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It’s February 1st and George knows the 14th is two weeks away.
It’s February 1st and Dream still hasn’t at least made an attempt to bring up Valentine’s Day, not even once. He tries to rationalize with himself. It’s still too early to freak out, the month only just started after all, and he can’t fault Dream for not saying anything a day in.
He thinks back to the previous years. Sure, before he would jokingly reject Dream because he knew that the younger man was joking, and hell, so was he. Even Sapnap would join in on asking him.
Maybe as time went on the more he wanted it to be real grew stronger.
Although, last year was far different from the rest. The first Valentine’s where they’re together in the same space, not an ocean apart, no voices through a screen, no distance. Dream had asked him as they finished recording a video, hopping around the world. He said no, the recording was still going and he giggled to himself at Dream’s mini heartbreak spiel and Sapnap’s disgust.
It was fine, it was funny, something for the fans. But after Dream’s video premiered, on Valentine’s Day coincidentally, there was nothing.
Nothing!
Dream hadn’t asked him again and it bothered him. A lot. It’s not like he had any repressed feelings that were already bursting at the seams and were now threatening to spill over with each passing day by Dream's side.
Definitely not.
Now he could certainly make things “easier” for himself by asking Dream instead of waiting and hoping he would ask. But Geoge wants to say yes this time, he wants his best friend to sweet talk him once more. Because maybe it’ll be different this time.
Now nearly a year later he’s sprawled out on the couch still as love-sick as ever staring at the hallway leading to Dream’s office, glaring holes into it actually. He wants to barge in and lay on the bed inside, content with being in the same room, but he also knows it won’t be long before he craves the blond’s attention. And Dream has a hard time saying no.
As if reading his mind, the door opens and Dream flicks off the lights inside. He quickly notices George across the room and makes his way over, prominent bags under his eyes and a tired smile gracing his lips, but it still makes George’s heart squeeze.
“Hey, George. Do you–”
His eyes go wide and he sits up quickly, far too quickly because the room spins for a second. Is he going to ask? Was it finally happening? Does he-
“Do you wanna grab food? I’m starving.” Dream falls back onto the couch next to him, making him wobble.
“What?”
The disappointment must seep into his tone because Dream looks at him with eyebrows raised, “Or we can order in. I don’t care. You can pick something.”
Dream is pulling his phone out and holding it towards George; he takes it, swallowing the minor slip-up, and forces himself to calm down. He leans back onto the couch just as Dream drops his head into his lap, curling up and burying his face into his middle.
“Wake me up when the foods here. And get something for Nick, too.” Dream mumbles into his shirt.
George is glad his eyes are closed because there wouldn’t have been enough time for him to wipe the fond grin off his face, his free hand already finding their way into knotted curls.
“Hmm, I don’t think I will. He can starve.”
Dream jokingly pinches his side, “Be nice.” Then his hand is gently rubbing up and down his side as if the little pinch was enough to hurt him. The warmth from Dream’s palm makes him melt into the cushions.
George can feel the smile on his stomach. Dream doesn’t hesitate to reach for his hand, motioning him to continue what he was doing.
George scoffs but continues to comb his fingers through his hair. Dream sighs in content and George has nothing to worry about, there’s still 13 days left.
It’s February 8th, well , the 7th but it's almost midnight and he thinks he might have something to worry about.
A week has passed and still nothing, not even the slightest hint of a valentine mention. He’d thought about dropping hints here and there but the thought of it makes the embarrassment of the situation make a home in his chest.
Besides he has other plans today.
George walks into Dream’s office at midnight and the last thing he expects is for Dream to not actually be at his desk. The lights are off and so is his computer, the whole room strangely silent.
He blows out the singular candle on the cupcake he’s holding with a frown before turning to leave the room to look for Dream. The cupcake was something he had Ubered earlier in the day, a simple vanilla cupcake with what he knew was green frosting, along with a singular candle he had found in their kitchen drawers. Something that he hopes was green, too.
George walks around the house poking his head into all the common areas and looking for the younger man before stalking up the stairs to his room at the end of the hallway, hoping and praying that Dream wasn’t asleep for once.
It was Dream’s 10th anniversary on YouTube after all, surely no one else in their house somehow greeted and celebrated it before he did. The only other person being Sapnap, but George notes that his room is quiet and dark.
George opens the door to see it empty as well, but the bathroom connected to Dream’s room is being used. Bingo .
He’s about to set the cupcake down and flop onto the blond’s bed to wait for him to be done, but the sound of the shower stopping makes him turn his head. He quickly relights the candle and stands near the bathroom door.
George pats himself on the back, knowing that he’s the first to congratulate him on 10 years and for bringing him a midnight snack. He knows that this is particularly out of character for him, not one for sentiments, but 10 years is a big number! And if not for Dream and YouTube then where would that leave him, he was simply showing some appreciation and surely had no other motives.
The door handle jiggles and George is already practicing how he’s going to accept Dream’s question. Maybe he’ll fling his arms around broad shoulders and be lifted off the ground and–
Then the door swings open.
“Happy 10–” George bites his tongue because the last thing he was expecting was Dream to be shirtless and he can feel the flush crawl up his neck, settling high on his cheeks.
Dream smiles, so big and boyish with his skin tinged pink from his shower and his damp curls obscuring his eyes and his broad shoulders and chest and the healed scars that wrap around his sides and George wants to kiss him so, so badly , “George? What’s this for?” He points at the cupcake in his palms.
He blinks, regaining his composure, “For you– It’s for your 10 years on YouTube. That’s today, like right now.”
“Wait, really? Holy shit.” Dream laughs in surprise. “Vanilla?”
He nods, “I was the first to congratulate you, too, I’m actually the best.”
“I’m pretty sure there’s someone on Twitter who probably beat you to it.”
“You’re an idiot. Whatever, I’m gonna eat this all by myself!” He makes a point to spin around completely.
As he turns around, he hears a laugh and then there are two hands on his waist, dragging him back into a warm body. It takes everything in him to not crush the cupcake in his hands as he’s being turned around by Dream.
Once Dream is sure he won’t leave, he pats his side and the touch sends shocks throughout his body, “I’m kidding, of course, you’re the first. No one except you.”
The pride swells inside, this is how it should be. Just the two of them, just him and Dream.
“I’m also the best, you forgot that part.”
Dream laughs again, shaking his head, “Okay, you’re also the best. Now let me eat my celebratory cupcake.” Dream finished by blowing out the candle with a grin. “Thank you, Georgie.”
“That’s what I thought.” George manages to get out as he’s being led to sit at the edge of Dream’s bed and he hands the pastry to the younger man after plucking out the candle.
George watches in anticipation as Dream takes a bite, he might’ve not baked it but it would be sad if he didn’t like it. He sighs in relief as Dream makes a noise of approval, he tentatively reaches for Dream’s free hand, eyes glued to the way his palm swallows his whole hand.
Dream pays no mind as he traces the creases on his palm and veins on his wrist or the way he’s spinning the colorful bracelet on his arm and picking at the beads. He lines their hands up for a second and the need to intertwine their fingers together invades his brain.
He settles for playing with his fingers instead.
Dream gets through half of it before he hands the rest to George, saying something about him looking like he wanted a piece. And he would’ve been right, he does want a bite.
George thinks Dream doesn’t even realize he’s looking at him with such a soft look that makes his stomach flip, he internally gloats knowing no one else can have this version of Dream. A soft, sweet, and shirtless Dream. He happily eats the other half as a warm hand wraps its around his waist in a firm grip.
February 8th? Pfft , there’s plenty of time until the 14th. And at this rate, he for sure has nothing to worry about. Surely, this means something to Dream. Right?
It’s 3 am on February 14th and George is ready to give up.
Well, not fully because he’s sat in Dream’s bed, huddled under his blankets as Patches curls up by his head. His eyes are burning up as he scrolls through TikTok, not even processing any video that plays anymore.
But another week has gone by and surprise, surprise ! Not a single mention, or a hint or anything to allude to Dream asking him. This was new. New in a bad way because by now Dream would’ve asked him to be his valentine, whether it be through a stupid text as a joke or on stream as a bit, but not this year.
His phone slips out of his hands and lands on the floor, but he can’t be bothered to reach for it. He rolls over into the pillows and groans, he regrets it the moment he inhales and is left with Dream’s cologne and fabric softener.
George wonders if he’s always been this clingy; he hasn’t properly seen Dream today aside from the few times he’s crawled out of his office to use the bathroom or get food. It wasn’t enough Dream Time by his standards, he’s been spoiled.
He thinks about bursting into his office again but the bedroom door opens and George wonders once again if Dream can read his mind.
Dream must be that tired because he silently pulls his shirt off and shuts the light, walks up to his bed, and yells when George yanks his wrist as soon as he touches the comforter.
He fumbles for the table lamp, hand over his chest, “Jesus fucking christ, how long have you been here?”
George laughs in his face, serves you right , he thinks, for leaving me valentine-less this year.
“I’ve been here for a while,” He chooses not to elaborate, I was waiting for you, “Just get into bed already. Idiot.”
Maybe he’s just as tired and delirious as Dream, feeling too needy right now.
The bedroom is quiet as Dream gets under the covers as well, leaning on his side to face George. And he fully turns on his side to face the blond too. They stare at each other in silence, the soft glow of the lamp illuminating Dream’s face and the longer George looks, the more the words in his throat want to jump out.
“Do you–
“I have–”
They speak at the same time and cut each other off with wide eyes. They blink at each other before giggling.
“In sync, bb.”
George snorts, thankful for the way they always make each other laugh, “You’re stupid.”
Dream only smiles at him and George thinks he wants to cry. For a multitude of reasons and all of them being related to his best friend. And just like clockwork, there’s a movement under the covers before a hand lands on his waist, thumbs rubbing circles into his shirt.
“Is something wrong? What were you gonna say?” Dream looks concerned.
George bites his lip, contemplating. Fuck it. Even when he gets painfully rejected on Valentine’s Day of all days, at least he’ll finally get the weight off his chest. Dream isn’t cruel, he wouldn’t end their friendship over George’s one-sided feelings. They would get through it like they always have.
“Do you not like me anymore?”
The thumb on his waist stops and George thinks his heart just got ripped out of his chest, “Do I– I.. What?” Dream stammers.
“I mean, like, did you just not like me ever? Was I just reading this– reading you wrong or something?” George sits up, Dream’s hand falling off his side, he clutches the comforter. “Like it’s stupid or whatever but you’ve completely ignored today and you haven’t asked me to be– ugh , forget it.”
He makes a move to get out of bed, but Dream is grabbing his wrist and pulling him back.
Dream is sat up now, looking flustered, “I– You like me, wait, you thought that I didn’t…? Fuck, hold on. Don’t leave, please.”
When George makes no attempt to move, Dream nearly falls out of his bed as he turns around, yanking open the bedside drawer. George hears it slide shut and he looks up to Dream who is fidgeting around with a small box in his hands.
“First of all, you’re an idiot if you think that I didn’t like you. Like, you actually thought I didn’t? I think everyone on this planet knows that.” Dream says with no malice, just disbelief.
George thinks he’s going to explode if Dream means what he thinks he meant.
Dream smiles, that soft smile he’s all too familiar with, “I’m serious, George. I didn’t just ask you about Valentine’s Day this year because I didn’t want you to think it was a joke. And honestly, I don’t think it's been a joke for a while.”
George frowns, “You literally didn’t say anything last year! Besides the stupid extra scenes video!” He accuses.
“I was scared, okay!” Dream groans, “It was the first Valentine where you were here with me and I thought you didn’t feel the same! You said no every year!”
Well, now he feels a little embarrassed, “Okay, well, I was scared, too. Congrats. You’re the idiot.” He huffs.
This time, Dream reaches for his hand and places the small box into his palm, “I mean I was gonna like leave this in your office or something later today,” He scoots closer to him, “But you love keeping me on my toes, don’t you?”
George doesn’t answer that and instead opens the box, inside a perfect little gold link bracelet rests undisturbed. He wordlessly traces it with wide eyes, looking up to see Dream staring at him expectantly. The chain around his neck, buried under his collar makes him squirm. He feels a tear prick at the corner of his eye and he can’t help the grin etching itself onto his lips.
”Well, I don’t know what you want me to do with this, you still haven’t asked me anything.” George shrugs, watching the way Dream’s jaw falls open before he’s throwing his head back with a wheeze.
”Fuck, you scared me again.” He picks up George’s hand and finally, finally, intertwines their fingers and George thinks they fit together like a puzzle piece. Dream squeezes his hand, looking into his eyes, “George, will you be my Valentine?”
”Wow, that was actually kind of cringe now that I’m hearing it.” He laughs as he scrunches his face up.
“What the fuck? George!” Dream exclaims, “You literally asked me to say it, what the fuck do you mean it’s cringe?” He complains, but the smile on his face and hearts in his eyes say otherwise.
”It’s cringe, you’re cringe, but yes, I’ll be your Valentine, Dream. Now put it on.”
He hands Dream the box back and holds his wrist out. Dream wastes no time in wrapping it around his wrist gently, clasping the lock in place before leaving a kiss on the back of his hand. Even in the darkness, he thinks the gold glimmers so brightly in his eyes.
George crawls over and plants himself in the blond’s lap, hands finding their way to warm skin on broad shoulders, his hands finding their way to the chain on the Dream’s neck, “I think you deserve something in return, too.”
Large hands find their way to his waist one more, but this time they’re not shy in the way they slide under his shirt to explore new expanses of warm skin, “Oh really?” Dream isn’t subtle in the way his eyes flicker down to his mouth.
“Really.”
And with no more hesitation, their lips meet and George thinks he's going to cry, this is everything he’s ever wanted. He sighs into Dream’s mouth when he pulls him even closer, turning into putty in his hands and he’d let Dream mold him into any shape he wants.
He pulls away only to have Dream chase his mouth once more, he turns his head, giggling when Dream settles for pressing kisses into his neck and jaw, his beard tickling and prickling at his skin. He scratches at the hairs on Dream’s neck and the latter squeezes him tighter, face still resting in the crook of his neck. Another kiss is placed on his neck, which is surely red and tender before Dream mumbles, “George?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
There’s a gasp, a beat of silence, and two flushed love sick faces.
George presses his mouth on Dream’s once more, going too fast and missing his lips the first time. He wraps his arms around his neck and legs around his hips and leans back laughing into his mouth, dragging Dream onto him.
“I love you, too. So fucking much.”
George wakes up warm. Uncomfortably warm.
The space next to him on the bed is empty, save for Patches quietly curled up on the vacant pillow.
It takes him a few seconds to realize he’s trapped underneath the comforter and that Dream’s arm is draped over his body, keeping him pressed against Dream’s chest. He can barely see the leg of Dream’s sweatpants behind him and snorts at the idiot being too excited to even get under the covers with him.
The events of the early morning make the corners of his mouth curl and he brings his hand out from under the warmth, and he finally gets a proper look at the gold on his wrist.
He gasps when a much bigger hand comes up to hold his wrist, Dream’s thumb rubbing against the gold and he shivers when a kiss is placed on the back of his neck, right over the equally shining proof of Dream’s affection peeking over his shirt collar.
“Mornin’,” Dream’s rough voice says from behind him as he intertwines their hands, “ Happy Valentine’s Day, George.”
George smiles now knowing he never had anything to worry about at all.