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Dream doesn’t know what he expected to happen when George came to Florida, but it wasn’t this. It certainly wasn’t this.
It wasn’t George falling asleep in his arms as their favorite show plays in the background.
He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep for but he knows it’s been a while. All he can focus on are the freckles sprinkled across George’s cheeks like constellations. He spends some time counting them, wondering what it would be like to trace shapes with them using his fingers, he wonders what it would be like to kiss every single one of them.
More importantly, he wonders if George would let him.
It’s weird, seeing him so up close. Everything is so much clearer when it’s not disguised between pixels and discord calls. His lashes seem so much longer, his lips so much softer, he seems so real - and he’s not sure how it is.
How is it possible for someone to look so beautiful? It’s almost as if George was crafted by Greek Gods.
He stirs in his sleep and for a moment Dream feels his heart drop, he doesn’t want this moment to end. But it doesn’t, George only buries his head into Dream’s chest more; his heart skips a beat.
He thinks he could get used to this.
He’s not quite sure how they ended up like this. George laying asleep on top of him, he’s also not sure why it feels so natural. It feels like this is meant to be.
He traces shapes on George’s hand, it feels surreal. George's hand is actually in his. They’re together. In the same room. Cuddling. It’s so domestic. It’s so… comfortable.
The universe might have kept them apart for a long time but this, this makes up for it. George in his arms, his hair between his fingers, this makes up for any time they had to spend thousands of miles apart.
Dream would wait one thousand years for a second like this with George.
He spends a good amount of time memorising his face in person, his jawline, the soft pink of his cheeks, his nose. His face looks so angelic, so perfect. Maybe it passes some lines of ‘totally platonic” to watch in awe as your best friend sleeps, but right now he’s not bothered. Right now all that matters is the person in his arms - all that matters to him is George.
(Not that that’s far off from usual.)
The episode they were watching ends and Dream stretches his arm out to grab the remote, taking special care not to wake the other. He turns off the TV and looks down to the other side of the couch where Patches is curled up on George’s legs.
He smiles.
There was a time where George would constantly worry that she wouldn’t like him, that it would take forever for her to get used to him being around, but he knew that wouldn’t be the case.
This is all to perfect, Dream thinks. He’s dreamt of this for years, them together, laughing, talking, cuddling, just existing with one another. But the real thing, well it beats it by far. This is so much better than he ever could have imagined.
George is in Florida, and it’s not what he expected at all.
It’s better.