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George can’t sleep. He’s on the top bunk and it’s cramped— something that he expected— but heavy drops of rain hammer against the train window and they’re stopped because of a problem on the tracks somewhere down the line.
It’s almost laughable that they’re already going to be a few hours delayed since they only set off from Chicago about an hour ago. It’s a long journey to San Francisco and he doesn’t think that they’ve even crossed into Iowa yet, not that he can see all that much in a dark train cabin in the middle of the night with only a crack of visible window space.
“Dream,” he whispers into the empty space.
This was all his idea anyway. He wanted one last trip before George graduates university and probably moves back to cold, rainy England like his parents expect him to. It’s the middle of fucking winter and just the two of them since Sapnap had to stay in Texas for his cousin’s wedding and, despite the fact that their tiny little room only sleeps two, he can’t help but wish that he was here too.
Besides the fact that Sapnap is one of his best friends, he’s an excellent buffer. It’s only in the past few months that George has become acutely aware that his feelings for Dream dip beyond platonic— and maybe dip beyond “just feelings” if he was to think too much about it— and he just doesn’t know how he’s meant to act normal anymore. Every innocent brush of their hands these days has his heart beating in his ears and the sight of his pretty pink lips curling up in a smile makes him a little lightheaded.
None of it is Dream’s fault, of course. He never asked for George to fall in love with him. There’s a bit of flirting in their friendship but it doesn’t mean anything, not when they both talk to their other friends in largely the same way. But as much as he tries to play off the flirting and shut out his emotions, George can’t help how he feels.
It just makes this train ride a bit of a predicament. These are probably the closest quarters that he’s shared with anyone and it’s going to be that way for the next 50 hours. He feels like it’s an inevitability that he’s going to somehow let something slip by the time they get to San Francisco.
He’s shaken from his thoughts when Dream replies. “Can’t sleep either?”
George lets out a shaky laugh. “I don’t know if I’m too excited for the trip or if it’s just because these beds are uncomfortable.”
The guilt from lying to him, even on such a small scale, eats away at his stomach lining as he brings up his hand to chew on his thumbnail, wincing when he tastes the bitter polish that Dream had painted on it in an attempt to get him to stop biting them. Is biting his nails really a worse habit than being in love with his best friend?
There’s a shifting sound in the bed below him and, all of a sudden he can just barely make out the glimmer of Dream’s eyes in the dark train car as he stands next to the beds. “We can go sit in the observation car for a while. It’ll probably be empty right now since there isn’t much to see.”
George nods and pushes himself off the top bunk, following Dream out of their cabin and through the train car.
There’s something so radiant about Dream in the middle of the night. His blond curls stick out in every direction and the OU t-shirt that he insists on wearing even though they go to a different school is wrinkled. Still, when he smiles he shines like one of the stars peppered across the inky black night sky.
The observation car, which consists of long windows that span the length of the train car and plush blue chairs that are either part of a static bench or rotate inward and are separated by tiny circular tables, is completely empty when they get there.
Dream sets a water bottle on one of the tables and flops onto one of the benches, pulling George down into the seat directly next to him. The press of their thighs together makes him gulp, especially when they’re both only wearing thin gym shorts. The inch of bare skin by their knees that is pressed together bare feels almost tantalizing.
“Not much of a view right now,” Dream chuckles as he cranes his neck to look up at the sky through the window. “You can’t even see the stars tonight. I don’t know if it’s because it’s too cloudy or if we’re still too close to the city and there’s too much light pollution. Both, maybe.”
“Do you think we’ll see them tomorrow night?” he asks. He doesn’t care much about seeing the real stars tonight when Dream shines brighter in front of him.
“I hope so,” Dream tells him, voice barely above a whisper. “I love seeing the stars. It makes me feel like I’m part of something bigger.”
George peers further out the window, gazing up into the inky black of the sky, and a chill runs down his spine. Stars or not, there’s something about the night sky that terrifies him. The universe is infinite— spanning out in every direction and warping around their planet. George is like a grain of sand in the desert. He’s unimportant in the grand scheme of things, merely something to get trampled on and blow away in the wind. To feel this meaningless is to feel a barren sense of loneliness carving its way through his ribcage. If nothing really matters then why does he persist as he does?
It’s these kinds of thoughts that keep him up at night back in his apartment at school, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars that the previous tenants had left plastered to the ceiling.
Do what you’re supposed to do. Graduate. Move back to England. Get a job programming until your hair goes gray and the frown lines are etched into permanent wrinkles on your face. Marry someone you like well enough and have at least two children to replace you. Toil and toil so the cycle of humanity persists. Never tell anyone how alone you feel.
Not tonight, though. He’s on a train with Dream, slowly rolling their way across the country toward San Francisco.
The trip of a lifetime, he thinks.
“I don’t want to be part of something bigger,” George admits, meeting Dream’s eyes again. He’s been watching him with a curious expression as if he’s been transfixed by watching him think but hesitant to interrupt it. “I just want to be here.”
He doesn’t mean it geographically, not really. He doesn’t even necessarily mean on this train. It’s the moment that he wants to be in. George wants to live in the present because the future is too terrifying to face.
“Then be here,” Dream says with a soft smile and just like that, George’s brain shuts off. He’s always had this insane ability to shut down his thoughts. Really, it’s something that they do to each other. Everyone is prone to spiraling and even though George does it silently, Dream always seems to have this cosmic ability to rip him out of it. He understands his brain in ways that nobody else ever has. In ways that nobody else ever will.
George settles back into his seat and lets his head softly fall onto Dream’s shoulders. Together, they stare at the nothingness outside as the train chugs down the tracks. It shouldn’t be beautiful, but it is.
As he drifts off to sleep, cuddled into Dream’s side as he listens to him talk about football, he can feel the warmth of his heart in his chest.
This is why I love him, George thinks. I love Dream because he breaks me out of my own head.
And in his dreams that night, Dream actually loves him back the way that he’s supposed to. It should make his heart ache in the morning but instead, he chooses for a moment to play pretend and enjoy the sight of barren corn fields covered in a light dusting of frost along the horizon.
Part of their ticket includes meals in the dining car. Since the ride is more than fifty hours even without the delays that have had the train occasionally stopping and starting since they left, it’s nice to be able to have hot cooked meals prepared for them rather than the trail mix that they’d be munching on if they were left to their own devices.
Dream pokes at his plate of eggs curiously, a colorful plate with peppers and onions and cheese scrambled into bright yellow eggs. He eyes it carefully as if he doesn’t really trust food that comes from a train but sinks back into his seat with a smile the moment he sticks the fork in his mouth.
“That’s delicious,” he tells him before scooping up another forkful and holding it out to him. “Do you want to try some?”
George looks between the eggs and his own plate of french toast, covered in strawberries and sugary red syrup. There’s a small spiral of whipped cream on the top that’s already starting to slowly melt into the hot syrup. His sweet tooth aches in the best way possible just by looking at it. He’s always loved a sweet breakfast but maybe he should try something savory. A bite couldn’t hurt, even if Dream is probably only offering it to be polite.
He looks at the forkful of eggs again and for a moment, he imagines Dream feeding it to him, easing the fork past his lips and watching him intently as he licks it clean. There would be an intensity in their gaze, a promise of something more.
Instead, he says “I guess” with a shrug and takes it from him, taking the bite quickly before handing it back to him.
It’s just as delicious as it looks, an explosion of flavor filling his senses from the sweetness of the peppers to the melty cheese. He still wants his french toast but he wants more eggs too.
Dream smiles at him knowingly. “We can split if you want.”
He raises an eyebrow. Dream doesn’t like sweet breakfast. He’s always preferred to start his day with something savory— usually something slightly more healthy to make sure he has the energy to get through the day. They’ve been roommates for long enough for George to know that the food on his plate isn’t something that he’d ever choose for himself so early in the morning.
“You want french toast?” he asks slowly.
Dream shrugs and glances at George’s plate. “It looks good. Plus, if I like it then I know what I should order tomorrow.”
George hesitates for a moment since he’s fairly certain that Dream is lying to him but he eventually nods and pushes his plate to the center of the table. “We can share.”
When they dig in, George tries not to notice how big a show Dream makes of enjoying the french toast or the way that he barely touches it for the rest of the meal. It’s clear that Dream gave up half his breakfast just so George could try something new and he did it with a smile. Just when George didn’t think he could fall any deeper in love.
He recalls the first time that he met Dream’s mum— she’d driven twenty hours to help him move into their first apartment. She had cooked a meal for the three of them and it was one of the best things that he’s eaten to date. She told him that food is love and she wanted to show George and Sapnap how grateful she was that her son had found a home with them.
If she believed food was love, certainly that’s something that she would have imparted to Dream. If food is love, giving George half his breakfast is an act of devotion. He tries not to read too hard into something as simple as sharing a plate of scrambled eggs but he knows who Dream is and he knows that it means something. He just doesn’t know what yet.
After breakfast, they both return to their tiny compartment to nap. Neither of them got as much sleep as they would have liked to last night so they agreed that they might as well try to get a few hours in while the train rumbles down the tracks in western Nebraska. Starting in Colorado, there will be views worth seeing. Right now it’s just empty fields and cattle ranches.
George wakes up first— he has a feeling that he slept a lot more than Dream did last night— and quietly climbs down from his bunk to leave their compartment, taking some time to stretch his legs and walk around the train. It’s noon now, which means their lunch appointment is in about an hour, so he has some time to just appreciate the train.
Even though it’s different in length and layout, being on a train reminds him of London. Sometimes when he closes his eyes for a moment and listens to the sound of it chugging down the tracks, he remembers being a little kid, pointing around the train car and playing I Spy with his sister to pass the time as they made their way down to Brighton for a day at the beach.
He wishes that he could say that being on a train makes him feel at home. He wishes that he could say that London feels like home. University in America was always supposed to be one little adventure before he returned to the place that he’d grown up in to continue the rest of his life. This was a glorified extended vacation. He was always meant to return to England, to the country on his passport and the family that’s been waiting for him to come back.
And he loves London. He really does. The pure enormity of the city is unmatched even by a city as big as Chicago and even if he’s quiet around people he doesn’t know, he’s always liked being surrounded by other people. He loves the London Underground and the hole-in-the-wall restaurants that he’s frequented since he could barely walk. He thinks back fondly to the cinema where he had his first kiss and the nightclub his friends dragged him to on the day he turned 18.
He misses it too, in some ways. He misses his family, who he only really sees during the holidays and summer. Less of the holidays this year, seeing as he flew back early to go on this trip with Dream. He misses his old friends too, even though he doesn’t think that he was ever as close with most of them as he is with his friends here. There are people in London that he loves even more than he loves the city. Shouldn’t he want to go back to them?
Home isn’t America either— not technically. When he pictures the rest of his life, he doesn’t really picture it in any one place. Because home isn’t a place to him, it’s Sapnap and Dream.
To George, home is playing Minecraft until six in the morning even though he has to go to class in a few hours. It’s Sapnap getting so drunk that he throws up in the kitchen sink on George’s birthday. Home is the curve of Dream’s smile and his hand lightly brushing against George’s back to comfort him as he burns his second batch of pancakes this week. Home is the people that he wishes he could spend the rest of his life with.
The prospect of having to move on without them is fucking terrifying. He thinks that it’s a little unfair that he has to graduate a year before them, even though he started a year earlier too. For what isn’t the first time, he considers intentionally flunking all his classes this semester so he can stay in uni just a little bit longer. Because while he technically could stay in America, it’s much harder to get a job when you need your employer to sponsor a work visa and it feels wrong to stay in his old apartment when he’s meant to be starting the rest of his life. If he’s still living with Dream and Sapnap, he’ll still be entrenched in the university life that he’s supposed to be moving on from.
But, god, the thought of moving on from Dream and Sapnap makes him sick to his stomach. They’re the best friends that he’s ever fucking had and he’s in love with Dream. He’s supposed to give that up and for what? To do the things that are expected of him?
George feels stuck. Ever since his senior year began, he’s felt the weight of his impending graduation looming over him. Now that his final semester is starting in a little over a week, that weight feels like it’s heavier than ever. This is the time during which he’s supposed to decide what the fuck he’s going to do with the rest of his life but he can’t even decide where he wants to live in four months.
He reaches the end of the train and takes a moment to steady himself— breathing deeply and stretching his hands for a moment before turning back around. He can be here for a bit. George can enjoy the train and his trip with Dream. After all, the journey to San Francisco is meant to be part of the excitement of it. They paid good money for long-distance train tickets on purpose. He’s on vacation now. Nothing else matters.
Except, the moment he sees Dream again, he’s acutely aware that in some ways, it does matter. It’ll always matter. All he can do is try to ignore it so that he doesn’t ruin the trip for both of them.
They stop in Denver just before dinner time. It’s only a thirty-minute stop— no time to actually explore the city— but Dream and George run to McDonald’s to get milkshakes with the time that they do have since there’s one only two minutes from the train station.
Dream forgets his wallet on the train and refuses to let George pay for his, so they end up sharing. It’s two straws in one shake. Even though it’s a cheap vanilla milkshake in a fucking McDonald’s it feels suspiciously datelike. He kind of wants to make a joke about it, but he’s terrified that acknowledging it will break the spell.
While they drink their shake, Dream explains everything that lies ahead of them. He talks about how they’re taking a quick stop in Salt Lake City and passing through two mountain ranges on their way to San Francisco with an excited smile. Dream loves traveling and he hates planes. This is pretty much his perfect trip.
He also tells George about San Francisco itself. Even though George has lived in America for three-and-a-half years now, he’s still not all that familiar with it beyond where he lives and what Dream and Sapnap have told him about Orlando and Houston respectively. It’s interesting to listen to Dream tell him all about San Francisco, a city that he only really knows for Alcatraz and the Golden Gate Bridge.
George listens intently as Dream rambles on and on about geography and history, recounting things that he probably learned about on Wikipedia in the process of planning this trip. He seems genuinely excited about all the things that he’s planned for them to do and that excitement is contagious. George feels giddy for the rest of the trip just by listening to him, his insecurities from earlier drifting to the very back of his mind.
They end up talking for so long that they have to sprint back to the station to catch the train on time, hopping into the car just as the conductor is calling for final boarding.
When they collapse into their seats, George giggles despite being completely out of breath.
“We almost got trapped in Denver,” he tells Dream. “Your wallet was going to have to enjoy San Francisco without us.”
Dream laughs. “Something tells me that my wallet won’t be enjoying San Francisco regardless. I mean, you saw how much your half of the hotel room cost.”
He nods and settles back in his seat, taking a moment to just look at Dream and appreciate his features. His curls are pushed under a colorful cat-like beanie right now, his ears peeking out despite the biting cold outside. Dream’s lips look chapped— probably because it’s so dry here in Denver, and he swipes his tongue over them in lieu of the chapstick that neither of them thought to pack. Even though it’s winter, freckles dance across his cheeks. George wishes that he could press tender kisses to each and every one of him.
“I’m happy to be here with you,” George tells him honestly. “I’m happy that we get to share this journey.”
And even if Dream doesn’t know it, he’s not just referring to the train. University is a little like a journey too— it’s the intermediate between his childhood and his adult life. He’s loved the past four years more than the rest of his life combined and that’s mostly because of the people he’s gotten to spend it with. Maybe it seems like the road ahead might be a bit rocky, what with graduation and jobs and moving on the horizon, but he has Dream here with him now. It’s going to be okay.
“I’m happy too,” Dream replies, reaching over and gently taking his hand in his own. “I’m happy it’s you.”
George’s breath hitches in his throat for a moment and his eyes flicker up to meet Dream’s heavy gaze. It feels significant, even if it’s just held hands in a cramped train car and for a moment he thinks that Dream is about to kiss him but then a voice echoes over the intercom calling his group to the dining car.
The spell is broken and Dream drops his hand, reaching back to scratch the back of his neck. George wants to ask him if it means something, but he’s already pushing out of his seat and heading toward the dining car. The last thing George wants is an awkward dinner, though it’s starting to look like he’s going to get that either way.
George makes use of the complimentary glass of wine that he’s offered with his meal and takes Dream’s free glass as well. It makes him feel a little light and bubbly, which he kind of needs if it means that he won’t spend his entire evening overthinking the small moment that they’d had earlier.
They return to the observation car after dinner so they have a little more space to stretch out and, when they get there, it’s pretty much empty. Since it’s the middle of winter, it’s already pitch black out even though it’s barely past six. It’s a real shame— he’s pretty sure that they’re cutting through the Rocky Mountains right now and he had hoped to be able to see it. Unfortunately, the delays from last night pushed this leg of the journey into darkness.
But Dream smiles as he crowds close to the window and points up at the sky. “Look, George.”
He inches forward and glances upward. A thousand tiny stars glimmer across the night sky. Looking at them now, he understands what Dream had told him the night before. With the beauty of the universe glimmering above, it is easy to feel like a part of something.
George comes to realize that the same thing that Dream loves about it is actually the same thing that he fears. Being a part of something feels like a lot of pressure. It doesn’t feel like he gets to just be George.
Glancing back at Dream again, George's breath catches in his throat and he forgets about all that. Dream’s face is nearly pressed to the window and he’s smiling so wide that George can see almost all his teeth. The wonder shimmering in his eyes is almost childlike.
George thinks that he loves the stars now that he’s seen them reflected in Dream’s eyes. Maybe the universe is really about love. Maybe it’s about the beautiful things that you can’t quite touch but appreciate anyway. Maybe the stars are just like everything that he feels for Dream. Infinite and impossible to truly comprehend, to touch with human hands.
But when he looks at Dream, he wants to reach out anyway.
Most of their daylight the next day is spent weaving through Utah. George kind of expected it to be boring— deserts aren’t exactly known for their excitement— but he thinks that it’s sort of beautiful. As far as his eyes can see, there’s sand and sagebrush, with the occasional hill dotting the horizon.
Being from London, George hasn’t seen anything like it. Almost his entire life has been spent in cities and, when he did escape to the countryside, he was met with that verdant green that comes from long rainy seasons.
George has never considered himself to be particularly outdoorsy— there was never really any reason to be— but now he wishes that he was. He wants to see more sights like this, to climb mountains and look down at the scenery below.
“I wish we drove,” he admits to Dream from where he’s settled in the viewing car, resting his head half on his chest.
Dream lets out a laugh and George can feel the vibration of it buzzing behind his neck. “You mean that you wish that I drove.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yes. I wish that you drove.”
His gaze flickers down to him and he frowns. “I thought that you liked the train. I mean, I’ve been having a good time.”
“I do,” he assures him, sitting up and setting a hand on his shoulder. “I only wish that we had more of a chance to explore. It’s so pretty out here and we’re just kind of rushing past it. I mean, we missed the mountains entirely.”
He hums for a second, considering it. “Well, we still have the Sierra Nevadas to pass through tomorrow. So you won’t be completely deprived of mountains.”
It should reassure him, but George still yearns for more. He wants to cast away the shield of glass for a few moments and see the mountains without any obstruction. More than anything, George wants to breathe the crisp mountain air and drag his fingers through the light blankets of snow coating the peaks. If this train ride is about appreciating the journey, he feels like he’s wasting it by not stepping outside.
Besides, he knows Dream well enough to know that he craves the same thing. The train was a convenient means of getting to San Francisco— it’s a lot quicker and less stressful for him than driving, it’s a pretty unique experience, and they do get to catch some glimpses of the landscape as they rush by. But Dream is the type of person who craves more than that too. Dream’s love for traveling has long been tempered by the lack of time to do so. George knows that Dream wants to see the world— wants to hold it in his hands— and this trip is his way of sharing that desire for adventure with George. It’s like he’s gently placing a piece of his heart in George’s palms, but even that is limited by the constraints of the train.
If George was a millionaire, he would pay to have his own train rush down the tracks. Then they could have this awesome, unique experience that he’s enjoyed so much but still have a chance to stop wherever they want for as long as they want. If George had the money for it, he would give Dream the world. That’s what he’s given him, after all.
A train announcement blares overhead as the train screeches to a halt. There’s a delay— snow somewhere down the tracks that has the preceding train stopped. They’re going to spend the next two hours stuck here in the desert.
Dream laughs again, letting his head roll back onto his headrest. “It’s like the universe fucking heard you.”
“Huh?”
He stands up and reaches his hand out toward George. “The train stopped for you, George. Let’s see the desert.”
With a smile, he takes his hand. They step off the train with most of the other passengers; everyone seems to want to stretch their legs while they’re stopped.
And they can’t wander very far— they’re in the middle of the fucking desert— but they get to enjoy the view without the barrier of the glass and run their hands through the sand.
Dream leans down and presses his index finger into the sand, carving out letters that are so faint that he can barely see them. Dream and George were here :)
Even though he knows that it’ll blow away as soon as the train takes off again, if not even earlier, it puts a smile on his face. They are here: in the middle of nowhere in Utah. And they’re here together. That’s what really matters.
George leans down and writes another sentence: Get muffined, Sapnap!
As Dream takes the picture, he can’t stop laughing.
A two-hour delay quickly spirals into four hours, half of which George spends napping back in their cabin. They eat lunch and then finally continue on their way and while he was once thankful for their impromptu stop, now he’s kind of disappointed.
He doesn’t think it’s hit Dream yet, but their journey has been pushed back so far that they’re going to miss the Sierra Nevadas in the exact same way that they missed the Rocky Mountains. The train is going to chug through mountain passes when it’s too dark to see anything. Not only will they be unable to breathe in that fresh mountain air, but they aren’t even going to be able to see them.
This is just the ride to San Francisco. That’s their destination, their real vacation, but George feels fucking crushed nonetheless. His three-course dinner doesn’t taste as flavorful as it did the night before when he knows what he’s going to be missing out on while he’s sleeping tonight.
His mood is bringing down Dream’s too, which he feels a little guilty about. George knows that being quiet and distant probably gives off the impression that he’s not enjoying the trip even though that isn’t exactly the case, but he doesn’t think that he can clarify that without pushing his disappointment onto Dream. He knows that Dream puts the success of this trip on his own shoulders since he was the one to plan it and him being upset might make it seem like a failure, but he hopes that his good spirits later in their vacation will wipe this one difficult part away.
He goes to bed early that night, not having enough energy to chat the night away in the observation car tonight, and tries not to be disappointed by the fact that Dream heads in that direction anyway. Even if he doesn’t want his disappointment to ruin Dream’s experience on the train, a selfish part of him still wishes that they could spend every minute of it together.
When he wakes back up, it’s to big hands gently pushing at his shoulder.
“George,” Dream says, barely above a whisper. “Get up. We’re getting off the train in ten minutes.”
He scrunches up his nose as Dream flicks on the lights in their train car. Unless he’s slept like twelve hours total, there should be more time before they get to San Francisco. From the light ache behind his eyes, he would hazard to guess that it’s still the middle of the night.
“We’re h’re?” he mumbles, pushing himself out of bed anyway.
“Reno,” Dream corrects, pushing his suitcase into his hand. “I already called ahead and booked us a hotel room for the night.”
He raises an eyebrow. It’s definitely too late to spend the night gambling, so he has no idea why they’d stop here. “I don’t get it.”
Dream bites his lower lip and takes a moment to meet George’s eyes. “I promised you mountains, George. I’m not going to let you miss them. I’ll rent a car tomorrow morning and then we can drive the rest of the way to San Francisco.”
George’s heart beats so hard that he’s terrified Dream might be able to hear it. George doesn’t think he’s ever been any more in love with him. He doesn’t think that anyone has ever been as in love as he is right now. Dream couldn’t physically move mountains for George so instead, he moved everything around so he could bring him to them.
I love you, he almost says but there’s no time. Dream is hastily helping him pack up the last of his things and then they’re rushing towards the doors. They hop off the train as soon as it stops and take in the glimmering lights of Reno, Nevada.
The car rental place doesn’t open until the morning, so they catch an Uber to the hotel that Dream booked. Apparently, he’d had to call about five different places to find an open room and was willing to deal with a pricier hotel if it meant that they could drive the rest of the way in the morning.
As they walk through the lobby after checking in, George offers to pay him back for his half and Dream refuses.
“This was my idea. I can pay for it,” he tells him, ignoring the fact that he was doing it all for George anyway.
“Only if you’re sure,” he replies. It’s a lot of money and after this trip, he doesn’t exactly have a ton to spare, but it’s still a lot to ask of him. Of course, it’s a struggle to argue when Dream offers up something freely. Even if George isn’t the type of person who usually likes to receive gifts, he doesn’t mind it as much when it’s coming from Dream because he knows that he loves giving them.
The hotel is nice but their room is pretty small: just a queen-sized bed and a cramped bathroom. George would say something about having to share a bed— or at least have a minor crisis about it— but the truth is that he’s too tired for that right now. It’s the middle of the night and they’re getting up pretty early in the morning tomorrow.
Besides, he can’t think of a better place to fall asleep than at Dream’s side.
George sets his suitcase down in the corner of the room next to the TV and starts to make his way toward the bed but is interrupted by Dream’s bubbly laugh across the room.
“George, you have got to look at this.” Dream points out the window but George can’t quite make it out from across the room.
He walks over and peers through the glass, eyes widening when he sees a building across the street lit up in bright green lights that make the windows look blue. It looks like stripes of blue and green and it makes George laugh too. Of course, the building would have blue and green lights— an unintentional reference to their favorite colors and an inside joke that they’ve had since the week that they met. Of course, they’d see it during a trip that’s just the two of them, where they’re sharing a bed and George is trying to swallow down his feelings for Dream. It’s fucking cosmic.
“Do you believe in fate, George?” Dream laughs, nodding toward the building once more. “Because at this point, I think I’m convinced.”
“Usually, I believe we make our own fate.” George shakes his head in disbelief and turns to look at Dream. Some of that blue and green is reflected on the pale skin of his face. “But maybe the stars do have a little bit of say.”
Dream pauses for a second to think, even though he’d clearly initially asked the question as a joke. “I think it’s a combination of the two. Like we did make our own fate. You told me you wanted to see the mountains so I booked us this hotel room. But it’s still a coincidence that there happens to be a blue and green building across the street. I don’t know if it’s fate, but it’s definitely a sign.”
“A sign?”
When Dream meets his eyes, reflected in the city lights, his gaze is intense. He looks like George like he can see into his soul and it makes his heart flutter. Nobody looks at him the way Dream does. There’s something serious about it— the type of serious that scares George just because of how real it feels— and he doesn’t know how to deal with it. On one hand, he’s desperate to look away and push his feelings back for another day. On the other hand, he never wants this moment to end.
“You know that you can stay, right?” Dream says instead of answering his question.
George furrows his eyebrows, unsure of where this is even coming from. In the hotel? Wasn’t that the point?
“After graduation,” Dream clarifies. “Get a job somewhere near us and keep living in the apartment. Me and Sap have already talked about it. We really want you to stay. I want you to stay.”
He shakes his head. “But after graduation, I’m meant to move on. What will people-”
“George, anyone who seriously objects to you living with your friends after you graduate isn’t fucking worth thinking about. The three of us are a team. We’re meant to stick together. So stay with me, and we can figure the rest out later.”
For a moment, George looks out toward the street and just thinks about it. His life wouldn’t really be much different. Instead of classes and homework, he’d just go to work every day. It would be like the past few years except with more financial stability. The thought of it always seemed too good to be true. He gets caught up on Dream’s wording. He said, “we can figure the rest out.” Not “you.” This is something that they can do together. Whatever he does, Dream and Sapnap are going to have his back. Maybe growing up doesn’t actually have to mean growing apart.
“I’ll stay,” he promises him, nodding as he meets his eyes again. “We’ll sort it out together.”
Dream smiles and then pauses for a moment as if he has something else to say. For those few seconds, the silence hangs heavy in the air.
“We should probably go to bed,” George sputters out to break it. “I mean, we have an early morning tomorrow.”
“Right,” Dream says slowly before breaking from his chance. “Right! We’re gonna see the mountains. It’s gonna be awesome, George.”
He forces a smile as he climbs into the bed. He’s still kind of confused about this whole situation with Dream despite his relief about staying in the apartment after the semester ends. He’s pretty sure that Dream likes him back at this point but it still terrifies him. George might be unimportant in the vastness of the universe but Dream makes him feel a little like he’s the brightest star in the sky. He’s not used to that kind of attention.
Thankfully, he’s still pretty exhausted and sleep finds him easily. His dreams are filled with stars, desert, and blue and green lights flashing against a city skyline.
When he wakes up in the morning, Dream’s arm has snaked its way around his waist. Instead of pushing away, he lets himself relax back into it. Why shouldn’t he enjoy this when he’s pretty sure that Dream is enjoying it too? If Dream pushes him away later, then that’s fine.
Of course, Dream doesn’t push him away. He just lightly rubs his arm and tells him it’s time for breakfast. George never knew that he’d crave this kind of domesticity.
The morning goes surprisingly smoothly. Breakfast at the hotel is easy, it doesn’t take long to rent a car, and traffic isn’t all that bad. It’s not long before they’re rolling through snow-capped mountains on their way to San Francisco.
George thinks that the Sierra Nevadas might just be the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his life. Gray rock juts out between valleys filled with pine trees and soft-looking snow falls across their summits. It’s the beauty of the Earth as far as the eye can see and George thinks that he would stay here forever if he could.
Eventually, Dream pulls off the road, stopping at an overlook, and motions for George to get out of the car.
They head toward the rusted ramp that walls them off from the edge of the cliff and just look over it at the valley below.
It’s a beautiful moment, from the gorgeous view to the fresh scent of pine drifting through the clean air to the light breeze nipping at his cheeks. The valley looks almost like a painting— two giant mountains jut out on either side of it with a vast forest lining the land in between. In the middle of the forest, there’s a small lake that’s this icy turquoise color. He doesn’t know if he’s even seen water that looks so clean and he’s grateful that it’s surprisingly warm for January just because it means that he gets to see it when it’s not frozen over.
He turns to look at Dream, wanting to see his reaction to the view in front of them, but when he looks up, Dream is already looking at him with all the adoration in the world. And then it really clicks for him. There’s no question in his mind anymore. All the love that he feels for Dream, he feels it too.
“I love you,” he tells him quietly because he’s sick of pretending like he doesn’t.
There isn’t any shock in Dream’s expression, just a soft smile. “I love you too, George.”
He freezes for a moment. Dream doesn’t understand and he doesn’t blame him. It’s rare for George to show affection, but Dream uses the word “love” often. Because he loves Sapnap too, even if they’re just friends. But when George says it now, he means it in a different way.
“No,” he replies, balling up his fist in frustration. “You don’t get it. I love you, Dream. I love cities because no matter how many people there are, I can always find you. I love the desert because even in the nothingness, we wrote our names in the sand. I love the mountains because of everything you did to bring me here. I even love the stars now, just because I see them every time I look into your eyes. When I say I love you, Dream, I mean it.”
For a split second, Dream stares at him with parted lips and wide eyes but before George can lament his moment of honesty, Dream’s hands are on his cheeks and he’s pulling him in for a kiss.
George lets his eyes flutter shut as he leans into it. If the view was a painting, this is a fucking masterpiece. The two of them are meeting in the middle like that lake between the mountains, love swirling between their connected lips. He doesn’t know how it took them traveling halfway across the country to get here, but now that they’re finally kissing none of the lead-up really matters anymore.
When they part, Dream presses another kiss to his cheek. “I love you too, George. More than the stars or the mountains or anything else.”
George steps forward and wraps his arms around him, leaning into his embrace. In a few moments, they’re going to have to get in the car and continue their journey to San Francisco but for now, they can just enjoy the comfort of each other’s arms. The journey really was a vital part of the trip.
It only takes them a few more hours to drive into San Francisco, a city with a strange sense of beauty despite the wispy gray skies. The sight of tall buildings climbing into the sky in the distance is a familiar sight even if he’s never been here before. The shimmering blue bay is something new, and he’s a bit obsessed with the sight of it. He’s never seen the Pacific Ocean before and even if he typically likes to argue in favor of the Atlantic since it’s the ocean that he knows much better, he has to admit it’s a pretty gorgeous sight. Maybe they could return here in the summer when it’s warm enough to swim.
After Dream pays a toll, they drive their way over the Golden Gate Bridge which is surprisingly not golden but instead a deep orange color. He voices his disappointment to Dream, who squeezes his hand and launches into a history lesson about the origins of the bridge’s name, one of the many Wikipedia facts that he must have looked up beforehand.
He lets the words drift past his ears as he stares at Dream at the moment, who is deep in thought between this explanation and his driving. George loves him. He’s happy that it doesn’t have to be a secret anymore.
And then as quickly as they got on the bridge, they’re off it again, headed to park nearby so that they can take in the first in Dream’s long list of tourist attractions that he wants to see in the week that they’re spending here. Their three-day journey has come to a close and now the sightseeing part of their vacation is finally beginning.
As much as George loved the journey to get here, this is like a new beginning. It’s a new chapter— a new era— and there’s nobody else besides Dream that he would rather share it with.