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It was cold and windy, the air in the tent only somewhat warmer than the subzero temperatures beyond the thin nylon. Wind lapped at the tent, its fragile walls threatening to cave in. Dream, sleepless and borderline frozen alive, slowly withdrew a hand from his self-made cocoon to brace the tent wall. He held it there until the wind ceased then sharply pulled his hand back into the warmth of his sleeping bag.
Dream resumed his shivering, offering an occasional pitiful cough to break the near total silence. Everybody else around him seemed to be asleep, completely unaware of the blustering wind that had almost knocked the tent down. The sound of the gusts alone were almost deafening, the harsh rippling of the tent walls only amplifying the outside noises. Dream shivered again, bringing his shoulders to his ears in an attempt to help block out some of the noise.
His body felt heavy, exhaustion and malaise consuming him yet not letting him sleep. Dream’s entire body ached; there was nothing that didn’t hurt. The cold wasn’t helping, either. The frigid and dry air made his lungs hurt, and it was starting to give him a headache - stronger than the one he had initially before his arrival to Antarctica.
Another gust of wind swirled by the tent, sending a shiver up Dream’s spine and sending an involuntary whine through his lips. He screwed his eyes shut, drawing his knees close to his chest. He pulled his hands close, wrapping them around his respective biceps after pulling his beanie as far down as he could manage.
He felt a cough brewing in his chest, wincing as he was powerless to stop it from ripping through him. He stifled it with his hands, hoping that he wouldn’t wake any of his tent-mates. Dream’s whole body shook, the hacking using every last drop of energy he had. Once the coughing fit began to subside, he felt tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.
This sucked . He hated this. Why did he have to be sick in Antarctica? Why did he even come to Antarctica? His entire designated section of the tent was stuffed with random pill bottles, his actual clothes and things only taking up a fraction of his space. Dream felt too shitty to participate fully but felt guilty for standing on the sidelines, so he ended up overexerting himself more often than not.
Antarctica was a once-in-a-lifetime kind of trip, so Dream wanted to make the most of it. He’d been sicker before and he survived, so he knew he would survive again; That didn't make him feel better in the current moment, though. In the current moment, he wished the cold would just kill him already so he wouldn’t have to feel so shitty anymore.
Sleep was clearly not in the cards for him no matter what he did. His multitude of medications were on a tightly regulated schedule so as to help him recover as quickly as possible, meaning there was nothing to be done until the morning. All Dream could do was sit and wait, hoping his body would tire itself out as he - hopefully - shivered and coughed himself to sleep.
Dream froze upon hearing shuffling, the sound coming from immediately behind him. It ceased for a moment before picking back up. Teeth clattered, a few profanities were uttered, and the rustling paused again.
“Holy shit,” It was George. His whisper was barely audible over the wind that had come back, threatening to blow the tent away. Dream heard the latter’s teeth forcefully chattering against each other as George shuffled again. “It’s freezing.”
A cough forced its way out of Dream’s lips, wracking his body again as he turned over on his back. George’s look of discomfort from the cold shifted, and he was sitting up hovering over Dream’s face in seconds. His eyebrows were pulled down, his face twisted with concern as his eyes scanned Dream who lay below him.
“Dream? Are you awake? Are you okay?” George whispered, a cautious hand floating over Dream’s shoulder. Unable to speak through the incessant coughing, all the latter could do was shake his head.
“Cold,” Dream offered as his coughing finally ceased. “I’m cold.”
“It’s fucking freezing,” George agreed, his teeth chattering again. “Even with all these layers.”
“Yeah,” Dream murmured, turning his head to face George. “I can’t sleep.”
“I’m cold and I don’t feel good,” Dream whined, tears springing back into his eyes. “I feel like shit.”
“I’m sorry,” George offered, hesitantly letting his hand land on Dream’s shoulder. When Dream didn’t flinch, George began to rub the former’s shoulder with small movements. “It’s almost over.”
“I just wanna sleep,” Dream groaned, pouting almost like a child would. “I haven’t slept more than a few hours in the past week.”
“My whole body hurts, I keep coughing, and it’s way too cold,” Dream whimpered. George nodded knowingly, giving Dream’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”
“Do you want me to come a little closer?” George offered after a beat of silence. “To help keep you warm?”
“But,” Dream managed, swallowing. “What if I get you sick?”
“Don't worry about that,” George insisted, shaking his head. “My immune system isn't nearly as shitty as yours.”
“Wow,” Dream scoffed, fighting a laugh only because it would launch another never-ending coughing fit.
“Seriously though, even if I do get sick I'll get over it,” George finished, his voice softening a bit. “I really don't mind.”
Dream thought for a moment, swallowing his eagerness. He nodded, and George nodded back.
George waited until Dream lay back down to start shuffling closer. George moved closer until his stomach was touching Dream’s back, his breath cascading down the latter’s neck. Warmth began to creep up Dream’s back, and he found himself pressing into it. George didn’t comment - in fact, he was doing the same.
“Wait,” George whispered suddenly, the sound directly behind Dream’s ear. “Turn around.”
“Why?” Dream replied, raising an eyebrow even though George couldn’t see it.
“Just trust me, idiot,” George replied, nudging Dream’s back with what felt like an elbow through the thick sleeping bag. “C’mon.”
Dream mentally shrugged and turned around, his and George’s face just an inch or two apart. George had spotted a spare blanket that had been bunched up by his feet and pulled it over both of their sleeping bags. It didn’t add much warmth, but it was better than nothing.
George made a small opening in his sleeping bag, hesitating briefly before urging Dream closer. George sat with his arms as open as he could get them without exposing too much to the cold, raising his eyebrows slightly in a wordless invitation. Dream reluctantly accepted, frowning when the smallest gap between his own sleeping bag and the atmosphere of the tent brought a gust of cold.
George slowly wrapped his arms around Dream’s middle, carefully pulling the latter closer to his chest. Dream eventually let his head rest there and George let his hands tentatively sit on Dream’s back. Although George was much smaller than Dream, his presence and his hold were comforting.
They both lay still, bordering on completely motionless. Dream hoped that George couldn’t hear how fast his heart was racing, his cheeks growing hot at the sound of it roaring in his ears. It was helping to warm him up a tiny bit, though, so that was a plus.
“Is this okay?” George murmured, his voice small and unsure. Dream hummed an affirmative, smiling softly as he felt his body slowly begin to defrost.
“Yeah,” Dream muttered. “This actually feels… kinda nice.”
“Good,” George whispered, swallowing. Dream felt the former’s fingers dance across his back, squirrely as they searched for a spot to settle. George let one hand settle on Dream’s shoulder blade, with his other arm going through the gap of Dream’s neck and his pillow. George’s other hand lay straight out, his fingers carefully brushing the edges of Dream’s curls.
“Is this helping at all?” George murmured into Dream’s ear after a moment. Feeling some life start to come back to him from their combined body heat, Dream hummed a drowsy mm-hmm. George chuckled, gently rubbing Dream’s shoulder for half a second before stopping.
“Thank you,” Dream slurred, feeling his eyelids finally start to sink shut. Now that he wasn’t moments away from freezing alive, the exhaustion from being ill and from being more cold than he could fathom was all starting to hit him. “I feel warmer now.”
“Good,” George whispered again, more confident this time. Dream felt the former’s body fully relax beneath him, and so Dream let himself soften completely as sleep crept closer. He felt himself beginning to drift in and out of consciousness, his body heavy with fatigue. “Me too.”
“Get some sleep, Dream,” George murmured, the younger being pulled briefly back to consciousness at the sound of his name. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Promise?” Dream managed through a yawn, a slight smirk tugging at his lips when George chuckled lightly in his ear.
“Yes, I promise,” George replied, gently twirling a piece of Dream’s hair with his index finger. “I’ll be right here.”
“M'kay,” Dream exhaled, the full weight of his body sinking onto George below him. George didn’t complain, and continued gently playing with his hair. “G’night, George.”
“Goodnight, Dream,” George whispered back. “See you in the morning.”
The last thing Dream could feel before finally giving in to sleep was George softly playing with his hair and gently rubbing his back with gentle strokes. George fell asleep shortly after, warm and content for the first time since their arrival.
The two slept through the night without moving away from each other. Their limbs remained tangled together, their soft exhales taking turns brushing against the other’s face. The cocoon of blankets and sleeping bags that the two of them created was almost impenetrable, walling off the cold and protecting them until they both had no choice but to emerge in the morning.
~ ~ ~
When Dream finally woke the next morning, he felt the most well-rested he had felt in a while. George was still asleep beneath him, eyelashes fluttering as he dreamed with his lips slightly parted. Soft puffs of air hit Dream’s face, and he smiled at the sensation.
As much as he wanted to stay exactly where he was until the end of time, he really had to pee. He internally groaned, squeezing his eyes shut to take in just a few more seconds of bliss before mentally preparing himself to move.
Dream slowly sat up, feeling a bit unsettled upon noticing that the tent was empty aside for him and George. Everybody else had left, their sleeping bags left open and half crumpled. Dream rubbed his eyes, his jaw unhinging in the beginnings of a yawn as he tapped his phone to check the time. It was half-past 10 in the morning.
When Dream emerged from the tent to grab the necessary bathroom supplies, he was met with a giggling Karl and Sapnap raising an eyebrow at him. Before Dream could even say anything, Sapnap shoved his phone in the former’s face. Dream squinted, blocking the sun with his hand to get a better look at the screen.
It was a picture of him and George cuddling with each other. As cute as the picture was, Dream felt himself grow hot in embarrassment.
“Well?” Sapnap chuckled good-naturedly, raising his eyebrows. “Mind filling me in?”
“We were cold,” Dream casually threw over his shoulder, starting to walk away with a bottle in hand.
Sapnap and Karl exploded into surprised laughter, managing an occasional “No way!” through gasps and wheezes.
Despite his heart hammering in his chest, Dream couldn’t fight back a smirk as Sapnap and Karl’s laughter faded out behind him.