Uninvited

Chapter Ten|Coping

When he got back to the house, George was waiting for him. The boy looked like he would pass out, and Dream didn't realize why until he checked the time.

It was four am.

Dream realized that he felt too much like laying on the floor and dissociating for at least an hour to care that he was so late.

He walked in front of George, who had been sitting on the couch, just staring into the TV blankly. He probably wasn't even watching it. His eyes looked red, and he had tear tracks down his face. Dream felt the last of his will to even pretend to breathe slip out of him, so he just stopped breathing. It's not like he had to anyways.

"I'm sorry," George said to him, not turning towards him. Dream took a breath so he could respond.

"I'm sorry too." He answered, and he just stood there for what felt like centuries before he finally walked over to George, pulling the now cold mug of half-drunken tea out of his hands.

George blinked up at him, but the only thing showing on his face was pure exhaustion. Dream knew some humans that stayed up this late on a regular basis. George just wasn't one of them.

The boy sighed as he scooped George into his arms, bridal style. The boy was so tired that his only reaction was to snuggle deeper into Dreams arms as he carried them up to the right room.

George was cool to the touch. It was pleasant on his warm skin. He didn't doubt that George felt the opposite about him as he practically buried his face in the fabric of his green sweatshirt.

Dream hummed one of the songs he had been listening to earlier as he laid George down in bed, fully prepared to leave the room so the boy could sleep in peace, but he seemed to have other plans.

"Dream, don't go, you're warm.." George sleepily complained. Dream would probably be blushing if he could.

"Uhm... You sure you want me to stay?" Dream asked, his already warm skin growing in temperature at the thought of cuddling with George, which probably only made him more enticing to the boy.

George just nodded and hummed, pulling Dreams sweatshirt sleeve towards him with a whine. Dream sighed, hoping to whatever's up there that George doesn't hate him in the morning for what he's about to do.

He took off his shoes, snagging a pair of basketball shorts George kept complaining about because they were way to big on him. He also grabbed one of the merch T-shirts that George had gotten a couple sizes too big. He was embarrassed to change in the same room as George, but he felt like George wouldn't forgive him for leaving.

George smelled nice. Not in a way that made him hungry, but in a way that was familiar; a way that made him feel at home.

As he slipped under the bedsheets, George sighed in blissed-out pleasure, pushing his cool body against Dream's much warmer one. Dream kept telling himself it meant nothing, and he believed it, but hell, he should at least bask in it.

He smiled as he spooned the other male, wrapping an arm around his waist and nuzzling into the crook of his neck to just take his scent in.

Everything around him smelled like George, from the sheets to the clothes on his own back. It was bliss. Dream couldn't be happier at this moment.

Even though Dream couldn't sleep, he didn't want this moment to end. He didn't mind the night hours that came and went as he hummed slow lullabies to the metronome of George's steadily beating heart.

---

When George inevitably woke up, Dream completely expected him to tear out of the bed and explode at him like a firecracker. But this isn't what happened.

As George woke up, he rubbed his eyes and smiled softly, snuggling more into Dream.

"Good morning, Dream." George had said. Dream couldn't resist the huge grin on his face as he nuzzled George's cheek with his face. Or, at least, what he wished would eventually be seen as a face.

"Do you want me to make some breakfast, Georgie?" Dream heard George's heart rate pick up a bit, and he chuckled deep in his throat, right next to George's ear. George swallowed, and Dream knew it wasn't from fear.

"Mh? Breakfast would be awesome, Dream.." The boy answered his question after a moment, and Dream smirked.

"You can keep sleeping then, I'll come up when it's ready for you." Dream informed the shorter boy, barely resisting the urge to stay and feel more shivers go down the other boy's spine.

He had decided this morning was a pancake kind of morning, and so here he was, a plate of pancakes in one hand and a bottle of syrup in the other, humming a tune.

He had left the door to George's room cracked so he could push it open with his foot, and that's exactly what he did as the smell of pancakes filled the room.

George's room was clean. The boy needed a clean room for when he was streaming, I mean, who would watch a stream of someone with a dirty room? Yeah, Dream has to agree with you when he says it doesn't really matter to him.

He placed the plate and bottle on the desk, walking over to the bed where George was sleeping.

He placed his hand gently on the boy's shoulder, purring his name as he gently rocked his shoulder back and forth to wake him up.

George woke up fairly easily, humming as he did. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned adorably, making Dream's 'heart' squeeze in his chest.

"Breakfast is ready, Georgie." Dream said, rubbing the answer boy's back rhythmically before heading across the room as George sat up, rubbing his eyes.

George was smiling first thing in the morning when that plate was placed onto his lap, and as Dream watched him tuck in, he realized that he couldn't be happier.