistletoe again.”
Instantly, he remembered the plant in his pocket. Glancing back up to the stairs where no one had appeared yet, he knew that this was the time. No more chickening out, no more awkward silences after too-real words as they tried to come up with something to break the tension.
Take the world in his hands, right?
With an anxious exhale as the only warning, he twisted to face George…who was two inches from his face. Both of their eyes widened, blushes painting their way across flustered cheeks.
In a small voice, almost a whisper, the brunet asked, “Wha- what…are you doing?”
Now or never. Now or never. Now or never.
With that mantra playing like a broken record, he pulled the plant from his pocket. Slowly, with both eyes following, he lifted it above them, its crimson ribbon dangling just low enough to nearly brush the top of George’s head.
A second passed, maybe another. “I…guess you’re going to have to run from me too, George.”
An additional second passed, deciding to take its sweet time as an abashed smile took over Dream’s lips. “It’s…it’s okay if you don’t want to, I mean. It’s perfectly-“
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
A second.
“Do… you want me to be?”
George just stared at him, the only hint of emotion being the candied flush decorating his cheeks, climbing its way to his ears. Softly, lips barely moving, George repeated his question.
Eyes screwing themselves shut at the thought of rejection, in one breath Dream let out a resounding yes.
Slow, thin fingers connected with his chest. Then, every thought was wiped from his mind, carried on a wave of serotonin as he felt George’s lips bridge the gap.
Oh.
Oh…
Holy shitballs on a dick. George is kissing him. He is kissing George. George’s lips are on his and his lips are on George’s.
If he had to choose between the sun and never kissing this beautiful boy again, he thinks that he could live without light. Fuck it, take all the other stars too. After all, the only light he needs is standing so close, lips soft and hands moving up his shoulders to his neck, electric sparks accompanying. He couldn’t give two shits that it was cliché, he had waited for this. He would have waited even longer.
“Hey, you fucking idiot, get out of your head and stop acting like this is your first kiss! Move, dumbass!” With a small flinch resulting from Sapnap’s words, he hadn’t even realized that he was standing stagnant as George kissed him. His hand holding the mistletoe was like a statue above them, the one by his side just as frozen, nails digging into his thigh.
Pulling away a centimeter to side-eye Sapnap and the other boys who were peeking out from behind the wall, he threw the mistletoe on the counter. Hands surging up, he took hold of George’s jaw, cradling it between his palms.
No longer cemented in his head, his lips quickened against the brunet’s, taking control. Where Dream was burning hot, fire licking up his ribs to encase his heart, George was the soothing cold that wrapped its palms around his heart’s core to calm the flames. Equilibrium wished to be as peaceful and balanced as he felt.
Fuck, how could someone not get drunk off this feeling? How could someone ignore a heaven-sent being such as George?
No one could resist the gravity George held. He had pulled, pulled, pulled Dream in, with no escape in sight.
Both his oxygen and anxieties left him. He cursed whatever being ordered for the need of lungs to be filled with air as he reluctantly pulled away.
Still a centimeter away, his eyes floated up till they met blown-out pupils amid mocha irises. As they searched the other’s eyes, their mouths quickly quirked, morphing into giddy grins that stretched from ear to ear.
Whoops and hollers broke the air, yells to “get a room!” overtaking the sound of his heart beating. Face nearly red as a tomato, George lifted up his hood and pulled the laces, hiding his face.
So full of joy, Dream couldn’t help but let out his delight, joining the other boys in their loud celebration. He dragged George into his arms, tightly winding them around thin shoulders which were also shaking with low laughter.
Keeping one hand anchored, his other reached up to George’s face, fingers slipping beneath the hood to loosen and toss it back.
Lovely. Gorgeous. Stunning. An adonis stands before me.
Not able to help himself, he began peppering kisses on top of George’s head, fluffy hair tickling his lips as he did.
Giggles escaped the brunet as he tried to pull away, hands braced against the blond’s chest. “Dream! Stop- what are you doing?!”
Halting his actions for only a couple of seconds, he hastily replied, “Making up for lost time,” before switching his assault to George’s face, pressing kisses on every freckle and feature.
Face scrunched up in feigned agitation that only served to make him cuter, George didn’t move, allowing for Dream to win the apparent battle being waged against his freckles.
The excited shouts from the boys had turned into disgusted gags and fake throwing-up as they playfully mocked the two’s actions.
Rolling his eyes, Dream straightened (not in his sexuality), keeping an arm around George’s shoulders. “You guys are just mad you’re single, get absolutely wrecked idiots,” the blond flashed a middle finger for emphasis.
The boys turned to each other, looked back at Dream, then back at each other as smirks formed. Sapnap and Karl began to fake make-out with each other, while Quackity made kissing noises.
“You guys suck.”
“Well, that’s actually your job; a blo-.”
“Nope! No! Cancel! Cease! Stop! Do not finish that sentence!”
Sapnap lifted an eyebrow, “Well, to be fair, you guys started it.”
Bad rounded the corner behind Sapnap, obviously standing back as the boys made their fun. “And…I am finishing it. Everyone stop making out and let’s go watch a movie. It’s freaking Christmas Eve, it’s, like, illegal to not watch one.”
Karl giggled before putting on a disgruntled face, replying with a mockingly drawn out, “Yes, dad.”
A chorus of similarly mocking repetitions left the other boys. Deadpanned, Bad rolled his eyes. “You guys are insufferable. C’mon, I’m putting on The Muppet Christmas Carol.”
As they began to walk back from the kitchen, George tugged on Dream’s sleeve, causing the younger to look at him. The brunet nervously looked down before raising his eyes to meet him again, “You…called the other boys single.”
The blond raised his eyebrow. “Yea? What about it?”
“So…that implies we aren’t single.”
“Yep.”
“Uh, you know you usually have to ask someone to date you.”
Dream jokingly puffed out his chest. “Not me though, I’m built different.”
“You’re built like a sasquatch.”
“You’re built like a Wendy’s.”
“You’re built like the Eiffel Tower.”
“You’re built like my boyfriend.”
“You’re- wait… okay, I have to admit, that was pretty good.”
“I know, I’m just that good.”
“Mhm, sure. Let’s go with that…idiot.”
Dream immediately began wagging his finger at George, “Nuh, uh. That’s my pet name for you, be unique.”
“Okay, let me think, how about the word ‘single?’”
“…You win.”
“That’s what I thought, idiot.”
Fond smiles that could make your teeth ache from sweetness flashed across their lips. The younger’s hand came up to rest along George’s cheek, pulling him closer until their foreheads touched.
Two pairs of lips were about to bridge the distance before a pillow flew right into their faces, making them both flinch away.
The couple looked at Quackity who was now leaning against the wall, tapping his finger on his watch. “As much as I would love to watch you guys be lovey-dovey, I’m pretty sure I have a movie to watch and a toilet to not throw up in.” They could hear Karl giggle from the other room.
After a battle of middle-fingers, all three walked back to the living room. Sapnap was sitting against the front of the couch near the tree, playing with Patches who had decided to grace them with her presence. Bad, Quackity, and Karl took the other couch, Karl throwing his legs over the laps of the other two. As soon as Bad saw Dream and George, he gave Dream a big thumbs-up, smile wide and proud. The blond smiled, genuinely happy. He gave a sneaky thumbs-up in return as they made their way to the couch.
All of them had decided to leave the main couch to the now ‘love-birds,’ not wanting to become infected. Dream saw this as an absolute win- now he could cuddle George as much as he wanted, plus he could stretch out his legs.
Everyone now settled in, Bad turned the movie on. Dream’s arm was snug around George’s waist, fingers toying with the end of the brunet’s shirt. He couldn’t help it, but every so often he would skim the skin underneath, feeling George shiver. He, additionally, couldn’t help the smirk that would arise, knowing that the brunet was as affected by their close proximity as he was.
Because, trust him, Dream’s heart was about to take a hike outside of his chest. Beating hard and fast, he knew that George could probably feel his heart as he laid on his chest.
Fuck, he was so happy. He slowly rested his head on the top of George’s hair, pressing a small kiss onto it as he did. Eyes shutting closed, he breathed in the memory of this moment. This, this right here was what he’s been waiting years for.