Chapter Text
The day out with wilbur had been fun. George and Will had shown Dream around to their favorite London locations, and the three ended the day with takeout dinner on the beach. However, as much as it would pain him to admit, Dream was kind of glad the day was coming to an end.
As cocky and arrogant as he portrays himself online and in front of his friends over calls, real life was a whole different story. He couldn’t hide his every miniscule reaction, and had to worry about his body language and posture, not to mention the fact that neither of the people he was hanging out with had ever seen him before.
So when George suggested he and Dream return to his house to watch a movie and chill out, Dream was infinitely relieved. Don’t get him wrong - Wilbur’s a great guy - he just didn’t know him like he did George, and Dream still felt like he was putting up some weird front when he interacted with Will.
The two began to part ways with Will, who acted cool and charming as always as he said his goodbyes. Dream watched in a silent, tiny awe at the confidence in Wilbur’s every movement. When he languidly brushed his hair back, secured it under his beanie, and gave a playful smirk to tie it all together, it was like he knew Dream was paying attention to every detail. Not that he’d admit that, of course.
Finally, Wilbur turned to walk home, and George and Dream followed suit, falling into a comfortable silence as they made their way toward George’s apartment. It wasn’t really awkward, but it was the first time in Dream’s whole UK trip that he really didn’t know what to say. He figured it was best to just let the moment live itself out, and that forcing conversation would make it worse. George was never the type to need constant chatter, and neither was Dream. They talked when they needed, and when they wanted, and that’s why they worked so well together. However, this walk was making Dream hyper-aware of how little he really had talked this trip. He’s usually spitting out random sentences left and right when he talks with his friends online, why was he being so weird now that it was in real life? Maybe-
“So,” Damn, could George hear what he was thinking? “What do you want to watch, when we get back?” The look the older gave up to him, as he turned his head only part of the way towards Dream and peered at him in a questioning manner, seemed to confirm the younger’s suspicion. George could always tell when Dream was thinking too hard about something, and he supposed that doesn’t change when he’s right next to him. In fact, it’s probably easier, now.
Dream let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, and looked away from the prying eyes of his friend. “I dunno, George,” Dream looked up towards the setting sun, like a kid looks at their mom when the doctor asks them a question, hoping it would answer for him. George waited patiently. “Maybe… something stupid, and funny, that I don’t have to think about.” George pondered this for a moment. Dream, taking his friend’s silence to be an accusation of sorts, felt the need to explain himself. “Look, I’m tired, okay.”
George met his eyes again, and smiled. “No, yeah, I get it.” He looked back off into the distance ahead of them, George’s building just coming into view. “I’m just trying to come up with something, I can’t think of any movies like that off the top of my head.”
An idea came to Dream, and he turned to George excitedly. “Have you ever seen Ferris Bueller?” He asked, playfully tugging his friend’s upper arm.
George looked down at where Dream’s hand met his skin, and then back to dream, chuckling. “No, I don’t think so,” (“Dude!”) “But I’ve always been meaning to! I hear it’s good.”
“Uh, yeah!” Dream shook his head. “Good? That movie is great. It’s been out for like forty years, I can’t believe you haven’t seen it.”
George scoffed at his friend’s accusations. “Well, sorry that a forty year old movie isn’t exactly relevant to my life anymore.”
Dream laughed. “Shut, up George.”
And just like that, the pensive atmosphere Dream was sure existed, had never even been there.
The two finally arrived at George’s building after some more playful banter and friendly shoves, careful not to go too far and accidentally send the other crashing to the pavement. It was nice to be able to so easily carry their friendship into the physical world, the constant screens between them a thing of the past.
However, with that being said, it was still a surprise to Dream when George linked their arms together after stepping into the elevator. Pushing each other around on a walk seemed like a long ways away from linking elbows on the lift. Dream tried to keep his quiet internal panic butterflies like they were - internal - as he looked down at George to detect any changes in his expression or demeanor. However, the older had simply pulled out his phone to browse twitter like this was nothing, scrolling through his timeline as nonchalantly as he had laced his arm through Dream’s. So, as any normal person would do, Dream thought, he would hide his panicking by mirroring his friend’s composure, and open up twitter. However, for this new act of a composed person he was putting on, something that was not in the script was the loud beep of the door, telling the two they'd arrived at George’s floor, and most definitely causing Dream to jump. He was expecting George to call him out, but the older just shook his head and smiled, stepping through the doors to pull Dream towards his apartment.
Once inside, the two settled down on George’s comfy sectional couch, deciding the best way to watch the movie was for Dream to log into his Amazon account, where he already owned the movie, on the TV.
Dream finally let himself really relax, stretching his legs out onto the ottoman in front of both boys, and letting out a necessary yawn. He let his arms fall to the back of the couch, unintentionally pulling that cheesy date move on his friend. He silently wondered if it made George freak out as much as their interlocked arms had done to Dream. He kind of hoped it did.
A while into the movie, George had gotten up to get them some snacks and drinks. While he was gone, Dream found himself getting gradually more tired, the stimulation of George’s presence no longer there to force him awake, and when he returned, Dream was too sleepy to eat anything the older had brought back. George still placed the items on the coffee table, however, and reclaimed his spot under his friend’s arm, snuggling in closer to the sleepy boy this time.
The movie played on, neither fully present enough to follow its plot, and by some boldness, Dream found himself snaking his right hand up into his friend’s hair, lightly playing with his locks and massaging his scalp. George’s head lolled back toward his hand, so Dream took this as a green light to keep going, and continued gently pulling his hand through the strands.
After a few minutes of this, it seemed like the act of composure George was putting on was beginning to wear thin as well. Dream continued pulling at his hair, and George didn’t have the heart to tell him that he just happened to guess the exact sort of affection George loved the most. Instead, George let his head roll into the space between Dream’s face and shoulder, pressing his face into the soft skin of his neck.
This was… another action to completely throw Dream off his bearings. Not only did it completely fluster him, having George so close and in such an intimate position, it also complicated the angle his wrist was at for playing with for playing with his hair, so he decided to just stop the action completely.
This was not the action George was hoping for, the older letting out a small whine at the loss of contact, pulling his head up and away from Dream to make eye contact. He meant to glare at Dream in an accusatory manner, to say “Why’d you stop doing that, it felt nice,” but when he met Dream’s eyes, saw his expression of pure flusteredness, all coherent thought left his brain.
Dream was not a strong man. Sure, he was damn good at Minecraft, and at coding, and at the other things he’d poured his soul into hours of practice on, but when it came to this, to having his best friend in his arms, staring up at him as the TV illuminated the curve of his cheekbones, what else was he supposed to do besides whisper out, “George…” with all his voice he could muster? And what was he supposed to do when George said nothing in return, eyes simply trailing down to gaze at his lips, then slowly working their way back up to meet his again, other than lean in to meet the older halfway?
Their lips met for a brief moment, Dream’s hand still resting at the back of George’s neck where it had previously fallen, and George’s right hand reaching up to cup Dream’s face, just as the two broke apart.
George was the one looking extremely flustered, now, averting Dream’s eyes as he looked down at the younger.
“I-”
“We-”
The two both started at the same time, George chuckling and dropping his hand away from his friend’s face and turning again to face the TV. The movie was still playing, surprisingly.
Dream disregarded it and stared down at his friend. It was completely like George to want to avoid talking about big things or changes, but Dream could see in his features that something was going on inside his head as he blankly stared at the screen. Instead of pressing at it, like he normally would on a call, he decided to let it sit, and let the older sit with his thoughts for a moment.
Of course, George being George, not two minutes had passed before he decided that sitting a comfortable distance from Dream wasn’t enough, and snaked his arms around his taller friend’s middle, pulling him in closer.
Now it was time to pry. “So,” Dream started, placing a stabilizing hand at the base of George’s neck yet again, “That happened.”
George just groaned and shoved his face into the crook of Dream’s neck yet again in embarrassment.
Dream let out a light chuckle and moved to pull George’s head up so he could face him. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” George looked to the side, avoiding Dream’s curious eyes. “I just… I can’t believe you’re real, and you’re just here with me. It seems fake.”
Dream watched as George’s eyes met his, then carefully studied his features, moving over every curve and crease of his face, like he was memorizing it in case he never got to see it again. The younger moved his hand back into George’s hair as they stared at each other, resuming his gentle movements. “Well,” Dream started, lowering his gaze with a small smirk, “Then what do I need to do to make you believe?”
“This is,” George’s eyes rolled back as he leaned into Dream’s touch yet again, letting out pleased noises at having his hair played with. “Ah, this is a good start.”
Dream smiled as he watched his friend’s face distort in pleasurable contentment. He never would have guessed that George was so fond of this type of contact.
After a few moments passed, Dream paused his ministrations yet again. “Well,” he started, George reopening his eyes to meet his yet again, “I was thinking something more like…”
Dream used the hand laced through the older’s hair to pull him up, and into a strong kiss. It was similar to their first, in its gentleness, but this time there was a newfound confidence in both parties. Dream used his other hand to wrap around George’s waist and pull him to straddle the taller, while George bunched his fists in Dream’s shirt to pull him impossibly closer.
Soon, the gentleness began to creep away, however, as both boys began to figure out what they liked and what the other liked. George deepened the kiss, biting the younger’s lips and gaining entry to his mouth, the two panting every time they broke apart for air. Dream looked up at his friend’s form, breathing heavy at his friend, who was struggling to compose himself, eyes screwed shut and cheeks burning pink. Dream let out a breathy whisper of, “Fuck,” at the sight, completely enderaed by the older’s features. He pulled George back in to meet his lips yet again.
Dream realized the power he had, having George’s hair intertwined in his fingertips and the older boy having such an affection for the sensation. Every time Dream tugged on the older’s hair, he’d let out a small moan into his mouth, and it was almost addicting.
Eventually, Dream snaked the arm around George’s waist up and under his white t-shirt, feeling his sticky skin and pulling him in for a gentle hug, as they both took a minute to catch their breath.
George rested his head on Dream’s shoulder, panting with cheeks redder than ever, and the younger in a similar situation, taking a long breath at the base of George’s neck to breathe in his scent, and to relax.
The two breathed in sync for a minute or so.
George was the first to speak up.
“I’m so fucking glad you came to England.”
Dream let out a breathy laugh, and pulled George closer. “Yeah, me too.”