Work Text:
Dream sighed, exhausted to the bone, though to say that was anything special would be a lie.
When you sit in a chair for a consecutive four hours straight to edit a video, exhaustion tends to be a familiar friend that creeps its way into the spine & shoulders, weighing down.
"Done already?“ George mumbled, leaning against the door frame like he had nothing better to do. In his humble defense, he didn't. (If you don't count the three videos sitting in his drive begging to be even so much as trimmed.)
“With the first part? Yeah.“ The blond shrugged, bidding time by idly clicking through edited footage. “I need to lower the exposure in some frames & then it'll be good to post.”
George nodded, having half heartedly listened. “Shouldn't you sleep now?”
Sleep, a goal that seemed wildly out of reach, albeit Dream's bed just outside of the office. Oh how the man longed for sleep, the sweet release of dark circles under his eyes & the slow pressure that built itself on his eyelids, making them feel weighted & bound to close.
“I should just finish this all in one go, if I give up now I'll never return to it.” He excused, mindlessly perfecting a single frame like it mattered.
The brunet in his doorway simply sighed, though one couldn't call it a sigh of defeat.
No, rather it was a sigh that said ‘I'm going to force you to lay your head down on that damned pillow if it's the last thing I do.’
George stepped further into the office, the door frame no longer supporting his weight. Strutting forward towards Dream who seemed just as fazed as Patches did with 'Pspspsps' (Read: Not fazed at all.)
“Dream.” George said, a statement for his full attention, & like the weak man he was, Dream gave his full attention plus some.
“What's up?” He asked, turning his chair so his body could fully face the brunet.
“Go sleep, go lay down. Your bed misses you.” George mused, waving his hand flippantly to the general direction of Dream's bedroom, or rather their bedroom.
Right, because Dream no longer had to huddle into his sorry excuse for a bed only to find himself immensely disappointed by the cold it produced. No, not at all, because he had George now. A heater, a radiator, the sun in blazing, scorching rays of heat.
Dream liked to joke he was cold-blooded, a reptile in disguise because he was always fiercely cold despite the Floridian weather the state produced.
So when George arrived, the epitome of full embodied Heat, he savored.
Well, as much as he could.
It was hard to savor when you weren't sure if you were allowed to, but that was all swiftly (Read: Awfully & slowly) solved in the first two months George arrived in the states.
Now he had a bed to return to, a bed to miss. Why? Simple, because it was no longer cold, no longer made him feel like he was entering a cheap version of Antarctica, because George would be there.
Be there to hold him, or vice versa. & really, truly, how could it ever be cold when you held a burning star in your arms? (You can't.)
“Will you...” Dream trailed off, absentmindedly picking at the skin around his nails.
The brunet shot a soft smile that screamed warmth. “Yes, Dream, I'll be there.” I'll always be there was left unsaid.
The other sighed, hauling himself off his desk chair, reveling in the sound of bones cracking in a satisfying Pop! that left him wondering how long he managed to bear sitting in that chair.
George grimaced at the sound, never one for the snap, crackle or pop of bones.
“Let's get to sleeping then, Georgie.” Dream said, like he had originally been the one to want to sleep from the get-go.
The latter nodded, “Here we come Ms. Patches!” He chimed, assuming the kind cat was waiting for them in the room. (She was, much to their joy)
“I bet she misses me more.” The blond quipped, smirk playful.
George scoffed, hitting Dream's closest limb (I.e His arm) lightly, “As if! She adores me way more.”
Dream drawled a sound of disbelief out of his throat, exhaustion reminding his brain that he was too tired to defend his honor, or how high he ranked on Patches' Love Ranks™.
They breached their bedroom, George immediately claiming the left side of the bed, a dip of his body having already carved into the mattress.
Dream would never tell him he preferred the left side over the right.
They both buried themselves under the plethora of blankets that made the bed seem almost like a nest.
George's plan was to drag Dream into bed & go straight to sleep, no time to binge a TV show or converse about the recent argument George had with Sapnap about the Sonic franchise.
Tonight is another reminder that his plans don't always go accordingly.
“& then Sap said the golden rings you collect are wedding rings, like what?!” George screeched, both of them petting the cat that lies between them.
Dream muffled a laugh through a haze of sleepiness, “Who the hell would Sonic be marrying?”
The brunet rolled his eyes. "I don't know, the player maybe?”
"Wouldn't you be the player?”
George smirked, smug & confident, “I am quite charming, I don't blame him.”
Dream scoffed, “You're weird.” was a half hearted comment as he scratched behind Patches' ears, content with the purrs of their cat & the rambles of Sapnap's idiotic theory about Sonic the Hedgehog.
“& yet you're with me!” George competed, accusations told like he was proud.
It made a star explode in Dream's chest, & he was reminded again that George brought him warmth. "Hey, I never said I wasn't weird too.”
& they continued to bicker, bicker, bicker & bicker.
Because they were Dream & George, two people ready to fall soundlessly asleep in the presence of each other & the cat that accompanied.
They would always continue; Nothing in the world, no force of other worldly beings or the sun exploding could stop them from loving each other & what was between them.
Because they were Dream & George, George & Dream. A pair, a duo, inseparable, glued together at the hip by a force that should only be described as fate, destiny.
They would continue until the day's end, until the moon's last rise & the stars last shine.
But for now? Exhaustion, Dream's brain supplied.
Because they were both exhausted & tired & were in desperate need of sleep & eight full hours of shut eye.
When they will eventually awake, Dream will edit & fix the exposure on the videos, & eventually George will cave & trim a single video in his drive before tossing it into Dream's pile.
Sapnap will taunt George about his newest theory & try to get Dream to agree, who will only shake his head with a fond smile while George fuels his own points with Google images.
& at the end of the night, when the moon rises to say hello, Dream & George will huddle in bed, limbs entangled in a promise of infinity.
Because really, who were Dream & George if not two love sick boys, fawning over one another's every movement?
In the summary of it all?
Dream was George's & George was Dream's, & that was sealed by Fate.