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In all honesty, neither of them wanted to be there. Quackity had asked Dream to be on his jackbox stream last minute, and, being the people-pleaser he is, Dream agreed, despite the objections of his extremely clingy boyfriend.
George had landed in Florida not even a whole day ago, and after sleeping for the first 13 hours of his visit, he was ready to spend time with Dream. He was ready to hug him, to hold his hand, to cuddle with him whilst they watched trashy movies together and kiss him in the mornings when they woke up in each other’s arms. Seeing as, you know, those were actually things that they could do now.
More than anything else in the world, George wanted to simply curl up in Dream’s lap, tangle his fingers in blonde curls and plant kisses all over Dream’s unfairly gorgeous face. After spending nearly an entire year separated from his long-distance boyfriend by an entire ocean , he was more than ready to devote every second making up for lost time — which is what they did, at first.
Dream had woken him up with a gentle hand combing through his hair, a kiss planted on his forehead, and a whispered ‘ I love you ’. It was safe to say that had been one of the best, if not the best, morning of his life. Admittedly it had been more like late afternoon, but something as insignificant as the time was easily forgotten when Dream ensnared George in his arms and held him tight against his chest. The lazy kisses that they shared were nothing short of euphoric.
But the domesticity was short-lived, cut short by the obnoxious noise of George’s ringtone, and a call double checking that they were going to be on Quackity’s stream later (that they had both completely forgotten about). It took a while to force themselves apart, out of bed and into the two chairs at Dream’s desk. They were sitting side by side, but that small space between their shoulders felt immeasurable. In any other situation, he would have thought himself clingy or desperate, but can you really blame him? He met Dream in person less than 24 hours ago, is he really in the wrong for wanting to spend just a few moments longer in his embrace?
Currently, all of Dream’s attention was directed to their other friends and dumb discord call they were both in, and the round of quiplash they were currently joining. Usually, George would be joining Karl in their repeated attempts to leak the code without anyone else noticing, yet tonight he found no interest in doing anything other than sneaking frequent glances at Dream. Dream pretended not to notice when he caught George staring, but if the faint blush across his cheeks was anything to go by, George needed no verbal confirmation to know that he’d been found out.
Though the worst part wasn’t any of the pitiful longing, it was that this whole situation was entirely his own fault: he was the one that forced them to leave their bed to join the stupid stream in the first place, a decision that he now bitterly regretted. Maybe it was selfish, but he definitely would have preferred to be alone with Dream over where he was now - Quackity’s jackbox lobbies were fun, yes, but they weren’t particularly enjoyable when you were feeling heavily jetlagged as well as severely touch-starved.
To be fair, he wasn’t even saying much. Compared to the other five people in the call, he was practically silent. Surprisingly enough, no one was questioning his apparent absence — not that he was complaining. Would they even notice if he just put his head down on the desk and-
“George?” Dream said gently, pushing his headphones down so they rested around his neck, tilting his head slightly and fixing George with a concerned gaze. “You okay?”
George hummed in assent, turning his head from where it lay on the desk to look up at his boyfriend. Even from this angle, even after rolling out of bed barely ten minutes previously, he still thought that Dream looked beautiful.
“Is there anything that’ll make you feel better?” Dream asked, glancing to the monitor where their friends were still laughing together in the voice channel, “I’ve muted, don’t worry.”
“Kisses,” George mumbled.
“Sorry, sweetheart, what was that?” Dream smiled, and although he rolled his eyes first, George couldn’t help but smile back.
“Kisses,” he repeated, despite knowing that Dream had definitely heard him the first time.
Dream giggled quietly, before leaning down to leave a fleeting kiss on the tip of George’s nose. “Happy now?”
“Dream ,” George whined in protest, “I meant a real one.”
“Oh, was that not real enough for you, George?” He teased, leaning down once more, this time brushing his lips over George’s eyelid. George only glared at him, pushing his lips out in a pout as the corner twitched upwards, barely suppressing a smile.
“I’ll give you real kisses after the stream, deal?”
George huffed, but made no move to protest further when Dream reached to unmute them. He begrudgingly picked up his phone, staring unseeingly at the prompts on his screen. Dream placed his hand palm up on the desk beside where George’s head was still resting, and George took it in his own, despite the fact that both of them would now have to type one-handed.
Unsurprisingly, it only took one round of quiplash - one in which he didn’t even try with his answers, most of them variations of ‘Dream sucks’ - before George began to grow impatient again.
George reached out for the mute key himself this time, and Dream glanced up from his phone at the movement, affixing George with a questioning gaze. By no means was he becoming impatient with the sleepy man slouched beside him - how could he, when George's ruffled hair and sleepy pouts looked as adorable as they did? No, he was merely amused, curious as to what would be asked of him next, and willing to oblige to every last demand that was made.
Dream meets George's eyes and can't help but feel utterly enamoured, and he thinks that he would do absolutely anything for this boy, his love, if only it meant that they could stay like this forever. Two lovesick idiots trapped in an overwhelmingly domestic bubble of emotional intimacy, making the world wait for them as they laughed and kissed and held hands and kept each other close.
"Dream?" George uttered quietly, speaking a thousand more words through their still-unbroken eye contact.
Dream hummed softly in assent, beginning to move his thumb in slow circles across the back of George's hand.
"I'm hungry."
"Are you asking me to-"
"Yes."
Dream sighed in feigned reluctance, though he was already getting up from his chair, his phone, the game and the stream all forgotten in wake of his needy boyfriend. The needy boyfriend who was, in fact, perfectly capable of walking to the kitchen and getting snacks for himself, but Dream seemed to so easily forget such trivial details when graced with a simple flick of pleading eyes, and that damn smile. He was so gone, so whipped, so infatuated with the man in front of him, and all he had done was silently ask Dream to go and get him some skittles.
He returned, a few minutes later, to George laughing quietly at the quiplash answers already appearing on the screen.
“Did I miss much?” Dream asked, setting a bowl of Doritos and a packet of skittles down on the desk between them.
“Yeah, me,” George replied without much thought, immediately making grabby hands for the snacks despite them being perfectly within his reach. Dream scoffed (lovingly) and passed them to him regardless, a fond smile still present on his lips even when George started to crunch on Doritos obnoxiously loudly.
They returned their attention to their other friends and the call that they had been neglecting, picking up their phones to resume the game. It wasn’t long before they were distracted again.
Dream felt a hand against his shoulder, and instinctively leaned into the contact, only looking round when he heard George giggle.
“What did you just wipe on me?” He looked down at the greasy, slightly orange trail now adorning his hoodie, spanning nearly the whole length of his upper arm.
“Love,” George responded confidently, to a raised eyebrow from Dream, “And Dorito crumbs.”
Dream looked George dead in the eyes, slowly putting his hand into the nearly empty bowl and crushing the remaining Doritos in his palm.
“You’re wasting perfectly good crisps, Dream, what-” George complained, leaning forwards to try and pull his hand out of the bowl only to fall back with a shriek when Dream pounced. “Dream! Stop! I’m sorry, okay- I’m sorry I didn’t mean it-”
Dream wiped his hand victoriously over George’s face — though taking care not to get it anywhere near his eyes, he wasn’t completely evil — as George made pitiful attempts to escape. Dream had seated himself in George’s lap, trapping him fully to ensure he was able to carry out his revenge plot successfully.
“Get off , oh my god, you’re going to crush me!” George struggled, batting Dream’s hands away to no avail. Dream only pressed closer, wrapping his arms around George’s middle and clinging to him like an overgrown koala. He pressed his face into his boyfriend’s neck, lips brushing against pale skin as he spoke softly.
“Now you know why you shouldn’t mess with me.”
George placed his (clean) hand in Dream’s hair, unable to resist the urge to run his fingers through it. He leant down slightly and placed a kiss to Dream’s forehead, and George felt his smile against his skin.
“I don’t know why you got so mad about your dumb hoodie, I literally wear it more than you do.” George paused for a second, gazing down at the man in his lap with nothing but fond adoration in his eyes, “Are you sniffing me?”
“Of course not,” Dream said, before inhaling as loud as he possibly could.
“I’m giving up on you, we’re done,” George said flatly, reaching around Dream and resting his head on his shoulder to pick up his phone. “I’m booking tickets back to England as we speak.”
Dream lifted his head at last, nudging George until they were face to face, foreheads pressed together, “But George—”
It was at this point that they heard the door creak open behind them, only to shut again almost immediately, accompanied by Sapnap’s footsteps retreating down the hall. A moment later, a faint sound that was strangely like the discord disconnect noise could be heard from Dream’s headphones that still rested around his neck.
“I think our friends might have just kicked us out of the call,” George whispered into the silence, having to try very hard not to laugh.
“I forgot we were on a call,” Dream whispered back, and they both burst out laughing.
Later — after George had received his ‘real kisses’ and Dream had dragged him to the kitchen to make them both ‘real food’ that wasn’t just Doritos — they lay together, limbs entangled, doing nothing more than simply basking in the other’s physical presence.
“I would never actually go back to England, you know,” George murmured, as Dream pressed gentle kisses over each freckle littering the bridge of George’s nose.
“I know,” Dream murmured back, leaving a final kiss against George’s lips.
George’s arms tightened around Dream’s waist, pulling them closer together before resting his head on Dream’s chest.
“You’re so much comfier than my pillow,” George mumbled, eyes already slipping shut.
“You should sleep here with me every night then.”
Before, when all they had of each other was a voice, they had treasured their time spent together, trying to stay awake as long as possible to talk to each other for a few extra minutes. Now, they slipped easily into unconsciousness, knowing that the other would still be in their arms when they awoke, and they would be able to do the same the next night, and the night after that.
This was real, and they were forever.