Work Text:
There’s a heaviness on Dream’s shoulders as he wanders across the shore, too busy with his own thoughts. The water is cold, contrasting heavily with the humidity that sticks to his skin. He watches the water changing colors as he passes by, hoping for a miracle to find him.
(And it does.)
The first time he meets George, he thinks he’s hallucinating. Maybe his self-isolating tendencies have gotten the best of him. He’s beautiful in morning sunlight, his tail a shimmering shade of blue that blends in nicely with the water. His eyes look like honey when the sun hits them just right. If he looks close enough, there’s a scattered constellation of freckles on the bridge of his nose.
The first time he meets George, Dream thinks he’s surely lost his mind.
Sapnap thinks it’s a great idea: to get his mind off things, to take a break for a month at the seaside at his grandparents’ house while Sapnap takes care of everything else.
“I’m a big boy, dude. I can handle it.”
And so he agrees, even though the first night already makes him regret his decision as his grandparents fuss over him. He feels bad for not visiting them sooner.
He’s been there for a week when he slips on one of the rocks and almost cracks his skull open when he sees someone from across the shore. It’s easy to notice him, of course–he’s strikingly beautiful with those big brown eyes and full lips.
But most of all, it’s the tail. The tail catches him off guard.
“What the fuck,” he mutters, feeling like he’s lost his mind. “What the fuck.”
“Never seen a merman before, have you?” the merman says casually, like it’s a common occurrence to find a mythical creature in the wild. “You’re not from around here.”
“I'm not,” Dream admits, feeling like he really must’ve cracked his skull open when he fell because… this can’t be happening. This isn’t real. “I’m sorry: is that a tail?”
The man–or, rather, the merman–laughs, open and easy. “It’s fake. Do you want to touch it?”
“Can I?” he asks, feeling like maybe the man is telling the truth. There’s no such thing as mermen, right?
“Of course not, you idiot,” the merman chastises him before splashing around once more, his tail visible underneath the water.
“I’m losing my mind. There’s no such thing as mermen,” he breathes out, feeling speechless.
“Well, you found one,” the merman smartly says. His tail is wagging now.
“This isn’t real,” he whispers, pinching himself. He can feel it. Oh, god.
“It’s real. And you’re loud.”
“What do you mean I’m loud–look, here’s the thing–what’s your name so I know this is real.”
The merman pauses before he says, “George. What’s yours?”
A simple and easy name to remember, nothing he would’ve expected from a merman. “Dream.”
“Listen, Dream: this is real,” George points at his tail. “And if you want to mope, please be more quiet next time.”
Dream splutters. “I’m not moping!”
“Yes, you are.”
“I’m not.”
“It looks like you are.”
“That’s not what it looks like at all!”
“Then what does it look like?”
Dream huffs. “Fine. I’m moping.”
“Good to know. Now, please can you kindly do it somewhere else?” Before he can say anything else, George is gone, leaving Dream to wonder what the fuck just happened.
The next morning, he waits in the same spot, being more careful this time around not to slip and fall. He’s thinking that maybe he did just imagine the whole thing when he sees a head pop out of the water.
“I think I already said you need to get lost,” George’s hair looks impossibly soft even when wet like this. Dream kind of wants to touch it. “Was I not clear enough?”
“You’re real,” Dream answers, because–holy shit, he really didn’t dream up the whole thing
“Yeah, we already established that.”
“Where’s your tail?” Dream asks in wonder. Because, look, it’s not every day you stumble onto a merman.
George looks indignant. “I’m not a circus animal.”
Dream shrugs. “You sort of are.”
“That’s just rude.”
“Sorry,” Dream breathes out, still in awe. A pause.“Your tail is beautiful.”
“That’s better,” George nods, tail swishing in the water. “Why are you here, anyway?”
“Waiting for you,” he admits. “I thought I just dreamt the whole thing up.”
George rolls his eyes, “Well, Dream, I’m real. Are you happy now?”
“Yes.”
“Right.”
“I am! I’m not crazy.”
“You’re not,” George agrees. “Just a little weird.”
He scoffs. “Says the merman.”
“We exist! You just didn’t know that until now!”
“Then where are the rest of you?”
George’s tail is swishing even more wildly this time. Dream can’t stop looking at it. “I‘m alone.”
“Why are you alone?”
“Gee, so many questions.”
“I’m just curious.” This time, he leans in closer toward the water. George backs up a bit, like he might do something drastic, as if Dream isn’t the one who doesn’t know the whole scope of being a merman. Does George have claws? Are his teeth sharper than Dream’s? Does he eat humans? Dream should be scared, but all he finds is that he’s intrigued. George is awfully pretty. “Am I not allowed to be?”
“Yes.”
“You shouldn’t be surprised. I’m the guy who wants to know everything.”
“I can tell.”
Dream flushes. “Shut up.”
George scoffs. “Says the guy who won’t stop asking me questions.”
“I’m just curious!” he repeats.
“Well… stop being curious, then.”
“Fine.” Dream relents. He can find out more about George when the time is right. “Why are you here again?”
“What did I just say about questions?”
The sun is high in the sky when he wakes up the next morning. He spends it packing as many things as he can fit into his backpack: food that his grandma made, old books and magazines he found in the attic for if he gets bored, and some clothes that he can wear if he gets wet.
When he arrives, he can already see George swimming near the shore, almost like he’s been waiting for Dream to come around.
“You came back,” George asks, slightly puzzled but not seeming all that shocked, either.
“Beats being home alone,” he replies, careful as he sits on one of the rocks. George looks curiously at his backpack while he sorts things out.
“Do you mind?” he can’t help but ask. George’s eyes are so intense on him. It makes goosebumps rise from his arms.
George shrugs and only moves closer to inspect what Dream has in his possession.
He sighs before looking up. “George, has anyone ever told you it’s rude to stare?”
George laughs. “Never.”
“Well, stop staring at me.”
“What do you have in there?” George asks instead, his eyes moving toward Dream’s backpack.
He sighs again before pulling out the sandwich his grandma made for him. “Do you want some?”
George looks at him, scrutinizing. “Can I?”
He nods before offering it to George. George hesitantly takes it, being careful with his claws. George has claws. It’s a new revelation. Dream can’t help but be fascinated by it.
He tears through the sandwich carefully. Dream can see some canines peeking out from behind his lips. The more he learns about George, the more he can’t help but want to keep learning.
“Good?” he asks, knowing the answer already.
George licks his lips. “Not bad. Do you have some more?”
Dream only laughs before he offers another sandwich. In the back of his mind, he’s already preparing to bring more food to George.
It’s intriguing how much George enjoys human food, so Dream makes sure to ask his grandma for more of an assortment than he’d eat otherwise. She does ask why he needs so many sandwiches if he’s eating alone. Answering that question with, “Yes, I’m planning to split them with a merman,” would make him sound crazy, so he tells her that he’s planning to be at the beach for a long time and needs as many sandwiches as possible. It’s partially true, anyway–Dream does enjoy George’s company no matter how prickly he can be, and wants to spend the day with him. There’s something about him that’s so enticing.
“Why are you here again?” George asks, but his actions betray him: he comes closer to the shore, to the place where Dream is sitting.
“Food?” Dream asks back.
George nods haltingly before he takes the sandwich Dream offers to him. He seems to be hungry. Maybe being alone does that to him. He’s curious where the rest of the mermen–merpeople?–have gone, but he keeps his mouth shut.
“Good?” he decides to ask instead.
George shrugs. “I’ve had better.”
Dream only laughs, because that’s probably a lie. George eats like a man starved. He offers him one more before he decides to pull out some of his belongings. George looks on curiously as Dream grabs a magazine–bad idea; George would probably ruin it with his wet hands–and sets it aside, deciding that the old music box he’d tucked away earlier would be a better idea.
“Do you know what this is?” Dream asks. It’s old and probably seen better days, but at least it’s of more use to Dream here than in the attic.
George scoffs. “I know what human inventions are. I’m not an animal.”
Dream chuckles, then lets George inspect the music box. “Then what is it?”
George goes silent as Dream sighs, not teasing him this time. He opens the music box and Für Elise starts to play slowly.
George listens for a bit before he starts to hum, his voice clear and high. It’s wonderful. Dream is mesmerized by the sound as George continues, the shadow from the sun casting a halo around his hair as he follows the melody softly.
“Are you a siren?” Dream asks before he can stop himself.
George rolls his eyes as he closes the music box carefully. “If I was one, you'd already be dead, don’t you think?”
If the last thing Dream saw was George’s face, he thinks he wouldn’t mind dying. His stomach flips–good god, what is wrong with him. He’s only known George for three days, and he already feels himself changing.
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Right.”
He spent the next few days on the shore talking to George. It’s somehow so easy to do, even though all their conversations consist of debates over silly things. He brings George food sometimes, and they eat it together while they bask in the morning sun. It’s still a surreal experience talking to George, but he enjoys it a lot.
It’s one of those mornings when he asks, “Where are the rest of you? I only see you.”
He regrets it as soon as the question leaves his mouth. He sees George stiffen. “Is it so bad to only see me?”
“George,” he pleads. He wants to know.
“Dream. You won’t let this go, will you?”
Dream shakes his head guiltily. George sighs. “I lost them during a storm. We’re a pack, but I lost them and now I’m stranded here.” He can see a glint in George’s eyes. “With you.”
“Hey!” He reprimands, laughing when he sees George giggles. “What’s wrong with being here with me?”
George rolls his eyes dramatically. “Oh, everything.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“Gladly.” George swims away, and for a moment, Dream thinks he’s ruined this–then George swim back to him, laughing the entire time. “You should see your face!”
“Shut up.”
“That’s rich, coming from you.”
“I don’t want to scare you away,” Dream mumbles, feeling oddly vulnerable. It’s his curse, really–scaring people away. “I’m sorry.”
George seems to sense his mood. “You never scare me.”
“Even when I ask you questions you don’t want to answer?”
“Mayhaps,” George admits, his tail swishing lazily in the water. No matter how many times Dream sees it, he’s still transfixed by it. “But you’ll never scare me away.”
“Promise?” he asks, voice small.
George nods. “I promise.”
His grandparents don’t ask him why he goes to the beach so damn often, only smile and indulge him.
It’s not like he tries to keep it a secret; he’s just not ready to share George with anyone else. Besides, it seems like George is as lonely as he is.
“I’ve never seen you swim before,” George starts. He’s lounging on the rocks, soaking up the sun. His tail splashes wildly in the water. “Why haven’t you?”
Dream shrugs. “Just not my thing.”
“But walking around the shore is?”
“Hey!” he reprimands with a laugh. “I never would’ve met you if I hadn’t.”
“That’s true,” George hums in agreement. “But I’d like to see you swim with me. It’d be fun.”
Dream shakes his head. “No. Like I said, it’s not my thing.”
“Dream.”
“George.”
“It’ll be fun!”
“What if you eat me?” Dream asks half-jokingly. He trusts George but still doesn’t know if George actually eats people or not. They’ve never talked about it. “Or I drown?”
“I’ll save you,” George answers easily. “Besides, my teeth aren’t sharp enough, I think.”
“So you admit there’s a possibility! And you still have your claws.”
George rolls his eyes. “Stop stalling.”
“I’m not!” He is.
“You are!”
“Fine,” he admits, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “I just don’t like it, okay?”
George cocks his head to the side. “Why?”
“I just don’t.”
George smiles, a glint in his eyes again. “I can make it fun.”
Dream can’t help but be intrigued. “How?”
“Well… ” George starts swimming away from him. “I’ll just have to show you, won’t I?”
“George… ”
“C’mon! I know you want to!”
He shakes his head, George groaning loudly in response. “You’re no fun!”
“Sorry. Better luck next time.”
“I hate you,” George says, petulant.
Dream laughs, knowing that part isn’t true. “No, you don’t.”
The humid air makes everything sticky as he changes into another shirt, feeling self-conscious about what he should wear to meet George today.
“Going to the beach again?” His grandmother’s head peeks through the door. Dream jumps, as he wasn’t expecting her. His grandma laughs. “It’s odd. I thought you hated the beach.”
“‘Hate’ is a strong word,” Dream replies, finally finding a shirt that he’s pretty sure he hasn’t worn yet. “I just don’t like it.”
“But you’ve gone so often now. I never see you!” his grandma chastises, standing in front of him, fussing over him. Dream feels a jolt of guilt at that.
“Sorry.” He grimaces, hoping it’s enough of an apology. “I like it now.”
“Did you find someone?”
He feels his face flush. He’s never been a good liar. “Grandma… ”
“Good for you if you have,” his grandma says. “I always worry that you’ll end up alone.”
“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.”
His grandma laughs. “I’m grateful you found someone, then. I hope for the best.”
Dream smiles to himself. “I hope so, too.”
When he arrives at the beach, the sky is streaked with orange and pink hues. He’s never been this late before, but his grandma took up a lot of his time–it’s been a while since they’ve actually talked.
“Where were you?” George asks as soon as he spots him. “I was going to go somewhere else.”
“But you stayed,” Dream replied, smiling. “You were never going anywhere.”
“I could just go now,” George threatens, though they both know it’s not true.
“I’ve got something for you,” he offers, taking off his backpack and unzipping it. George looks on curiously. Dream has found that George likes little trinkets from the human world; he likes to eat their food, too, of course. Sometimes, then, he’ll go and buy something that’s only for George, like the new chain he hands over to George.
“It’s mine,” Dream continues. George looks at him, playing with the chain between his fingers. “It’s yours, if you want it.”
“Dream.”
“George.”
“I can’t accept this.”
Dream clears his throat. A part of himself knew George would be like this. “I have another one. It’s yours. It’ll look good on you.”
George sighs before gently, like it’s made of fine china that might break, putting it on himself. It contrasts beautifully with his pale skin. The chain–it could never belong to someone else like it does to George.
“Beautiful,” he breathes out. He can’t stop himself from reaching out; he hears George’s breath hitch as he touches the chain, now clasped loosely around his neck. For a moment, time freezes, and he tries to commit this to memory: the coolness of the chain, the way he can feel George exhale as he touches his neck.
“You’re just saying that because it used to be yours,” George murmurs before swimming away from him. At times like these, Dream wants to be able to swim after him so badly and reach out again.
He shakes his head and calls out, “No. It fits you.”
George looks hesitant as he swims back to shore. “Is it really for me?”
“Yeah.” He nods before continuing, voice small. “If you want it to be.”
George smiles teasingly at him. “It does look good on me, doesn’t it?”
Dream laughs, relieved. “Of course–you know how pretty you are.”
“Oh, really? Say it again. I can’t hear you.”
“George.”
“Dream.”
He sighs, splashing water toward George’s face, George spluttering as he laughs.
“You don’t play fair,” George says, scowling at him. He looks even more beautiful like this, with the metallic shimmer of the chain on his neck visible, blindingly beautiful.
“Like you do.”
“C’mon, Dream,” George pleads, head cocked to the side. “Say it again.”
He could say many things about George: how his claws and his sharp teeth somehow makes him look dangerous but never scare Dream away, the hair that falls in front of George’s eyes, those curls that look so soft, those brown eyes that enrapture him and pull him into George’s orbit, the tail that glistens in the morning sunlight, the way it’s so easy to just talk to him like they’ve known each other for so much longer.
But that’s not what he ends up saying, because it’s both too much and not enough.
“You’re pretty. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
George laughs loudly, ringing like a bell. “Was that so hard?”
As Dream looks up at George’s face, he knows it’s the easiest thing he could ever admit. “Yes, it was.”
Dream can’t stop looking at George. He feels like his breath is stuck in his lungs when he watches George swimming back and forth. The way the sunlight hits his hair changes the color into copper, his eyes looking like liquid honey.
He dips his feet into the ocean, trying to be brave after such a long time since he last went swimming. He can feel his heart beating like butterfly wings underneath his rib cage.
“Can I really not convince you to swim?” George asks, coming closer to rest his head near Dream’s thighs. Like this, he kind of wants to reach out and caress the side of George's face.
He sighs, kicking at the water, making it splash. George flinches before he swims away once more. “Was that really necessary?”
“No, I’m just–can you just not ask me the same question every time?” He shoots back.
“Like you don’t do the same thing.”
Dream huffs. “Fine. I’m scared of drowning, okay?”
George pauses before coming closer again. His hands are warm on Dream’s thighs this time. “Hey, it’s okay.”
“And it’s so hard not to feel tempted because you look like that and I so badly want to join you,” he continues, face flushing as he realizes what he just said.
George laughs. “Like what, Dreamie, huh?”
“Like a dream come to life,” he mutters quietly.
George blinks in surprise, like he didn’t expect Dream to actually say it out loud. “Oh, you think I’m pretty?” he teases, but there’s an edge to it.
“You know damn well I do,” he replies unabashedly, checking George out, from the swoop of his hair to his pale chest and magnificent tail.
George flushes, the red reaching down to his chest. Not for the first time, there’s the urge to touch it, to touch George like he’s been wanting to.
George swims away, inviting him into the water with open hands. “C’mon.”
“What?” he snaps. Didn’t George hear him? He’s afraid of drowning.
“You won’t drown, I promise,” George says. “Do you trust me?”
George looks like a dream come true. There’s something aching, ravenous, chewing away at Dream, making him want to reach out and touch.
“Yeah,” he breathes out.
Before he can say anything else, George cups his head with both his hands and presses his lips to Dream’s. Something cracks open inside of him, hunger gnawing at his bones at the single, simple touch. He wants more. They kiss and it’s wonderful, just a simple press of lips–but he wants everything.
George pulls him closer, and without realizing it, he’s being pulled under, slowly but surely. He doesn’t mind it this time, as long as George keeps kissing him like this. He can feel the coolness of the water across his skin, the air inside his body trapped in one singular motion as George pulls away and he finally breathes out–underwater.
Dream yelps, but he doesn’t feel the rush of panic that comes when he’s underwater, just sudden calmness that washes over him as George looks him over.
“What did you do?” He asks. It comes out clearly. “George?”
“A kiss from a merman can make you breathe underwater. Haven’t you ever heard of that?”
“No.” He feels like he’s floating in the air. He flaps his hands–which may look ridiculous, but it’s the only thing he could think to do at that moment. His clothes feel heavy, but he's not drowning, still hovering in the same place as before, kicking his legs against the current. “How long does it last?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never done this,” George says. “I thought it wouldn’t work, honestly.”
“And you still did it?!” he shrieks, freaking out. “What is wrong with you?!”
“I wanted to know if it’d work.” George shrugs. “It works.”
He groans. “You’re a menace, actually.”
George laughs. “But you can breathe underwater now!”
“But my clothes are heavy,” he points out, pointing at the fabric of his shirt. “I can’t swim like this.”
“Then take them off.”
He stays silent. George continues, clearly flustered, “Or don’t. I mean, it’s your choice.”
Dream hums noncommittally, feeling cornered. On the one hand, he does feel like it’d be better if he took off his clothes; on the other hand, his scar is so prominent. George would surely notice it. He swims back to the shore, George following him.
“What are you doing?” George asks as he stands on the rocks once again. “Dream?”
“Taking my clothes off. Isn’t that what you want?” He can’t help but shoot back. He can see George blushing a bit.
“Why are you saying it like that?”
“Like what?” he teases, liking the way he can make George feel flustered, too.
“Dream.”
“George.”
“Ugh, I hate you.”
He laughs loudly this time as he takes his pants off. “No, you don’t.”
Dream keeps his eyes on George as he squirms, feeling confident in his skin even though George is the one who’s swimming around shirtless all the time. He takes off his shirt finally, feeling George’s eyes mapping the trail of his skin with his eyes. It makes him feel proud as redness starts to build on George’s own skin, all the way down to his chest.
“See something you like?” he teases again, throwing his shirt to the ground.
“Shut up,” George groans. “You're insufferable.”
He chuckles, plunging his feet into the sea, testing the waters before jumping in again. This time, he can feel the water start to make its way into his lungs as he thrashes around, feeling like he might drown. He might–oh, god–
He feels George reach out as he tries to relax. George kisses him again, softer this time, like he’s something that might break. He can breathe clearly again as George pulls away. “Huh.”
“I think I have to kiss you every time you go underwater,” George says. “Or else you really might drown.”
If he has the opportunity to kiss George every time he goes underwater, he’ll take it. That’s the best outcome there could be.
The only word he can seem to utter is, “Huh.”
“Stop saying ‘huh.’ It makes you sound stupid.”
“Shut up.”
“So you’re ready to go underwater this time?”
He smiles at George, feeling the excitement that radiates from him. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
They start swimming together after that, not too far from the shore but far enough that the old Dream would’ve probably freaked out about it. George makes him feel safe, though, so it’s easy to just give in.
The kisses come off as shy at first, but with more time, George becomes much firmer in kissing him. It doesn’t make things less exciting; every kiss, in fact, feels like the first one.
They’re lounging on the shore, enjoying Dream’s lunch, when Dream feels like he should bring up the fact that he’s leaving soon. But how can he, when George looks so happy, smiling at him warmly, the now-familiar crinkles around his eyes coming out? The freckles that are scattered across the bridge of his nose have become more prominent; Dream has lost count of how many times he’s tried to count them.
He can’t do this right now. Not when things have just started to feel this good.
“So,” George starts, in the middle of finishing his sandwich. “I think we should… ”
Before he can finish his sentence, it’s Dream who leans down and steals a kiss from him. George hums into his mouth like he expected it, but Dream can feel him smiling as the kiss goes on for longer. They’ve never kissed for this long before–it’s always been a necessity instead of something they do for fun.
He can feel George opening his mouth, so he licks into it, tasting the sandwich George just ate. It tastes even more delicious on George’s tongue than it ever did on his.
It goes on for longer than he expected at the start, and George blinks in surprise at him when they finally pull away from each other, licking his lips. “What was that for? I thought we weren’t swimming today.”
“We’re not,” he agrees. He can’t stop looking at George’s lips, knowing how they feel against his now. He wants more. “I just wanted to do it.”
George scoffs, like he wasn’t expecting Dream to say that. “Oh, really?”
“There’s something I just found out I like,” Dream starts, knowing it’ll be too honest and too cheesy. He can’t help it. “Kissing you.”
He can see George flushing. “Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah.” He nods in agreement. “It’s debilitating. I can’t help but want to do it every time.”
George rolls his eyes. “You’re infuriating.”
“It’s true,” he answers purposefully, looking at George’s lips again. “You taste divine.”
George leans in close. “Shut up.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” he whispers before leaning down and kissing George again. This time, he can feel George relax into the kiss as he bites down on his bottom lip, eliciting a moan that falls from them unconsciously. They kiss until the need to breathe comes back, then they kiss again and again and again until the world starts to slip away from their grasp.
After that, they always find a reason to kiss, whether it’s on the shore or underwater. Dream finds he enjoys this new development very much. He likes it best when he catches George off guard, cupping his face and watching as his eyelashes flutter closed before their mouths make contact. George still demands things from him, like a book that he carefully reads while on the shore or his grandma’s famous sandwich, but he also finds quiet tranquility when he’s with George.
Sometimes, when he brings back the music box, George hums the melody back to him, and he’ll lay on the shore while he listens along. He likes the clear pitch of George’s voice, the impressive high note that he’s able to achieve. Dream lets the sound of his voice wash over him.
They’re in the ocean looking for fish when George brings it up.
“You’re not from here, right?” There’s a bunch of fish following them; George shoos them away.
Dream laughs. “You already knew that. Are we rehashing old conversations? Because I’d rather kiss you right now.”
George stops him with his hands. “Dream.”
“George.”
“I’m serious.”
“I’m serious about the kissing, too,” he says, leaning in. George immediately turns away, though, so that Dream’s lips only touch his cheek. He frowns. “What is this about?”
“You have to leave, right?”
Dream goes silent. He really wants to run away from this conversation, but it’s inevitable. He only has a few days left. He was planning to extend it even further, but… Sapnap. Sapnap needs him. He can’t run away forever.
“Yeah,” he answers reluctantly.
George immediately swims away, Dream chasing after him. “George!”
“How long was it going to take until you told me this?” George asks, eyes blazing with anger.
“I was planning to stay!” Dream insists as George scoffs at him. “I was. I am.”
George smiles sadly. “They always leave eventually.”
“But I don’t want to!” he presses on.
“But you have to!” George shoots back.
“George… ” Dream reaches out, but George just swims away again, out of his grasp.
“I need time,” George says. “I just–I need time.”
Before Dream can reach out to him again, George is already swimming away as fast as he can.
Every day, he comes to the shore, and every day, there’s no sign of George. His grandma asks him why he’s so sad all the time now when he’d been happy all summer, but she chalks it up to the fact he has to leave soon. Still, she cups his face and pulls him close, and for a moment Dream can pretend everything is alright.
He misses George so much it aches. One time, he tried to find George all alone in the ocean, but without the ability to breathe underwater, he couldn’t even reach that far. He’s still terrified of drowning.
He sits in the same spot every day and tries to lure George to him instead, like reading some of his favorite books or playing the music box as he hums along with it. He doesn’t have George’s high pitch, but he can carry a tune, and he hopes the sea can bring the sound to where George is.
“George,” he begs to the sea. He holds the chain that binds them together, but it hurts; it’s choking him instead of calming him down. He loves sharing similar chain with George even if they’re a little bit different, but now it feels like a rope that’s tied tightly on his neck.
He sighs one more time before turning back from the sea, the sky a blazing orange as he walks back toward his grandparents’ house.
It’s his last day, and still George is nowhere to be found. He feels hopeless, like everything good has been taken away from him. He wishes things would’ve turned out differently, that he hadn't fallen for George in the first place, but it’s too late, isn’t it? Dream can’t take anything back, and knowing George was a blessing anyway, a miracle that he wants to remember forever.
The sky is clear, contrary to how Dream feels, when he hears it.
“Dream!”
He pauses, feeling like he might be going crazy–because of course he would. Missing George has made him insane.
“Dream!”
He turns around. This can’t be real. There’s George, limping to him, shirtless like he always is but with legs. George has legs. This can't be real–this is just wishful thinking–
“Dream,” George breathes out once he’s close enough. He looks different, his face contorted in pain, his hair looking longer than ever, sticking out in different directions.
“George?” he asks, reaching out. He can feel warm flesh against his hand as George leans into the touch. “George? How… ?”
“There’s a witch that can turn you into a human,” George says. “She granted my wish.”
Dream frowns, looking him up and down. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt, right? She didn’t hurt you?”
George smiles as he cups his face with his hands. “I’m okay.”
“I thought I lost you,” Dream manages, voice shaky.
“I’m fine… I just need to take some time with these,” he says, pointing at his feet. Dream still can’t believe it. George has feet now.
“You're insane,” Dream says, pulling him into a hug. “All this just for me?”
He can feel George laughs. “You’ll never scare me away, remember?”
Dream laughs shakily. “I remember.”
“So you better not run away now, because I plan to stay for as long as I can.”
Dream pulls back, taking George’s face into his hands instead. “Stay as long as you’d like.”
George smiles at him before pulling him back into a hug again. There are so many questions Dream wants to ask, confessions he wants to make, but right now, having George in his arms–Dream knows it’s enough.