Dream thinks about that day’s MCC longer for that he probably should. He doesn’t know if it’s because of the glitches or the low placement, but either way, it’s stuck in his mind and he can’t get rid of it. It would be easy to blame it all on the unfairness of it, he could brush it off and say he would have done well if he hadn’t been thrown off. The thing is, he shouldn’t have let anything throw him off in the first place. It’s hard to remember that it’s just a game when losing feels this shitty. He tweets out something brief, wishing everyone love, even though the event ended hours ago. Maybe he should have done that sooner, but he was too busy wallowing. God, he feels even more stupid for being upset about it than he does his actual playing. Then again, it’s tough enough to lose, let alone when there are a hundred thousand people watching you and cheering you on.
“You’re thinking too hard about this,” George says, laying on his bed and letting Dream’s nervous fingers card through his hair because of course, he is. He’s always there when Dream needs him and he’s trying very hard not to take that for granted right now. He looks down at his boyfriend and offers a sad smile to which he only responds, “Always so in your own head.”
“Can you blame me?” Dream sighs quietly, leaning back against his pillows while George shifts to lay his head on his chest. It’s comfortable, but God knows Sapnap will come barging in any moment to weasel his way in between the two of them. He’s not complaining, but it’s hard enough to let one person into his space at the moment, let alone two. He’s frankly just surprised he hasn’t tried to push George away yet. It’s hard to listen to someone who loves you when you just want to feel like shit for a moment. He’s trying to be better about that stuff, though, and he has gotten better with it. Today was just… rough. He thinks George knows that, too.
“Yes,” is George’s response with a quiet chuckle as he reaches up to brush his palm against Dream’s jaw gently. “There will be a hundred MCC’s that you’re in. You’re not going to come out on top every time. Besides, someone has to keep you humble. God knows your ego needs it.”
He rolls his eyes at this, but it’s all lighthearted. “Oh, come on, now. You can’t tell me you’re not just a little upset, too. It was a bad game. We could have done so much better.”
George shifts so he’s leaning over Dream, hands pushed against the mattress to keep him stable as he gives his boyfriend a knowing look. “We could have, we didn’t, we will next time.”
The blond groans at this, reaching up to wrap his arms around George and pull him down against his chest despite the boy’s laughter. He squeezes him tight, but there are no complaints from the other. “We won’t be on the same team next time and you know it. There’s no way Scott is letting us have this again.”
“I don’t care, I’ll always be cheering you on,” George speaks through bubbles of laughter emitting from his throat. It’s sappy and sickly sweet and Dream can’t help but press a kiss to the grown-out dark hair atop the boy’s head, holding him as close as he possibly can. He really doesn’t know what he would do without George. “Unless we’re facing each other in Dodgebolt, then it’s every man for himself.”
“You’re an idiot,” he jeers, but it’s laced with that intimate softness that’s only reserved for George. He really doesn’t know any other way to speak to him when they’re laid like this. To give George anything but utter gentleness would be blasphemy. He looks down at him, brushing a lock of hair out his eyes, but lets his thumb linger against his forehead for just a moment, relishing in the warmth that comes with skin on skin even for a second.
“You love me,” George says and all Dream can do is nod and smile because the boy on top of him is already leaning forward to press their lips together. It’s warm and slow and everything Dream needed. Just a reminder that no matter what, he’s always going to be enough for George. He lets himself relish in the moment, forgetting about anything that was occupying his mind because all he wanted to do was breathe in George and breathe out peace. That was just what he planned on doing. His fingers roam through the boy’s hair, holding him securely, but not enough that he couldn’t pull away if he wanted to. They’re both fighting back smiles as they pepper kisses against each other’s lips, the world having melted away around them.
“I do love you,” Dream whispers in between kisses, punctuating each word with another one, “So. So. Much.”
George laughs at this, but there’s nothing mocking about it, just muted affection. He leans forward and presses a kiss to the tip of Dream’s nose, letting his lips linger on the skin for just a moment. He leans forward again, this time a kiss lands on Dream’s forehead, and then his cheeks, and his closed eyelids, until Dream can’t help but laugh and pull him closer to him once more. George’s head nestles in the crook of Dream’s neck and collarbone, his hair brushing against Dream’s tan skin.
“I love you, too.” The words are muffled, but Dream can feel the vibrations against his skin and through his bones, feeling every word of it in the way George peppers soft kisses against the skin where his lips rest. Dream’s hand rests on the small of his back, just underneath the hem of his t-shirt, letting his fingertips soak in the warmth of the pale skin beneath it. They don’t say those words often; they usually don’t have to. The love in their actions is always understood. Dream will edit a video for George or George will sit in Dream’s room while during meaningless tasks just to help him concentrate. He feels the love in the way George lets his hair grow out because he knows Dream loves to run his fingers through it. The way Goerge will wrap his arms around his waist while he cooks them breakfast. He feels it in everything they do, but that doesn’t make the words any less nice to hear.
A smile is on his face before he knows it. His other hand holds the back of George’s head protectively as he leans to the side to press a kiss to the first part of the boy he can reach. It’s amazing how just sitting in silence, feeling George’s quiet breathing against his neck, can do so much to ease his mood.
It’s not long before the other falls asleep, but Dream lies awake. He can’t help but think about how lucky he is. He lives with his two best friends, one of which became the love of his life, while working his dream job. George is right, there will be a hundred championships to win and lose, but there are only going to be so many moments like this. Moments where the world slows for a moment to let them breathe.
Sapnap comes by later, pausing in the doorway to ask if either of them wants to join him for an alt stream celebrating his win, but his words are cut off with a slow smile as he looks at the scene before him. Dream asleep with George on his chest, the two still holding onto each other despite knowing neither of them is ever letting go of the other. Sure, he’s going to let them have their moment of peace, but not without taking a picture for blackmail reasons he’s sure he’s going to abuse later. He shakes his head softly as he walks back towards his own room, knowing everyone had a long day.
Dream wakes up later, the moonlight shining down in slivers through the blinds as George breathes softly. He knows he doesn’t need to say it, but with his eyes on the boy, he whispers into the night, “ I love you, I love you, I love you.”