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It was his eleventh full day of living within the walls of the Dream Team house, and George was certain that he was already going insane.
Don’t get him wrong, simply being able to exist in the same space as two of his favourite people was absolutely exhilarating, and had already made for some of the best days of his life. Immediately travelling to Twitchcon, visiting Sapnap’s family in Texas, staying over with friends had all meant that he hadn’t actually spent all that much time in his new home. However, now that he was properly settling in, he had quickly noticed two very pressing issues.
Firstly, the wall between his and Sapnap’s room was about as thick as Dream’s ass in that one picture of him modelling the 2020 Christmas merch. It was so thin in fact, that George could make out every single word of whatever anime Sapnap had decided to watch that night, despite him being considerate enough to turn the volume almost all the way down.
George groaned, buried his face in his pillow, then shivered. That was the second problem. Their rooms being side by side meant that they happened to not only share every single sound, but also an AC unit. This wouldn’t have been a problem, if Sapnap was actually a normal human being who preferred normal human temperatures, but that was unfortunately not the case. He had the misfortune of being room-buddies with a motherfucker who preferred to feel like he was sleeping beside the penguins in Antarctica, and George couldn’t deal with it any longer.
He swung his legs out of bed, wrapping one of his blankets around his shoulders as he did so, and it trailed behind him like a cape as he padded up the stairs to Dream’s room.
Dream was fast asleep when George entered his room, starfished across his bed with the blankets in a heap by his feet, wearing nothing but a pair of loose shorts and a half-smile that George subconsciously mirrored as he approached the foot of the bed. It was only when Dream’s eyelashes began to flutter open that George began to doubt whether this was actually as great of an idea as it had originally seemed.
“George?” Dream mumbled, his voice hoarse, vowels slurred.
Hot, George’s brain unhelpfully supplied, eternally thankful that the darkness of the room was able to conceal his blush.
“Hi,” George murmured, “Sorry for waking you up.”
“I don’t mind, seriously." When George scoffed, he added, “It’s like how your calls used to go through my phone's silence, except now you can come and wake me up for real.”
George smiled at this, at the reminder that this was the same man that he had spent thousands of hours on a call with, at how nothing had changed between them despite everything, at the fact that this was still Dream — his best friend, welcoming him with open arms into the comfort of his room, no matter the hour or circumstance. He wasn't quite sure what he'd ever done to deserve this kind of paradise, but by no means was he complaining.
Dream shifted over, making room for George to climb in beside him, and George did so without hesitation. It wasn’t as though it was his first time here — their unwillingness to separate on the very first night had made sure of that — he had no reason to be nervous, never with Dream.
“It’s so much warmer here,” George said, words muffled slightly by the blankets he had buried himself in.
“Yeah?”
George hummed in assent, and Dream only chuckled fondly, sleep-lidded eyes never once leaving George’s face. There were a few moments of comfortable silence, interrupted only by the shuffling sounds of George moving onto his side to be face to face with Dream.
Moments like these still felt mildly surreal, something that was entirely not helped by the tentative hand that Dream placed on his waist. When George gave no objection, the touch looped around his middle, pressing against his lower back and effectively bringing the two of them chest to chest. George wrapped his arms around Dream in return, the shared body heat extremely welcome after the past hour he had just spent alone and shivering.
“Thank you,” George said into Dream’s shoulder, his lips unintentionally ghosting over the bare skin. He willed himself to ignore the way that Dream's breath hitched in response.
“For what?” Dream asked, his amusement audible.
“Preventing my hypothermia.”
“Okay, now you’re exaggerating. But you’re welcome.” His fingers traced soft swirling patterns over the material of George’s shirt as he spoke, “I’ll happily be your personal heater whenever you want, George.”
“So I can come back here tomorrow?” George smiled, trying his best to sound like he was joking. He was joking. Mostly.
“If it’ll help you sleep better, sure. I know you’ve been having trouble lately, it’s the least I can do, since this whole thing is technically my fault anyway.”
“Don’t apologise, idiot.” George had to fight to keep his voice steady, barely resisting the urge to kiss the increasingly tempting skin of Dream’s neck, just centimetres from his lips, “It’s not your fault that I can hear Sapnap’s stupid TV shows at four in the morning.”
“To be fair, it kind of is—”
“Well, you’re just going to have to let me stay here every night then. Compensation, if you will.”
By this point, he was pushing his luck, he knew it, though Dream appeared to be willing to give far more than George had ever wanted to take before.
“Yeah, I guess you'll just have to stay here. It's not like you have any other options." His voice was that of a man that knew precisely what he was doing, smugness seeping through each syllable in a way that made George want to punch him in the mouth. Gently. And maybe with his tongue.
“It’s settled then,” George said, feigning indifference surprisingly easily for someone who’s heartbeat was probably close to breaking the sound barrier.
“You do know that I’m only keeping you around for the cuddles, right?” Dream teased, giving a light squeeze to George’s waist as he did so.
George only laughed in response, though, as he drifted off to sleep some minutes later, engulfed in a kind of warmth that he’d never felt before, he couldn’t help but think that was perfectly okay with him.