again, this was a real conversation and god it took a ton of guts to write this. cried like eight times, damn
"Do you ever think about the future?" Dream asks in a faraway voice. He uses one finger to trace the golden sand around him, listening to the rush of waves rolling along the shore.
"Nope," the brunette responds without hesitance. "After everything, I never really thought of it."
"Are you scared?"
"Of the future?" George responds in shock, shaking his head a little. "Of course, I am. Isn't everyone?" he laughs, but nothing about his voice points towards humor.
Dream normally gets scared when people get serious. When their voices get hushed into a whisper, as if they were speaking in poetic form, voice drifting and disappearing into the comfort of silence. Somehow, it feels different coming from George. The blonde likes this side of him.
"I'm scared," the brunette admits, "But I don't think of it much, I guess I've never thought about much." He releases a soft laugh, breaking the still tension of the call. "Why, do you worry about it a lot?"
Dream shakes his head, even though he knows that George can't see him. At this point, the phone is just laying on the sand, looking up at the night sky.
"I don't worry about it," the blonde says, still drawing circles into the sand. "But I get curious about us sometimes."
"Us?" George asks in a clarifying voice. He knows he's heard it correctly, but he likes thinking of him and Dream as one.
"I just realized that we're either going to end up with marriage or the worst breakup ever imaginable," the blonde says. He spits those words out as if he needed to get it out of his system for the longest time ever.
He knows it's true, they both do.
"We'll be okay."
"George?"
The brunette hums in return.
"Would you ever marry me?"
This brings out a genuine laugh from George. It sounds through the speaker, bringing music to Dream's ears. Hearing George laugh feels like the best thing, it washes him with bliss, it brings Dream home.
"Dream," the brunette says through peals of laughter. "Dream, Dream, Dream."
The blonde smiles, but keeps anxiously drawing circles into the soft sand. "Yeah?"
"This feels like a proposal, Dream," George chuckles, shifting the camera angle so it's also facing the hospital ceiling.
"Maybe it is," the blonde responds with a nonchalant shrug. "Will you marry me?" he asks, the question sounding more like a statement. Even through the phone screen, Dream can imagine George, one hand to his mouth and giggling like its the funniest thing in the world. "I'm not kidding, George. I'm being serious."
"I never said you were kidding," the brunette says. "It's just unexpected, that's all."
"You didn't think that I'd want to marry you?"
"Not like this," George inhales deeply, an attempt in calming himself. "Not when we're not even official, not when we're on a video call."
Dream stops tracing circles into the sand, bringing his phone to his face.
"George," he says seriously. "George Davidson, will you make me the luckiest man in the universe and make me your husband?"
His voice cracks before he can finish, immediately resulting in him wheezing, one hand on his knee and the other holding his face in pure embarrassment. The two of them are properly giggling like middle-schoolers now.
The rush of waves can't compete with the two's laughter. It echoes across the beach, mixing with the sounds of jazz from the restaurant and the rest of the peaceful atmosphere. No one seems to notice. The waiters keep taking people's orders, the customers keep eating. It's as if the whole world is theirs.
Time is frozen, every second feeling like a minute.
George is the first to start speaking again, small hints of laughter still evident. "Dream," he giggles. "Yes, I'll marry you."
It all feels so euphoric. As if one day they'll both look back at this day and laugh once more. Laugh at how young and in love they were. So in love that Dream had proposed to him on call, crazy enough that George said yes.
"I promise to make you the happiest person in the universe," the blonde says in a confident tone. "I promise with all of my heart."
"You do?"
Dream just laughs back. He has no idea how a wedding proposal is supposed to go. It's everything Dream hadn't expected to happen tonight. Hadn't expected that he would be on a beach below the restaurant, in a dress shirt and black pants that were practically covered with sand already, proposing to George. Promising that one day he'll make these dreams into full-on realities. Promising that Dream can one day provide everything George could ever wish for.
With a large smile, Dream responds.
"I do."
----------
The two are practically inseparable by the time Dream gets back home.
More lies to his parents are made, more late nights with George, more hugs are given to Ranboo for being "such a good friend."
Dream doesn't regret anything. He could give up his whole world and he'll still be thankful that he had George to hold onto. The brunette brings him such a comfort that he can never put his finger on.
He's currently in the hospital room, sitting on the desk chair while Mrs. Davidson chats to George about how he's been and if anything new happened. Molly's sitting on a foldable red chair in front of Dream, engaged in an intense tic-tac-toe game with him.
They're playing on those styrofoam play sets flight attendants to give out to children. Molly places an orange styrofoam circle in the last spot, cheering as she realized that she had won.
"Good job!" Dream applauded, a large smile on his face.
The girl just smiles back, face beaming with pure innocence and pride. She crosses her arms, then furrowing her eyebrows. "You let me win, again," she says as she rolls her eyes.
The blonde holds up his hand in defeat, "You got me."
"You're no fun," Molly says as she sticks out her tongue at him.
Molly's the same as George, the resemblance is strong. The same stubbornness, the same victory cheer, even the way they roll their eyes are the same.
George's mother and sister have been visiting more often now, coming about two times a week. Dream's grateful of it, he sees how George's face lights up when they call to tell him they're going to come soon.
"Fine, I'll try this time," Dream says with a playful shake of his head. He removes the little styrofoam markers out of the spaces, setting them on the table. Dream lets Molly go first, stealing one look at George as he does so. The brunette is staring right back at him, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
George is sitting on the corner of his bed, facing his mother, who was talking to him about some topic Dream couldn't hear from his side of the room. He nods occasionally, but he's too busy staring at Dream to really follow up on the conversation.
The brunette mouths a small "thank you," and Dream sees that clearly. With a sly smile, Dream returns the gesture with a firm nod. With one final glance, they both look away, attending to their separate conversations.
"Look at Dream," Mrs. Davidson says in a quiet voice, tucking one loose hair around her ear. "He gets along with Molly."
George follows his mother's gaze, his eyes falling on Dream laughing. He's not alone, Molly's laughing back, her eyes still focused on the tic-tac-toe board in front of her.
"Dream's a wonderful person," George's mother says with a sweet smile. "You got really lucky to have him as a friend."
The brunette just laughs, "Yeah, I really did get lucky."
Everything about Dream is perfect in George's eyes. He wonders what he ever did to deserve someone like Dream. As much as the two seem perfect together, it still hurts George that Dream couldn't have more.
"Oh no, you win again," the blonde's voice breaks George out of his deep thought.
Molly doesn't bother arguing back anymore. She just grins at him and hops out of the chair, "You owe me a soda now."
Dream chuckles but gets off the chair anyways. "Alright, a promise is a promise. Let's go get you a soda."
"And a snack?" Molly asks excitedly, jumping up and down.
"If your mother allows you."
The girl doesn't waste a moment to rush to Mrs. Davidson or permission, and George sees this as an opportunity to make his way to Dream.
"Thank you for everything," George says with a light-hearted laugh. "I haven't seen Molly this happy in a long time."
Dream frowns, "School again?"
The brunette just nods, obviously looking frustrated. "But thank you, anyway."
"I'm doing my best."
They share a look before they're interrupted by Molly, who's practically jumping with excitement.
"George! Do you want anything?" Molly asks, eyes wide. "I won, so Dream has to get me everything I want."
"Leave that poor man alone, Mol," her brother responds sarcastically. "I'm kidding, go get me some chips. Steal Dream's wallet."
"Little harsh, George," the blonde laughs.
The brunette just rolls his eyes in return, shooing Dream and Molly out of the room to get the snacks.
The vending machines are just around the hallway, so it doesn't take long for the two to get there.
"Hey, Dream?" Molly suddenly asks, voice breaking the peaceful atmosphere. Her wide brown eyes scan over the vending machine, furrowing her eyebrows in concentration to find the best snack.
"Yeah?"
The girl looks directly at the blonde, "Can you tell George to stop worrying about me?" Then she looks away, tiptoeing to look at a pack of caramel M&M's.
"What do you mean?"
"George," Molly huffs. "He keeps worrying about me, he never admits it, but I know."
The blonde just smiles. "You're pretty smart for a seven-year-old."
"Seven and a half," Molly corrects him. "Can I have the chocolate?" she asks, pointing to a candy bar.
Dream nods, "How did you know about George worrying? It might just be in your head, sometimes I stare at George and have no idea what he's thinking."
As much as Dream wants to tell Molly the truth, he doesn't want to hurt her with the thought of George worrying over her.
The girl shrugs. "He does this thing when he looks away, that's when you know he's worried about something and doesn't want to tell you."
"Does he do that a lot?" Dream asks with a newfound curiosity.
George seems like a pretty relaxed person, and the blonde has never seen the brunette look away with a worried expression.
Molly pauses for a second, "Yes."
The blonde frowns, "Have you tried talking to him?"
"No," she shakes her head. "I'm only seven, George won't tell me these things."
"Seven and a half," Dream smiles.
Molly grins back, shifting her arm so that the bag of chips don't fall.
"Come on, let's go," Dream says, noticing that Molly's face was still pushed against the snacks displayed in the vending machine. He laughs, "You want another one, right?"
She nods hesitantly. "Is that okay?" she asks as she jumps around excitedly.
It reminds Dream of the twins. Reminds him of how they used to go to the sports park and walk around, occasionally stopping by a few machines to get juice boxes. He still doesn't know why they don't do it anymore.
"Sure," the blonde grins, pulling his wallet out of his pocket once more.
Molly cheers. "I hope you stay best friends with George," she suddenly says as she pushes the button.
Best friends.
Dream just laughs, shaking his head a little.
"I hope so, too."
—————
Late nights at the hospital room were cut down to a few in case of being caught, but Dream liked it anyways. George was more honest at night, eyes slightly drooping with tiredness, and his voice was softer than usual.
Dream always knew that George was never a feelings type of person. The brunette became distant to everything that drew a reaction from him, it's a miracle that George confessed back to Dream that one night.
Dream thinks about that night a lot more than he'd like to admit.
He wakes up at midnight one time. He knows the time by the blanket of dark that lurks outside of the window.
The two had stopped using curtains when they slept, it was always intentional. With curtains, they couldn't see the stars or the dark sky. And Dream liked it when George talked on and on about the planets and stars, and the brunette was more than happy to teach him.
George always had an excited expression when he talked about astronomy, eyes bright and a smile Dream could never get sick of. Sometimes when George got really excited, he'd use his hands and demonstrate planet orbits and the season equinoxes.
"I'm sorry if I talk to much," George said one time. He looked away from Dream, slightly furrowing his eyebrows. "I do that sometimes."
That was the first time Dream noticed the "worried" look Molly told him about. It wasn't obvious, and George had played it off pretty cooly, but the blonde was well aware of it now.
Dream brought one hand and cupped one side of George's face, bringing him in for a short kiss. "Don't apologize," he says once he pulls away.
The rooms dark, but Dream could see a hint of a smile on George's face.
"I like it when you talk," the blonde continues. "You have a nice voice, and I love everything you love."
The brunette's eyes meet Dream's.
"You do?'
"Of course, I do."
"Thank you," George chuckles softly, wrapping his arms around the blonde's neck.
They stay like that for a long time. Dream's back pressed against the headboard of the bed with George leaning against him.
When Dream wakes up, it's dark outside of the windows, but the hospital room is relatively bright. There's warm light coming from the bathroom, slipping through the crevices of the closed door, and Dream could hear slight movement from there.
He also notices that George isn't beside him, meaning that George was probably just in the bathroom.
The blonde can hear the sink running, and the sound of bottles being organized. Dream lets his face hit the pillow again, then decides to wait for George to come out.
Except he doesn't.
It's after ten minutes that Dream drags himself out of bed, throwing the covers aside. As he gets out of bed, he steps on an envelope that's slightly hidden under the bed, tucked in secretively. The paper crinkles slightly as Dream steps off of it.
"Wha-" he leans down to pick it up. He doesn't want the letter to get lost.
What if it was for Molly? Dream hated to think about Molly waiting for a letter that was tucked under George's bed. A letter Dream was aware of, but too ignorant to put it back in its respective drawer.
He walks to the cabinet where George stores his letters, opening the drawer. Medicine bottles slightly clink together as the drawer shifts open, papers and pens safely tucked under it.
Dream stops as he flips over the envelope, two words staring back at him.
For Dream.
It's written messily, but it's definitely George's.
The blonde looks at the letter once more, then wordlessly tucks it into the pocket of his sweatpants.
It wasn't stealing if it had his name on it, right?
Dream's curious of what the letter contained, but he shrugs it off. He needs to check on George first. He feels almost guilty for putting his own concerns before George's.
Making sure the letter is properly hidden in his pocket, he knocks on the bathroom door. "You okay, George?"
There's an immediate answer.
"Dream?" George calls out softly. His voice is quiet, as if he's whispering a secret.
"Are you okay?" the blonde calls out once more, voice sounding a bit panicked. "George! Let me in."
It's quiet on the other side of the door, then Dream hears the door hesitantly being unlocked.
The sudden light hurts the blonde's eyes a bit, but he doesn't really care much. George is sitting on the tiled floor, back leaning against the wall. His knees are pressed against his chest, arms hiding his face.
"I'm okay," the brunette murmurs, voice slightly muffled by his arms. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"
"No, no, of course you didn't," Dream reassures him, instantly coming to George's side. "What happened?"
The brunette looks at him, eyes red and tired. Dream doubts that he slept at all.
It hurts seeing George like this.
George opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out. Instead, he leans his head on Dream's shoulder and lets the blonde hold him like that for a couple of minutes. The tension is real, but George doesn't care. He just squeezes his eyes shut and stays there, feeling frail in Dream's touch.
"Had a nightmare," the brunette suddenly says, his voice quiet and a little raspy.
The blonde strokes George's hair, "Want to talk about it?"
George hesitantly shakes his head. "Talking about it will make it hurt more."
"Then we don't talk about it, is that okay?"
The brunette nods, melting into Dream's touch even more. He wants to thank him for everything, but he doesn't know how to find the words. Words were never his biggest area, nor were feelings.
"You're safe now," Dream says softly, leaning over and kissing the brunette's forehead.
George feels safe.
—————
this part was so hard to write bc it was my all-time favorite memory. i'm sorry
Most nights are better than those, but Dream's scared that'll it will happen again.
That George would end up on the bathroom floor once more, back pressed against the wall, tears streaming down his face. Except this time, Dream wouldn't be there to comfort him.
Once Dream felt the George's steady paced breathing on his shoulder, he gently carried him into the bed, making sure that he was comfortable enough. He still doesn't know how long George had been awake for, he never said anything about it afterwards.
Dream didn't want to bring up something the brunette was embarrassed about. He saw it in the way George looked away the next day, how he was more distant when Dream hugged him good morning.
"Thanks for last night," was all he had said before changing the subject entirely.
As much as Dream wanted George to talk to him about it, he knew that it wouldn't help anyways. Again, George was never a feelings person, pushing him to his limits would only make things worse.
The two got over the tension a few hours later, it was always like that.
No matter how many fights they got in, no matter how many late nights Dream had to spend with George, they'd always come back together.
The two are still inseparable, even on the nights Dream can't spend at the hospital.
Whether if it's through text messages or phone calls that last hours, they would always find their way to each other. It's how it is and how it'll forever be.
It was a Sunday, not that the days ever made a difference to the both of them seeing that it was summer vacation, but it was a Sunday.
Dream was standing on the roof of his apartment, overlooking the quiet yet busy city. His wrists were leaned against the rails, phone pressed against his ear. His other hand holds the envelope he found on the floor of George's hospital room, which he still hadn't opened yet.
It feels oddly personal, and it felt wrong, even when it had his name scrawled on it with a thin black Sharpie.
Once he got home, he put the letter on the floor and stared at it, debating if he should read it or not. If it wasn't sent to him, George probably wouldn't want him to read it, but if he didn't, why write it in the first place?
Dream felt around the envelope and he could definitely confirm a paper inside. He even turned on his phone flashlight to see if there really was a paper inside.
There was.
Maybe he was overthinking it. Maybe George tried to write something for Dream, but got distracted and put a bunch of old papers inside.
After all, the envelope was pretty crinkled, and it was definitely not in sending conditions.
It didn't matter for now.
George was in the hospital room- like always. He had his phone on loudspeaker- he found comfort that way.
It felt like Dream was truly there.
Calls on the rooftop were a tradition already, especially at night. It was fun in the daytime too, but it wasn't the same. Dream would stand by the edge, slightly peering into the well-awake city. He was completely aware that people could spot him, and he didn't like it.
Nighttime was the opposite. No one could see them, it was just the two. Talking somewhere so obvious yet private.
"You should stay the night with me sometime," George hummed softly. "I've gotten used to it by now."
The blonde laughed, because how could he ever deny George. "You can't live without me."
"True."
It was silent for a bit before Dream spoke again.
"Remember the night when we-"
"Confessed?" George interrupts, already knowing where the conversation was going.
"Yeah," the blonde grinned. "Confession night."
"You make it sound like a low budget prom for middle-schoolers," George said sarcastically, rolling a ballpoint pen flat on the table. "But, yeah, I remember it."
"Do you remember when you asked me when I fell in love with you?"
"Not really, why?"
The blonde inhaled sharply. "I told you it was when it was when Quackity asked me about you, but I lied."
George stopped for a second, the sound of the pen gliding over the table pausing. "Why did you lie?"
"It wasn't completely a lie," Dream admitted, "I just feel like I could've answered differently."
"Go ahead."
"I don't think I ever fell in love with you, not straight away," the blonde pauses, staring at the hospital, looking to see if he could spot George.
News flash, he couldn't.
"I guess it was a step-by-step process," he continues. "I've thought about this for a long time, and George, I am in love with you. Truly. Nothing could ever make me stop loving you."
The brunette doesn't say anything, and to be honest, he isn't all that surprised.
Dream was a romantic, that was obvious. He put his heart into emotions, emotions into thoughts, then thoughts into words.
"Every hour- every second I spend with you, it makes me fall for you even more," the blonde says with a hint of confidence. "I'll always be in love with you, and I'll only be more in love as time passes by."
The atmosphere is peaceful, there's a subtle rush of cars, but it mixes well with the starry night sky.
"I want to spend my life with you, George, and as much as I want to tell you this in real life, I can't wait anymore," the blonde says.
The words spill out of his mouth before he can properly compose his thoughts.
"I do," George whispers into the phone. He squeezes his eyes shut and leans against the headboard of the bed. "God, Dream. Yes, I'll marry you."
The blonde is stunned at this point.
"How did you know that I was fake proposing?" Dream asks, a laugh escaping his lips.
George opens his eyes, gaze falling outside of the window.
"Your voice," he says. "It's like the night at the beach, Dream. You sound the same."
"Do I?"
The brunette nods even though he knows that Dream can't see him.
"You really do, and the words practically gave it away."
"Did I do better this time?" Dream asks hopefully. "The beach proposal wasn't as impressive as this one, I don't think."
George chuckles, "Most definitely."
"Am I... yours now?" the blonde says, laughing a little. "Whatever that means."
"No," the brunette quickly says. "No, no, not over call. I want to be with you when we become official."
"Fair point," Dream nods into the distance. "Fuck, George. You make me want to come over right now."
The brunette laughs, "It's 2 in the morning, I doubt you'd want that."
"But, I do," Dream whines. "Another day then," he dismisses with a small shrug.
"Are you free tomorrow?" George asks with a faraway voice.
"Yep," the blonde says. "You want me to come over tomorrow?"
The brunette frowns, "I was hoping you'd say no, I'm getting a lot of tests ran tomorrow and I would probably be too busy," he pauses. "And I'd be really tired after I'm done with everything, I don't want you to see me like that."
"It's okay," Dream says, "I'll come some other time, don't worry about it."
"O-okay," George says, stifling a yawn.
They're both tired, but they're also so out of it to admit it.
"You're tired," the blonde says.
"I'm not."
They both know that's a lie, but Dream dismisses it.
"I'm tired, I'm going to sleep then."
"Wait," George says. "You have to promise me."
"Mm?" Dream hums. "Promise you about what?"
The brunette closes his eyes once more, but it's out of embarrassment, not tiredness.
"On the beach, after the proposal? You promised me, and I really liked it," George says shyly. "Can you do that again?"
Dream laughs, happy that George actually remembered things. "You liked it?"
"I really liked it."
"Okay, fine," the blonde shakes his head subtly. "George Davidson, I promise to make your dreams come true. I assure you that we'll get through all your troubles together. You'll wake up next to me every day, and on the days we are apart, I would make you feel as if I never left your side."
George notices that it's a completely different promise, but he would never have it in him to complain.
—————
4430 words
THIS CHAPTERS BEEN A CUTE FILLER. we going back on plot next chapter, i promise
-plu