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Dream was never a big fan of Christmas.
It’s hard to get along well with family holidays—big reunions with people you barely see the rest of the year, pretending to bond over cheap wine and overcooked turkey, and trying to come up with the best excuse to leave the table before the clock even strikes twelve.
That’s what Christmas is all about, isn’t it?
Dream has always been a special kid. That’s what adults called him: special. He’s learnt to hate that word, just like he hated Christmas.
Well, hate is a strong feeling. It wasn’t even about the holiday, if he’s being honest, but everything that came with it—the fake smiles, the awkward conversations, and the blinking Christmas lights that glimmered outside their window, begging to be replaced for the third year in a row.
Not much was new during the holiday season. Not much was special.
Things started changing the first December after Dream’s sixteenth birthday.
He’s always been a simple boy, who liked simple things. His best friends laughing in his speakers, his cat purring on his chest, the sound of rain against his window. He allocated otherwise hurtful words to each of those things, peeling hate off with a delicate hand and letting it fall dry like autumn leaves on the mud.
Words, he’s come to realize, can mean a lot of things. Like every other weapon, words are dangerous in the wrong hands. Dream’s been fighting syllables his entire life, and he hasn’t always won. It took him years to find people who see them as roses, instead of guns.
Sapnap and George are smart and strong, and push Dream to be better. They know him like no one else does and they love him and accept him for who he is.
Dream is a special man. That’s what Sapnap and George always call him: special. He loves the way that word curls on their tongues, growing around his heart and holding his scars by the neck. The same words that once hurt him are now taking care of every wound he’s been forced to hide.
Backhanded compliments aren’t a thing in this household, and neither are alienated Christmas days. The sun is warm and happiness blooms in their shared garden, no matter the season.
George’s first December in Florida brings peace and joy, two things Dream thought he’d never be worthy of, let alone achieve. Luckily, his two best friends keep proving him wrong.
***
Dream doesn’t get the concept of Christmas spirit until he wakes up to Sapnap and George screaming very inaccurate lyrics to Silent Night, Holy Night outside his bedroom.
He’s not entirely sure what’s going on or why that’s the way he’s bound to start his day, but he doesn’t complain. Honestly, he finds it rather endearing. It’s definitely better than the yelling and bickering he has to put up with every day.
He loves the boys, but parenting them isn’t exactly what he signed up for when he suggested they all moved in together.
When he opens the door, still sluggish and a little scruffy, his friends stop in their tracks and fall utterly quiet. The scene is comedic, and keeping composure is not something they thrive in, so it’s not long until they all burst with laughter.
“You idiots woke me up,” he complains, slow and hoarse, rubbing tiredness away from his eyes. A weak yawn cuts through the sentence.
“It’s Christmas!” George says, raising his arms as a shiny grin breaks his face in half. Sapnap giggles; Dream can’t help but smile.
“Dream Team Christmas.” Sapnap puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes it lightly, handing Dream a little green ornament with his trademark smiley face on it. “First of many.”
Dream takes it in his hands, a warm feeling spreading across his chest, and flashes a private smile. He remembers designing these over a year ago, one for each member of the Dream Team. They thought they’d be able to hang them together last December, but… everyone knows how that story ends.
Things got in the way, months passed, and Dream Team Christmas 2021 soon faded into an illusion.
That night, Dream held the ball just like he’s doing now, but he turned to Sapnap and said he didn’t want it in their home tree. It didn’t feel right.
This year, however, everything is different. He looks at it for a moment longer, swallowing down those painful memories and glancing at George. George, standing idly next to him, a curious glow in his eyes.
He’s within arm’s reach.
Dream’s head spins a little, so he hugs Sapnap for stability, like he’s been doing for almost two years. “Yeah, okay,” he says, after all, a bright smile growing on his face. “Can’t complain.”
“Obviously not,” George rolls his eyes, poking his ribs with a finger. He grins at him before lazily hooking it in the pocket of his hoodie. When Dream looks at him, he pouts, and Dream just knows he’s about to ask him for something. “Also, uhm— We can’t really reach the Christmas lights.”
Dream laughs out loud, earning himself a hit or two from both his best friends. He squirms and takes a step back, releasing himself from their embrace and raising his hands in surrender. “Oh, so you want my help now?”
George rolls his eyes. Dream can tell he bites his tongue to stop a retort.
“Yes, please,” Sapnap admits, much to Dream’s delight. “You disgusting giant.”
***
It’s hot outside. Like, ridiculously hot. It doesn’t make much sense—since it’s literally winter—but Dream learned many years ago that he’s not supposed to question the Floridian weather if he appreciates his life.
Fortunately, they are not planning on going out. With the promised streams out of the way, the Dream Team has decided they will host a lazy Christmas. It feels like they deserve it, after everything they’ve been through.
It won’t be a boring Christmas, though. Dream is sure they’ll have a great time, they always do.
Around noon, he sneaks into an empty guest bedroom with a sealed box and a pair of scissors. He only runs into Patches, who looks up at him cautiously, and lets him know she won’t tell anyone about his little plan.
Well, at least Dream hopes that’s what she meant by “meow.”
***
Christmas in the Dream Team house isn’t movie-like. Dream’s family would be slightly disappointed.
The AC is on, a very cheesy movie is playing on the big TV in their living room, and George… isn’t even there.
Or that’s what Dream thinks.
He doesn’t really notice the moment George walks into the room, but he definitely notices when he throws himself onto the couch, scaring Patches off his lap.
George buries his face in the cushions; Dream can tell he’s frustrated. His arm falls loosely off the edge, and his body is twisted in a weird position that cannot possibly be comfortable. Dream is about to ask what’s up, but George’s loud groan scares his mouth shut.
“Christmas here is weird,” he concludes, words heavy and muffled against fabric. He says it like he’s been giving it some thought, like he’s been trying to find the normalcy in them for a long time but failed tremendously.
Dream raises an eyebrow and tilts his head like a puppy. “Why?”
“Dunno,” George says, as he props himself up to rest his body on his elbows. He shrugs to the best of his ability, given the position he’s in. “‘M just used to a white Christmas.”
Dream can’t hear the movie anymore, so he looks at the screen and realizes that Sapnap paused it. From his spot in the armchair, his friend turns to George with a wary look. It’s his I’m not sure what I’m supposed to say but chances are I’ll mess it up look. Dream knows it better than anyone.
“Like in the movies?” he ends up asking, and George hums in consideration. Dream nods at Sapnap, approving.
“Yeah. Snow and shit,” George explains, and rests his chin on Dream’s thigh. He’s oblivious to the telepathic conversation the other two just held. “And the fat guy,” he adds.
Dream looks down at him. He feels small and confused, and George’s head is quite heavy on his leg but he doesn’t have half the heart to brush him away. “Santa?” he asks dumbly, earning a frown in return.
“No, the other fat guy from Christmas,” George ironizes before rolling his eyes, and turning on his spot to face the ceiling. “Of course it’s Santa, idiot.”
Sapnap snorts, looking at Dream with a provoking grin and an eyebrow raised, like he just won a competition of some kind. “Dream can be Santa,” he funs, getting his glint back.
“Don’t think so,” he says, and leans forward to swat his arm. George’s head still on his lap doesn’t give him too much leeway, so the hit is weak, and Sapnap mocks him again. Dream makes up for it by throwing a cushion at him.
George squirms, annoyed at the movement. Dream and Sapnap have always known about his cat tendencies, but it’s unusual for him to be this defeated. It makes Dream feel a little uneasy, the way his bliss faded since they were all together in the kitchen, making gingerbread houses. He hates not knowing what went wrong.
Aside from the houses, of course.
“He can’t,” George comments, glancing up at Dream judgmentally. “He’s too boring.”
“Wow,” Dream brings a hand up to his own chest, with a fake hurt expression taking over his face. He’s being attacked. He could do a great Santa. In fact, he did; but his friends don’t need to know that. He wouldn’t see the end of it. “That’s rude, George.”
George shrugs. “Don’t care.”
He lazily extends his arm towards a tassel ornamenting the curtain next to them. Dream unties it for him and holds it above his head teasingly. George glares at him before snatching it from his hands, but fidgets with it all the same. Dream chooses not to point out how Patches was playing with it earlier.
“It’s just— hot,” George ends up saying, letting his hands fall in surrender. He shuts his eyes and presses them together, like he’s trying to turn the white dots he sees into warm Christmas lights. “Christmas isn’t supposed to be hot.”
Dream grimaces, taking a hold of George’s infectious vexation. He pats his shoulder in understanding and leans back on the couch, staring at the ceiling like it will give him all the answers he needs. Sapnap groans and nudges his foot, frowning at him.
Don’t let him get to you, is what he means. Dream presses his lips into a line.
“What the hell do you want, George?” Sapnap asks, throwing back the cushion, but aiming for George. He kind of deserves it for bumming everyone out, but he catches the projectile mid-air, and blows Sapnap a raspberry.
Dream decides to chime in before their little scene evolves into a proper fight. It wouldn’t be very Christmas-y. “I can lower the AC,” he says, off the top of his head, poking George’s side to get his attention.
George stops in his tracks and looks up at him with a frown, letting the cushion fall to the floor. “That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve said all night,” he jabs, and now Dream is actually annoyed.
“Fine!” he groans, shaking his leg a little to disturb the boy still resting on it. He doesn’t get to complain like this without some bumps in the road. “What do you want me to do, then?”
He winces and swats Dream’s thigh, wrapping his arms around another cushion. He looks like a kid throwing a tantrum, and it would be endearing if he knew how to fix it, if ignorance wasn’t so off-putting.
“I don’t know, Dream,” he shrugs again, turning his gaze back to the ceiling. He gives back the tassel and crosses his arms against his chest. “Figure it out.”
“Yeah, Dream,” Sapnap agrees, shooting him a dire look. “Do something so he’ll shut the fuck up.”
“I can’t make it snow, guys,” he sighs, letting his head fall on the back on the couch. He looks up again, but the ceiling isn’t as interesting to him as it is to George.
“Not with that attitude,” Sapnap says. Dream can’t help but notice how tired he sounds, and it’s dumb, because they haven’t really done anything all day.
George snorts, turning in place to lie sideways, face aimed at Sapnap. “You sound like Karl.”
They haven’t done anything all day, Dream repeats to himself. On their first Christmas together.
“Yeah, why aren’t we with Karl again?” George asks, oblivious to the storm breaking inside Dream’s head.
Dream looks down at him. “We had to be here yesterday for the streams,” he explains, for the third time this week. “Like I told you.” His voice lacks feeling, half his mind still stuck in the fact that this is plainly wrong.
Sapnap grimaces, making George giggle. “We could’ve gone today, though,” he says, faking an innocent smile.
“We’ll spend New Year’s with them,” Dream tells him, slipping annoyance into his voice. He’s not annoyed at this, though; he’s annoyed at himself. He should have noticed sooner.
“Them?” George asks, looking genuinely curious. He must have forgotten. Or he wasn’t paying attention in the first place. Either way, Dream isn’t surprised. It’s not like he’d call him out on it, anyway.
“Karl, Quackity, Foolish, Punz and Tina,” he lists, patiently, and George nods. The frown on his face hasn’t left, but none of his friends seem to notice. He stares at the paused movie on the TV, and he swears his newfound Christmas spirit dies a little bit.
“Eight outta eight New Year’s,” Sapnap cheers, raising his arms. His smile looks more real, but that only makes Dream feel worse. He doesn’t like Sapnap being joyful about the promise of togetherness; he doesn’t like him looking forward to New Year’s when they should all be enjoying Christmas first.
He doesn’t like that George is right.
“Yeah,” Dream mutters.
“That’s crazy,” George says, sitting up to lean back on the couch. He flexes his legs up and wraps his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees. His tone is almost robotic, digging itself into Dream’s chest like a sharp dagger. “Epic, one might say. At least, we’re getting one nice holiday,” he nags, avoiding his friend’s gaze.
“George, shut up,” Sapnap warns, and Dream knows he’d throw him another cushion, if he had one. “Stop being a bitch,” he says, furrowing his brows, unfriendly.
George snorts and groans, annoyed. “I’m bored!” he complains again before turning to look at Dream again. “Dream, I’m bored.”
Dream sighs, surrendering. “Okay, you’re right. This is boring. What d’you wanna do?”
George hums in thought. When he looks back at him, an idea glows in his eyes. “What did you do last Christmas?”
Dream frowns. “When you weren’t here?” he asks. George nods. “Uhm… We just— watched movies. We baked cookies, I think,” he turns to Sapnap, who shrugs, and back to George. “And called you, at some point.”
“Fine,” George grins, jumping off the couch. His friends stare at him. “Let’s do that.”
“You want us to call you?” Sapnap asks, and Dream has to stop George from grabbing the infamous cushion.
George groans, turning to him. He’s eager, Dream can tell. He shines a little brighter. “No, idiot, the other things,” he explains, reaching out a hand to pull at Sapnap’s sleeve. “But better, ‘cause it’s with me now. See?”
“I mean, I guess we can do that,” Dream grants, nervously scratching the back of his neck. “But, uhm— I’ll have to leave around, like, ten.”
Sapnap arches his brow, looking offended. “You’ll have to leave?” he asks, and Dream wants to hide under the coffee table. He can be scary. “Where the fuck are you going?”
Dream smiles, bashful, but his friend doesn’t buy it. He sighs. “Not— Not leave leave, I just have something to do. Upstairs.”
George also frowns, placing his hands on his hips, and staring at him intently. “Do you have a scheduled Christmas wank or something?”
Dream splutters, sitting straighter and choking on his own spit. “What— No! What’s wrong with you?” Sapnap bursts with laughter, and Dream feels his cheeks grow warm in embarrassment.
Sapnap leans forward, peering at him with a funny look on his face. “What is it then, Dream? Why can’t it be postponed?”
George sits on the armrest of Sapnap’s chair, and mimics his attitude. “Yeah, why are you so secretive?” he asks.
Dream hates that most of the times they agree on something, it’s when they team up against him. “It’s just— It’s a surprise, okay?” he lets out, swinging his arms around for effect. His friends don’t break. “I can’t tell you. A Christmas— gift, I guess. For you. So— stop questioning me, I’m being nice.”
Sapnap pouts, mockingly. “Oh, you’re so sweet, Clay,” he says, high-pitched, and Dream rolls his eyes.
George gets up again, lips curled up slightly, and pokes Dream’s chest with an accusatory finger. “As long as it’s not a wank…”
“George!”
***
Cookie baking was bound to be disastrous since minute one.
Dream tried his best, he really did; but despite his best attempts, it’s scientifically proven that nothing involving George and Sapnap in a kitchen can turn out right. It’s a mathematical fallacy. The hidden eleventh commandment, which Dream just unlocked by living under the same roof as them for three months. It’s just plainly impossible.
Dream knew that beforehand, and he still decided to test his luck because what could possibly go wrong?
A burnt batch of cookies later, he wishes he’d never asked that question.
Okay, to cut them some slack, he wouldn’t say they are absolutely ruined. They are overly sweet due to a little miscalculation with the sugar, and shaped like a two year old was handling the molds, but they are edible. Barely. He wouldn’t die if he had one or two.
That’s how low the bar is.
The two year old in question was Sapnap, who is guilty of many things, but can’t be blamed for the flour covered floor or the messy countertop. That was all George’s.
But what Dream really doesn’t know is how the paper bag that contained said flour ended up on his cat’s head. He’s not gonna lie, he found that quite funny.
Their fans did, too. Because of course George would make a TikTok about it.
Dream can’t really blame him. It’s his first domestic Christmas too, after all. And the George and Patches content is always welcomed. Especially when one of the two is wearing a cute little Christmas hat.
But Dream won’t say which one. That would be crossing a line.
***
They still bring the burnt cookies back to the living room, along with three cups of hot cocoa and marshmallows. Once they’re settled in the three-seat sofa, Dream in the middle, Patches jumps onto George’s lap.
“She loves me the most,” George brags, petting her head and catching his best friends’ attention.
Sapnap’s laugh dies out in the blink of an eye. Dream doesn’t really know what they were laughing about in the first place, but it started with a your mum joke, he’s sure. He looks at the two, bracing himself for the storm that’s about to break.
“No, she doesn’t,” Sapnap argues, easily, before looking back down to his mug like the whole matter is settled.
“Obviously, she does,” George smiles, lifting her in his arms to look into her eyes. “Ain’t that right, Patchy? Meow if you love me.”
Call it coincidence, but right that second, the cat raises her little paw to swat at George’s cheek and meows loudly.
Dream grins, softened by the scene. George looks at him like he’s seeking approval to hold such a relationship with his pet. Sapnap bursts the bubble by stretching his arm to hit the back of George’s head, causing him to accidentally bang his nose against the cat’s muzzle. As a result, she writhes out of his grasp, giving him total freedom to return the hit.
“You scared her away, idiot!” George yells, frowning at Sapnap and looking around to try to get the cat back.
“No, I didn’t. Your dumb face did,” Sapnap one corrects, grinning smugly, and leaving his cocoa on the coffee table.
“You’re dumb,” George replies, turning to face him, and totally ignoring the presence between them.
“Your mom is dumb!” Sapnap leans forward, too, and if someone were to take a picture of the three right now, it would do an excellent meme.
Dream’s eyes follow Patches on the floor, who gave up a lot faster than him and is now lying peacefully on the armchair. Dream would swear she’s judging him for not doing the same thing, and allowing George and Sapnap to fight like cat and dog without having to parent them.
The thing is, Dream tries to stay away from their fights as much as he can, but this one found him particularly involved. And he’d much rather make a way through the tide of hands that are being thrown around and leave, but he’s too much of a sweetheart to let his roommates kill each other.
Well, he feels for George. He knows Sapnap would totally kick his ass.
He keeps composure for about three collateral hits, until he decides he’s fed up and takes action on the matter. He lifts himself from the back of the couch, sitting right in the middle of the battlefield, and glares at one boy at a time.
“Okay, okay— Can you— Guys, stop!” he yells, frowning lightly, bringing the bickering to a halt. “It’s Christmas,” he reminds them, taking Sapnap’s mug and putting it back on his hands, careful not to spill anything. “We’re gonna sit here, like a family, and we’re gonna watch a movie,” he says, looking back and forth between the two. “And you two are gonna zip it, okay?”
“Ugh, fine,” George sighs, laying back on the couch and looking at him through the corner of his eye.
“Great.” Dream looks at Sapnap. “Nick?”
Sapnap rolls his eyes and sips. “Yes, daddy.”
George snorts at the joke, earning a glare from Dream and a funny look from Sapnap. Dream leans back too, defeated, dragging a hand down his face.
“Whatever, I don’t care,” he says, unburying the remote from under the cushions. “Are you done now?” he looks at Sapnap, who holds his gaze for exactly three seconds before bursting out laughing, bringing everyone else with him. “I hate you both.”
George lifts his legs up to the couch and sneaks his feet under Dream’s thigh. Sapnap lays on his shoulder and smiles up at him, feigning innocence. “No, you don’t.”
“Yeah, Dream, that’s not very Christmas-y,” George adds, jabbing his stomach, eliciting another giggle from him.
Dream shakes his head, fondly. “Shut up and watch the movie, idiots.”
***
Dream hits the pause button around quarter past ten. He gets up abruptly, turning around to face the two frowning boys on the couch, and beams.
“Let’s go,” he says, reaching out a hand for each, and raising an eyebrow.
Sapnap and George look at each other and then back at Dream, tilting their heads almost like it’s choreographed, and seeming confused.
Sapnap is the first one to talk. “What? Where?”
“Upstairs,” he says, shrugging lightly. “I have something to show you.”
George’s frown deepens, and he almost looks scared. “What the fuck do you wanna show us?”
“No, I—” he splutters, retrieving his hands to drag them down his face. “God, I told you I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh,” Sapnap smirks, teasingly, and he sits up on the couch. “What kind of surprise, Dreamie boy?”
Dream flicks his forehead. “Will you two just come upstairs? Please?”
George jumps up and stands beside him, looking down at Sapnap with a curious face. He shrugs in defeat before following his lead, signaling at Dream to go first towards the stairs. Dream sighs deeply and obliges, his two best friends right behind him.
They walk in silence and, for some reason, it’s somewhat uncomfortable. He stops in front of a closed door, one of the unfurnished guest rooms, and smiles shyly at them before quietly asking if they’re ready for him to open the door. Without saying a word, the boys look impatiently at the handle, and Dream’s hand rests there for a moment longer.
“Alright, this might be stupid,” he warns, avoiding their gazes, and lazily scratching the back of his head. “It was my sister’s idea and I thought it was nice, but now I think you might make fun of me, so—”
“Dream,” George cuts him off, throwing his head backwards in exasperation before looking back at him menacingly. “Just open the door.”
“Of course we’re gonna make fun of you, bro,” Sapnap clarifies, patting his back, and pushing him slightly forward.
Dream groans before giving up, and finally letting the door crack open.
George walks in first, and Dream catches the way he shakes his head lightly in surprise. He looks at the ceiling as Sapnap follows him, the corners of his lips curling up and his eyebrows raising in admiration for Dream’s work.
The room is cold as fuck, bordering on freezing. Hanging from the ceiling, there are little blue led lights, suspended at different heights and wrapped in pieces of white paper. There’s a fake snowman looking at them from a corner, along with Christmas decorations carefully placed all over the usually empty room.
George looks back at Dream wearing a frown and a smile at the same time, a question in his face and a funny glimmer in his eyes. “What is this, Dream?” he voices, turning back around after a moment to keep drinking everything in.
Sapnap just giggles, picking up a stuffed reindeer from the floor. “Bro, this is so cool. When did you do it?”
“Well, uhm— I— didn’t really know George would be so bitchy about wanting a white Christmas—”
“Hey!” George cuts him off, lightly swatting his arm and looking at Sapnap with a raised brow, like he’s asking for support.
Sapnap shrugs. “Well, you were…”
“Anyway, I didn’t know he’d say it, but… It was kinda perfect, honestly, because I had all this up here,” he explains, moving closer to one of the lights and pointing at it. “I can’t make it snow, but— Well, these were supposed to be snowflakes. And— And the snowman is, uhm, fitting. And there’s— stuff, around, and— Yeah, well. It’s cold,” he finishes, shrugging shyly, and staring at his friends while he waits for a reaction.
A grin breaks on Sapnap’s face, and he walks a few steps forward to swing an arm around his shoulders. He leans down a little bit to make it more comfortable for both of them, and smiles back gently. “Dude, this is so cool.”
Dream’s eyes light up as he looks at his brother, hugging back with the same enthusiasm. “Really? You think so?”
“Of course!” he smiles and lets go of him, looking at George, who’s yet to speak. “Right, George?”
George looks dazzled, playfully touching one of the pretend snowflakes with a private smile flashing on his face. He snaps back from his trance at the mention of his name, and furrows his brows as the smile grows more friendly. “I don’t really know what to say,” he confesses, looking back up at the decorations. “It’s epic.”
Dream’s heart warms to their approval, and his smile grows even brighter. Sapnap puts a hand on his shoulder and shakes it lightly, encouraging. “I’m really glad you like it.”
***
Dream stands by the window, staring into the night sky, usually showered in stars, and tilting his head when he notices it’s darker than usual—lifeless, gray, covered in clouds. He squints as his lips curl up in a soft smile.
His two best friends play with the decorations on the floor, arguing about who’d make the best snowman and ignoring Dream’s little moment with the Floridian sky. Dream looks back at them for a second, the grin on his face growing a little warmer, and walks towards the door with happiness bubbling under his skin.
“Let’s go,” he tells them, glancing at the window once more as tiny water drops start to cover it.
Both his friends frown up at him, stopping in their tracks and looking confused. “What? Where?” Sapnap asks, taking a step towards him.
“I can’t make it snow,” Dream repeats, one more time. He nods at the window, driving the boys’ attention there, and he sees it when it clicks in his brother’s face. “But I might’ve made it rain.”
George giggles, walking towards the door. “You didn’t make it rain, idiot. You’re no Ted Mosby.”
“Oh, come on,” Dream rolls his eyes, amused, guiding the way down the hall. “I could be.”
“Would you steal a blue french horn for me, Dream?” Sapnap asks, following him to the front door, and pulls a giggle out of his friends.
Dream lets them out with a fond smile just as the drizzle intensifies, turning into a proper downpour. “I stole a Florida sign for you two, didn’t I?”
The boys laugh as they stand on their entrance, letting the rain fall, soaking them head to toe. George opens his mouth as cold drops of water fall on his face and tongue, and chortles when Sapnap threatens to push him into a puddle. Dream walks towards them as they all burst with laughter, victims of the sky but happier than they’ve ever been.
Sapnap swings an arm around George’s shoulders and pulls him closer, messing with his hair as Dream wraps them in a tight hug. “I’m happy you’re both here now,” he whispers into the air above their heads, patting their backs once or twice before breaking apart.
George pokes his ribs with a shiny smile, and looks up at him. “Me too am I.”
“Me too, bro,” Sapnap grins, taking a few steps back before looking up at the sky. “Dream Team, together at last!” he screams at the top of his lungs, rainwater falling down his face.
For the first time in his life, the holidays bring genuine smiles, friendly conversations, and Christmas lights shining brighter than a thousand stars. And it’s just his friends with hot cocoa and burnt cookies, standing under the rain at ten thirty in the evening, but Dream’s heart feels like it’s about to explode inside his chest.
Because finally, Christmas feels like family. Finally, Dream knows he’s home.