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It’s cold out. Not quite snow or frost cold, but still the chill is biting enough that George is complaining about it, and Dream is laughing all bundled up in his nice, warm coat, holding George’s hand in his and feeling the wind chill across their skin where neither of them is smart enough to wear gloves.
“The others had the right idea,” George laments, “Should’ve stayed and watched from the hotel.”
(“No. Fuck no. It’s fucking freezing, I’m not going out there!” Punz’s voice rattles in Dream’s ears, “You two are fucking insane, we’re gonna order pizza.”)
Maybe they were right, because it’s cold as fuck out here, and the street food isn’t quite good or cheap (ha!) enough to offset the chill. Still, he shakes his head,
“But we didn’t, so let’s enjoy ourselves.”
“Are you just immune to cold or something?” George turns to frown up at him. Dream laughs, a little wheezy at the edges, at the bright pink wind flush on his cheeks. Joy bubbles from within, as it does every single time that Dream remembers that this is his life, that George is his soulmate, that he has Sapnap and Karl back at the hotel and they’re all in love and they’re all his. (And Punz is there too, which he does not take for granted, he’s just not dating him so it becomes a different sentence, separated out carefully by boundaries he’s sure are dissolving every time he thinks about Punz’s laugh.)
“I’m fucking freezing,” he admits, “But if we go back now, we have to admit to Punz and Sapnap that they were right.”
George’s face scrunches with disdain. Dream wants to kiss him. And he can, so he does, ducking in to press a brief kiss to his lips that stops being brief when George laughs and kisses him back.
They’re in the middle of a street of bright lights and vendors, the illuminations above them bright and glittering in the night. Over one side, they can see the distant glimmer of the ocean far down the street. The christmas lights aren’t lit yet, but that’s what they’re waiting for as they trawl the market stalls.
“What kind of pizza do you think they ordered?” Dream asks George, keeping his grip on his hand tight, “I’m thinking pepperoni.”
“Meat feast, Punz was ordering.” George shakes his head, “Probably with peppers too. Karl will hate that.”
Dream snorts a laugh, knowing he’s right. It’ll be good to get a few vegetable nutrients into Karl, though, he’s not great at those.
They stop by one of the stalls that has a chocolate fountain, skewer strawberries and marshmallows and giggle as they dip them slowly, carefully. Dream pays, and the two of them twist the skewers to stop the chocolate dripping as it quickly cools and hardens and they make their way down the street.
It is nice, Dream thinks, to love without abandon. George points- waves- up at the lights hung outside the grand theatre, illuminated in warm gold from within, decorating the red paint of the outside in light.
They make their way down toward the beaches. It’s too dark and cold to risk the water, but it’s bustling with life as everyone waits for the fireworks promised alongside the christmas lights this year, scheduled for- Dream checks his phone- eight o’clock, fifteen minutes. He has a text-
Sapnap <3 [19:36]
Howre you guys doing?
Dream <3 [19:47]
cold as balls out here.
Sapnap <3 [19:48]
What balls have you been touching??? sure as hell not mine
Dream <3 [19:48]
bro
He giggles wildly into the night, puffs of warm breath in the air. George grabs for his phone to skim-read the texts, scoffs with a little smile,
Dream <3 [19:48]
probably yours actually, they’re cold and dead, unlike mine, which are hot - G
Sapnap <3 [19:49]
Come back here and say that you coward, I'll show you how hot and fat my balls are
Dream <3 [19:49]
gross <3
George hands Dream his phone back, and Dream proceeds to lose his shit wheezing about it. He tucks it back in his pocket and pulls George into a sort of hug, sort of death squeeze, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.
“You’re such an idiot.”
“I know, I’m a menace.” George slumps against him. Dream kisses him again.
“I love you so much.”
George sighs contentedly. Even after almost three years, he finds it hard to say the words explicitly when they have real, heartfelt emotion behind them. But it’s okay, Dream rarely needs the words to know that he’s loved. George tilts his head back and blinks until Dream ducks down to kiss him properly, on the mouth, and the cold hand that threads into Dream’s hair is a silent I love you enough.
“I changed my mind,” George says into Dream’s shoulder, cuddled against the cold, “I wanna go back to the hotel.”
“They’re gonna crow about being right.”
“I don’t care, actually. I miss them. And I’m cold.”
“Ooh, the ‘miss them’ came first.” Dream teases, wiggling him. George groans.
“Don’t make me take it back.”
“Alright, alright,” he relents, “Let’s go. Pick up a pizza on the way, I don’t think they’ll have saved any for us.”
They could wait another ten minutes for the lights, but honestly… they just don’t care anymore. Neither of them can remember what was so important that they couldn’t be in the hotel with the people they love, and importantly, out of the cold.
They buy a pizza and watch the lights turn on from inside the Dominos, sharing a quick kiss under the glare of ice-white snowflakes above before they head back.
The fireworks are just starting by the time they get in, so they abandon explanation to join Sapnap, Karl, and Punz at the window, all pulled together in wrapped arms and thick sweaters, letting the wind chill from outside get absorbed into the group cuddle despite Punz’s quiet complaints. Also despite Punz’s quiet complaints, he keeps his arm around Dream’s middle until he stops shivering, watching bursts of multicolored lights splay into the sky.
When the fireworks die down, they return to sitting on the edge of the bed and find that despite what they’d expected, they did save some pizza for Dream and George. So they share that, share the pepperoni, share the two little chocolate pizzas that George had insisted on and they laugh through more terrible ball jokes. The TV is on, quiet, playing Age of Ultron, and they are comfortable and warm with the lights of the city reflecting off of the glass of the window, still visible, curtains not pulled.
They drag the single bed over next to the double. The height difference is thankfully minor, less than an inch, so it’s not going to be awful to sleep on.
It’s barely ten in the evening before they’re all ready for bed. Dream catches George in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, and comes up beside him to set a hand on his waist.
George meets his eyes in the mirror. Spits.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Dream replies with a smile, keeps eye contact through the mirror as he kisses the side of George’s head, “Just love you.”
George smiles. There’s almost tears at the edges of his eyes, and he blinks a couple of times. Breaks eye contact to duck and swill water around in his mouth and spit that, too. He straightens, finds Dream’s eyes in the mirror again and lays his hand over Dream’s on his waist.
“I love you too.”
And it’s still difficult to say, but the way Dream’s face lights up in a bright smile is worth every little bit of effort, every hurdle he has to jump to get the words out of his mouth. He turns into Dream’s arms, kisses him back when he’s kissed.
Karl bangs on the door.
“Share him!”
“Okay, nimrod, I’m coming!” George yaps back, and gives Dream a last bright smile before he trails out. Dream takes his turn brushing his teeth, meets his own eyes in the mirror and thinks to himself about just how fucking lucky he is to be here like this.
He loves, and is loves, and he’s happy.
That’s all he’ll ever ask for.