Work Text:
George sighs, staring at his reflection in the lake.
Leaning over the edge of the boat, his fishing rod long forgotten at his feet, with Patches napping peacefully in his lap. He waves his hand, opening his inventory to look at the clock, watching the sun dip down into the mechanism.
It’s getting late and no one has come home yet. Sapnap ran off into the nether portal that morning, something about doing training for MCC with Punz before disappearing into the purple light.
Dream had gone out earlier that day as well, pressing a kiss to his forehead before disappearing into the forest. George frowns at that because the blond has been going out all day for the past few days, leaving early and coming home late.
He sits up which stirs Patches off his lap and onto the other end of his boat. “Sorry, Patchy.” He leans forward to scratch under her chin. “We should be getting home now.”
By the time George rows the boat back to the shore, the sky has gotten considerably darker. He leans down to pick up Patches, who cuddles up to his arm as he walks down the lit wooden path back to their home.
The three of them aren’t the best architects around, but their little strewn-together cobblestone, brick, and wooden house has become cozy enough to be their home. Sure, it’s a little too square and maybe not all the block choices match up, but it gives the place character as Dream likes to call it.
George strolls into the empty house, tapping the stone button on the wall triggering the redstone lamps in the ceiling. A very nice and much-needed upgrade from having to constantly light torches or be forced to have lights on at all times with glowstone.
Patches leaps out of his arms and scampers down the stairs into his and Dream’s room. He knows Sapnap won’t be back for a few nights because he was squeezing in as much time and practice as he could before the tournament. He settles for grabbing a book off the shelf and sitting outside as he waits for Dream.
The book doesn’t do much to help pass the time because the book is already long forgotten on his lap, while he fiddles with the chain around his neck, specifically Dream’s chain.
Where the fuck was Dream?
Did the pillagers in the distance get to him? Despite the fact the three of them triple-checked the tower was clear. Did the idiot get lost in the forest? Even though he was the one to scale the surrounding area when they moved here and drew out maps for all of them. Or even worse, George thinks, gripping the book tightly, did some bitch at the local village find Dream and stop him to try and chat him up? Clearly, the blonde is taken and has a boyfriend.
Before George does something irrational like burn down a village and ruin their trading opportunities, a speck of lime green emerges from the trees. George squints, not finding some stupid villager hanging off Dream before he realizes how sluggish his boyfriend looks.
The book drops to the floor as George rushes down the path to Dream, finally gazing upon the tears in his sweater, the bloody scrapes all over his body, and the scuff marks on his white mask.
George’s head pounds as he runs to support Dream on his side, tugging his arm over his shoulder, “Dream, what the actual fuck happened to you?”
Dream pulls the mask off, resting it on the side of his fade, and smiles, of course, he does, down at him as if there isn’t blood dripping down his temple. “Well, hello to you, too, baby.”
George would’ve punched him if he weren’t so injured, “Now’s not the time for jokes, idiot.” He grits his teeth.
“Yeah, sorry.” He winces, both in pain and the brunette’s reaction. “Let’s just get inside first.”
After Dream sits himself at the table, leaning back onto the chair with a groan. He quickly rinses a rag in water, grabbing a spare bucket before rummaging through a chest for a potion.
In the light, George finally gets a better look at him as he wipes over the dirt on his face. Frowning at the spots of blood coming off with the dirt.
“Okay, now explain,” he gestures to Dream, “this.”
George rings out the rag and picks up the half-empty bottle looking at the label, regeneration, before popping the cork and pouring it out, the cloth glowing with purple light for a moment. He folds the rag, swiping the corner over each little nick and cut, Dream winces while he sighs in relief at the telltale sign of purple swirls slowly closing the wounds.
“Okay, well. Promise to not get mad at me, okay?” Dream eyes him wearily, watching as he fidgets with the side of his pants.
George squints, “That depends on your answer. And take off your hoodie and shirt, I saw a pretty big slash.”
Dream removes the mask from his head setting it down on the table and pulls off both articles of clothing, handing them to George’s outstretched palm before he tosses them in the bucket. They’re going to have to go the village tailor to get these sewed and cleaned, good thing I didn’t burn it down, he thinks.
The main portion of Dream’s body is unharmed thankfully, aside from a large gash on his side, George winces at the thought of Dream pulling an arrow out of his body. He unfolds the rag and places it over the wound, purple swirls working their magic once again.
George pulls out the other chair, dragging it next to the blond before leaning against his shoulder on his uninjured side, tracing the fading scars on his arms and torso. He looks up, urging Dream to speak.
“A bunch of skeletons practically like jumped me on the way back.” Dream says, looking at the ceiling, avoiding his gaze.
“What? Skeletons?” George’s hand pauses.
“Uh, yeah. Um. It’s weird–” George sits up, fists balling up on his lap.
“I didn’t know they even knew how to coordinate on that level. Like they practically waited til the sunset. It caught me off guard.” Dream still isn’t looking at him.
“What were you doing in the caves, Dream?” He watches the blond freeze up, realizing he can’t talk his way out of this one.
“George–”
“No, tell me why you were in the caves. Alone. God, you’ve been there this whole time? And by yourself. Why would you– you know how dangerous that is? Why wouldn’t you ask me to go with you, or fucking tell me at least?” George can tell his voice is shaking, his fists clenched, fingernails digging into his palms.
He doesn’t realize he’s stood up and backed away from him because Dream has already stood up, caging him against the table, preventing him from storming off. The cloth on his stomach fell to their feet, the open wound nothing more than a faint scar. He can feel his face heating up, anger clear in his eyes.
“What the hell, Dream?” George resorts to pounding his fists against the blond chest. “What if you had gotten even more hurt than this? You were barely able to make it back here and it’s already nightfall, fuck, then you would’ve been in even more trouble! And I wouldn’t have known, just left here wondering where the fuck you are.”
He feels slightly bad for yelling at Dream. But the thought of losing him was too real and too scary. Before he could open his mouth again, Dream’s hands are cupping his cheeks, forcing him to look the blond in the eyes.
George glares into golden eyes that peer down at him, he almost caves at the kicked puppy eyes Dream is giving him, but he won’t relent this time. “Do you not trust me anymore?”
Dream wraps his arm around him, hugging him tight. “Of course I do.”
George scoffs, “Yeah, right.”
“George, I’m sorry.” He leans down to kiss the crown of his head, “Like actually. Can you let me explain? I’m sorry, baby.” Dream asks, one hand gently rubbing up and down his back.
George feels the tension leave his body and he sighs, stepping back to sit on the table, dragging Dream closer to stand between his legs, grabbing one of the blond’s hands, fidgeting with his fingers and rings, “I guess.” He shrugs.
“Okay, first of all. I do trust you, I- how can I not? You’re my everything.” He says with no hesitation.
“But I won’t lie, I have been in the caves by myself.” Dream admits, looking him in the eyes, “And there was this skeleton spawner I’ve been trying to close off, but I guess they broke out of it or– or there were some in the area that saw me and followed me out. I don’t know.”
George furrows his brow, “But why were you down there?”
Dream gives him a lopsided grin. “I had to go pretty far down to get gold.”
George stares at him, “Gold?”
“It was supposed to be a surprise. Close your eyes.”
George hesitates but does as Dream asks. He hears Dream shuffling in front of him and freezes when he feels his hands undoing the silver chain around his neck. His hand shoots up to catch Dream’s wrist, “What are you doing–”
He’s cut off with a chaste kiss to his lips, “Relax, you’ll like this.”
He reluctantly drops his hand, heart seizing up when the comforting weight of Dream’s chain is off his neck. It’s a weird feeling, once the blond gave him his chain, he hadn’t made any move to remove it, making sure to keep it on at all times. The piece of jewelry became a comfort to him.
Before he gets too antsy, he feels another weight settle on his collarbones. “You can open your eyes now.”
His hand goes to his neck, feeling the cool metal of another chain. George looks down to see a glimmering gold necklace resting over his sweater, he looks up to see that Dream had put on an identical– no, a similar one to the one around his neck.
A matching pair.
“What? I don’t– what is this?” George asks with wide eyes.
“I made these for us. I know I gave you the other one, but I remember you mentioning wanting us to both have one. And I guess I missed having one too.”
George feels sick all over again, “So it was actually indirectly my fault you got hurt? Because I said I wanted– mmfp”
Dream’s hand is over his mouth before he can continue, “We’re not doing that again. None of this is your fault, okay? If anything it’s my fault for going down too deep, we haven’t fully explored this area. I wanted to do this. I know I probably could’ve just made this out of the same old iron or copper shit I used before but you deserve something nice.”
George blinks before pulling Dream’s hand down, “This is, this looks more delicate than all your other stuff. How did you do it?” George comments.
“I mostly made it. I went to the blacksmith to try and get some pointers, but he apparently has some experience with this. He mentioned a daughter,” George’s eye twitches, “I think he was trying to set me up or something because I said I wanted to make two.”
“I’m going to burn down the village.” George says and he means it this time.
“Easy, Georgie. I told him I was making this for my sweet and loving and beautiful boyfriend.”
George wants to strangle him for being too good and sentimental and nearly giving him a heart attack. But just like Dream, Geroge is a weak, weak man for his lover and settles for a smile while pinching his side.
He smiles at the way Dream yelps, “Fine, I forgive you. I suppose this is a very special and nice chain, I can’t not use it.”
He watches the way Dream’s face lights up, “Plus I need to brag and show this off so people know you’re taken. Let’s go back to the blacksmith right now.”
The way Dream laughs, eyes crinkling into crescents makes him wonder why he even got mad in the first place– oh yeah he almost died. He pinches Dream again, “But I swear to God if you pull shit like this again I’ll kill you myself.” He threatens, but he’s already pulling Dream down by his neck and kisses him.
Dream’s hands find their way to his lower back, as he holds him, pulling away to take a breath before connecting their lips again. Dream’s lips are chapped from being out all day and George thinks he’s perfect.
They pull away breathlessly, resting their foreheads together. George tugs at the curly hair at the nape of Dream’s neck, fingers brushing over the back of his brand-new chain. The way the gold glimmers in the light makes him feel warm, especially knowing that a similar one is around his neck.
“The potion did its work, go put a shirt on now, silly. You’re being indecent.”
“Geroge, you literally told me to take it off.”
“Don’t make me pinch you again, I’ll do it.”
Dream backs up, both hands in the air. “Okay, okay. I’m going. Let’s go cuddle after or something, I still feel like shit.” His voice trails off as he walks down the stairs.
George swings his legs as he brings a hand up to touch the chain and he can’t fight the smile that appears on his lips. When he turns around to see Dream walking up the stairs with Patches in his arms, gesturing towards their room, “You coming?”
George hops off the table, tip-toeing to kiss Dream’s nose before swiping Patches out of his arms, laughing as he skips down the steps with Dream right on his heel.