glimpse || DNF

𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘

I don't say this nearly as often as I should, thank you thank you thank you for the votes and comments <3<3<3

//

Dream wakes up at 7 AM sharp like usual. But for one of the few times in his life, he didn't want to get out of bed right away, primed to start the day as soon as his eyes opened.

Not when the luxury of having the most beautiful boy he'd ever seen in his life was there, tucked into his chest. His features were smoothened, that blissful smile tugging his lips again with what Dream hoped were sweet dreams running around his mind.

His eyes snap to the door when it creaks open. But instead of the prying eyes of Sapnap or Karl, it was Patches who creeped through the door, her tail raised high into the air. She hops up onto the bed like usual, her wide chartreuse eyes searching George's sleeping face.

She sniffs his hand carefully, eyes flicking to his unmoving face every once in a while before uttering a quiet purr, curling up beside him. Warmth settles in Dream's gut. It was a kind of warmth that consumed him completely, drowning the existential crisis brewing in his mind with a cozy touch.

George hums, the melody floating pleasantly past his ears. The marks scattered across his neck had faded from pretty pink to a vibrant array of blues and purples. Dream cringes; he's probably going to get yelled at for that when the boy wakes up. Speaking of–

"Good morning." Dream mumbles, when glazed-over chestnut meets lively sage. George hums in response, scrunching up his nose with a short groan.

The brunette shoves his forehead into his arm, closing his eyes again. "Back to bed."

"Nooo," Assertive hands pull him from half-slumber. "We're burning daylight, come on."

The brunette reluctantly detaches from him, observing the boy's pretty features yet again. The inevitability of it all hits him like a truck. Nothing could help those intrusive thoughts from worming into his mind, rotting the present. They should have had a lifetime of mornings like this. It wasn't fair.

Warm fingers brush his own, pulling him out of his mind with ease. George's hand hovers over his neck, wincing when he prods the bruised skin.

"Dreeeam." He mumbles.

"Yes?" Dream asks sweetly, sensing his annoyance. "Sweetheart?"

"Shut up idiot." He exhales into the blonde's pillow, still too tired to hold a coherent sentence. "Neck hurts."

"Do you want me to say sorry?" Dream chuckles. Of course the first thing he says after they wreck their friendship is that his neck hurts. George hums, looking at him expectantly. "I'm sorry Georgie." He relents softly.

Dream curls his arms around the other's waist again, pulling him close to his chest. He feels warm brown eyes watching his every move as he lowers his lips to the back of the boy's neck, leaving a tender kiss on a rather harsh mark. He works his way down, tongue swiping against sweet skin as he apologizes for each one.

George melted against him, shutting his eyes as Dream roamed, running his soft lips against his collarbone. Large hands tilt his chin, and the brunette flushes a deep red, pressing their lips together.

They sit there in each other's company for a bit, basking in the blistering heat of the sun against their skin. George didn't believe he'd ever seen anything prettier than his best friend. He couldn't help but think back to that one Technoblade stream he had listened to back in England when he couldn't fall asleep. The man was rambling on about Greek myths to his chat. Afterwards, George went to a few websites to read up on the subject that he quite enjoyed learning about.