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It was less than two weeks until Christmas, and George still had no idea what to get his boyfriend.
They had been together for almost a year now, and Dream wasn’t particularly difficult to shop for—he loved books, cozy sweaters, and just about anything handmade. But this was their first Christmas as a couple, and George wanted it to be special, something Dream would never forget.
He was quietly hanging ornaments on the Christmas tree, deep in thought, when Dream walked in holding a large, dusty box that looked like it weighed more than him. Decorations spilled over the edges, glittering in the soft light of the tree.
“Need a hand?” George asked, chuckling as Dream staggered forward, struggling to find his balance.
Dream huffed, finally dropping the box onto the floor with a heavy thud. “My mom just dropped these off. Apparently, she’s been hoarding all of our old Christmas decorations in her attic and decided we should have them this year.” He crouched down, pulling out a tangled mess of tinsel and lights. “Wreaths, ornaments, some weird Santa figurine that my brother hated—basically, a bunch of stuff we don’t need but absolutely have to use because, according to her, ‘it’s tradition.’”
George grinned as Dream started untangling a string of lights with more enthusiasm than skill. “You’re not seriously going to try and use all of that, are you?”
“Obviously,” he replied, flashing him a mischievous smile. “Now stop standing there like a lump and help me.”
For the next hour, the two of them worked together, transforming the living room into what could only be described as a festive explosion. Every surface, corner, and shelf became a home for garlands, miniature reindeer, and snow globes.
George felt a wave of relief when they finally reached the bottom of the box. “We did it,” he said, flopping onto the couch.
“Not yet,” Dream countered, holding up a single strand of tinsel like it was a trophy. “This is the grand finale.”
While he busied himself draping the tinsel over the mantle, George noticed a small piece of paper folded neatly at the bottom of the box. Curious, he reached in and pulled it out, unfolding it to reveal what looked like a child’s letter.
At the top, written in clumsy blue crayon, were the words: “Dear Santa.”
The letter was decorated with uneven doodles of Santa Claus, candy canes, and what George assumed were meant to be reindeer. At the very bottom, the signature caught his eye: “From Dream.”
George’s lips curled into a smirk as he began reading the note.
Dear SANTA,
My name is Dream. I am six years old, and for Chrissmiss, I want to vizit the North Pole. My momma says I’m not old enuf to go this year, but I reely wanna see it. I have ben good, so can I go pleez?
From Dream
“What’s that?” Dream asked, walking over just as George finished reading.
He held up the letter, a teasing smile on his face. “The North Pole, huh? Big plans for six-year-old Dream.”
Dream blinked, then broke into a laugh as he took the letter from George’s hands. “Oh my God. I forgot all about this.” He studied it for a moment, shaking his head. “I can’t believe my mom kept this.”
“I guess it never made it to Santa,” George said lightly.
“Guess not,” he replied with a wistful smile. “Too bad—I was really looking forward to it.”
There was something in his tone, a quiet longing, that made George pause.
“Oh, yeah?” He questioned, leaning back against the couch. “What made you so obsessed with the North Pole?”
Dream’s face softened, the memories pulling a warm glow into his expression. “I wanted to see the magic,” he said quietly. “I thought if I could just be there, I’d understand how it all worked—how the reindeer fly, how Santa carries that giant bag of toys and gets to every house in one night. Stuff like that.” He shrugged, a little sheepish. “Silly kid things.”
George tilted his head, his gaze thoughtful. “It’s not silly. It’s sweet.”
He chuckled, handing the letter back. “Well, I didn’t get to go, but it’s fine. I grew up, and you figure out eventually that some things aren’t real.”
George watched as Dream stepped back to admire the now-completed living room. Every corner glowed with twinkling lights, and the air seemed to hum with holiday spirit.
“What do you think?” Dream asked, spinning around.
“It’s like a winter wonderland,” George said, genuinely impressed.
His face lit up with pride. “Couldn’t have done it without you.” He leaned down, brushing a quick kiss against George’s lips. “Now, I’m starving. Want something from the kitchen?”
“Sure,” George shrugged, watching Dream disappear down the hall.
He turned the letter over in his hands, the doodles and crayon marks bringing a small smile to his face. The idea hit him then, clear as day—a plan to make Dream’s childhood wish come true.
George was going to take Dream to the North Pole for Christmas. Well, not literally—the closest place to that was Antarctica, and after their chaotic visit there a couple years ago, George knew Dream wasn’t eager to repeat that experience. Instead, George decided he would bring the North Pole to Florida.
He decided the best way to make it happen was to transform the backyard of the Dream Team house into Santa’s workshop. Snow, reindeer, candy canes, and elves—it would have everything a six-year-old (and maybe a slightly skeptical adult) could ever imagine.
George started his research that same night, scrolling through photos of holiday displays, winter festivals, and even movie sets for inspiration. Once he had a vision in mind, he sketched out a rough layout and made a list of what they’d need: decorations, lights, props, and—of course—lots of fake snow.
The next morning, he called in reinforcements. Gia, Sam, Sapnap, and their manager, Ken, all agreed to help.
“You’re really going all out for this, huh?” Sapnap teased when they all gathered in the living room.
“Of course I am,” George replied. “It’s for Dream. It has to be perfect.”
He pulled out his list, glancing at his friends one by one. “Alright, here’s the plan. Gia, you’re in charge of decorations. Think candy canes, wreaths, garlands—anything that screams ‘North Pole.’”
Gia nodded, already jotting down notes. “Got it.”
“Sam, I’m putting you in charge of the lights. The place needs to glow—think Times Square-level brightness.”
Sam smirked. “Consider it done.”
“Sapnap,” George continued, “I need you to go to the store and find some plastic reindeer for the yard. You know, the kind that light up—”
“Plastic?” Sapnap interrupted, looking offended. “If you’re recreating the North Pole, you can’t settle for plastic. You need real reindeer.”
He just stared at him. “And where exactly do you think I’m going to find real reindeer in Florida?”
Sapnap shrugged, completely unbothered. “That’s not my problem. You wanted reindeer, and I’ll get you reindeer. Just leave it to me.”
George sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Do whatever you want, just—not anything stupid.”
“No promises.”
He turned to Ken. “Do you think you could play Santa?”
Ken grinned. “Absolutely.” He puffed out his chest and let out a deep, booming, “Ho ho ho!”
George raised an eyebrow. “Not bad.”
“Thank you,” Ken replied, tipping an imaginary hat.
“Alright,” George said, glancing back at his list. “I’m handling the snow. I’ve already got a company lined up to deliver it the night before Christmas Eve. In the meantime, I’m leaving you all in charge. Don’t mess it up.”
Ken gave a mock salute. “You can count on us, boss.”
He paused, scanning the room with a serious expression. “The most important thing,” he added, lowering his voice, “is to keep this a secret from Dream. If he finds out, the whole thing’s ruined.”
The group nodded in agreement, each of them silently vowing not to let the surprise slip.
As they dispersed to begin their respective tasks, George stayed behind for a moment, glancing out the window toward the backyard. He could already picture it: the twinkling lights, the frosted trees, the look of pure wonder on Dream’s face.
This wasn’t just about recreating the North Pole. It was about giving Dream something he thought he’d never have.
It was going to be perfect.
Christmas morning rolled around, and George had everything set. The North Pole transformation was ready to go—almost. All that was left was to keep Dream distracted long enough for their friends to finish the final touches in the backyard.
The living room was bathed in the soft glow of the Christmas tree, the faint smell of pine mingling with the comforting aroma of hot cocoa and freshly baked cookies. George, still half-asleep, shuffled into the room to find Dream already awake. He was curled up on the couch, a soft blanket draped over his legs, sipping hot cocoa from a snowman-shaped mug.
The twinkling lights from the tree reflected in Dream’s eyes, and he smiled brightly when he spotted George. “Merry Christmas,” he said, holding up another mug—this one shaped like a reindeer.
He grinned and took the mug, settling down next to him. “Merry Christmas to you, too. You’re up early.”
Dream shrugged, his smile softening. “I couldn’t sleep. I was too excited.” He gestured toward the stack of gifts sitting under the tree. “I’ve got something for you. You’ve been so amazing to me this year, and I wanted to make it special.”
“You didn’t have to do all this,” George said with a chuckle, setting his cocoa on the coffee table.
He gave him a playful nudge. “I wanted to. Now, open this one first.” He handed George a small, flat package wrapped in festive paper covered in tiny penguins wearing Santa hats.
George carefully peeled back the paper to reveal a framed photo from their first Thanksgiving together. The frame was decorated with little hand-drawn doodles—stars, hearts, and what looked like a very abstract turkey—and at the bottom were the words “I love you” written in Dream’s familiar handwriting.
“Dream…” George’s voice softened as he ran a finger over the frame. “This is… perfect. I love it.”
Dream’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink, but he smiled. “There’s more.”
He reached under the tree and pulled out a slightly larger box. George opened it to find a handmade scarf in a deep navy blue—his favorite color. The stitches were uneven, and there were a few stray threads sticking out, but it was clear how much effort Dream had put into it.
“You made this?” George asked, wrapping the scarf around his neck and smiling warmly.
Dream nodded, looking a little shy. “Yeah. I might’ve cursed at the yarn more times than I care to admit, but… it was worth it. It’s been getting colder here, and I thought you might need one.”
George laughed, leaning over to pull Dream into a tight hug. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
When he finally pulled away, Dream looked at him expectantly. “So, what about you? What did you get me?”
He stood up, his grin widening as he placed his empty mug on the table. “Well… it’s not exactly under the tree.”
Dream raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?”
“You’re going to need your car, your keys… and for you to drive,” George said with a mischievous glint in his eye.
His grin mirrored his. “Alright, then. Let me grab my shoes.”
As Dream left the room to grab his keys, George’s heart raced in anticipation. The morning had started perfectly, and if everything went as planned, the day would only get better.
The drive to the Christmas market was filled with soft holiday music playing from the radio and the occasional comment from Dream about how festive the streets looked. When they arrived, the market stretched before them, a winter wonderland tucked in the heart of Orlando. Stalls lined the streets, their roofs dusted with faux snow. Each one overflowed with handmade ornaments, sparkling garlands, and an array of sugary treats. Strings of fairy lights crisscrossed above them, casting everything in a warm, golden glow.
The scent of cinnamon and chocolate wafted through the crisp December air, mingling with the soft hum of carolers singing near the market square. George reached out, threading his fingers through Dream’s, and they strolled hand in hand.
“Wow,” Dream murmured, his eyes lighting up as he glanced around. “This place is magical.”
George smiled, his heart warming at Dream’s expression. “I thought you’d like it.”
They wandered past stalls, pausing every so often to admire the trinkets on display. One table was covered in rows of delicate ornaments, each hand-painted with intricate designs. George picked up a Christmas ornament shaped like a polar bear, examining its tiny red scarf and glittery finish.
“Okay, question,” George said, holding up the polar bear. He pointed to another ornament shaped like a penguin wearing a Santa hat. “This one, or the penguin?”
Dream tilted his head, considering. “The polar bear is cool, but the penguin is cuter.” He reached out, picking up the sparkly penguin and placing it in George’s hand.
He chuckled and set the polar bear back on the table. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s adorable.”
Dream smirked, his tone teasing. “Like you.”
George flushed, rolling his eyes but unable to hide his smile. “Whatever,” he muttered, tucking the ornament under his arm.
As they continued through the market, the cheerful atmosphere wrapping around them, George’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out and glanced at the screen. It was a text from Sapnap:
Couldn’t get the reindeer in time, but I got something even better!
Attached was an image. George clicked it open, and his jaw dropped. In the photo stood two llamas—yes, llamas—wearing fake antlers strapped to their heads. Behind them, Ken, fully dressed in his Santa costume, had his face buried in his hands.
George groaned inwardly and immediately started typing back:
??? That is in no way “better,” Sap. Just get the fake reindeer from the store.
The reply came within a minute:
Too late. I already paid.
Shaking his head, George let out an exasperated sigh, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.
“Who are you texting?” Dream asked, glancing over curiously.
He shook his head, forcing a tight smile. “Sapnap. He’s being… Sapnap.”
Dream raised an eyebrow. “What’s he up to this time?”
“Nothing you need to worry about,” George replied, giving Dream’s hand a squeeze. He didn’t want to risk giving away the surprise. “Let’s just enjoy our time together.”
He looked at him for a moment, as if debating whether to press further, but ultimately nodded. “Okay.”
They turned their attention back to the market. Dream pulled George over to a stall selling warm pretzels dusted with sugar and insisted they share one. As they walked, Dream occasionally pointed out things he thought were cute or funny, his excitement infectious.
But in the back of George’s mind, he couldn’t help picturing the llamas in antlers waiting in their backyard. How am I going to explain this to Dream? he thought, shaking his head with a smile.
For now, though, he focused on Dream’s laughter and the cozy warmth of the moment. The chaos could wait until later.
By the time they returned to the car, cheeks flushed and fingers tingling from the cold, Dream and George were all smiles. Their arms were loaded with bags filled with little treasures they’d picked out for their friends—ornaments, handmade candles, and an assortment of sweets from the market. The sun had dipped low on the horizon, casting the sky in hues of orange and lavender.
The drive home was filled with chatter, laughter, and the soft hum of holiday music. Dream couldn’t stop talking about the market, recounting every little detail that had made him smile. George listened, his heart full, knowing the best part of the day was still ahead.
As they pulled into the driveway, Dream grabbed a few bags from the backseat, glancing at George. “Thanks for today,” he said, his voice warm. “It was perfect.”
George smiled but didn’t respond, holding back a knowing grin as they approached the house. “It’s not over yet.”
When they stepped inside, Dream set the bags on the counter, pausing as he caught sight of something through the sliding glass doors that led to the backyard. He froze, his eyes widening as he took it all in.
The backyard had been transformed into a glittering wonderland. Twinkling fairy lights wrapped around every tree and bush, casting the yard in a soft, magical glow. Candy canes lined a sparkling path made of fake snow, leading to a large sleigh set in front of a bright red workshop façade. Sapnap’s “reindeer”—the llamas—stood proudly at the sleigh’s helm, their fake antlers bobbing slightly as they shifted. Behind them, Ken, fully decked out as Santa Claus, sat on a throne surrounded by piles of wrapped presents.
Their friends, dressed as elves in red and green costumes, stood near the workshop, grinning as they began to sing a familiar Christmas tune. Dream opened the door and stepped outside, his breath hitching at the sight. The cool evening air hit his face, but he barely noticed, too entranced by the scene before him.
“George…” His voice cracked, and he turned to look at him, tears glistening in his eyes.
George stood beside him, his expression soft and full of love. He slipped an arm around Dream’s waist, pulling him close. “You always said you wanted to see the North Pole,” he murmured. “So, I brought it to you. Merry Christmas, Dream.”
Dream’s laugh bubbled out, though it quickly dissolved into a sob. He threw his arms around George, holding him tight. “This is incredible. You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice shaking with emotion. “It’s everything.”
George hugged him back, pressing a kiss to Dream’s cheek. “You deserve it.”
He pulled back slightly, wiping at his eyes and shaking his head in disbelief. “How… how did you even pull this off?”
“I had help,” George admitted, gesturing toward their friends, who were now cheering and waving from the workshop. Sapnap struck a dramatic pose in front of the llamas, Gia adjusted the candy canes with a satisfied grin, and Sam gave a thumbs-up from near the lights he’d strung across the yard. Even Ken, still in full Santa mode, gave a jolly wave from his throne.
Dream let out a laugh, covering his mouth as he looked back at George. “You guys are insane. And Sapnap… llamas? Really?”
George groaned, laughing. “Don’t even get me started. He insisted it was ‘better.’”
“It is better,” Sapnap called out, overhearing them. “They’re festive llamas!”
Dream shook his head, laughing harder, but his gaze softened as he turned back to George. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”
“I’d do it a hundred times over,” George said, brushing a stray tear from Dream’s cheek. “Seeing you smile like that? Totally worth it.”
He leaned in, pressing his forehead to George’s. “I love you, George.”
“I love you, too.”
The moment was perfect—made even better when their friends joined in, pulling them toward the sleigh for photos and handing them mugs of steaming hot cocoa. The night unfolded in a blur of laughter, music, and warmth, Dream’s heart so full it felt like it might burst.
And as he looked around at the people he loved, surrounded by twinkling lights and the magic of the North Pole brought to life, Dream realized it wasn’t just the best Christmas he’d ever had—it was the best day of his life.