Chapter Text
They were eating pizza.
Typical. Classic. It was their thing.
They’d eat pizza, they’d joke around. And then the alarms would blare and it would be time to fight crime in the city. They would fight, and win, and then they’d come back and eat more pizza, and George would deny him a date for the umpteenth time.
Dream was starting to get bored.
Everything was too tedious. It was almost like nothing ever happened.
They were supposed to be superheroes, supposed to protect the city from the goddamn SBI. They were, and did, but that was all . Dream didn’t just want to be a superhero, he wanted to be someone's boyfriend. God, he was fucking tired of George always rejecting him. He was so close to giving up. Yet, every time he tried to ask out a civilian after their tussles with the villains, George would be completely unreasonable.
“Nice to meet you,” he’d say, kissing the person’s hand. “I’m Dream.”
They’d swoon, they might faint, but the second they would start to say ‘yes’ to Dream’s question of taking them out, they would go purple.
They would stop moving, and Dream would freak the fuck out, and then he’d hear an annoyed scoff and realize that it was George. Again.
Every single time he asked someone out, his half-demon superhero partner would paralyze them and act like it meant nothing. It confused Dream out of his mind, and he was tired of it. Why did he have to be so difficult? Did he really need to be such an instigator?
George was hard as hell to read, but Dream liked to think of himself as the only person that knew what he was thinking (except for the part where he kept fucking possessing all his possible options of romance).
God, sometimes Dream just wanted to kiss him to see what he would do.
He would never do that, though. Because (1) he never wanted to upset George in any way possible because he cared about him. And, (2) he was terrified of what George might do to him if he did. The brunet was into some weird shit.
Whatever. One day George would say ‘yes’ to him. Surely.
Maybe today, even.
They were eating pizza. Dream was sat next to Sapnap, who was sat next to Karl, who was sat next to Quackity. George was hovering in the air next to them. (Such a show-off, but so goddamn attractive while acting like a bitch anyway.)
When the pizza was finished, they all went their own ways.
Karl was blasting spurs of pink at different forms of Sapnap to see which animal was the strongest to persevere through alien blasts. (Rhino was the toughest, in conclusion.) And Quackity was at his computer, either developing some insane new medical cure for superheroes again, or reprogramming his own data set inside his head.
Dream was sitting on the couch, leg bouncing in anticipation. It was an everyday thing. It was usual. The other three would go off to their own things, and then Dream and George would be left alone. Sometimes George would sit down next to him on the couch and deny his love a hundred times. Other times, he would float all the way to his room, shut the door, and do whatever weird demon rituals he got up to in the dark.
Dream’s suit felt tight. (It was always tight, but now that he was nervous, he almost felt like he was suffocating.)
George plopped down on the couch beside him, and suddenly the air felt ten times more breathable. He’d floated down slowly, cape waving in his wake, until his bum hit the sofa in a spot next to Dream.
He didn’t look Dream’s way, but said, “Dream.”
All the fires of George’s demon hell swept over Dream’s body at the tone. He gulped, chest impossibly tight, “George.”
They never talked like this. (Well, not that they were talking. But George was never one to start the conversation. Usually, all he said was a prompt ‘no’ to Dream’s antics.) This was new.
As George was about to say something, the goddamn alarm rang. Red rang throughout the tower, and Dream was standing up, staring at the tv for the threat before he could blink.
George sat on the couch for a moment longer, stunned, before he joined Dream’s side. If he was floating closer to the team leader than usual, then nobody needed to know but himself.
They boarded the elevator, they ran out of the tower. Toward the city, toward the threat. So casual, because they were used to it already.
Buildings were lit on fire, rubble was falling to the ground. Tommy was flying around, shooting shit at innocent civilians, and Wilbur was going in and out of focus every five seconds, completely ruthless as he smashed the buildings with flame.
Sapnap transformed into what looked like a bigger version of a spiny echidna almost immediately (echidnas were fireproof, apparently), and raced toward Wilbur. Karl followed behind, eventually picking up echidna-Nap and flying them both to the top of a nearby skyscraper Wilbur was currently setting alight.
Dream saw Quackity running toward Techno (who, Dream hadn’t seen at first), and George was glaring at Tommy as if the kid had personally offended him.
Standing still in the middle of a supervillain fight was not something Dream wanted to do. (He was the team leader, after all. There were people counting on him.) So, he pulled out his staff and raced to a nearby building, hoping to find wherever the fuck Phil was.
Phil was the leader of SBI, so, since Dream was also a leader, he usually ended up going after the other. Phil was tough– he was basically an older, more experienced version of Tommy. He had wings too, but he didn’t use them all that much (at least, not as much as Tommy did), and most of the time, he’d sit and wait for Dream to find him. Only then would he engage in the fight.
Dream saw a flash of brilliant black plume and used his stick to push upwards, practically sailing through the sky until he was on a balcony looking over the city. At least fifty feet up, Phil was there, back turned in a way so Dream could only see his wings.
He took a step forward, flicking his stick in his hand. “Phil,” he said, “when will you realize that you’re never going to win?”
A sinister chuckle came from behind the wings. Dream would have shivered had he been less experienced. (He’d worked with Batman for goodness sake. He’d fought the Joker and the Penguin and god knows who else by Batman’s side. Phil and Jump City were nothing compared to those creeps in Gotham.)
“I think you’re the one at a loss this time, Dream.”
There was a beat of silence, and then, BOOM.
All around Dream, buildings were falling. There were fires everywhere and smoke and screaming people. He thought his team had prevented this, but when he flipped his head around, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy were surrounding the guys.
Sapnap was back to human form, Karl’s hands were tied together in what looked like power-proof cuffs and a blindfold was over his eyes, and Quackity’s insane arm gun was smashed into. (It would take forever to fix his arm, and Dream knew Quackity would be pissed if he had to reprogram his entire body.)
They were cornered, and Phil was slowly approaching him, sword gleaming in fury.
But they were missing one person. Dream almost smiled in relief.
He knew George would pop into the scene soon enough. He’d probably possess Tommy again, and make him go after his own group. Or, maybe like last time, he’d possess them all and pin them against each other. Or, he’d send them all–
His thoughts were cut off by a sword slashing the air next to his face. A close call, but Dream was used to those. He swung his arm around and charged at Phil. He hit his stomach in a sweeping shot, but when he went to hit Phil again, he was floating in the air, ready to deliver a strike to Dream’s head.
Dream, though, was able to duck. But soon enough, Phil was aiming for him again.
And this time, it looked like he wasn’t going to miss.
He wielded his stick up, covering his face in a completely defensive move (what else was he supposed to do when a massive bird man was on his ass?), and shut his eyes for dear mercy, but the blow never came. Curious, he opened his eyes again, and Phil was enveloped in purple.
As Phil was stuck in place, Dream breathed a sigh of relief. George had saved the day again, and Dream was happier than ever. (It was a common thing for George to save him all the time with his demon abilities, but Dream’s heart still skyrocketed every time.)
He raised his stick and wacked Phil in the noggin, enough to make him pass out when George released his grip. He hit both of Phil's wings after, too, just for good measure.
At the third wack, Phil fell to the ground, unconscious, as George’s pull diminished. It was a sight, but Dream was more interested in where the brunet was. He looked around, but there was no one else there. Wilbur, Techno, and Tommy were still circling the other three.
Quackity looked like he was plotting something, and when Dream crept closer, he was smiling in delight at the half-robot’s schemes. Quackity would know what to do; he always did.
Sapnap was still trying to shift into something else, but the handcuffs were restraining him. He looked pissed off, and Dream would have laughed at him if they weren’t in the particular ordeal they’d stumbled upon.
Karl was on the ground, struggling to fly and see, etc, and he was holding Sapnap’s shoulder as a way of keeping himself in place. (They made Dream properly jealous. Why didn’t he get to touch George for comfort?)
Quackity had his hand on his temple, and he was staring in a dazed way. Dream knew he was probably calculating all types of shit inside of his head, but he said nothing as he watched the brunet do his thing.
His fist was tensed, like he was loading up for a killer blow. And Dream could just barely see the red glow flowing from his veins. He grinned, watching Quackity blast off the handcuffs (their power-cuff-things hadn’t worked on him since he was only half human). His came off, and then he pulsed off Karl’s and Sapnap’s until they were all back to their full superhero capacity.
Dream watched in awe as they formed up, eyes gleaming at the villains in front of them.
Wilbur and Techno took a step back, Tommy flew up higher. They looked stunned– the way they always did whenever Dream and the team had them right where they wanted them.
As Karl flew forward, Techno launched himself toward Quackity. Sapnap followed Karl and helped deliver a razor-sharp slash (he was now a tiger) right to Wilbur’s chest. Quackity shot Techno with his arm-cannon-thing, but the man wasn’t discouraged as he went again, this time launching towards Quackity before he could recharge.
Just as Dream was about to intervene, George popped up in front of Techno, and generated a massive purple (evil-looking) magic ball. He threw it Techno’s way, and launched him back a couple of feet.
He looked incredible, and hot, and Dream had to remind himself that now was not the time to swoon over a demon boy.
Before he could cheer, Tommy was swooping down, beelining right for George’s head. This time, he moved in. Before Tommy could make contact with George, Dream was reaching out his stick, wacking the back of the blond’s wings until he was falling to the ground.
He looked small on the ground, like a little kid, and it made Dream almost forget Tommy was a supervillain for a moment. Just a moment.
But the blond was getting back up too easily. His wing looked a little crooked, and he winced when he moved, but he was up nonetheless. And he was frowning.
Dream went to wack him again with his stick, but his stick was caught mid-slash, thrown across the roof. A huge shadow wrapped around them, black wings towering over. Phil was back. And he looked pissed.
Generally, their fights didn't last this long. It was usually quick, and for the most part, easy.
Right then, it felt like Dream was fighting for his life. He’d never been this on edge before.
George threw some magic in Phil’s face, but it did little damage. He opened a portal, but Phil’s wings spurred out big enough so that it was much too hard to fit. George tried to widen the gate, but it fizzed out too quick. The brunet was tired.
Right. Their most powerful fighter (maybe second most powerful, counting Karl) was almost out of gas. It was… not good.
It was especially not good when Phil launched for George, right when the brunet was at his weakest. (Portals were hard for him. They took too much energy, and he’d already used so much earlier in the fight.)
Dream raced toward the two, but he was practically defenseless without his stick. He didn’t know what the fuck he was doing, but he knew he needed to save George.
“Dream!” A voice called out while he was running. He turned his head just in time to see Quackity toss a goddamn sword his way. Where the hell did he get that? He caught it anyway, and managed to slice off the tiniest bit of Phil’s wings before he reached the brunet.
He wasn’t a killer, but the blade did massive damage. Phil jumped back, head turning to look at one-third of his left wing on the ground. Dream almost smiled.
Tommy was speeding toward him a moment after, but when Dream glanced in his peripheral, Karl and Sapnap were heading his way. The handcuffs they’d worn previously were now strapped onto Wilbur, newly fixed (probably all thanks to Quackity). The brunet looked out of it, almost as faded as he did when transitioning between his solid and phased form.
Quackity was heading his way too, with Techno handcuffed as well, hands tied behind his back. (Techno had, like, crazy strength. Quackity was the only one who could rival him because of all the robot parts.)
Now it was just Phil and Tommy versus the entire Team. An easy win, surely.
Phil, though, decided to be fucking difficult and went right for the other three. He released the god-awful smoke bombs he had (in the shape of bird eggs, no less) and committed critical hits to them underneath the smoke.
Dream was worried, but he hardly had time to worry when Tommy was going after George, anger in his eyes from before. His wings looked fine now, and the thought of how quickly his health was regenerated made Dream shiver. What else could the kid do?
He was a deviation from Phil, after all. It was like he gained more power, like he grew, every time he fought. (He hadn’t been able to fly at first, and now…) Now, he could do so much more than Dream expected.
As if he had read Dream’s thoughts, Tommy’s fingers turned into fucking talons. Talons! How the hell was Dream supposed to parry talons?
Whatever. He had… a sword. And a stick, somewhere.
Tommy was too quick, though. He dove in and practically pounced onto George.
Nobody got to jump on George. Dream wanted to kill this kid.
He thought George would duck or teleport away or fight back, but he looked so wiped out that Tommy was easily able to knock him down, his newly formed talons slicing the shoulders of George’s cloak.
Dream rushed over, but the blond’s talons found their way to George’s throat.
“One wrong move, Dream,” he said, face so serious it would have killed a joker, “One wrong move and he’s gone.”
Dream just… stood there. Seething.
He turned around to gaze at his friends. Sapnap had transformed into a griffin (?) and his form was almost as large as Phil’s wings. Karl was flying above, shooting down pink bouts of energy in between using his laser eyes, but even he looked exhausted. The team had never fought this hard before.
Quackity was somewhere else, but Dream couldn’t see. He was probably doing something immensely useful that would end up helping them later on. Hopefully.
Tommy inched closer. George looked absolutely fed up with everything. He groaned, looking right at Dream, “Thanks for the help,” he mumbled weakly.
Dream felt terrible, really. He just didn’t exactly know what to do. He was the team leader, he was supposed to do something. He was supposed to know how to help George.
But he didn’t.
Or…
Well, maybe he did. He could only hope it would work.
“Tommy,” he said, covering up his fright with confidence. “Why would you want to hurt George when you could take me instead?”
The blond tilted his head, so Dream continued, “I mean, I’m the team leader, right? Wouldn’t defeating me be better than this… this demon?”
George almost looked offended; Dream reminded himself to apologize later.
Tommy furrowed a brow, “You have a point.”
His claw left George’s throat. His wings turned upward. And then he was turned toward Dream instead, going after him like a child wanting candy on Halloween.
Dream felt the air leave his chest as Tommy jumped him. His grip on the sword was relinquished as it clattered to the ground, far enough away that he couldn’t reach for it. The blond was above him, smiling to himself as his talon met Dream’s neck– a neck that would not heal as quickly as George’s would have.
It was fine, though. Dream was happy to take the fall instead of George; he would always do damage control if the brunet ended up being fine in the long run. Besides, his plan would hopefully work. He hadn’t seen Quackity in a while, which was always good.
“Any last words, Dream?” Tommy said, raising his hand to the air, talons sharper than ever.
Dream gulped. He was terrified, honestly. He was too young to die— he never even gotten to have a boyfriend, never had George as a boyfriend. Surely, he wouldn’t die before he finally won the brunet’s love… Right?
With a swift turn of the neck, careful not to hit Tommy’s talon, Dream was faced toward George (who was still on the ground, looking as threateningly endearing as ever). “Do you want to go out with me?” he croaked, sending an eyes-wide smile George’s way.
Usually, this was the time when George would roll his eyes and say a firm ‘No.’ Instead, he rolled his eyes and said, “Maybe. If you survive this.” Dream swears he saw a smile in the corners of George’s lips. His heart felt full at the notion– he could die a happy man.
Not that he wanted to die. He very much so wanted to live. If not for the incredible date with George he was already planning in his head, then for the city. Jump City needed him for protection, the Titans needed him. He wasn’t going to fall into the clutches of death just yet. Quackity was going to save him any moment.
“I’m not homophobic or anything, but that was fucking cringe, dude,” Tommy said, nose scrunched in disgust. “Last words are supposed to be cool, not desperate.”
Dream was not desperate. He wasn’t.
But he didn’t have any time to argue because the blond was shaking his head solemnly as his hand slashed downwards. Everything was moving in slow motion: Tommy’s arm flew down, down, down. Dream tried to close his eyes before realizing that blackness was not the last thing he wanted to see before he passed away. He turned to look at George again, only to see the burnet smiling– well, grinning maniacally– at something behind him.
And then, when talons surely would have struck Dream’s throat by then, Tommy was thrown off of his body by some outside force. The world sped back up again, and Dream gasped when he saw Quackity standing upright, his left fist completely vanished.
Dream took another glance at Tommy and grinned. Rocket Punch.
God, he loved all of Quackity’s cool abilities so much. The man was a walking video game character. He was epic.
Tommy grabbed his stomach when Quackity’s fist flew backward to reattach. He groaned and looked Dream in the eye, “Fuck you.”
Right then, Karl and Sapnap dropped in right beside them (dropped in, as in Karl had flown the both of them up, holding onto Sapnap’s waist the way Dream wished he could hold George’s). Dream stole a glance at them and grinned when he saw Phil with the same debilitating handcuffs next to Wilbur and Techno. The leader was defeated, and now, the only SBI boy left was Tommy. An easy win.
And yet, Dream kind of didn’t want to hurt Tommy more than he had to. Yeah, the kid was seriously bad news and probably evil based on the company he kept around, but he was a kid. He was probably only a couple of years younger than Dream was, maybe 17? 18? The boy had probably been raised all his life to be a villain. So what would happen if he lived with heroes for a change?
George didn’t seem to share the same idea. He was floating again, and his arms were weaving circles in the air. Demon language was spoken lowly, and then Tommy was wrapped up in glowing purple ropes, much too tightly.
He growled and tried to slash through them, but when his talons made contact with the demon magic, they sunk back into the tips of his fingers. George was seriously talented at magic because what the fuck. If Tommy’s wings weren’t part of the boy’s spine, Dream suspected they would be gone too.
The purple ropes, however, started squeezing tighter and tighter. Tommy groaned and tried to squirm, but it was no use under George’s grip.
Dream took a step toward George. He mustered all the team-leader confidence he could, and said, “Stop.”
But George didn’t’ stop, and instead started to open up a portal. Inside the circle looked dark and scary and hellish. There was no way Dream was letting George send Tommy there. The kid was bad, sure, but not that bad.
“I thought you were out of magic,” he stated coolly, trying to turn George’s attention anywhere else besides the blond kid in front of them.
George rolled his eyes without even looking Dream’s way. “I was recharging.” He squeezed his hands together, grip compact enough to make his hands shake. “So I could do this.”
Tentatively, Dream placed a hand on the brunet’s shoulder. (George hated touch, but Dream was planning to do just about anything to save George from the regret of killing a kid.) “We’re not here to kill him, George. We save people, remember?”
The brunet’s stare was still faced away, but his face fell, his grip loosened. “He tried to kill me, Dream. He almost killed you. You could have died because you were enough of an idiot to act like the hero. I can’t just…”
Dream wasn’t used to George caring about him this much. He knew George loved him platonically (sigh), but the brunet never really voiced it out loud. He’d never expressed emotion before. It was so unlike him that Dream just stood there for a moment. He had no idea what to even do with himself. Until he heard a cry from Tommy.
“I know,” Dream said, slowly bringing his other hand up to George’s shoulder. “But he’s never been taught how to be good.” Fingers reached down to George’s chest, and laced together so that Dream’s chin was resting at the top of George’s hair. It was a backwards hug– the first hug they’d ever shared. His voice turned to a soft whisper, “Let him go.”
George was tense for a moment. Then, his arms fell and he was falling onto Dream. He flipped around until his head was buried in the blond’s chest. Dream swore he heard a mumbled, ‘thank you,’ but he was too caught up in the sensation of George in his arms that it was almost like he’d blacked out from everything else.
As much as he wanted to stand at the top of the skyscraper, hugging George for the rest of eternity, Dream knew their fight here wasn’t done. Tommy was leaned against the wall, rubbing his arm that had been seriously damaged by George’s demon ropes. He didn’t look too hot.
The other three Titans were sort of just standing there as well. Eyes flashed from the three villains in capture to Dream and George to Tommy. As team leader, Dream knew it was his duty to decide what happened next.
“Tommy,” he said, voice gentler than before. Maybe it was because George was in his arms, or maybe it was because he genuinely felt bad for the kid. “You’re coming with us.”
Protests rang out from the other villains, but Dream ignored them.
“I’m not, actually,” Tommy answered. “If you think I want to live with you guys, and that fucking psychopath,” he was looking at George now, but the brunet’s head was still nuzzled into Dream’s chest, “then you’re strongly mistaken.”
Sapnap was next to them now, sending a small smile Dream’s way. “I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice,” he said, just as Karl followed in his wake.
Tommy was glaring at the rest of SBI, as if he was begging them to do something that would help, but they all looked just as speechless as the boy did. He turned to Dream again, “Fuck you, seriously.”
Quackity hooked up Tommy with the same power-quenching handcuffs as Dream took a step forward, George’s magic holding him against the blond’s body. (As much as Dream wanted to ignore everyone else in the world who wasn’t George, he knew he had a job to do. It was his duty to take Tommy in, he knew it.) “Think of it like a trial. You live with us for a little while, and if you like fighting with us, you can become an official Titan. If not, you go back to SBI. Simple.”
“Not. Simple.” Tommy groaned, but his body untensed anyway. “Let’s just get this over with.”
The smile on Dream’s face could be seen from a mile away. With George still in his arms– like a fucking koala bear, may he add– they walked back to the Tower. Tommy was making fun of Quackity in the front, Karl and Sapnap were bantering with each other, and Dream was with George, finally.
His typical day turned out to be not so boring after all.
They were eating pizza.
But now, everything was different.
Dream was sitting on the couch with his friends, and this time, George was beside him. Like, George was basically on top of him. He wasn’t even trying to hide it by floating in the air like he had previously, his whole weight was just, on top of Dream.
Pizza tasted better than ever, and Dream’s entire chest was exploding out of his chest. The only thought on his mind was George, George, George.
They didn’t talk, but it was fine because Dream knew his favorite demon boy was tired as hell. He’d opened way too many portals and possessed Phil and even held the demon ropes on Tommy for a good five minutes. It was a lot; Dream was more than happy to let him rest– especially if that resting took place on his chest.
The brunet’s hood had fallen off at some point, and now, Dream was able to see his pretty brunet locks all tussled up from being underneath the hood for so long. (Did he ever take the hood off? Dream had no idea.) He looked cute, and even though Dream knew he was half-demon, he liked to think George looked like an angel.
When Karl and Sapnap retired to their rooms to watch anime (make out) and Quackity dragged Tommy to his lab to figure out how to manage his goddamn wings, Dream was alone with George. Sleepy George. Cute George.
It was different than the other times. This time, he didn’t know if George would deny him again. This time, he had hope.
But George cut off his inner monologue with a grunt. Dream couldn’t tell if it were a sleep-induced grunt or an awake grunt. But then George’s head was lifting up, and Dream’s chest turned cold again.
“I’m sorry you almost died today,” George said simply. His lips were frowned and his eyes looked exhausted as they met Dream’s own. The blond could tell he didn’t want to talk about the previous battles, but knew he needed to. Dream only hoped it was a good thing.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Dream said easily. He had to hold back from grabbing George’s hand, or running his own through George’s pretty hair. “I’d do it a thousand times over again.”
George shook his head, curls flopping with. “I just– I realized some… stuff when Tommy was about to claw you to death. I didn’t want you to die, and I didn’t know you had that stupid plan schemed up with Quackity. I wanted to teleport you or something, but I had no energy saved up.” He inhaled sharply, face struggling to return neutral. (If Dream squinted his eyes, he could see the slightest bit of care lining George’s face.)
“I didn’t want to lose you.” It came out in one breath, sweeping Dream’s own away with it. “I don’t want to lose you without…”
And when he looked down at Dream’s lips, the blond swore he saw stars. The room was hot, everything was burning up. George’s stare made him feel crazy, but also… God, he wanted to kiss George so badly. But, not without being super fucking annoying about his feelings.
It would ruin the moment, since George hated the gooey mushy stuff and all, but Dream had to say it. He’d been rehearsing the get-together speech in his head for years and didn’t plan on fucking everything up without a proper sappy declaration of love.
“Okay,” he said, sucking in a deep breath because holy shit. “Okay, we’re doing this.” He clapped his hands together like the nerd he was, and said, “If you couldn’t tell, I’ve liked you for an embarrassing amount of time. It was obvious because I asked you out, like, every day, but I don’t know, maybe you’re oblivious or something.” He laughed to himself, but when George remained quiet, he took another breath and continued.
“I didn’t know if my Quackity plan would work either, if I’m being honest. I was terrified of dying. Actually, you were the one thing on my mind when Tommy slashed down. I didn’t want to die until you finally accepted the fact that we were going to fall in love and have super-babies.”
Dream could tell George wanted to interrupt and say something smart ass-y like ‘We can’t have a baby together,’ but he hushed him up with more word vomit. “I want to be with you, even though you’re a demon from hell, and even though you’re so fucking pessimistic all the time.”
George’s eyes were wide as he gravitated closer to Dream, gleaming as he gazed at Dream’s lips again and again.
“So, please,” Dream said, “I really, really want you to–”
He couldn’t finish the go out with me because George’s lips were pressed against his own. George’s lips. Were meeting his in a kiss. They were kissing.
He was frozen in place for a moment– because George was kissing him– but when the brunet began to pull away, he kissed back, trying to engrave the moment in his brain forever. He wanted to have the sensation of George stapled to his lips for the rest of eternity. Surely, it couldn’t get better than that.
With a jolt, he remembered he hadn’t finished his speech. And so, Dream pulled away, smiling as he looked down at George. George, with pretty lips that Dream had just kissed.
“I didn’t finish my declaration.”
George rolled his eyes and tried to go in for another kiss, but Dream slid backward. “I have,” he repeated, “a speech.”
“I could make you kiss me, you know?” George was teasing, but for a second Dream thought he was serious. He saw a purple swirl in his peripheral, and his heart stopped with thoughts of George’s demon activities. But then, the purple flew to his neck and he was being tickled by glowing, feather-light hands.
It was horrible, and weird, but George was laughing, so Dream had to laugh too. But it was too much laughing that he had to swat away the purple hands, and utter a ‘Stop!’ to the brunet. He needed to say his whole speech. There was no time for tickling when his cheesy rom-com climax get-together scene was occurring.
“George,” he said softly, “I really want you to go out with me. Will you go out with me?”
The brunet looked unimpressed as he lifted his hand up. For what, Dream was unsure. He quirked a brow, and then George was huffing, “Do the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The thing,” George sighed, sticking his hand all up in Dream’s face, “where you ask people out and I possess them because I’m jealous.”
A beat. Dream’s brain had exploded, surely, because there was no way he'd just admitted that. All his suspicions were correct, everything he’d hoped for was true. “So you were jealous!” he grinned.
George simply shook his hand Dream’s way again.
Really, Dream was never one to deny George of a request (except, well, them kissing right that very moment. But this was much more important), so he took George’s hands in his own and gave the brunet’s knuckles a kiss.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, “I’m Dream.”
George faked a swooning civilian, muttering ‘ohmygods’ and ‘holyshits.’ So, Dream continued the well-rehearsed lines he always tried with fail, “Would you want to get pizza some time?”
There was a silence, and George looked confused. He shrugged his shoulders, “What happens now?”
Dream squeezed his eyes shut dramatically. “Please don’t possess me.”
George tore his hand away at that. “Idiot,” he mumbled, “I’m not that bad.”
“Well,” said the blond, “you are a demon. To be fair.”
“Only half.”
A sigh. “Only half,” Dream repeated. Then, he was smiling at George again (when did he ever not smile at George?) and asking, “So?”
“I guess,” George said, feigning disconcern. Then, his eyes lit up in mischief, a full-on grin lighting up his face. Gorgeous, was the only word Dream’s brain could manage. “I just have one condition.”
His eyes looked downward again and Dream immediately knew. He smiled and moved closer, closer, closer. Breaths mixed, hands held. This time, when they kissed, it was slow. They had all the time in the world now. They were together and kissing, and Dream was already planning out their first date. (Who was he kidding… he already had their wedding song planned out too, and their baby’s name, and their first cat.) It would be perfect, and domestic, and them.
Dream didn’t care what life threw at him anymore. As long as he had George right there beside him, he knew he would be okay. More than okay, actually. He would be super.