Archive of Our Own

I.

“So?” Sapnap asks, peeking through his bedroom door. “You joining?”

“Yeah, start the stream and I’ll join VC in a minute,” he says, smiling, eyes still glued to his phone.

“Alright,” Sapnap replies, sounding amused. “Tell George I say hi.”

Dream looks up and swivels his chair to face his friend. “Idiot.”

Sapnap smirks and leaves. His phone chimes again as a shiny gray bubble takes over his screen.

George
Bro’s ignoring me
Do you hate me or something?

Dream smiles at George’s words and turns his head back towards his computer. He types a quick reply and leaves the phone on his desk.

He opens Twitch and clicks on Sapnap’s profile. His ‘starting soon’ screen pops up and he lowers the volume as he opens Discord to join VC on his other monitor. Another text from George comes through his DND.

George
I’ll see what I can do

Dream cracks a smile and a soft pink color tints his cheeks. He shifts in his seat at the thought of George seeing him and making fun of his unwanted blush. He knows he would laugh and ask him what’s wrong with him. He can almost hear it.

“We got a certain someone here,” Sapnap’s voice takes him out of his own head and greets him through his headphones. “Hello?”

“Hello,” he unmutes and starts talking to him and Punz, who also joined, forcing his thoughts to go elsewhere.

His roommate explains the game he’s going to play tonight—something about zombies that Dream doesn’t quite understand—and the first dono alert of the evening pops up while it’s loading.

“Who’s a better hugger, Dream or George?” Sapnap reads and giggles.

Dream frowns and scoffs, because that’s a stupid question. How would he know? He’s never hugged George before. “What?” he asks. It’s only a moment until it dawns on him—the fact that he has never hugged George before. His voice is strained when he rushes to ask, “Oh, you have— have you hugged George?”

“Yeah,” Sapnap replies, carelessly.

Something moves inside of Dream, and the stream falls silent.

Oh.

He can’t help but think of George. Of George hugging him. George’s arms wrapped around his waist, squeezing him tight. George’s hair, tickling his nose. He wonders what it would smell like.

Why would he want to smell George’s hair?

He curses the Department of State for the millionth time today for not giving him answers. At this point, he’s capable of anything. He would talk to the president if that’s what it takes. He would take a job there himself, approve George’s application and quit the next day. He would fucking leave his house for the first time in God knows how long, only to riot outside their offices until they give him what he wants.

The harsh truth is he can’t do any of that. An even harsher truth is that Sapnap has hugged George, and he hasn’t. He hasn’t even shown him his face. He doesn’t know him, and he doesn’t know when he will.

“Dream has to be the obvious answer,” Punz chimes in.

“I don’t know, maybe,” Dream mutters, still thinking. He’s sad, or pissed, or jealous. Or all three. He’d like a hug. A George hug. “I guess, like— George is kind of, like— twiggy.”

What?

“I mean, I wasn’t gonna say it, but— yeah, it’s kind of where I was going with it,” Punz answers, laughing.

“Maybe. Maybe, Punz,” Sapnap says, and just like that, he puts an end to the conversation.

Dream still wonders. George could be small and huggable. He could actually be kind of twiggy, and Dream could feel like a giant teddy bear with his body wrapped in his arms. It could happen. The thought of it makes him smile.

He’s out of it for the next few minutes. Somewhere along the way, Quackity joins VC. Dream lets Sapnap do his thing and throws in a vague comment every once in a while so they know he’s still there, but his mind isn’t.

Not until he hears his voice.

“Hello,” George greets, happily, and the chat goes crazy. It always does.

“Oh, look who’s here,” Sapnap welcomes him to the stream.

They talk about the game and discuss how long it’s been since the last 5/5 stream. Dream still isn’t paying much attention, so he grabs his phone and opens George’s chat again.

Despite being in the stream, George’s answer comes in a few seconds later.

George
I had to defend my honor
Don’t think you can call me twiggy and get away with it
Idiot

Dream smiles widely, and somehow, George feels a little closer to him than before.

II.

Dream presses the phone closer to his ear and covers his mouth with his hand, holding his laugh. “I’m gonna wake up Sapnap!”

“So? He deserves it,” George’s soft voice comes through the speaker.

Dream smiles. George has spent the last hour sending him funny videos of cute animals he’s seen online. He’s having so much fun that it’s like time stands still, despite what the little timer under George’s Discord name says.

Dream clicks on the new link and comes across a kitten playing with a pillow. The little cat is throwing it around, hitting it with its small paws and biting it gently.

“That one reminds me of Patches,” George says.

Dream’s smile broadens. “Aw. You think of Patches.”

“Well, yeah. She’s the only reason I’m coming to America in the first place,” he teases, smiling through the phone.

“What?” Dream asks, in a high pitched voice. “What about me?”

“You’re okay, I guess.”

Dream scoffs. “I— I can’t believe this. You’re— You’re, like, killing DNF. DNF is over.”

A soft giggle sweetens Dream’s ear. “Cry about it”

“I will,” he mutters, words drowned out by a yawn.

“Are you tired?”

“Yeah, kind of,” Dream says, kicking the covers off, turning in the bed. He lets his phone fall on the mattress, by his head. “I wanna keep talking to you, though.”

George breathes his nervousness into his mic. “Okay.”

“What? I’m serious. Unless you want me to leave you alone and disappear because you— hate me or something.”

George laughs. “No, I don’t. I don’t want that.”

“Don’t want what?” Dream prods, a teasing smile takes over his face.

“You’re so annoying.”

“Come on, Georgie, say it. Ask me to stay.” A sound akin to a whine comes from the other side, and Dream knows he’s winning. “You know you want to.” George scoffs, reluctant to say a word. Dream shrugs. “Fine, I’ll go then.”

George groans. “No, don’t.”

Dream bites his lower lip. “Why not?”

“’Cause, I— ugh. I want you to stay.” Dream’s stomach does a backflip in contentment. “There you go. Are you happy now?”

“Yeah,” he grins, and pushes a bit further to mess with him. “I’d be happier if you were here, though.”

They toe the line sometimes. It’s nothing serious, not usually.

George doesn’t reply for a while, and he wonders if he was too honest. If George could hear the secrets lying underneath. “Hey,” Dream calls out. “You still there?”

“Yeah. Yes, sorry. I was just thinking.” His voice is shallow, like he’s not paying attention. He’s still in his own mind.

“‘Bout what?”

“You.” The word slips George’s mouth indelicately, without permission. Dream’s eyebrows shoot up, and his best friend seems to become aware of what he just said. “I mean—”

Dream blushes. “What?”

“No, that— that was weird.”

Dream chuckles nervously, picking at his cuticles. “Why would you say it like that?”

“I don’t know! I—” he groans. Even if Dream cannot see him, he pictures his expression. He knows he’s hiding behind his hands, screwing up his face, most likely blushing. He always does that. Between gritted teeth, “forget it.”

“You’re so dumb,” Dream says, giggling. “I know you think about me, like, all the time, but you didn’t have to say it like that.”

“Shut up!” George complains again, and Dream laughs even harder. “I was not, I— I actually hate you, shut up. I wasn’t.”

“You were, though.”

“I was— I was thinking about us, like—” Dream hears him face-palm. “God, what’s wrong with me?”

Dream’s belly hurts from laughing so hard. He doesn’t even care about Sapnap anymore, he can’t help it. “About us?”

“Yes. No!” George struggling with tiredness and speech has no business being this funny. “Me and you. Jesus, me being there, with you, together,” Dream is crying from laughter. “Not together, I mean— physically—”

“Oh, my God, George!” Dream’s words sound funny mixed with his wheeze, and George can’t help but laugh too at how ridiculous this is. “Physically what?”

“Okay, okay,” he says with a smiley voice and breathes out, pulling himself together. Dream wipes a tear away from his eye. “I was just thinking that— it’d be nice if I was there, now. In your house. Just— I’d like to be closer to you, that’s what I mean.”

Dream’s giggle fades but he's still grinning. George didn’t struggle with that. He means that. “It would be nice, yeah, I'd like that,” Dream agrees easily. “Seeing your face right now would be priceless.”

“Shut up,” George mumbles.

“You could sleep next to me, too,” Dream says, using his Patches voice to make him even more nervous.

“Don’t talk like that.” Dream knows he doesn’t mean that. He’s also using his soft voice.

So he presses a little further. “We could cuddle.”

“Oh, yeah? You’d kiss me goodnight, too?” he asks, teasingly.

“I mean, if that’s what you want.”

A soft chuckle comes through. Dream smiles. “You’re such an idiot.”

“An idiot you’d cuddle with,” he whispers, spinning in his bed again.

“I didn’t agree to that,” soft voice pronouncing even softer words. Dream’s heart melts.

“It’s okay, you will by the time you’re here.”

“I will not.”

A beautiful concept, something he’s dreamed of, pops into his mind. “You’re literally going to come into my room like it’s yours and lay in my bed and fall asleep, George. I can see that happening already.”

He actually can. He can also see himself covering his body with blankets so he’s not cold. He would turn off the lights and lay next to him, only to wake up by his side a few hours later. He would be happy with that.

“That— well, I guess that could happen. But I know you’d go to sleep with Sapnap and leave me alone in the nice room.”

Oh, poor George.

“You’d be disappointed.” Dream smiles and shrugs, even though George can’t see him.

“You’re so obsessed with me.”

Thank God he can’t see him.

What can he say? He is, kind of. For one thing, he can’t stop picturing them together, hugging and sleeping in his bed. He can’t stop smiling at that thought, either. He just can’t stop thinking about his best friend.

His best friend.

It feels both right and wrong at the same time.

“I just want to— sleep with you, what’s wrong with that?” he asks—the suggestive wording is absolutely intentional—pink and heat covering his face and neck and ears and all the way down to his chest.

George scoffs and lets a few seconds go by. His voice gets lower, deeper. “Why would you phrase it like that?”

Dream smirks. “What? I do, I want to sleep,” he purposely takes a pause. “With you. Where’s your mind at?”

“Dream, you— Oh, my God.” Dream wheezes. “You’re an idiot, you’re actually an idiot.”

“Shut up, you’re the idiot,” he answers, putting an arm over his eyes. His head sinks into the pillow, and the phone is so close to his ear it hurts. He needs that. He needs to hear the shift in George’s voice, loud and clear.

“Now I’m definitely not cuddling with you, freak.”

“Oh, so you were going to cuddle with me?”

“No. I wasn’t.”

Dream’s smile widens. George sounds so nervous and sweet and warm. He’s seen this side of him before, a few times. It’s usually nights like these, when tiredness forces out their most honest and pure fantasies, when they crave affection and don’t care about being appropriate or sticking to their strictly platonic relationship.

Like that’s true, anyway.

Dream hums. “Don’t believe you.”

George scoffs. “Just go to sleep already.”

Come sleep with me.

“I thought you didn’t want me to leave.”

“Well, no, but— you’re being an idiot, so go away,” the way George speaks to him is making him sick. His tone doesn’t match his words at all, and Dream is drunk on the affection dripping from them.

“I don’t want to now. I want someone to cuddle with.”

“Go bother Sapnap, then.”

“What? George, no.” He already knows he will regret this. “I want you.”

“Well, we can’t. I’m an ocean away.”

The call falls silent. Dead silent. If he couldn’t hear George’s deep breath, he would think he’s hung up. His eyes burn as he is reminded yet again of that unbearable distance he can’t seem to get rid of, no matter how hard he tries.

It fucking sucks.

“I know,” Dream mutters. “I remember.”

George sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

He leaves his phone on his chest and watches it go up and down as he breathes. He closes his eyes and tries his best to clear his head. He had the habit of turning his brain off in these situations, isolating himself from the rest of the world.

Only George could get him out of it.

“Dream.”

He opens his eyes. “Yeah?”

“I want that, too,” he whispers, voice lower than his own breath. “You. Here.”

Air gets stuck in Dream’s lungs. He lets it slide, for the sake of both of them. “You’ll be here in no time,” he reminds him. He reminds himself. He prays it’s true.

“Yeah, of course. If the visa idiots did their job faster.”

A soft laugh escapes Dream’s mouth. “You’ll be here, George.”

“Yeah.”

A few seconds go by, maybe a minute. Dream yawns, again. He doesn’t want to go, but he’s sleepy, and that’s dangerous. Especially now.

“Alright, uhm— I guess I'm going to bed then,” he announces. “By myself, for now.”

“I could—” he starts, but he interrupts himself before finishing the thought. “Never mind.”

Dream frowns. “What? Tell me.”

“It’s dumb.”

“Don’t care. Say it.”

He takes a deep breath. “I— I guess I could, uhm— stay on the call. If you want.”

“What do you mean?”

“You go to sleep, and I go to sleep, but— we don’t hang up. It’ll be like— kind of, like I’m with you,” he mutters, probably too sleep deprived to listen to his own words. Dream knows there’s no way he’d say something like this with all his five senses up and running, and he wonders what else he chooses to keep for himself when his head is working properly. “I told you it was dumb.”

“It’s not, George. It’s— kinda cute,” his mouth curves into a smile, and his lower lip is caught by his teeth. His heart is beating faster than it should be.

“Now I think you’re dumb.”

Dream giggles. “I can live with that,” he shifts in his mattress, covers himself with the blankets and puts his phone right next to him. “You’re staying then?”

“Yeah. You?”

Dream yawns again. “Mhm.”

“Okay,” the rustle at the other side of the line tells Dream he’s settling into bed, too. This is the sweetest thing George’s ever done. “Good night, Dream.”

He smiles and grabs onto his pillow. “Good night, George.”

He closes his eyes, looking forward to the moment in the future when they don’t have to do this anymore. When George is there himself, instead of breathing through his phone. He knows it will happen—arms wrapped around his waist, chest smashed against his back, face hidden between his neck and shoulder as his warm breath caresses his skin.

He isn’t sure it’s appropriate to think this way about his best friend, but he still smiles at the idea, and falls asleep almost immediately.

That night, he dreams of George.

III.

Dream is happy.

It’s been a good day. He’s been streaming for hours, and he’s won MCC with Karl, Foolish and Tina. He’s done VOD reviews with a few of his friends, but he left the VC a while ago to call George.

Despite losing Dodgebolt, George is also happy, because he popped off and placed really well individually. And also, he’s proud of Dream.

“I’m in a really good mood,” he says, and Dream smiles. “I had so much fun at MCC.”

“I know, it was awesome. I’m happy.”

“Congrats on the win. I’m happy for you.” He takes a pause, and then announces, “I’m checking right now.”

Dream’s smile fades a little and he knits his eyebrows. “Now? Are you sure?”

“Why not?”

“Dunno. What if— what if it’s—” He doesn’t even want to say it. “I don’t know.”

“It won’t be bad news,” he says, in a comforting voice. “Worst case scenario, there’s no update on it.”

“That’s not the worst case scenario.”

“It is,” he giggles. “It can’t get denied.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I just am.”

“I just— It’s been such a good day,” he mutters, playing with his fingers. “This gets scarier every time, what if—”

“Dream. Look at me.” George turns on his camera, so now Dream can see his face. His hair is messy, his cheeks are a soft pink color, and his mouth is curved into a cute little smile. Dream’s lips part. “Are you looking at me?”

What was he saying?

“Why— ugh, George, you—” he groans, and all of his English seems to slip his mind, leaving room for thoughts he shouldn’t be thinking. “Mhm.”

George’s laugh is soft. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m— Well, you— you look good.” George presses his lips to suppress his smile and glances to the side. Dream feels brave enough to add. “Kinda hot, actually.” His best friend shifts in his seat and looks straight into the camera.

Oh, God.

“I don’t.”

“You do, you’re— red looks good on you,” he whispers, referring to both his hoodie and his blush. George bats his eyelashes.

He is being flirty.

“Stop looking at me like that,” his voice is deep and he swallows, looking nervous. This could actually kill Dream dead, and he’d be pleased if it’s the last thing he ever sees.

“You can’t even see me.”

“I know you well enough.”

He’s right. He knows him well enough, and he’s staring at him in a way he never did before. He could become addicted to his nervous laughter and the way he’s looking at him right now. A rebellious thought slides down his tongue and turns into spoken word without him realizing. “You’re beautiful.”

“Oh, my God. Shut up,” he says, unconvincingly. Dream knows him well enough, too. He knows how much he likes admiration. George knows he’s pretty, and he makes good use of it. Especially with Dream. “This is not why I did this.”

“What was it then?” Pride slips into his voice as he notices how flustered George is right now.

“Are you looking at me?”

“Oh, I am looking at you,” he emphasizes to make the double meaning of his answer even more evident.

“You’re annoying.” Dream giggles and George’s smile widens. He looks sideways, to his monitor, and starts typing and clicking things Dream can’t see. “Okay, I’m doing this now.”

All of his confidence vanishes. “George—”

“No, please, listen. I want to check now. I know you’re scared.” His eyes are fixed on the camera, and Dream almost feels like he can see him. “I’m scared, too, but— it’s less scary when I talk to you because I know that, whatever the answer is, you’ll be there for me.”

Dream relaxes and a shy smile grows on his face. “I’ll always be here, George.”

“I know. And that’s why I—” he cuts himself off and takes a deep breath. “I really appreciate that.”

“I love you, too,” he says, and George smiles timidly. “Idiot.”

“That means you’re checking with me?” he asks, in a soft voice.

Dream sighs. He’d do anything for George, especially when he talks and looks like that. George knows he is his weak spot. “Of course I am.”

George takes another deep breath. He looks back at the monitor and a hard white light hits his face. He types his log-in info and gets away from the keyboard as the site loads. He brings his legs up to his chest and rests his chin on his knee.

Dream sees it now, how scared he is. He knits his eyebrows, and moves his chair closer to his desk. Even now, when he looks worried and upset, George is beautiful to Dream’s eyes.

“Oh, my God,” he says after a while, sweater paws rubbing his own feet.

“What? Is it bad news?”

“It’s— it’s updated. It’s there.”

“What!?” he screams, louder than ever, eyes widening and voice cracking. “Well, what does it say?” George doesn’t answer. He’s staring at his screen in disbelief, and his face shows no evidence of the words he reads. “George, is it bad?” He gets up and leans on his desk. “Fuck, George, say something!”

“Dream…”

He closes his eyes to try and calm down. He lowers his voice. “Listen, it’s okay if— it was denied. We— we’ll figure it out, somehow. You can reapply, or— or we can—”

“It’s okay, it— it was accepted.”

Dream grins and pushes himself away from his desk. His ears buzz and his heart races as he pulls his own hair, drowning in happiness. “Are you fucking serious?”

“It’s accepted, Dream,” he mutters, again. His face is glowing, and Dream thinks he’s the prettiest person he’s ever seen. “It is, it’s accepted!” he screams it this time, like he finally believes it.

“Let’s fucking go, George!” he screams back, as happy tears start filling his eyes. “You got it!”

“Dream, what— what the hell? I’m coming to America, I’m— It’s accepted!” he repeats and laughs, covering his face with his hands. Dream knows he’s tearing up, too. “I can’t— I actually can’t believe this.”

Dream’s cheeks hurt from smiling so widely, and he won’t stop for days. He will smile every second of every fucking minute until George gets there, and when that happens he will be the single happiest person that’s stepped foot on the Earth.

His voice cracks. “Believe it, George. It is happening. It’s real, you’ll be here.”

With me.

They’ve made it. They actually have. After months of waiting and wondering, they finally got the answer they so desperately hoped for. George’s visa was approved. George can go to the US, George can see him and Sapnap in person, George can live with them.

In the span of a minute, Dream went from not knowing when he would meet George, to finding out he will soon be sharing a house with him. He will sleep, and eat, and exist under the same roof as him. He will see his face every day in real life. He will listen to his laugh coming directly from his mouth. If he wants to talk to him, he will only have to knock on the door next to his, and George will be there.

He will hug him. That’s the thing he’s looking forward to the most—hugging George. Holding him tight, kissing his cheek and smelling his hair. Touching him, because he is real, because he can. Being as clingy and annoying as possible, until he tells him that he’s tired of him and that he wants to leave, because he knows he won’t. He would never leave him.

George will be close, closer than he’s ever been, and Dream’s heart smiles.

“This is the best day ever,” he breathes out, wiping a few tears away. “I fucking love you, Dream,” he says, looking straight into his camera, straight into him. Red cheeks and wet eyes, hair all messed up and the biggest and warmest smile he’s ever seen him flash. Dream is feeling so many things at the same time that he barely remembers how to breathe.

“I love you so much, George,” he answers, and he means that from the bottom of his heart. His big warm heart, healthier than ever, racing inside him.

And it’s all George’s.

Plus I.

A text from George pops up on Dream's screen.

George
Almost there
Stinknap drives too slow

Dream smiles and feels his heart rate increasing. George will be there any second.

He takes a few deep breaths and walks around his kitchen to calm down. He pours himself a glass of water and drinks it all in one gulp, but his mouth still feels dry. Two or three minutes go by until he hears keys rattling and his front door closing.

Sapnap’s voice comes from the living room. “We’re here!”

His heart starts beating even faster, his hands are cold and sweaty and he can’t feel his legs. He can't remember the last time he was this nervous, if there even is one. In a matter of seconds, he and George are going to meet.

He hears his voice, drowned out by the walls. “Where is he?”

Dream swallows and gathers courage to exit the kitchen. He sees him. He is moving his legs impatiently and has his back turned at him. He meets Sapnap’s gaze as he approaches them silently, and stands right behind George’s back, who doesn’t seem to notice.

“Hey, there,” Sapnap greets, and George instantly turns around.

His face lights up and a wide, warm smile grows on it. His lips part and his eyes scan him shamelessly, as he takes in the fact that he’s seeing his face for the first time. George is amazed, and Dream thinks that a computer screen doesn’t do him any justice. Neither of them can move. This is already so much more than they can take.

Sapnap snorts. “Oh, my God, you pair of idiotic fucks,” he groans and pushes George forward.

He falls directly into Dream’s arms. He unconsciously rests his little hands on his chest, and Dream grabs his forearms to reassure him. A sharp puff escapes his open mouth and all the air leaves his lungs.

He is touching George.

He’s real. This is real.

He finally wraps his arms around George’s waist, pulling him closer. George reacts almost immediately and hugs him by the neck, squeezing him so tight he can barely breathe. Luckily, he doesn’t give a fuck about breathing anymore. He closes his eyes and moves a hand up his back, caressing him dearly.

“‘Bout time,” Sapnap mumbles and leaves the room with a cocky smile. “Come get me when you’re done.”

Dream can feel George’s heartbeat against his chest, going so incredibly fast it resembles the flapping of a hummingbird’s wings. He can’t believe he is the one causing it. He holds him even tighter and starts feeling dizzy. This is, hands down, the single best moment of his life.

George pulls slightly back, and Dream notices he’s crying. His cheeks are red, but his smile is still wide and bright. Dream reaches out to cup his face and wipes a few tears away with his thumb. George’s hands move to his face, too. His fingers run through his fringe, then caress his temples and follow all the way down to his jaw.

“You’re real,” George whispers like he can’t believe it, and Dream’s touch drops down to his neck and collarbones, tracing a path back to his waist. “You’re fucking real, and your face— oh, my God.”

A short laugh escapes Dream’s mouth. “What’s wrong with my face?”

“Fuck, and your voice.” His hands drop down to his chest again. He’s touching him brazenly, like he’s going to crumble between his fingers and turn into dust. Dream smirks and tightens his grip on George’s waist as heat spreads through his gut.

He sees George bite his lower lip before pulling him in again, running fingers through his ribs and abdomen until he reaches his back. Every inch of their bodies is touching, and it feels so much better than he thought it would. Nothing could have ever prepared him for the feeling of George’s body against his.

Dream’s hands leave their previous spot and move up to press the back of George’s neck and carefully stroke his hair—which smells like coconut, by the way. His best friend hides his face in his chest and snuggles against it.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” he whispers, which only makes it worse.

Dream rests his chin on his crown. “I bet you can’t even feel yours,” he answers, squeezing him even tighter. “It buzzes.”

“But it feels calmer.” The words die in the fabric of Dream’s hoodie. “Like, peaceful. Feels good.”

It’s Dream who pulls away this time, looking him deep in the eyes as he cups his jaw. Arms still wrapped around his torso guarantee they’re glued together from the stomach down. Dream notices George’s pupils are shining, speaking volumes without saying a single word. He cracks a smile and kisses his forehead.

He feels like he’s floating, surrounded by nothing but snow white clouds and beatitude and George. Always George. That’s his idea of heaven.

“You’re even prettier in person,” he observes, and George blushes as a beautiful smile takes over his face.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, shy. “And you’re— hot.”

A cute laugh escapes Dream’s mouth as he shakes his head in disbelief. “You’re an idiot.”

He shrugs. “‘M just stating a fact.”

“Oh, yeah?” he says, pressing their chests together once more. George wraps his arms around his neck and his nose brushes Dream’s cheek. “George.”

“Yeah?”

“We don’t want to keep Sapnap waiting, do we?” he mutters in a deep voice, and George pulls away.

“We— what?” he frowns and places his hands on Dream’s shoulders. “You’re— I actually hate you.”

He giggles and caresses his face. “You don’t.”

“I do. I actually hate you,” he whispers, in a tone that insinuates the exact opposite. Dream’s smile broadens as he presses a long kiss to George’s cheek.

“It’s okay. We have plenty of time,” he runs his hands down George’s arms until he reaches his fingers, and tangles them with his own. “All the time in the world.”

George squints for a second and then sighs, defeated. “I guess— we do.”

Dream smiles. A deep feeling of warmth and security spreads through his body. As of today, George lives with him. They no longer have to worry about distance, time-zones, blackouts or anything else, because they’re finally together.

George smiles back, and Dream loves him. He feels it in his stomach, in his heart, in his trembling hands. It’s the purest sentiment he’s experienced, and it’s real, and it’s strong, and it floods him. He could spend hours trying to understand it, but he knows he never will. He’s just overwhelmed by how much he feels, and he wants to stay there forever.

For the first time, he knows he can.

He can hug, he can touch, he can love. He can breathe.

So he does, and George is there. All for him.