Chapter Text
It has been three weeks since Dream was allowed out of prison (with proper supervision, of course), and those three weeks were the best moments of Dream's life after all the shit he went through in that bitch of a prison.
And the only reason he loved all those moments was because of—
"Darling!" the blonde shouted with a toothy grin.
He asked as viridian eyes met honey brown ones, and there he was in all his pretty glory, George.
The brunet, who was peacefully reading a book, was perched upon a bench before Dream called out to him. "Where should I put this wheat?" Dream asked.
The brunet got up and made his way to Dream, just as he was right in front of the blonde, George stood up on his tiptoes and flicked Dream's forehead.
" Hey ! What was that for?" He hissed, glaring at the brunet, "Punishment." George bit back with a smirk. "Also, the wheat goes into the kitchen, idiot."
"Well, okay then." Dream huffs out, grasping the wheat tighter.
The brunet walked back to his bench and sat down, picking up his book.
Dream's pouting stopped as his lips pursed into a soft smile, he stared at George for a little longer until he decided to go back to farming wheat.
◇
Dream stepped into the doorway of their little hobbit house and headed towards the kitchen.
He opened the cupboard and placed the majority of the wheat onto the lowest shelf. He decided to use the rest of it to make bread, so he grabs his apron that hung from the chair and puts it on.
And now, he bakes.
◇
After a little while, Dream heard a soft click from the hallway.
"George?" Dream called out, looking towards the hallway.
The brunet emerged from the hallway, drenched in water. A pout was on George’s face.
"Oh, George ." Dream breathes out.
The blonde quickly washed his hands and dried them off, he was quick to tend to the brunet afterwards.
A comforting silence overtakes them as Dream dries George off with a towel.
"What happened?" The blonde questioned.
"It started raining right after you came inside," he mumbles, "I guess the rain came because the sun left."
Dream took a moment to process the sentence before his cheeks lit up with a soft pink.
"Oh." he managed to say. " Oh ."
George looks up at the blonde with a goofy smile, his damp hair sticking to his forehead.
"Did you get it?" George asked, looking up at Dream, "The stupid little joke, I mean."
The blonde sputters, his cheeks turning more crimson per second, "You're such an idiot, Georgie ," he mocked, "And, I did get your stupid little joke . It was endearing, love." Dream said fondly, placing a kiss onto the tip of George's nose.
The brunet giggled softly, staring at Dream with tired eyes.
Comforting silence overtakes them before George speaks again.
"Can we take a bath together, Dreamie?" He mumbles out, quiet.
Dream took a deep breath, a soft smile graced his face.
"Okay, baby," he spoke as he caressed George's cheekbone softly, "If that's what you want."
◇
Dream stepped into the bathroom as he flicked the light switch and walked over to the bathtub. He pulled the shower curtain and sat on the rim of the tub, twisting the left faucet that had ‘hot’ messily engraved on it.
After a few minutes, the bathtub was close to being full. Dream twisted the faucet, turning off the water flow. He stood up, dusting off his pants, “George! The bath’s ready, come in when you’re ready.” He called out, waiting for a response from the brunet.
Not a second later and Dream hears a muffled ‘Okay,’ come from outside the bathroom.
The blonde began stripping himself of his damp and flour-covered clothes, leaving him in his boxers.
He heard a soft click come from the door just as he was about to take them off.
Both boys made eye contact before George’s eyes flicked elsewhere, “Nice ass, pretty boy.” The brunet admits with a goofy grin on his face.
Dream scoffs at the remark, “Thank you for the compliment,” he replies, “C’mon now, we have a bath waiting for us, don’t we?” Dream retorts as he strips himself of his boxers.
“We do, we do,” the brunet sighs, grabbing the hem of his shirt and pulling it off.
Dream placed one leg into the water, hissing at how hot it was at first touch. It took him a moment to adjust to the temperature before completely going in.
He let out a heavy sigh, relishing in the warmth of the water. The brunet followed in after he stripped himself of his clothes.
It’s quiet but peaceful. Only the sounds of water splashing resonate within the bathroom.
Viridian meets honey brown not too long after. “Hiya, baby.” Dream said, quiet.
A soft smile graces the brunet’s face, “Hello, Dr'mie.” He whispers, reaching for the blonde’s hand.
George quietly interlocks alabaster and tan hands together, a soft giggle escapes him at the touch. He turned back to Dream, “Wash my hair. please?” he asks, staring at the blonde with a smile on his face.
Dream smiles back, “Okay,” he replies, unable to say no to the brunet. He gently pulls George closer to him, kissing the tip of his nose before turning him around.
The blonde grabbed the closest shampoo from the bathtub ledge as George’s back hit his chest lightly. “Tilt your head forward a little, bub,” he told George in which he obeyed.
Dream opened the bottle with a soft click. He lathered his fingers with the shampoo, lavender scent filled the bathroom subtly as Dream began threading his fingers through brown locks.
The brunet hums out, content.
“Is that okay? I’m not hurting you?” Dream asked, worried.
George huffs out, “‘S okay, Dr’mie,” he slurs out, “You’re not h’rting me.” The brunet mumbles, sleep lacing his words.
Dream smiles softly, “Okay, good.” he breathes out.
Not too long after, the blonde finished coating George’s hair with the shampoo. He tapped the shoulder of the sleepy brunet, “Angel, you’re going to have to grab the shower head for me, is that okay?” Dream asked with a quiet tone.
“Hm?” The brunet hums out, still processing the question, “Oh. Ok’y,” he replies, his words slurred.
George leans forward, loosely grabs the showerhead from its stand. “Here,” George mumbles as he hands the showerhead to Dream before leaning back into the blonde’s chest.
Dream laughs at George’s small, stupid yet endearing actions. “Love, you still have to flip the switch to turn on the showerhead,” he chuckled, only to receive a whine in response.
“I know you're sleepy right now, baby, but you have to,” he coos, brushing out soapy strands of George’s hair.
“You’re makin’ me do w’rk. I don’t like th’s.” He mumbles out, earning a small giggle from Dream. George leaned forward once again and flips the switch.
“Good boy,” Dream teased, pulling the brunet closer to him.
“Shush, you dick ,” George mumbles out in an attempt to be threatening, but was quick to relax in Dream’s touch.
Dream could tell that he was sleepy right now, considering how he was acting. The warmth of the water caused George to let himself fall into his current sleepy state.
“Just a little longer, then you can sleep, darling,” he said, washing the shampoo out of George’s hair.
“Ok’y, if you say so,” he hums out.
Silence washes over them and all Dream does is indulge in the comfort of the boy in front of him. Alabaster contrasting with warm lighting, making him soft and so fucking ethereal.
Dream finds himself humming ‘dernière danse’ softly. He never understood why he loved the song, yet he never questioned it. George seems to like it, so Dream hums as he washes the remaining shampoo in George’s hair.
“Dr’mie,” the brunet mumbles, tapping Dream’s knee to gain his attention.
The blonde hums outs, encouraging George to go on as he places a hand onto George’s chest and leaned forward, flicking the switch to the showerhead and puts it back on its stand. He leans back into the position he was in previously.
“You w‘re gone for s’long.” The brunet states, softly tracing shapes and letters on Dream’s thigh.
Dream freezes at the sentence; an ache blooming in his chest.
There's a brief moment of silence before the blonde speaks again.
“I know,” he whispers, leaning his forehead on George’s nape, “I know.”
◇
Not too long afterwards, their bath is finished.
Dream gets out first, George following after, the cool air causing them to shiver.
The blonde grabs a towel and dries George off, wrapping the towel around the brunet’s shoulders afterwards.
Dream grabs another towel and dries himself off, wrapping his towel around his waist. He reaches inside the bathtub and clicks the drain, the water going down slowly.
He turns off the light switch and walks back into his and George’s bedroom.
George is sitting at the edge of their bed, dashed out in boxers and a large t-shirt (supposedly Dream’s). His towel now hangs on his neck.
Dream smiles, placing a kiss on George’s forehead, “I’ll dry your hair just now and then you can sleep,” he says as he walks over to their dresser. He opens the top drawer, grabbing a pair of boxers and a pair of sweatpants.
He slips on the boxers and pulls on the sweatpants afterwards.
Dream walks back to the brunet and grabs the towel that hung from George’s neck.
The blonde begins gently drying George’s damp hair until it’s dry. It’s fluffy, like a ragdoll’s fur coat.
“D’ne?” George slurs out, tilting his head up to look at Dream.
A smile graces the blonde’s face, “Yes, I’m done,” he says, his voice soft, “You can sleep now, angel.”
George hums out, “Ok’y,” he mumbles as he crawls under the warm comforter. He’s quick to settle in, turning his head to face Dream.
He stretches out his arms, making his hands do grabbing motions, “C’mere, cuddles please,” he pleads softly.
Dream softens at the sight. A pretty boy with fluffy brown hair and sleepy honey brown eyes with gold specs in them, hidden beneath a soft, white comforter, asking him for cuddles. Who would say no to that?
Certainly not Dream.
Dream makes his way under the comforter and beside George. The brunet is quick to find himself within Dream’s warm grasp.
“Goodnight, sweet prince,” he whispers, placing a kiss in brown locks. George hums out, a smile on his face as he cuddles closer to the blonde.
Dream giggles quietly, wrapping his arms around George.
◇
It’s been one hour since the two boys tucked themself into bed and Dream hasn’t slept since.
He was fixated on saying that one sentence for a while now—and he can’t stop thinking about it.
He would tell George when he asked, but explaining that he was put into prison for many, many crimes while they were taking a bath didn’t seem proper.
Dream is considering saying the sentence right now, in his and George’s bedroom where the latter is sound asleep.
So, he does.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice cracking, “I’m sorry, baby.”
Tears well up in his eyes, blurring his vision as he traces small circles on George’s forearm. “Okay,” he breathes out.
“You’re okay,” he mumbles, “You’re okay .”
He takes a deep breath after wiping his tears, hugging his boy tighter into his arms.
After a few minutes, Dream dozes off, letting the sounds of crickets and the light rustling of bushes and trees lull him to sleep.