Work Text:
It the end of the night. Dream can feel it, can see it in the way people are migrating into little flocks and finding their friends and lovers. There's a haze of smoke and clouds in the air and the speakers have been overtaken by a soft indie playlist that burns in his bones and vibrates his chest. Dream is sitting on the floor, having found a place that wasn't sticky with alcohol. He's leant against the couch, and while the cushion behind him his vacant, it hopefully won't be for long.
There's people everywhere; it's less of a party and more of a lull now, but nobody is quite ready to go home. Dream feels warm and sweaty, and he's living off the buzz from whatever he was drinking an hour prior. He wasn't the first to admit it was nice, as Sapnap was sprawled over his own loveseat, the one and only Karl Jacobs tucked to his side as they scrolled through Instagram and his camera roll. Dream lolls his head around, cracking his neck and relaxing against the couch.
He zeroes in on George as soon as his head comes into view.
He looks good, dressed casually but perfectly. Dream remembers the way they left their dorm to walk here, to this random house that they learned of through Wilbur's various connections, how George walked out of the hallway in one of Dream's sweatshirts. His little smile when Dream had raised his brows told him it was intentional. Dream was ecstatic, and still is. George weaves through the throngs of people, those who are standing and slow dancing and those that are just having a good time. Dream just watches him.
George picks Dream out and his face splits in a soft smile. Dream can't stop one of his own from crawling across his face, and George steps over him to land on the sofa. The cushion springs squeak, and Dream leans forward to make room for his legs and feet. When George settles, his legs envelop the sides of Dream's shoulders and a soft hand lands on Dream's head.
"Keeping my seat safe, were you?" George's voice floats down, and suddenly the bass of the speakers is easily ignored.
Dream huffs out a laugh and pats George's calf. "Of course, I defended it with my highest honor. Did you find a drink?"
Something cold taps his collarbone, and Dream looks down to see pale fingers wrapped around a green can. "Brought you one too." Dream's chest swells with admiration, and they crack their cans respectively. George's hand leaves his head as he does, but it returns right away. His fingers are cold as they thread through Dream's hair, but Dream just hums and sips from his soda.
George doesn't say anything more, and Dream holds his breath as he leans back a little more. Pushing his luck. George just breathes above him and widens his stance, letting Dream rest his head on his knee. His jeans are soft against Dream's cheek, and Dream swears he can hear his heartbeat in his throat.
Calm down, calm down.
George runs his fingers through his hair again and Dream taps his nails against his can. Someone changes the music to something softer and mellow, and Dream can hear the front door slam. Skeppy and Bad walk through the living room, fingers tangled and goodbyes murmured. Skeppy looks dead on his feet, but grins dopily at Bad as they leave again. Dream chuckles, and George adjusts his feet on either side of his hips. Dream can hear him yawn, and turns his head around to look at him. The fingers leave his hair, and he misses them right away.
"You wanna head home?" George blinks at him as he speaks, looking considerably more drowsy now that he's sitting again. It's cute, really, and Dream makes the executive decision to start the journey home. He leans forward, pushes himself up on heavy hands and winces as his knees crack. Dream turns and offers a hand to George, who rubs at his face with his free hand as those fingers slide into Dream's.
He thinks they fit perfectly, but he can't ever tell George that.
Sapnap sees them get up, and waves a hand in their direction. Karl is passed out against his shoulder, probably drooling on Sap's hoodie but Dream knows he would never move him. Dream calls out a soft farewell to everyone, and gets one in return. Even the strangers say goodbye, and George just bobs his head as Dream leads him out of the living room. They pass the speaker on the floor, and Dream pulls George gently out of the way so he doesn't stumble over it.
Sam is standing by the door, making sure those who leave are doing so safely. Dream nods at him as George makes sure he has everything, and Sam glances down at their joined hands with a little grin. Dream flushes, and rubs the back of his neck. George is still holding his hand, and it's warm in his palm. He wonders if he can feel the patter of his heart in his thumb.
Dream holds the door for George, and they step into the dark night.
It's not terribly late, but there's nobody walking the streets and the buses sure aren't running. Dream inhales the chill of the air, and loves how it cools him down compared to inside the house. With all those bodies, it was bound to get stifling at some point. However, George shivers and Dream feels it in his hand.
"You cold?" Dream asks, and George shrugs. They walk down the steps of the house and out onto the sidewalk. Dream puts himself between George and the street, and he makes them pause just long enough to worm his hoodie off. Dream offers it to George, who just grins at the concrete and takes it. Dream's thin sweatshirt has nothing on the thickness of his favorite hoodie, and Dream hopes that his body heat was enough to make it comfortable for George.
He watches George wrestle with his sleeves under the hoodie, and offers his hand back when he gets settled properly. George doesn't hesitate, and their fingers lock together again. Dream loves it.
Their walk home is quiet, but Dream can feel George's gaze on him every few seconds. it's funny, because Dream spent most of the night watching George in the crowd, and now that they're alone, he can barely look at him. It get's to be too much at some point, when they're nearing the campus, and Dream turns his head.
"What, got something on my face?"
George jumps, stutters in his pace, but his wide eyes soften almost immediately. Dream's heart throbs. "No, just you."
"Just my handsome face, huh Georgie?" Dream teases, not expecting anything but a huff and maybe a shove. He just hopes that George doesn't disconnect their hands.
George surprises him though, as he usually does, and smiles something sweet and soft at Dream. "Yeah, just you." His voice is barely above a whisper, and it's Dream's turn to nearly trip. George just laughs and tugs him along, and Dream really needs to control his breathing around this boy. He smiles at the back of George's head, and falls back into place beside him.
He really is beautiful.
They shush each other as they get into the dorm building, muffling laughs as they walk past a tired looking RA and racing up the stairwell in ways that they shouldn't. George drops his hand to balance on the railing, but Dream can accept it because he gets a gleeful grin and bright eyes in return. George's face is screaming chase me and Dream does, just like he always has. Just like he always will. Even with the world at George's feet, he would give anything and everything to make him happy. He knows deeply that he could never compete, but he's gonna try his damndest to get up there too.
Geoge busts through the stairwell door on their floor with a shrill giggle, Dream right on his tail. He reaches for him, brushes his fingers against his hoodie, and snatches George's wrist to pull him back. Dream wraps his arms around George, pinning him back against his chest and laughing right in his ear. George wiggles but makes to move to escape, and Dream feels giddy.
He's aware that his lips brush George's ear as he speaks. "Got you now, Georgie. Whatcha gonna do?"
George grins - Dream can feel it against his own cheek - and leans back into the embrace. Dream's heart must be going off like a racehorse, and he hopes George can't feel it. The brunette turns his head, and Dream freezes as his mouth whispers over his cheekbone. George grins and lifts his hands to hold Dream's around him. "Hopefully I'll never get out."
God, he's ruined for anyone else.
"Yeah?"
"Mhm."
"Heh," Dream breathes, and walks them awkwardly towards the door. He doesn't want to let go of George, and George seems to have no complaints. He opens the door, and they usher themselves in. The door shuts, and George still hasn't left his arms.
Dream can't breathe. "George."
Said man turns in his arms. Dream stares down at him, feeling like he's grasping as straws and open. if George looked good in the lights and haze of the party, he looks godly under the lamp they left on beside the table, wrapped in Dream's hoodie and Dream's arms. "Dream."
His arms slide up Dream's chest, tracing the lines of his shirt and collarbone. Dream shivers under his fingers, and George looks heavenly. Dream's hands settle on his waist, feeling the layers he has on and the heat that he's producing. He feels like begging as George slides closer. He wants to speak, he wants to pull him closer and kiss him until Dream's name is the only thing left on his lips.
Dream doesn't want to scare him away.
"Dream," George says again, and those fingers reach up into his hair. George's gaze is open, vulnerable, and Dream prays and hopes that he's right.
He leans down, slower than he ever thought he could move. George doesn't blink and his soft breathes hit Dream's cheek. One of Dream's hands slides up his side, the left side, and just under the pressure of his thumb he can feel rhythmic beating. It's fast. Dream's breath hitches, and he wonders if the pulse in his wrists matches George's breathing.
George shuffles closer. "Dream," he murmurs, begging, and Dream could never compete.
He closes the distance, presses his mouth against George's. He shudders as those fingers tighten and relax in his hair. George inhales sharply, and Dream feels his body arch against him, dragging him closer and pulling him under. Dream keeps him there, wrapping a large arm over the back of his waist and slides their lips together.
He's so soft, and as Dream makes a soft noise against his mouth and George offers one back, enthusiastic but quiet. They part for half a second, just long enough to look at each other, and the fleeting though of I don't deserve this crosses Dream's mind before George is whispering his name, his real name, against his lips, and he can't find it in himself to care.
Dream pushes forwards, walks George back and reaches out to find the wall behind him. He cushions George's head as he presses him against it - they haven't even gotten their shoes off - and George brushes one of his hands down the front of Dream's chest. Dream feels euphoric; it comes out in his kisses, as he presses them to George's mouth, his jaw, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. He gets George laughing and smiling, and their next kiss is hardly a real one. Dream grins into it, laughs against George's mouth and cups his jaw in his hand.
They part with one last brush. It's one of the best that they've had, just the barest hint of contact and fluttering eyes. Dream has given up on controlling his breathing, hiding the pace of his heart. He's bare, open for George to take and hurt and keep, please, he hopes that George will want to keep him. Dream licks his lips, and slowly opens his eyes to find George staring up at him already.
"I-" George clears his throat, "I thought you were never going to do that."
Dream tilts his head and brushes his nose against George's cheek. He's addicted to the contact. "I didn't think you wanted me."
"Tough luck, idiot, because I do." George's words are harsh but his tone is softer than their blankets, and it's even more cushioned by the constant rubbing of George's thumbs against Dream's jawline. "I didn't know how to tell you."
Dream hums, and kisses the fingers that stray close to his mouth. George smiles. "Well, we figured it out now, didn't we?"
"I guess we did. Impatient, aren't we?"
Dream snorts, and pulls away from George only to start toeing his shoes off. George does the same. "I wouldn't call loving you from the first year of university impatient, Gogy, but go off, I guess."
A hand smacks at Dream's chest, and Dream grabs it to tug him in. George is glaring at him, but even that is stupidly soft and Dream melts under it. "You're so stupid. Let's go to bed, it's late."
"Anything, for you."