Work Text:
“Are we done now?” George asks after they’ve finished recording a video for Dream’s main and second channel. It was like manhunt, except Dream was running around with a chicken on his head and George had to kill the chicken instead of Dream. Now, though, he’s tired. And hungry. And he feels lazy. “This recording was long,”
“It wasn’t that long, you’re being an idiot. We’ve recorded for much longer in the past,” Dream replies with a soft sigh. George can hear his mouse clicking, and he assumes Dream is ending the recording and saving what he has, “At least you’re not going to be the one editing it.”
George laughs once, a soft smile appearing on his face as he next speaks. “I think I’d die if I had to edit one of your videos,”
“You’d never finish it,”
“Nope,” George concludes, his lips making a popping sound with the p. Dream lets out a louder sigh, clicking around some more in silence - he’s probably saving the video file and closing OBS and doing whatever else he needs to. George is jumping around mindlessly in Minecraft, but he quickly gets bored and leaves the game. He looks to his second monitor where Discord is open and hovers his mouse over the x button. “I’m leaving now.”
“Wait,” Dream calls, voice ever-so-soft, “Come to my office?”
George sighs dramatically, as if it’s such a hassle to see his boyfriend, but there’s a big goofy grin on his face because he can’t ever truly hide how much he loves Dream, “Fine.”
He leaves the call, closes all his tabs for every program he has open, shuts down his computer and stands from his desk. He stretches his arms above his head, twists around from side to side and groans as his bones crack satisfyingly, finally freed from their uncomfortable position.
He leaves his office and strolls over to Dream’s, the door closed but not unlocked. He walks inside and instead of being annoying like he usually would, he just approaches the dirty-blond, who’s still seated at his desk, and wraps his slim arms around him from behind. Dream lets out a little pleased hum, putting one of his large hands on one of George’s arms, and he can’t help but tilt his head back for a kiss. George smiles down at him and gives him what he wants, pecking his lips softly and holding him a little tighter. When Dream looks back at his monitor, George rests his chin atop the other’s messy curls and watches as he opens his editing program and opens the video file.
“Editing already?” George asks quietly. Dream hums once but doesn’t say anything else. George is fine with that of course, even just holding Dream like this is enough normally. But right now George wants attention, and he wants to be even closer to Dream, so he stands upright and pulls the younger man’s chair back.
“George, what are you-”
“Relax, idiot,” The Brit tells him as he moves to sit on one of his lap. Dream doesn’t grunt or groan or even look annoyed - in fact, he looks very pleased. He wraps his arms around George’s waist, squeezing him tight, and then uses his feet to drag his gaming chair back to the desk. He rests his chin on one of George’s shoulders and focusses back on doing what he was doing.
George smiles, leaning into his strong chest until eventually the position is too uncomfortable so he lifts his legs up and properly curls into him with his legs flung over one of the armrests and his back resting against the other. Dream doesn’t seem to mind this either. The two fall quiet for a while, Dream typing away at his keyboard and clicking around with his mouse, and George remaining curled into him like a cat.
“You hungry?” Dream asks after some time has passed. George blinks his eyes open, finding it a little difficult, and that’s when he realises that he had briefly fallen asleep. He nods sleepily, sitting up and wincing a little at the discomfort in his back from being curled up like that for however long.
He sits back up properly and then looks at Dream, who looks right back at him with his pretty yellow eyes - well, green eyes, but George sees them as yellow - and fluffy curls and puppy smile. It warms George up from the tips of his toes to the tips of his ears, making him feel so loved and so in love. He smiles back at the younger man and then silently leans forward, eyes drifting closed as he captures Dream’s soft lips in a gentle kiss. Dream places one of his hands at the back of his head, carefully pulling George closer, and George melts into him more. He kisses him harder, licks at his bottom lip and then slides his tongue into his mouth when Dream allows him too. Dream kisses back, but lets George control what they do, just like he always does. The Brit’s hand finds Dream’s chest, and he doesn’t do anything other than press his palm down right in the middle and gently rub up and down. It’s only when Dream’s fingers tangle in and tug on George’s dark brown hair that George pulls back, lips shiny with saliva and warm with the kiss. Dream’s lips look how George’s feel, and George wonders if Dream feels that same warmth and tingly feeling in his lips too.
“I love you,” Dream whispers softly. George’s cheeks warm, and he flashes Dream a pretty smile, teeth and all.
“I know you do,” George whispers back, because that’s his way of saying I love you too. Dream smiles at him all the same, unhurt by George’s response because he knows what George is trying to say, and that’s good enough for him.
After a few seconds pass, Dream looks back at his monitor, saves his work, exits the editing software and then gently pats George’s hip, as if to tell him to stand up. George does as he’s told, uncurling his legs and standing back up, bones cracking as he stretches once more. He sighs, satisfied, and then looks up at Dream when he stands too. The dirty-blond wraps his strong arms around George’s waist and squeezes him again, tilting his head down to press another soft, but brief kiss to his lips.
“What do you want for late-lunch?” Dream questions him when they pull their lips apart, his voice soft and loving.
“McDonald’s?” George replies, though it comes off as more of a question. He looks at Dream hopefully, which only makes Dream laugh fondly.
“You’re a basic bitch,” He tells the older man as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and opens UberEats. One arm remains wrapped around George while the other hand is occupied with the device.
George wraps both of his arms around Dream’s hips, hugging him tight and nuzzling his head into his broad chest, inhaling the smell of his cologne. “Yeah, but I’m your basic bitch,”
“You’re also cringe,”
“How?”
“That was a cringe thing to say,” Dream tells him, sparing him a glance before looking back at his phone. “I’m your basic bitch.” The Floridian mocks in a high pitched voice. George scoffs and pokes him in the stomach, making Dream flinch and bend slightly.
“Don’t be mean to me or I’ll get grumpy,”
“You aren’t already?”
“Dream.”
“Okayyy, okay,” Dream giggles, kissing the top of his shorter boyfriend’s head, “Our food is on the way.”
The fact that Dream ordered it because he already knew what George wanted makes George’s heart skip a beat. He’s in love, isn’t that so weird and cringe?
Maybe a little. But he likes it. He likes being in love with Dream because being in love with Dream is the best thing in the world. The fact that Dream is equally as in love with George makes it even better.