Work Text:
Dream had been in his office all day and George was beginning to worry. It wasn’t unusual for his boyfriend to spend hours on end working on a project until every single detail was perfect. But he didn’t need to, not anymore. Not when people were going to love it just because it was Dream who made it. Not when George was already in his pyjamas waiting for him in their room, unwilling to go alone to sleep two nights in a row.
He knocked on the door, but there was no answer. It wasn’t surprising because when he walked inside, Dream was so focused on his monitor he didn’t hear him coming. George stood on his tip toes and wrapped his hands around his neck from behind the chair.
“Come to bed with me,” he mumbled, leaning down to kiss the side of Dream’s neck, right above the chain that matched his.
“But I’ve just figured out what to do in this part,” Dream complained. “I need to finish it tonight.”
“Just write it down and continue working on it tomorrow when you are less tired. I’m sure people are going to love it.”
“Really?” Dream sounded so insecure. And George realized he might not have heard those words in a long time.
He nodded. “Really. You always do such a good job. I’m proud of you.”
Dream’s breath hitched beneath George’s arms before he shily asked, “Can you say that again?”
“Oh, baby.” George walked in front of him, and then sat on his lap, making eye contact. “I am so proud of you.”
A tear left Dream’s eyes and George carefully wiped it out with his thumb.
“You work so hard, and you look after your family and your friends. You’re always kind despite all the mean things people say to you.” He gently brushed Dream’s hair aside from his forehead. He could tell his boyfriend was on the verge of tears, but he continued speaking. “I’ve known you for years and no matter what you always give the best part of you. I’m proud of what you have achieved, but most importantly, I’m so fucking proud of you, Clay.”
Dream started crying, his face buried in George’s pyjama shirt as he let everything out. He had told him everything he didn’t know he needed to hear. He wept and sobbed, clinging onto George until his cries turned into sniffles. He looked up at him with red puffy eyes.
“Let’s go to bed?”
Dream nodded, touching the wet spot on George’s shirt.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t even worry about it, love. I am just glad it helped.”