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“Did you see that?” George bounces over to Dream excitedly. He’s a few mixed drinks in, fully able to hold his own still, but he’s in a perfect middle ground of feeling nice and floaty. Comfy. Happy. He’s felt a billion times happier lately, actually. People online say he’s glowing in every picture he takes, and he can’t quite deny it. It’s like he’s finally taken a breath of fresh air, the heavy pressure has finally lifted from his chest. The clouds have parted, letting the American sun shine through his London fog. “Did you see me totally kick Foolish’s ass at pool?”
Dream chuckles, clutching his beer bottle close to his chest. It’s the first drink (and second bottle) he’s had, like, ever and he’s proud to say it only makes him feel a little buzzed. To be abundantly clear, it’s definitely because he’s 6’3, built like a hockey player, and drinks water religiously, but he likes to think that he’s just built different. Mentally built different, or something.
“I did, I did,” Dream smiles, thinking about the multiple artistic photos he took of George while he was playing. He feels warm all over, and he wants to amend his previous statement to blame this on the alcohol and not the man in front of him. “He never stood a chance against you.”
“Hey!” Foolish yells from the otherside of the couch, still back at the pool table. “We were down to, like, literally just the last leg of it! It was just us against the 8-ball! It was literally either of our games, he was just lucky. It’s like beginner's luck, but, like… Finally-In-America Luck.”
George rolls his eyes to turn back to Foolish, banging his cue stick on the ground and leaning against it. Dream thinks he’s trying his best to look cool and intimidating and he’s somehow managing to pull it off. (This could be biased.) “Ohh, just suck it up already. You lost Foolish. I’m just better at handling balls than you.”
Foolish raises his eyebrows, an incredulous smile spreading across his face, eyes squinting in amusement. He lets out a string of giggles before saying, “Oh? Are you the king of ball handling now?”
George smirks, moving the cue stick in a circle while it stays touching the floor. “Wanna find out?”
Dream snorts into his beer bottle from his seat on the couch, making George’s head automatically turn in his direction with a raised eyebrow. Dream chuckles and shakes his head at him, saying nothing. Foolish lets out more flustered giggling and his characteristically high-pitched “ooh” before falling into a fit of laughter. When Foolish doesn’t actually say a rebuttal, George parrots back the “ooh,” but not as loud, and wiggling his fingers around in his direction. Foolish smirks and repeats it even louder and more high pitched. George grins back, both of them knowing fully well now that they were able to easily match each other’s chaotic energies and random noises perfectly, especially more so in person.
Thankfully, before George can retaliate with a louder and more grating sound, Punz comes up from somewhere behind George to wrap an arm around his shoulders and shakes him a bit, making the other look back at him. “Damn, get George just a little intoxicated and he’s finally openly flirting with Foolish.”
“To be fair, most of us do that when we’re sober, so…” Karl butts in, cackling so hard at his own comment that he leans against Foolish.
“Don’t forget that George was the one that had Foolish thirst traps on his for you page before any of us,” Dream chuckles. George heatedly glares at him as the others laugh, remembering when they first found out before most of them were even super close to Foolish and teased George about it ages ago.
“Wow, that’s crazy,” Foolish smirks, eyes squinting in his mirth. “All of you guys want me so bad it makes you look stupid.”
“None of these bitches even come close to me, though, baby!” Quackity shouts from the other end of the L-shaped couch, raising his cup in the air, big smile on his face.
“Oh yeah? Why don’t you tell that to your leaf blower! ” Foolish shouts, teasing him back.
The smile immediately wipes from Quackity’s face, obviously in an exaggerated drop in mood. “How dare you talk about her right now.” He says this in the most serious voice possible and effortlessly makes the whole room break out in laughter.
Before more chaos that involves George can start, he randomly discards the cue stick against the couch and plops himself down on the couch beside Dream to fully face him, bending his left leg onto the couch so that his calf is fully pressed against Dream’s thigh. George rests his elbow on the back of the couch and rests his head against his knuckles. “I still can’t believe I’m watching you drink alcohol right now. This should be, like, illegal.”
Dream smiles, adjusting himself to face George better, a slightly harder task because of his stupid eyepatch he still needs to wear. “I know, I can’t believe it either. It’s like you got here and then started being a bad influence on me, George. First I’m stealing state signs…” Dream hedges, making George roll his eyes, since they both know Dream bought it legally from some random vendor. “Maybe tomorrow I’ll try,” he fakes a gasp and lowers his voice to a whisper, “a weed! ”
George gapes at him, but fails at even attempting to be serious, instead lets out a string of giggles. “Oh god, not the weed!” He rolls his eyes, feeling crazy and fond and unreal. He feels like he’s floating – how could he be sitting next to Dream right now? It feels like a dream, pun intended. But it’s real and he’s talking to the man he’s known through a computer screen for seven years and he’s so pretty and he can’t believe he’s been hiding those doe eyes behind a screen for so long. “And I’m the bad guy for getting the 23 year old man to have a drink. Actually, wait... I wasn’t even one of the ones telling you to try it!”
The blonde huffs out a breathy laugh. “I know, George. I’m just messing with you.”
“Whatever,” George hums, then goes to pick up his drink from where he left it with Dream before going to play pool, then resumes his previous position. “And beer of all things? Gross,” he pretends to gag, sticking his tongue out.
Dream rolls his eyes. “I think it’s probably the best one to start with, right? It’s, like, simple.”
George shakes his head with a grimace. “Should’ve had one of my fruity ones. Can barely taste the alcohol in here.” He emphasizes this by swirling the liquid around inside of his cup and takes a sip. Then he smacks his lips together and makes a satisfied “ah!” sound.
“You’re so stupid,” Dream says fondly. “There’s probably, like, four different alcohols in that – how can you not taste it?”
“Please, Dream, I’m not an animal,” George gives him a pointed look. “There’s only three different alcoholic drinks in here. And I dunno, it’s just, like– like, it’s got juice. It’s fruity. I dunno.”
Dream chuckles at the barely-pieced together explanation. “Sure, George. I think I would die if I tried that for my first drink, like, ever .” A mischievous smirk and glint in Dream’s eye then appears, one that George already knows means trouble. “Plus, I’m fruity enough as it is.”
George scoffs out a laugh. “Yeah, you’re stupid enough as it is, too.” Then he scooches impossible closer to Dream, somehow. Dream looks down to George’s calf pressed even more tightly against his thigh. If he were to move any closer, his leg would be on top of Dream’s. And George’s knee digs into the side of his hip. It would be uncomfortable if Dream wasn’t so infatuated with him.
Dream looks back up at George with a raised eyebrow, who only sits there innocently, sweetly smiling at him. “Maybe Punz was right – you’re real bold tonight.”
The brunette sighs contently, then shrugs, taking another sip. He swallows it and smiles brightly up at the blonde. “I just feel good , Dream. I’m finally in America, I’m surrounded by all my friends, I’m sitting next to you… I’m not usually this fl– bold when I’m drunk.”
“You kissed Karl wh–”
“Oh my god, I get it, Dream! You’re jealous,” George teases with a grin. “We weren’t even drunk. And now you kissed Karl. And, you know, by the First Law of thermodynamics, that means we technically kissed.”
“Is that what the First Law of thermodynamics is?” Dream asks, almost sounding genuinely curious.
“No, silly,” George giggles, swatting gently at his arm. “The First Law states that energy can’t be created or destroyed, and that, like, it can only get transferred from one thing to another. Or it can change its state.”
Dream stares deeply at him, making George begin to squirm lightly, doing some tiny Dream wiggles. “You sound so hot when you talk about physics,” Dream says in the most serious tone he can muster.
George’s eyebrows shoot up, heat already rising on the back of his neck and ears. His eyes close momentarily and he shakes his head in disbelief. A few flustered giggles slip out. He opens his eyes again, looking Dream straight in the eye, a flirty smirk already forming on his lips.
“Jesus Christ, I’ve been here the whole time, assholes,” Quackity grumbles loudly, pocketing his phone and taking his leave as dramatically as possible. He’s going to go shit-talk them to Sapnap, no doubt. Maybe he’ll ask him to slap the shit out of George for the second time tonight, who knows?
A beat passes when their moment is entirely broken, and the two of them burst into laughter, leaning on each other for support. They both feel tears pool in their eyes as they fall into each other in their laughter.
“Why– Why did you bring up physics in the first place?” Dream tries to ask through his laughter.
George wipes at his eyes with the back of his hands, suddenly missing his sweater paws so he wouldn’t have to make his hands damp with tears. “Oh, um, that since, like, I kissed Karl, and then you kissed Karl, it’s basically the same thing as us kissing. The transfer of kissing energy between us and Karl.”
“Well, it’s not…” Dream rolls his eyes.
“I mean, it kind of is,” George teases.
“Me and Karl kissed over my mask, so there was no– no lip touching ,” Dream squints and scrunches up his nose and eyebrows, almost like he’s questioning his own words.
“Lip touching?” George repeats with a scoff. “You sound like you’re in primary school.”
“What - ever ,” Dream laughs, enunciating both syllables of the word. “What I’m saying is– is that there hasn’t been, like, a true and real DNF kiss yet. That’s, like, absurd. That’s ludicrous.”
George smiles cutely and close-lipped, eyes crinkling at the side to show his happiness and amusement. “Talking like Sapnap isn’t getting you any closer to a DNF kiss.”
Dream’s lip twitches as he rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on now.”
George’s smile immediately brightens, showing his teeth and gums, his tongue poking out between his teeth. He leans slightly more into Dream. “That’s more like it.” His attempt at flirty teasing kind of fails, as he mostly just sounds entranced by Dream.
“I really want to kiss you,” Dream breathes, not really meaning to voice the thought out loud, staring at George’s lips. George, who is finally in America and sitting right next to him on a couch in an AirBnB in San Diego with a bunch of their friends drunk and tipsy and partying together on the last day of Twitchcon. Dream starts to feel lightheaded.
A teasing smile toys on George’s lips, amusement sparkling in his eyes. He stares at Dream’s eyes fixated on his lips. He licks his lips and tilts his head, effectively making Dream’s eyes snap back up to his own. The smile turns into a smirk. “You want to change the trajectory of our relationship forever while in a room surrounded by our drunk friends?”
It’s said lightly as a joke. But they both know the connotations of it, the weight that sentence truly holds.
“Is it really changing it by that much, though?” Dream asks, scrunching up the side of his face cutely.
George rolls his eyes. “How about we not traumatize our friends any more than we already have and go back to my room?” He chuckles briefly. “Not yours. I don’t want that bloody pillow anywhere near me again.”
Dream sighs dramatically, as if George has requested the hardest thing from him. “Fine, I guess I’ll wait.”
George pouts back at him in jest, then he pats Dream’s cheek. “Don’t be such a baby, baby.”
“Baby?” Dream looks like he’s just struck gold. Like he traveled all the way out west by horse and carriage for the Gold Rush and found the first vein of gold in the entire town. It would make him basically a king, back in the day. He feels like a king by divine right.
“Mhm,” George hums, pushing himself off of the couch. “But first take a picture of me and Foolish so I can rub it in his face that he lost.”
—
“Are you really not coming on the bus today?” George asks from where he’s laying in his bed watching Dream gather George’s stuff up.
Dream sighs, both exasperated and fond. He looks up from George’s suitcase. “I told you, George, I can’t. I still have a bunch of meetings today and my Mom’s still here another day, but I’ll be joining you guys tomorrow.”
“But why?” George whines, even going as far as to hit the bed with both hands. “We just got to be together and now you’re making me go somewhere without you, like, against my will.”
“Are you saying we’re together?” Dream smirks and crosses his arms over his chest.
George gives him a hard stare. It would be more threatening if he wasn’t cutely tucked up in bed with the blankets all the way up to his chin. “Not anymore. You’re leaving me to die in a bus with Sapnap.”
Dream clicks his tongue and moves to sit on the edge of the bed. He’s so used to George’s dramatics at this point that it barely even phases him anymore. “It’ll barely be 24 hours, don’t worry.” He runs a hand through George’s soft, brown locks, who nestles into his hand. “And you’re not gonna die,” he giggles and rolls his eyes. George pouts and shrugs defensively. “Just, like, make sure Karl is between the two of you. He wouldn’t risk getting Karl in the cross-fire.”
George cackles, moving to sit up in bed next to Dream. “That’s true, oh my god. Karl can be my shield!” he exclaims giddily, clapping his hands. Then he links his hands over Dream’s closest shoulder and rests his cheek on them, gazing up at Dream’s face. “Wow, he’s smart and hot, it’s basically the whole package.”
It’s also a great place to watch the pink spread from his neck up to his cheeks and ears. It’s barely visible to George, but he can see the skin darken slightly and it makes him grin. He places a kiss under Dream’s jaw for good measure, just to see his skin darken more.
“George,” Dream breathes, flustered beyond belief. “You can’t just say that!”
“But it’s true,” George says nonchalantly, then kisses Dream’s cheek before pulling away, letting Dream have his personal space.
“You’re such an idiot,” Dream says, even more flustered. And George thinks he looks beautiful like this – he always does, but especially like this. His smile is wide, showing off his pristine teeth and pink lips and smile lines. His doe eyes sparkle with love and embarrassment and happiness, even if he can only see one for now. His entire face is flushed. George wants to kiss him all over, on every single freckle illuminated on his face. He smiles softly at him, eyes turning into crescent moons as he watches Dream get shy over George showing him affection.
“You get so shy,” George voices his thoughts and grins, poking at Dream’s pink cheek.
“You’re so, like–” Dream rolls his eyes, just so flustered. He grabs George’s finger poking his cheek and intertwines their fingers together instead. “You’re so much more touchy than I expected.”
The brunet shrugs a shoulder. It’s still a weird concept to George, too. It’s just – he didn’t realize just how… touch-starved he was until Quackity, Karl, Sapnap, and Tina came to visit him.
Honestly, he never even considered himself as someone who initiated touch in the first place. He hugged his British friends and family or laid his head on his friends’ shoulders sometimes. He didn’t mind when his friends initiated more contact or hugs if they were more touchy, either. Just, like, normal friend things. And then he went basically two years with barely any human contact. When he went out with his streamer friends, a lot of them were more touchy than he was. It made him flinch a little bit when one of them would suddenly put their arm around him or lay their hand on his shoulder since he wasn’t used to it, but he warmed up to them quickly. In fact, he loved it! He loved getting hugs from his friends and loved letting them get in his personal space, despite him not really initiating it or being indifferent at first.
Yeah, he’s seen what people say on the internet, too. Like, how he hates touch and recoils if anyone were to even breathe in his personal bubble. (He also sees them call him cold and apathetic and all this other shit.) And it’s like? They’ve seen so little of how he actually interacts with people on screen. Like, it’s just his brand and job that’s computers, or 404 Page Not Found. Yeah, haha, funny jokes. He’s not actually a fucking robot like some people seem to like to paint him out to be. Sue him for not wanting to show most of his affection on stream or in front of a camera. He likes keeping most of that to himself and those he shows his affection to. It’s not like he never shows it on stream either; he’s seen the clips of him staring at his friends in awe enough times to know that. Plus, he’s keener to show his affection to people he’s closer to, anyways.
But then Quackity, one of the fastest best friends he’s ever made, came to visit him. And they hugged each other and play-fought each other and George fell asleep on his shoulder on the train ride back from Jack’s place. They kicked each other and threw things at each other and shoved each other around. George quickly learned that Quackity is one to lightly pat his friends’ shoulders, arms, or knees just to connect with them during a conversation.
It was awkward at first, of course. After the initial hug, Quackity was much more willing to initiate touch first, but George warmed up to it quicker than he ever has before. It felt eerily similar to how quick and easy it was for them to become best friends online. Then he realized, oh. He’s been seriously deprived of living with his friends like this and touch comes infinitely easier when it’s his best friends. And when Quackity left, he fell into one of the biggest bouts of depression he’s ever had in his life. Because he realized that all of the people that he really felt comfortable with and close enough to be that intimate with were on a whole other continent. And then his visa got declined and it was just like adding fuel to the depression fire.
When the rest of them came over, it was like being covered in a warm, fuzzy blanket. Sapnap pats him on the back and shoulders a lot, Tina likes to hold onto one of their arms, and Karl is literally on a whole other level of expressing his love and friendship through touch. Quackity gives him the biggest and warmest hug when he sees him again. They all press up against each other on his couch and fall into each other while laughing hysterically and give each other piggy-back rides for no reason. They get into stupid play-fights constantly that have no reason to be real fights at all. It’s amazing. It’s genuinely the happiest he’s been in a very long time, despite the gaping Dream-sized hole missing in all of the photos they took.
He tries not to think too hard about the depression that followed that. His motivation was shot dead, he barely streamed because all people asked about was the damn visa, and all he wanted to do was sleep. He eventually was able to go to Italy with his friends, ghost hunting with Wilbur, and Twitchcon in Amsterdam with his friends. That all cheered him up again, but it was still rough. The waiting game – it was painful.
But he’s here now! George mentally kicks himself for getting so in his head when Dream, his best friend of seven years, his something more of barely 12 hours, is literally sitting right in front of him, giving him the biggest heart eyes he’s ever seen. “Well, I mean– you saw how I was like with everyone before and you’re, like, Dream, so…”
“Good job, George. I am Dream!” he says sarcastically. Before George could retaliate with anything other than an eye roll, Dream continues. “You know, I used to– like, I– when you went to Twitchcon in Amsterdam with Karl and when everyone was visiting you, I used to think, like…”
“Just spit it out, Dream,” George presses him softly, tugging their entwined hands gently so they both lean against the headboard of the bed. Dream, of course, follows him easily and tangles their legs together.
“I used to wonder if we’d ever be touchy like that,” Dream mumbles, clearly embarrassed about his past thinking.
“Are you serious?” George questions incredulously. “You were that jealous of Karl?”
“Ugh,” Dream scoffs, hiding his face in George’s neck.
“Ugh,” George mocks. “You’re so cute.”
“Shut up,” Dream whines.
“Shut up,” George mocks in a much whinier voice, cackling afterwards and using his other hand to run through Dream’s hair soothingly.
“Stop—“
“Stop copying me!”
“—copying everything I say!”
“Yes!” George exclaims with a triumphant laugh, then deflates when he realizes he didn’t predict exactly what Dream was going to say. “Oh wait.”
Dream giggles at his attempt. “How are you so bad at that?”
“How are you so bad at…” George struggles to find a good insult, patting Dream’s head a few times, “living?”
“Wooow, George, great come back,” Dream compliments him placatingly, nuzzling his nose more into George’s neck. “Were you threatening me?”
“Yes,” George says in a serious tone, keeping his hand still. “It was a threat. I want you gone and I hate you.”
“That hurts, George,” Dream exaggeratedly sniffles and cries in a way that is obviously fake. “And I thought you loved me.”
“Love?” George scoffs with a soft smile on his face. He resumes carding his fingers through Dream’s curls. “You must be thinking of someone else.”
“Yeah, I’m so sure,” Dream says sarcastically, giggling as he wraps his other hand around George’s waist. “I can just feel how much you hate me right now.”
“You should,” George agrees with faux seriousness. “I’m burning with rage right now. Absolute hatred. Like, why are you even in here?”
Dream only scoffs, but tightens his hold on George and keeps his face buried in George’s neck. The brunette pulls away slightly just to look down at him, suddenly hit with a wave of affection for the younger man in his arms and holding his hand. “Dream, look at me,” George sighs. He knows he needs to be direct with Dream, he deserves to not get deflected answers or jokes like usual. He can do that for him. They haven’t even technically talked about what this was yet.
When the blonde looks up, George releases his hand and softly holds his face in both of his hands. “I’m only really touchy with people I’m close with, and I don’t really like showing it too much on camera. Sapnap, Quackity, Karl, and Tina are my best friends so I’ve been more willing to initiate it with them than other people I’ve been on camera with, which you even saw when I had my webcam on half the time they were in London. And you, I mean, you’re like… my S-tier best friend, so. I don’t think you ever had anything to worry about.”
“Oh,” Dream mumbles, eyes misty, as if he just came to some realization. Then his voice switches to sounding smug. “I’m S-tier?”
“Obviously, Dream,” George scoffs. He suddenly has the nervous urge to fidget, so he moves one of his hands to the back of Dream’s neck, playing with the curls that rest there.
“Only S-tier?” Dream goads. George rolls his eyes at the smirk on his face.
“Only?” George chuckles incredulously. “How much higher do you need to be, you freak? S-plus-tier? S-plus-plus-tier?”
“What about…” Dream hums suspiciously. “S-O-tier?”
George instantaneously makes a gagging sound, pushing Dream’s face away from him as the other cackles, almost laughing enough to bring back the wheezes he not-so-secretly misses so much. Then George breaks into a fit of giggles that makes him feel lightheaded. He covers his face with both hands in embarrassment. “Dream, what?” he manages to question through his giggles. He can hear Dream giggling and rolling around on the bed next to him, which makes him laugh more. Breathlessly he says, “That was so lame, Dream. That was cheesy. Get better pick-up lines. Like, that was cringe. I’m cringing right now.”
Dream laughs deeply, in a way that he’s barely heard him do with anything else. It’s like deep giggles. Then two big, soft, warm hands wrap easily around his wrists, pulling them away from his face. “It doesn’t look like you’re cringing right now.” And there is Dream’s face, the man himself kneeling right in front of him on the bed, haloed by the hotel room light behind him. It still leaves George breathless. This man really is the sun, like a god with a halo of light. “In fact, I’d go as far as to say you loved it.”
“No, you’re wrong. It was dumb and you’re an idiot,” George stands strong, despite the obvious smile and deep blush on his face and letting the occasional giggle slip.
“No, you love it,” Dream teases, lovesick fondness dripping from his voice.
“You’re so dumb,” George breathes out, hands slipping through Dream’s grip on his wrists to hold onto his hands, sounding equally as lovesick.
“So are you going to answer or…” Dream hedges, tone still incredibly fond, even with a twinge of nervousness in it and eyes looking off to the side.
The anxiety in his tone and inability to maintain eye contact makes George roll his eyes endearingly, but decides he should stop teasing for now; he doesn’t want to make Dream worry too much. Mostly. He thinks it’s pretty obvious where they stand, but he knows Dream likes words. “About you being S-O-tier? Hmm,” George pretends to think while rubbing circles into Dream’s skin with his thumbs. Then he sarcastically wonders out loud, “Is the popular Minecraft Youtuber Dreamnotfound boyfriend material?” His eyes widen, “Wait–”
It’s too late. Dream’s almost-kettling is already filling up the room. Dream drops his head onto George’s shoulder, still holding onto his hands. Light coughs, slight wheezes, loud laughter, and the catching of breath is the only thing he hears as George stews in the embarrassment of his slip-up with his eyes closed and a flustered smile on his face. He can’t even be that mad about it, to be fair. Dream’s kettle laughter has got to be one of his favorite sounds in the whole world, despite how much it has calmed down over time. Hearing it now, despite in a much lower capacity, in real life, feeling Dream’s chest rumble against his, not just watching the green circle around Dream’s discord icon flicker on and off from what the mic picks up, is amazing.
“You– you–” Dream tries to get out between wheezes, but is caught up in another fit. George can’t help the loving smile bloom on his face as he listens and looks down at the man practically vibrating on top of him. Like, he really hates that he can’t be mad at his own mental typo – or Freudian slip, whatever – if it caused this. “You said Dreamnotfound–” he finally manages to get out before he erupts into another long wheeze. Then he rolls over onto George’s other side, making it so Dream’s legs were in George’s lap.
“I meant to say Dreamwastaken,” George mumbles, which just sends Dream into another laughing fit that ends in coughing. He has tears dripping down his face, which is flushed again from how much he’s laughing. George can’t help letting out his own giggles, his laugh is just too contagious. “I meant Dreamwastaken, okay?!”
“And yet you said–” he cuts himself off with another cough and more uncontrollable laughter. “You just always have DNF on the brain, don’t you, Georgie?”
“Not as much as you,” George fires back, still trying and failing to hold back his own laughter. He can’t help but openly stare at Dream as he tries his best to calm down from his laughing fit. This is the best day of his life, he’s already decided.
“That still means it’s on your mind,” Dream teases, with a tone so fond and sweet that it makes George want to do something stupid out of cuteness aggression.
George exaggeratedly sighs to make it sound like he’s about to do the hardest thing in the world. “I guess,” he relents, with a cheeky smile on his face.
“OMG, no way, he thinks about me,” Dream chuckles, slightly higher-pitched.
“Shut up,” the brunette huffs, annoyingly fond.
“Well, I can answer your question for you,” Dream dramatically pauses and lowers his voice. “I think we’re both boyfriend material.”
“Is that so?” George teases.
“If only there was,” Dream plays up his lore voice that he picked up from Sapnap. George rolls his eyes with a dopey grin. Dream lets go of one of his hands and lays it on George’s cheek. “Someone we could both use it on.”
“Yeah… I could use it on your mother,” George grins sharply, always happy to land a ‘your mom’ joke. Even when he leans into the touch.
Dream scoffs. George copies the scoff. Dream scoffs again. “George.”
“Alright, fine!” George finally relents, as if this was a difficult decision or something. As if he hasn’t been pining for years. As if they didn’t just make out for the majority of last night. “I guess you’re boyfriend material. And you’re S-O-tier. To me.”
“Let’s go,” Dream giggles triumphantly, his tone reminding him of one of their ‘Minecraft, but my best friend is’ videos. “You’re S-O-tier to me, too, obviously.”
“Obviously,” George mocks and rolls his eyes. He leans a bit more towards Dream.
“To be fair, I think it was pretty obvious,” Dream sighs, his unbandaged eye flicking between George’s eyes.
“You are pretty possessive,” George chuckles.
“You think I’m pretty?” Dream asks just to be a little shit. George huffs fondly and decides to be one back.
“Yes, I do. Beautiful, even.”
“Wh-What?” Dream stutters and George can see the blush from here. This is exactly the reaction he wanted. George only grins sharply at him, leaning more into Dream. “George,” the blonde says, flustered. “You’re so–”
“Hot? Sexy? Smart? I know,” George giggles. If anyone thought their relationship would change much, they were severely mistaken. “I’m kind of epic like that.”
“Stupid. You’re stupid and an idiot,” Dream chuckles, sounding incredibly endeared by George’s antics. “And all of those other things. And you’re beautiful and funny and cute and–”
“Okay, stop,” George stops Dream before he can continue. Dream chuckles fondly at how easily flustered George just got, unable to take it as much as he was dishing it out. Quickly trying to go back to their other topic, George leans even more towards Dream and looks down at his lips. “Well, whatever, because that makes you an even bigger idiot for dating an idiot, idiot.”
George hears Dream take a deep intake of breath, sees his mouth open in shock. “Yeah,” George grins at the astonishment in his tone. He sounds enamored by George, like he’s finally letting the floodgates fully open. George quickly looks up to see him looking at his lips now. “I guess it does.”
Then George connects their lips, neither of them wanting to wait another second. Because they can do this all the time now. They can lay in the same bed together and watch each other’s faces when they laugh until they both can’t breathe and they can kiss and touch and cuddle and hold hands. And they can do whatever they want all the time now.
“George,” Dream mumbles, pulling away reluctantly from their kiss. “As much as I want to keep kissing you, we need to be out of these rooms by 11 and I still have to pack up my room.”
“Okay, so go pack it up,” George mumbles back, nosing at Dream’s nose.
“No,” Dream whines, making George giggle. “Just– we should finish yours and then you can come back with me to my room and help me pack.”
“Or…” George grins. “You finish packing up my room and then we go to your room and you also finish putting your stuff away while I lay in your bed.”
Dream scoffs, wide smile on his face. “Lazy…”
“No,” George immediately denies. “I would just get in your way. You like your things in a particular manner. In a specific way. I wouldn’t want to mess any of that up, you know?”
“Uh huh…” Dream grins and pecks him on the lips quickly. “My boyfriend is so considerate,” he says in an overly cute voice.
“Your boyfriend sounds pretty epic, I wonder who he is,” George grins, cheeks hurting from how much he’s smiling.
Dream shrugs, which George can actually feel him doing instead of seeing or hearing it, a crazy concept. “You probably haven’t heard of him. Kind of a niche genre. His content’s… not found.”
George pulls away with a glare. “You know I was going to help you pack your shit, but you’re on your own now. I’m going to sit on your bed and look pretty and that’s it.”
Dream chuckles. “Fine, fine, just help me finish with your shit, so we can actually get out of here on time.”
“Fine,” George giggles, then pecks him on the lips before attempting to push him off. Dream grins smugly up at him as he lays there, unmoving as George tries to push him off. Finally, he gives up and crosses his arm. “Fine, stay there, see if I care. When the hotel staff comes barging in here because we haven’t checked out yet it’s gonna be your fault.”
Dream chuckles. “Okay, fine, we’re getting up.” He gets up and pulls George to his feet, tugging on him a bit harder than necessary so that George tumbles into his chest. The brunette tries to glare at the taller, but his smile gives him away. “Hi.”
The glare falters even more, growing fond. “Hi.”
Dream smiles then turns quickly away. “Okay, we have a lot to do in, like, 30 minutes, so come on.”
—
They eventually make their way to Dream’s room to finish packing his stuff. George, just like he said he would, sits prettily on Dream’s bed as he watches him pack.
“Let’s just share a room in L.A.,” George says when Dream’s almost done packing.
“What?” Dream laughs, pushing his clothes down into this suitcase. “People would, like, suspect. Like, it would be completely obvious.”
George rolls his eyes. “People basically know, since you can’t seem to keep your hands off me before we even made anything official to ourselves.” He gives him a pointed look, referring to the two clips of Dream wrapping his arm around him spreading wildly on Twitter and the countless other pictures and clips of Dream leaning into George’s personal space at every chance they get.
“Alright, listen–”
“Dream,” George just gives him another stare. “You are very obvious. People basically know.”
“Okay, but–”
“And it’s not like we’d let the fans actually know that part, like, Dream, come on,” George shrugs and puts his hands out in an obvious manner. “We were practically sitting in each other’s laps in front of all our friends last night, so… unless you’re calling all of our friends stupid, then…”
“Well… ” Dream grins, making them both laugh. “Okay, no, you’re right. But you can't say I was only obvious one when I've seen many, many clips of you giving me heart eyes when I wasn't even looking." Dream gives him a pointed look, but George only gives him an unbothered shrug. "And I do want to sleep with you, but–”
“Wow, you’re so forward, Dream. Already?” George smirks, knowing that’s not what Dream meant.
“Shut up, you know that’s not what I meant,” Dream throws one of his shirts at George. George whips it back at him, hitting him directly in the face. “Ow.”
George giggles. “Alright, fine, listen. We already booked the rooms in L.A., I get it. But… we just ignore that. Because we’re millionaires and it doesn’t matter if we waste money on hotel rooms. And then in Texas we can share the guest room. And then in Florida I’m going to steal your bed.”
Dream laughs incredulously, then walks over to George. “Fine, if you say so. I guess I’ll agree to that.” He leans down and kisses George sweetly, who links his arms behind Dream’s neck, refusing to let him go. Dream chuckles, grabbing onto George’s hands and unlinking them from behind his neck, bringing them down to George’s lap and holding them there. He kisses him again just because he can now. And George looks amazing sitting on his bed, staring up at him with his big, brown eyes, giving him a beautiful smile. This close, Dream can count the freckles on his cheeks and stare at his cute little nose that always seems to glow slightly pink at the top. The pink in his cheeks makes his freckles even more visible. The slight chip in his tooth while he smiles with his teeth, the way his tongue pokes out from behind his teeth when he smiles. Dream loves everything about him. He loves looking at him; he always has, but even more now in person.
“Good,” George nods with a funny, little smile. “Plus, I read on the internet that sleeping with a loved one will cause a more restful sleep. So, no more injuries. Or sleepwalking for me. Less night terrors for the both of us!”
“Oh yeah?” Dream chuckles. “And how’d you find that out?”
“I googled, ‘will sleeping with another person stop someone from thrashing around violently in their sleep?’ and found out.”
Dream outright laughs, moving to sit on the bed next to George instead of leaning down. He looks back over at George, smiling fondly, voice coming out as a mix of loving and teasing. “That’s just confirmation bias, baby.”
George grins, shrugging indifferently. “So? I confirmed my bias. You would sleep better with me next to you. Just share the stupid room with me.”
The blonde scoffs. “I already said I would, idiot.”
“Good. Idiot.” George crosses his arms, looking away indignantly.
“Are you sure it’s going to make a difference, like…” Dream chuckles. “You sleepwalk, I fight demons in my sleep… we’re like a haunted house couple. We’re both gonna wake up battered and bruised every morning.”
George cackles. “Poor Sapnap. He’ll never be able to tell if we’re having sex or having night terrors. We can never sleep in my room.”
Dream lightly slaps George’s arm with an embarrassed laugh. “Shut up, oh my god. I don’t wanna think about the potential of Sapnap hearing us have sex. Only our offices have the sound proofing.”
“You did put a bed in your office, so…” George giggles at the face Dream makes. “What? You’re the one that did it!”
“I didn’t have that intention with it, though, obviously,” Dream rolls his eyes, then wraps his arms around George’s waist tightly, making him squeak. Dream kisses George’s temple, then lays his cheek on his temple to whisper in his ear. “You just have a dirty mind.”
George giggles, squirming in Dream’s hold, feeling a tingling in the back of his neck. “Stop that.” He tries pushing Dream’s face away. “It tickles.”
“Good,” Dream whispers again, then nuzzles into George’s hair. George squirms more, lightly hitting Dream’s arms.
“You’re so annoying,” he huffs, reluctantly giving up. He turns his head towards Dream, kissing his nose. Then he looks over to the side and quirks his lips up, amused. “It’s 10:55, Dream…”
“Shit,” Dream mumbles, standing up quickly and forcing the rest of his stuff into his suitcases. He double checks both the bedroom and bathroom again, the drawers (even though he didn’t even use them), and any open surfaces. “Okay, let’s go.”
They both shuffle all of their luggage to the door, but George pulls on Dream’s hand to stop him from opening. “Um. One last kiss for the road?”
Dream feels himself melt on the spot, watching George look up at him, shuffling where he stands almost nervously. He makes a wounded sound before wrapping both arms around George’s waist, pulling him into his chest. George wraps his arms around Dream’s neck as they both lean in for one last kiss before they’re separated.
“It’s only a day. We’ll be back together before we know it, sweetheart,” Dream smiles softly, resting his forehead against George’s.
“I know,” the brunette sighs. “I just… I mean, like, I just got here. And now we’re being separated so soon.”
“Yeah,” Dream sighs back. “But we have that cat cafe booked the day I get there! It’ll be like our first date.”
George chuckles. “Yeah, plus, like, a bunch of other people.”
“Well, yeah, but, like, we’ll know it was our first date. There’s no better place to have a first date than at a cat cafe,” Dream giggles. “And we’ll have time to just, you know… do our own thing.”
George just shakes his head, making them both laugh at the weird feeling it gives them on their forehead. They reluctantly pull away, and Dream leans down for one last quick kiss before grabbing hold of his luggage again. “Okay, George, we seriously have to go now.”
“Fine, fine,” George sighs dramatically. They step out of the hotel room together, sad to be away from each other for a whole day, but excited to see what their new relationship level will bring them.