wishitweresummer · 1 year ago
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Re-uniting in Las Vegas (Dream x GeorgeNotFound)
(A Drabble about George’s stubble…the gubble.)
Word count: 138
“Be quiet, idiot!”, George hissed and pressed farther into Dream’s neck. The giggles only bubbled louder out of Dream.
“That tihickles!”, he whined. “Your stubble!”.
“You like it?”. George smirked and nudged his chin in between Dream’s shoulder and neck, making him squeak.
“Yes! But stop!”.
“You just said you liked it!!”.
“It’s cute!! But don’t tickle me!!”.
George dove under the blankets in a flash and Dream squealed as he felt that stupid chin nudging against his collarbone. He grabbed him and in an instant, he had a giggling George pinned under him.
“Nononono!!”.
“You little brat. You think you’re funny huh?”, he asked with a smirk and dropped his face into George’s neck. The boy burst into squeaky laughter as Dream nuzzled expertly. “This is a real beard, you little idiot.”.
“Dreheheheheaaam!!!”.
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fluffallamaful · 2 years ago
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c!dnf is heartbreaking, lol. Dream takes away George’s kingship to protect him after someone tries to assassinate him and George takes it as a sign that Dream doesn’t think of him as a friend/loved one anymore, George can never visit Dream in prison despite constantly waiting outside and always holding onto Dream’s shield no matter what, he has dreams of burning the whole SMP to the ground and killing everyone and everything because fuck it, what does it matter anymore, and is just generally devastated by his lack of agency in anything — all the while Dream’s whole plan is, on some level, for George’s sake. (One Big Happy Family.) (George is at the very top of his planning board in the prison. George has never left his mind, not really.)
Anyway, c!dnf headcanons, you say? How about in the Pet Dream AU, blob!Dream spends a good portion of his time with George as his owner (second only to Quackity) and is constantly struggling to get close to him while letting out happy chirps whenever he so much as gets a glimpse of him in public. George actually plays hard-to-get with the little thing whenever it chases him around, even if he can’t stop laughing the whole time. (He kicks it out of his house a few times, only to wake up to it snuggling into his chest and purring.) (Whenever the blob is being annoying he responds by wrecking its tummy. This is not a deterrent in any way whatsoever.)
fzyxyshs yes yes cdnf is literally so unbreaking like it’s so beautifully tragic and perfect ☹️ i feel like i don’t get to discuss them enough on my blog so i’m so happy 😭 they just are the ones that drive each other up the wall. they would destroy their own worlds for each other
(discussion belowowww)
🦙🦙🦙…
AND SO NATURALLY YOU PUT HIM INTO THE PET AU IM GOING TO CRY 😖😖😖😖 blob dream just being so needy for george’s attention :(( and so unable to hide his reactions when he even just sees gogy?? i’m feckin imagining them playing hide and seek?? but with blob dream getting too distressed if he can’t find george after a certain amount of time and george unhiding out of sympathy??
i love the idea of him playing hard to get as well. like he just enjoys messing with the fact that the little white blob at his door is so desperate to see him. like shutting the door in his tiny pathetic face is just amusing. the squeak of dismay that he hears through the wooden door. i also love the idea of him trying to give him tickles to make the little blob give him some space. except that this only makes dream even more clingy
like you know those videos of people throwing their cats or sliding them across the floor and the cats coming back for them to do it again? i can imagine george doing that with blob dream and tickles. like say he’s trying to concentrate on a book or crafting or something,, and blob dream keeps nuzzling into his hands and getting in his way… he’ll just like, grab the blob, wiggle his finger on his tummy until his squeaks of joy start turning into little wheezes, and then just roll him away. of course a few seconds later dream will be back for more though hehe
🦙🦙🦙…
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povcherry · 3 years ago
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The Love Test | DNF
Dream and George take a test to see if they are in love with their best friend
The intense red text was prominent on his screen. Frustratingly, the one time Dream agrees to playing bedwars with George and Hypixel is down.
Dream lent back in his chair, hands behind his head staring up at the ceiling. His room was dark, the only light shone from his monitors. Patches wrapped around his legs. A deep sigh left George, as he lay his head on his desk in exasperation, an empty subway wrapper by his face, the time on his monitor read 2:17 am, yet he wasn't tired. After being on calls almost consecutively with Dream for essentially a year, he had managed to sync his sleep schedule up with him, already in Florida time prepared for when he goes to live with Dream and Sapnap.
George was disheartened. He was looking forward to playing with Dream. They were both normally either too tired or busy editing or working to go on minecraft for fun, and not just for a YouTube video. But now that they couldn't play bedwars, they were bored and unsure of what to do. They only called each other so that they could play minecraft, but that wasn't an option anymore.
"What do you want to do now then?" Dream asks, his voice far away from the mic, so much so that George nearly missed what he said. He hesitated, staring at Dreams discord profile picture light up.
"We could..." He stalled, drawing out his words. He wasn't the best at making decisions, he was much to indecisive. "Do you want to stream GeoGuessr?" He suggested, silently hoping Dream would say no. He didn't really want to do anything, only talk to Dream for hours on end.
"Not really. My brain is too slow for that level of concentration." That earned a giggle from George, putting a small smile on Dreams face. He loved that sound. "How about we go in my merch vc? Me and ni- Sapnap had fun last time just listening to music?"
George was hesitant. The last time he went in Dreams merch voice call was during the sleep over with Sapnap and Dream. That ended up in a disaster of butterflies and George having to turn his phone off for a couple of hours just to distract himself from the 'dreamnotfound' mayhem they had caused yet again on twitter. He felt giddy just thinking about it, Dream whispering into the mic, loudly cursing when George beat him at 8ball. It made him dizzy thinking about it... thinking about him.
George didn't hate it though- the attention from Dream and the fans. Despite all the jokes and innuendos that they both do to mess with their fans, George knew there was some truth to it all. A deeper meaning to being called an idiot. The endearing term that Dream loved to use oh so much. George felt fluttery, wanting to be called an idiot at this moment.
"George?" He had been silent for a while, reminiscing.
"What would we do on there?"
"Just talk. Or listen to music. Whatever you want to do, George".
Without thinking, George clicked onto the icon for Dreams server. "Do you need to add me to the call?" He asked, unsure about how the podcasts worked.
"Yeah, I need to quickly tell my mods to open it first."
Within minutes, they where in the call, hundreds of people pouring in immediately, spamming the chat with things like 'GEORGE?!' and blue and green hearts. George stifled a giggle, nerves taking over him. Despite doing streams for a living with tens of thousands of people watching him, there was something more intimate with calling Dream in a private server.
"Hello" Dream broke the silence, welcoming all the fans. He chuckled, looking at the chat, "Yes, George is here today. Hypixel was down and we had nothing to do"
"Hi" George was unsure what to say, scratching his neck in awkwardness. It wasn't this weird when he was streaming. At least then they had a plan and chat was relatively easy to read. He was doubtful that this call would end well, what with his ignorance to some innuendos and jokes involving DreamNotfound.
"We thought we would just pop on here. We're kind of bored." Dream stated, unable to see what people where spamming in the #podcast chat. "I can't see what you guys are saying, i'll probably just read my twitch chat."
Half an hour passed and George was getting hungry and bored, nothing eventful had really happened so far except for Dream explaining his setup and chat freaking out over his galaxy mouse pad.
"I want food but all that's in my fridge is butter... oh and the BTS sauces and... uhm expired milk" George complained, looking through his fridge while still on the call.
Dream chucked, "Why do you have expired milk in your fridge?"
"Not the point, I just want food"
"Well get some food then" Dream counteracted. George sighed and rolled his eyes, sitting back down in his chair. His stomach rumbled loudly, calling out to his hunger.
"I'm going to order McDonald's." And with that George muted his mic, found the McDonald's number and ordered his food, in the background, he could hear Dream.
"Should i do a quiz?... yeah? Link some in the podcast chat." There was a long silence. George, long ordered his food, stayed muted, listening to Dream talk to his chat. He found it so endearing the way Dream spoke to them, as though they where a family. His voice soft and gentle as he scrolled through the chat looking for a quiz.
"Ooh, this looks interesting... oh, 'Am I In Love With My Best Friend?'. Sounds... interesting" George stopped. Everything seemed to slow down. Eyes wide as he looked at the screen infront of him, Dreams discord icon lighting up as he chuckled nervously. He wasn't actually going to do it was he? The room was getting hot for George, he wasn't sure whether he wanted to delve into the idea of being in love with his best friend, let alone his best friend being in love with him.
He quickly unmuted, ready to call Dream out on what he was doing, but Dream beat him to it.
"George, i'm going to do the 'Am I In Love With My Best Friend?' quiz" He laughed, opening up the link and reading out the first question. "do you catch yourself looking at your best friend?"
George stalled. They had face timed multiple times in the past, Dream only letting George see his eyes upwards, but George always found it hard for him to look away. He got lost staring at his best friends eyes. George quickly messaged Dream asking for the link for the quiz, if Dream was going to do it, so would George.
"Dream, check dm's" He rushed.
"Huh, what, why?" Dream asked, busy trying to still his own heart beat. He had always known at the back of his mind that he had romantic feelings for George, whether that is because he was just touched starved and was desperate, or because he genuinely wanted more than just a friendship with George, suppressing his feelings as to not ruin anything between them.
"Just read it." George urged, getting apprehensive, unsure whether he should just delete the comment and over analyse everything Dream says.
But before he knew it, the link to the quiz had been sent to George, a small smiley face underneath it from Dream. George was about to reply with a '?' to the smile, but Dream spoke up again.
"I just put 'once in a while', i mean, it's not like im never looking at you but i don't do it like.. all the time." George clicked all the time. He couldn't get enough of Dreams warm amiable eyes. His eyes were a kind of green that speaks to the soul of nature, of fresh wands of grass and new buds, and his eyes were that bright colour, bold and beautiful.
"Right," he snickered, " next question, 'are they the first person you call when something happens?' uhm... yeah, i guess. But not always, i mean i would call my mom first." He laughed, ignoring the fact that George was silent. George always called Dream if something was wrong. He wasn't in contact with his parents, Sapnap wasn't the most mature when it came to serious things, yes he was a great friend and he would be there for George if he needed, but Dream came first. George put Dream before everyone, at time even before himself.
"George?" Dream disrupted his thoughts.
"Hmm?"
"You're being so quiet, everyone is asking if you're asleep" George looked at chat, Sure enough, between all the green and blue hearts, there where people spamming Georges name and sleep.
"Oh uhm no, it is 3 am though. Kind of tired." He said, anxiously looking at the next question, mouse already hovering over 'it's nice if i can'. George didn't wake up thinking about Dream, not always anyway. Just if they had fallen asleep on call together, or if they were recording a video that day.
"You should sleep." His voice had softened. He too was looking at the same question. Thinking about George staying up just for him made him feel giddy, but he also didn't want George to be sleep deprived.
George held back a smile. "I'm good, we're in sync bb" he snickered, knowing that would get a rise out of the chat. He could practically hear Dream roll his eyes in exasperation.
"Oh come on" He laughed, his voice low and raspy as he started to read out the next question. He couldn't get through it without laughing, however. "'Do you get jealous if he or she has a boyfriend or girlfriend?' Oh come on! I mean..." He started, George's scoff cut him off. "What?" Dream laughed.
"Nothing" George giggled
"To be fair.. no, but... i mean, wouldn't anyone?"
"Not really." George counteracted.
"Well, no. But! But! But! It would be one of those things where it's like, awe, now he's gonna be spending time, like, doing that, instead of like, with us. Like with like, me and sap. So, I'll put maybe a little. Right? Maybe a little.?" Dream stuttered, trying to defend his reasoning while George just giggled at his flusteredness.
George had already clicked 'ugh its the worst' already. He remembered when Dream had told him Sapnap was moving in with him. Now, George knew his best friends. He knew there was nothing going on between Dream and Sapnap, but something about them living together tickled George the wrong way. He was pissed off, to say the least. George wasn't normally jealous, but when it came to Dream, he became a different person. He almost didn't want to share Dream with anyone else... George wanted Dream all to himself.
"Dream, no one is arguing with you..." George whispered endearingly, a small smile painted across his lips.
The next few questions were uneventful. Dream still defended his answers despite no body calling him out on them. The chat was a blur of left ear jokes and and blue and greens. George answered 'yes' on the majority of the questions.
" Do you have dreams about them? Im- Okay! That's unfair, like, oh my god. Okay, I'll put sometimes." Dream rushed, desperately wanting to move onto the next question. He didn't want to tell chat, and especially George, about the dreams he has. No body knew about the desperation Dream has when he dreams about George. The want and longing to touch George in many ways than one. The heartache Dream feels when he wakes up because he knows the happiness his feels in his dreams could never be recreated.
"What?" George once again giggled. He was starting to have fun now. Seeing Dream embarrassed made George feel slightly better about his answers, but at this rate he was afraid the quiz would tell him he's so hopelessly in love with his best friend that there was no hope for him. "What do you dream about me?"
"You- you've had- you're- you're an idiot, you've had dreams! You've had one hundred pe- you've told me about dreams you've had!" He stammered, struggling to get his words out correctly without revealing too much. He was starting to get hot, the air conditioning in his room seemed to do nothing, the 'GNF' jumper he was wearing was suffocating him. He was suddenly finding it hard to breath under the weird pressure of these questions he had no obligation answering.
"What type of dreams, hmm?" George teased. He had his head resting in his hands leaning on the desk, taking in everything Dream was saying. George, of course had clicked 'all the time' about dreaming about Dream. Dream was on his mind 24/7.
"Oh don't even start with me, i know you've had dreams about me. You told me you've like.. texted me in your dreams or something. You.. you definitely have, anyway..." The two argued for the next few questions, and it was all smooth sailing for both Dream and George, until it came to the big one. The one that caused George to almost throw up the McDonald's that he had eaten a half hour ago.
Dream went silent. George could almost hear Dreams heart beating through the mic. He knew why, too. He saw the question. George had been dreading this. He chose to stay silent, not wanting to draw attention to himself.
"Do you ever think about what it would be like to kiss your best friend?" Dream was silent for almost thirty seconds. He felt sick. The amount of times he had wondered what Georges lips felt like. Whether or not they were made for him. Perfectly molded to fit Dreams own. He dreamt about them constantly. The soft touch of lips. He was beyond salvageable. "Uhm, n-no. Of course not."
"Why did you take so long to answer?" George was apprehensive. He wondered whether Dream thought about kissing him as much as he did. George so desperately wanted to, he wanted to feel them on his own lips, wanted to know what Dream tasted like, how he smelt. He was forlorn.
"I'm just going to put, well... i'm going to put.. well there's no good answers. I'm just going to put 'yes but it would be like kissing my mom'". He lied, his mouse had been hovering over 'at least a few times a day', unsure whether to click it or not, but he knew the truth. He wanted to kiss George more than he ever wanted to do anything ever.
The rest of the quiz, George kept silent. If he opened his mouth, he would confess his love on the spot. He had finished all the questions, revealing a 32%. He was totally in love with his best friend. Desperately, pathetically and hopelessly in love. He needed help.
"Okay, last question" Georges ears pricked up at this, he was happy it was almost over. He needed to talk to Dream in private, even if it killed him. "Do you see them in your future?... of course. A lot of my future is your future. I don't want a future without you in it..." Dream whispered, muting his physical mic so that no one could hear his breath leave his body. That was the most intimate he had probably ever been with George in front of fans. He hoped he hadn't just messed anything up.
George still stayed silent. Dreams answer made him almost cry with happiness. He couldn't imagine a future without Dream.
Dream un-muted his mic to finish up the quiz, "It says, you are in love with a few things about your best friend, so it's likely that you could fall entirely in love with them if you... if things keep up the way they are right now." George was unsure of what to say. Chat was once again asking if he was asleep. Both boys took no notice. Almost silently, so silently George almost missed it. But he held his breath, staring at the monitor with fear. All colour had drained from his face. He was about to pass out.
"If.. if you're worried they don't feel the same way... you're going to have to find out how to shut your feelings off, you don't want to ruin what you have."... no one talked for a couple seconds... both of them waiting for the other to say something, until George plucked up the courage.
"I don't want to ruin anything, Dream."
George loved Dream, and Dream was sure he loved George.
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patchessolostan · 4 years ago
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vertigo
a snippet of a dnf fic i’m kinda working on. 1.8k, canon-ish
Isn’t it strange, how sometimes, certain smells can inspire old feelings, can awaken memories that seemed to be forgotten? The delicate pathways in our brains weaved together in unintended ways, so tight and durable, and yet completely slipping past our radar.
For example, love, to George, smells like oranges.
It’s one of his first ever memories: a Christmas morning two decades ago, the faint tickle of his wool sweater, the subtle warmth of the sun spilling down his back. And his mother’s hands, skin soft and unmarred, neat, rounded nails digging into the orange, carefully peeling it and then splitting its tender flesh. It’s hazy at best, but the smile on her face, his father’s laughter, the sweet juice spilling past his lips—they’re as clear as day still.
He thinks there’s no amount of time that could fade the memory of that warmth from his chest.
 So, perhaps George should’ve known his fate since the day Dream told him his shampoo is orange scented.
But then again, who's to say he would've wanted to change a single thing?
 “I’ll wear the brightest blue clothes I have,” Dream promises, and George can hear the grin in his voice. He always can, whenever the topic of George’s approaching visit comes up. “So much blue, you’ll want to vomit when you see me.”
“That seems counter-productive,” George answers, giggling when Dream sighs dramatically.
“Fine,” he relents when George quiets down. “It’ll be a mild headache. I’m sure you can deal with that.”
I think I could deal with anything, as long as I get to meet you, George thinks, and despite his fluttering heart and shaking hands, he doesn’t say it.
“I hate you both. This is unfair,” Sapnap speaks up after staying silent for five solid minutes while they talked about the upcoming trip. George practically jumps and starts giggling again. “It is so unfair, you both suck, and I’ll fucking block you. Try me.”
“Oh no,” Dream wheezes out, and the sound of both his and George’s laughter easily conceals Sapnap’s muttered insults and protests.
“C’mon,” George says eventually. “At least you know how he looks like. I’m crossing the ocean to meet a fucking stranger.”
“...fair enough,” Sapnap agrees, and Dream just wheezes harder.
George bites his lip before letting his grin fully unfurl as he stares down at his fidgeting fingers.
I’m meeting him.
He wants to scream. Instead George just gently smacks his forehead on his desk.
 Ever since the plans get made, the ticket bought (Dream insists on paying, despite George’s half-assed protests), time seems to move both incredibly fast and insanely slow.
Still, soon enough there’s only a week left to his flight. And yet... George feels like every waking hour takes three more to pass. And it’s not like he can waste the hours away by sleeping, like before.
Now every time he lays down and closes his eyes, all George can think of are warm arms around him. All he can see in his mind is that still blurry face and a mess of dark blonde hair. That wheezy laugh in his ear, the Hello, George that Dream will inevitably whisper, so close that his breath will brush past his skin and set George alight from inside out.
It's already driving George crazy, and he's still almost 7 thousand kilometres away.
 He packs his bag, and then pulls it apart while looking for a charger, and packs again, and again, and again, in a seemingly never-ending cycle of anxious fidgeting.
He starts planning three different videos at once and scrapes two of them once he's almost done.
He turns Twitter notifications off, and tries to keep his phone face down on the desk, but as the date creeps closer, it's getting harder and harder. Somehow, he seems to spend even more time talking to Dream, even if before it seemed almost impossible.
Despite his big words, Sapnap isn't actually upset. In fact, he's possibly just as excited as George, which he finds hilarious and annoying at once. And though Dream seems to agree with George, he doesn't try to calm neither of them down, instead just feeding the flames.
Surprisingly, the trio manage to keep the meetup plans from fans; that’s not to say that they don’t sense a new kind of tension between them. Every worried, questioning donation and tweet is hard to ignore, with the way George’s tongue itches with impatience.
For now, it feels too fragile, too private to share, at least until he plants his feet on the Florida soil, until he hears Dream laugh in real life and watches the way his face lights up in real time.
 And then, as if no time at all has passed, it's here.
 Tomorrow, Dream texts in lieu of goodnight. George flops over in his bed a few times, legs uncomfortably tangled in the sheets, bottom lip between his teeth.
Tomorrow, he answers, and it feels like a promise.
George curls his fingers around his phone, pushing it under the pillow, and then buries his face under it too, cheeks hot from the force of his smile.
That night is full of fitful, anxious sleep, and when George wakes, it’s with a start. He jumps up and stumbles out of bed in panic.
It's so quiet in the apartment—too quiet, too still, like the world itself has paused. His heart is racing as he scrambles through the sheets for his phone.
Did he oversleep? Did he miss the alarm? Did he even set an alarm? The memories of last night are hazy, and George thinks his heart will push out into his throat when his fingers finally brush against glass.
All breath rushes out of him when the screen turns on, a clear 6:41 AM on his lockscreen.
He's fine. The anxiety pulls back, leaving George's muscles weak and sleep-tired, so he slumps on the ruffled sheets.
Thought I overslept, almost had a heart attack, he sends to Dream, fully expecting him to laugh at his expense when he finally wakes up.
To George's surprise, the message gets read immediately.
I would’ve called you :), comes through, and before George can answer, Dream writes again.
I’ll have to call a cab for us. Haven’t slept since yesterday.
George huffs out an amused breath.
Would be a shame to kick the bucket right after meeting you, he replies and closes his eyes, placing the phone on his chest.
Now that the panic from before has subsided, another takes its place, slowly rising up and overtaking his pliant body like a tide.
There it is, the final dance, the last conversation where George can’t imagine the face behind the words; it’s just as frightening as it is thrilling. It’s bittersweet on his tongue, a piece of rotten fruit in his mouth.
He can’t help but wonder—what if it changes everything? What if it’s nothing like he expects? What if Dream realizes he can’t stand George when he can’t just leave the call?
George’s not a kid, he’s not all that naïve, and he’s well aware that people who work perfectly when there’s an ocean between them, can clash horribly once they share personal space. Life isn’t a fairy tale where everything works out perfectly, with a happy ending for everyone tied up in a neat bow.
His phone vibrates, scattering the restless thoughts, and George opens his eyes, pausing for a moment before finally lifting it.
At least I’d die a happy man.
He stares at his phone for a while, heart fluttering so hard, George barely manages to breathe in.
Perhaps he’s stupid enough to believe in good endings anyway.
 //
 Anxiety, however, smells like sweat and gasoline.
It didn’t always, but now George doesn’t think he could ever be in an airplane and not remember this day. Sitting in a packed airplane, left leg jumping up and down, fingers tightly gripping his elbows, as George stares through the window and waits for the plane to take off. Begging, pleading his mind to change gears, think of anything else but the upcoming moment.
A child whines behind him, some lady argues with the flight attendant, the doors close, the engine starts, and then UK is just a smear of colours underneath him.
He leans back and lets time and space run its course.
 The Orlando airport is a mess of sounds and lights that grate on George’s groggy mind as he slowly makes his way to the baggage claim. His phone is quiet, and he can’t help but keep glancing at it, knowing full well there’s no answer to his short I’m here.
Fear firmly grips his throat in a fist, a cruel voice whispering dreadful forecast, no matter how hard George tries to not listen.
He’ll take one look at you, and he’ll see, it promises as George waits for his suitcase to show up. He’ll figure it out, now that there’s no screen to hide behind. And he’ll be disgusted. He’ll ask you to leave.
Dream wouldn’t, George wants to argue; but then again. Just how well does he know Dream?
This is the first time he’ll see him, and they’ve known each other for years now. There could be a stranger behind the screen, one not as kind and wonderful as the Dream he’s used to. One that would—
“George?”
The all-too-familiar voice stops George in his tracks, and his muscles lock up, brain painfully blank as he worries his bottom lip.
Eventually, perhaps after way too long, George turns around.
And there he is.
 He’s wearing a navy t-shirt and blue jeans, just as promised, and his smile is so wide it takes up half of his face, and George can’t tear his gaze away from it. He knows he should be exploring the face that’s brand new to him, committing all the features to memory so even weeks later, they’d be perfect and fresh.
And yet, it’s those peach-pink lips he can’t stop staring at, like some stereotypical fool.
“Dream?” he whispers, though his feet don’t dare to move.
“I knew I should’ve worn something brighter,” Dream says. His voice is light, and happy, and he’s coming closer, and George can’t quite breathe in, his chest seized in an iron grip.
He wants to answer with a quip, a joke, the way he could when it was just the two of them in a Discord call, but he realizes any words would be followed by tears; and that’s just not the way to make a first impression.
So, George stays quiet and lets his suitcase drop when Dream wraps his arms around him.
Dream is so warm. The cotton of his shirt is soft underneath George’s palms. He smells like summer, like citrus fruit and the ocean, and George almost instinctively buries his nose in his shoulder.
Dream’s breath stutters near George’s ear.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispers, lips brushing over George’s skin and sending waves of heat and cold down to his toes.
“Me too,” he answers, and pulls his best friend even closer, feeling complete and safe for the first time in a long, long while. “Me too.”
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