Their legs touch in comfort as they sit next to each other on Dream’s fancy couch, George a book in his hands, Dream mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Every flick of a page reminds Dream of the wonderful man’s company, making him smile each time, without fail. A late October storm rushes through the streets outside, and raindrops hit against the window mercilessly. Inside though, the world seems like a different place. Warm, happy, filled with a sense of content.
“What do you want to do for your birthday?” Dream suddenly asks, breaking the pleasant silence.
“Hmm?” George responds in a soft hum, finishing reading a sentence before he looks next to him, meeting with the green eyes of his boyfriend.
“Your birthday, what do you wanna do?” Dream repeats, smiling warmly upon seeing the other’s questioning eyes.
“Oh, we don’t need to do anything,” George answers nonchalantly, turning his head back to his book. Dream frowns slightly at the underwhelming response, having hoped George had any wishes he could fulfill.
“Are you sure?” Dream continues, turning his body to snuggle up against George, laying his head at his shoulder. “I can take you anywhere you want, you name it and we do it,” he adds, squeezing the back of George’s neck softly in affirmation.
“It’s really fine, I don’t like birthdays that much anyway,” George says, leaning into Dream more as well. “We both need to work, we can just— I don’t know, get McDonald’s on the way home or something?” he tries to compromise. Dream shakes his head slightly, moving his hand up a little to play with the long locks at the back of George’s head.
“George—”
“No, don’t ‘George’ me, I already know what you’re going to say,” he chuckles softly, putting his book down as he realizes Dream is going to keep him from reading any further.
“What was I going to say then?” Dream challenges him, not willing to admit defeat yet. He can and will do something for his lover on his birthday, even if George can’t think of something himself.
“The same you always say, about how you’re the boss, so we can skip work if we want, all of that,” George cites, laying his cheek against Dream’s soft, freshly washed hair. It smells faintly of sandalwood and honeysuckle.
“But it’s true,” Dream argues, watching George pull up his legs onto the couch as well to snuggle up more comfortably against Dream’s side. “You never make use of it, bear.”
“Because one, we don’t need to,” George rebuts, “and two, it’s unfair treatment, and you agreed we were going to avoid that.” Dream huffs in disagreement but decides it’s not worth the fuss to go against him on the subject.
“Okay, fine,” Dream responds reluctantly, curling George’s hair around his fingers. “So what are we doing after work?”
“As I said, get McDonald’s,” George laughs. His partner’s stubbornness is both one of the things he finds so charming, and one of the things he sometimes wants to -figuratively- strangle him for.
“What, you want to celebrate by eating chicken nuggets?” Dream mocks. George’s shoulders shake softly with his chuckle, making a smile appear on Dream’s face too.
“Finally you get it,” he jokes, wrapping his arm around Dream’s back, rubbing gentle circles into his shirt, much to Dream’s satisfaction.
“I know better things you can stuff your mouth with—”
“I swear to God Dream, do not finish that sentence,” George cuts him short, causing a roaring laugh to erupt from Dream.
“Fine, McDonald’s then,” Dream gives in when their giggles die down. “And after that?”
“After that we..” George contemplates, tapping his chin with his finger softly in thought, “..we cuddle, watch the Lion King, and go to sleep.” Dream pouts, dragging his finger across George’s chest in random shapes and figures.
“You don’t want to do anything special, at all?” he tries again, but George shakes his head.
“I like it low-key, it doesn’t all have to be glitter and glamour, and big parties with a lot of people,” he answers, closing his eyes for a moment as sudden sleepiness overcomes him. “As long as it’s with you, it’s special enough,” he mumbles after it. Dream sighs and lays his hand still, feeling George’s chest lift and drop slowly under his touch.
“Okay, McDonald’s, cuddling, and the Lion King it is,” he says softly, closing his eyes as well.
A blissful moment of silence ensues, in which both nearly drift off into a peaceful slumber under the sound of the rain coming down. That is until Dream speaks up again.
“You said ‘home’,” he mutters against George’s shoulder.
“Hmm?”
“You didn’t say ‘on the way to my apartment’, or ‘your house’, you said ‘home’,” he clarifies.
“Hm, I guess I did,” George answers softly, wrapping his other arm tightly around Dream as well. They breathe slowly against each other, Dream reveling in the feeling that his place has become more than his own.
“I do have a birthday wish,” George tells him suddenly.
“What is it?” Dream mumbles back sleepily, George’s shoulder feeling more and more like the very best pillow he could ever wish for.
“For my birthday, I’d like to move in,” George states, waking Dream up completely in a matter of seconds, “—permanently.” Dream sits up immediately and grabs George’s face in both his hands, watching the prettiest boy he had ever seen crack the biggest grin.
“Yes,” is all Dream can answer with wide eyes, before pressing their lips firmly together in a shared excitement over the new development within their relationship. “Yes, yes, yes,” he mumbles softly against George’s mouth, too eager to stop kissing. He only stops when he gets a new idea.
He breaks the kiss by pulling away and standing up, as George looks at him in slight confusion. His intentions become clear within a singular moment when Dream’s arms scoop up George and he hangs him over his shoulder, holding his legs tightly while George screeches.
“Dream!” he giggles, slamming his fists jokingly against Dream’s back while Dream carries him across the room, also laughing loudly when George screeches again for the whole neighborhood to hear when he lands a playful slap on the man’s ass.
“You can’t escape!” Dream cackles as they disappear beyond the doorframe that leads to their bedroom.
———
November 1st
“Let’s hear it for the birthday boy!” Dream announces as they walk into the office building, joined at the hip with Dream’s hand laying comfortably on George’s lower back. The hallway is decorated with poorly hung garlands and a few balloons, which George guesses is the work of his colleagues who cheer and clap from their respective offices, smiles on their faces as the pair passes by them.
“Let’s not!” George yells in response, earning some laughter from different rooms until he gets to his own.
“I’ll see you at lunch baby,” Dream says, quickly pecking George’s lips before looking at him with adoration-filled eyes.
“Swear you don’t have anything planned,” George tells him, pointing an accusatory finger at his chest.
“I swear I don’t not have anything planned,” Dream answers with a mischievous grin. George’s eyebrows knit together as he processes the sentence, but before he can ask about it, Dream turns around and walks off to his own office.
———
“Hey bear,” Dream says softly as he snakes his arms over George’s shoulders, laying his head on top of the other’s to watch what he’s doing. The monitor in front of them displays some administrative work George appears to have been working on.
On many occasions throughout the day, Dream considered just sending George home to take the day off. He called in several times to check up on him, asking if he was feeling okay, if he shouldn’t take a break and relax, but George would dismiss it every single time.
All Dream wanted to do was make George’s day special, to make him feel like a king, short of nothing, but his partner simply wouldn’t let him.
“Hello,” George answers sweetly, continuing to type on his keyboard. Dream follows his fingers with his eyes. Anything George does can entrance him without even trying. Maybe it’s that he’s stuck in that first giddy phase of their relationship still, even though they are getting more serious each week. He just can’t help feeling like anything George does is a reflection of how perfect he is.
“Can we at least leave an hour early? I’m hungry already,” Dream suggests, and he watches George’s fingers hover above the keys before he sighs and puts his hands down to his desk.
“You’re not going to stop until I give in, will you?” he asks.
“Nope,” Dream answers shortly.
“Fine, we can leave. Happy?” George sighs, immediately getting an answer to his rhetorical question as Dream kisses his cheek and ruffles his hair.
“I’ll round up my stuff, let’s get out of here,” Dream says, lifting himself up again and turning around to head to his office, and he leaves the hallway, yelling a last quick “hurry up!”
George can’t help but grin, secretly a little bit happy to leave early, although he wouldn’t admit it to Dream and stroke his ego even more. He shuts down his computer after saving all of his documents, and stuffs all of his papers away in drawers and file cabinets. Right as he grabs his coat from the rack by the door, Dream approaches him again, already dressed in his own long, black, woolen coat. It hangs slightly open, still showing his tie resting on his chest. In moments like that, where he walks so nonchalantly, looking like he fell down from heaven, George wonders why he never became a model. The smile Dream shoots him as he walks towards the door makes the butterflies explode in his stomach all over again.
It’s his birthday, he has a stable job, and he’s in a committed relationship with the most handsome man he has ever laid his eyes on. He can’t help the corners of his mouth curling up in a broad smile as he slips into his coat and slings his bag across his shoulder, before he meets Dream at his side.
Dream quickly wraps his arm around George’s waist, protectively pulling him closer against him to leave no room for even a single spec of dust to come between them.
“So where are we going, after McDonald’s?” Dream inquires with a smile spreading from ear to ear as he looks ahead of him.
“What? You know where we’re going,” George says in confusion, and Dream shakes his head, still smiling.
“I just want to hear you say it again,” he answers as their footsteps echo through the mostly empty hallway.
“Oh,” George laughs, snaking his arm around Dream’s waist as well, “you mean home?” George didn’t know the smile on his partner’s face could grow any bigger, but somehow it does, and he immediately gets some extra pep in his step.
“One more time,” he says, and George chuckles lightly.
“Home,” he repeats, and Dream nods proudly, squeezing George’s side.
Without much further conversation, they enter the parking garage and get into Dream’s car, which looks way too expensive to pass through a McDonald’s drive-through, but they roll with it. When George gets their order placed in his lap and reaches inside the bag for some fries, his hand gets slapped away with a stern look from Dream.
“You can’t eat yet,” he says, focussing his eyes back on the road as he drives away from the establishment. George cocks an eyebrow, his hand still tingling from the slap.
“Why not, exactly?” he questions, feeling the bag warm up his lap gradually with its contents inside.
“Because I’m taking you somewhere first,” Dream explains, his face neutral, but knowing damn well George is going to go into protest.
“Dream, I literally said—”
Dream turns up the volume of the radio to drown out George’s voice, and he sings along loudly, ignoring any fight George tries to put up. Eventually, he decides to give up, and slouches in his seat, just playing with the paper bag by ripping pieces off of it and crumpling them.
George doesn’t recognize the road they drive down as the sun sets in the distance. He’d love to ask, but Dream’s incoherent blaring of songs makes it impossible to. Instead, he just decides to appreciate the view. Clouds make for pretty paint strokes in the gradient sky, slowly turning from yellow, to orange, to dark blue.
When after a while they enter a different city, Dream turns down the radio and stops singing along. He sucks in a breath as he prepares to tell George of his plans, and George notices it all too well.
“Don’t be mad,” Dream starts with, looking over his shoulder before turning a corner.
“You better not give me anything to be mad about,” George quips, and he watches the corner of Dream’s mouth turn upwards.
“You wanted to watch the Lion King,” he says, scanning the road for signs of where to go.
“Yes,” George answers.
“So I found a drive-in theater that would play it.”
“Dream!” George sits up in his seat, ready to lash out at his partner before something catches his eye. In front of them, a small line of cars is waiting to get tickets, and across the field in front of the screen, several cars are already scattered.
“Listen, I didn’t hire an entire theater, okay? I just asked if they could play the Lion King for one night, and they agreed,” Dream explains as the car stills behind another one.
“I hate you so much,” George murmurs as he sits back in his seat, but his lip curls upward in a small smile.
“Ohh, I’m sure you do,” Dream says as he spots the grin his boyfriend is sporting now.
The line moves on pretty quickly, and soon they’re stood in the middle of the field, between several cars with other couples or groups of friends in them, all drinks and snacks in hand. George fishes out the cooled down McDonald’s as an involuntary smile creeps onto his face.
“Here, have your McChicken,” he says as he throws it into Dream’s lap, who laughs back.
“Thank you, dearest. Greatly appreciated, my love,” he says as he picks up the package.
They eat silently for a little bit as the sky darkens slowly, and they wait for the movie to start. Then, right as George takes a sip from his coke, a message appears on the screen.
‘Happy Birthday George!’ is spelled in bold letters across the screen.
Coke sprays out through his nose as he jumps, leaving a stinging feeling behind as Dream laughs hysterically beside him, observing the man with now very wet pants watch the screen with wide eyes, as ‘Happy Birthday’ starts playing, and several other people across the field start singing along, not even knowing who George is. He quickly wipes his nose with his sleeve, wincing at the feeling, before shooting Dream a death glare, which only encourages him to laugh more.
“I actually hate you!” George yells as he shoves Dream’s shoulder, Dream barely able to breathe through his laughter. He ends up coughing as tears form in his eyes, which in its turn, makes George laugh as well. “That’s what you get, stupid donkey,” he says, as the message on the screen disappears with the end of the song, and the movie starts playing under loud cheering of the rest of the audience.
It takes several minutes for Dream to calm down completely, under the laughter of George, but when eventually their giggles die down, they manage to finish their food and lock hands as the movie plays. Several tears are spilled, mostly by George, who dismisses it as ‘shut up, there is something in my eye, asshole’. Dream knows better and squeezes his hand a little tighter.
By the end of the movie, they have scooted close enough to allow for George’s head to rest on Dream’s shoulder while the credits roll. Dream catches George’s sniffles and wraps an arm around him in consolation.
“Home?” he whispers silently, and George nods wordlessly. After a quick peck on the head, Dream pulls himself away and hands George a tissue from his pocket. With the sound of George loudly blowing his nose in his ears, Dream backs out of their spot and starts driving away.
The drive home seems shorter than the drive there— maybe because the anticipation of it has died down, but neither of the men mind. George’s consciousness has slipped away from him as he hangs sideways in his seat, his cheek against the cold window, and his flattened out breath leaving a spot of condensation. Whenever he gets the chance, Dream looks at him, admires his calm state.
He could argue George looks prettiest when he sleeps, so peaceful and unbothered. Whenever he sees the older sleeping, all he wants is to take him in his arms and join him in slumber, sleeping all of their possible worries away.
He wants to take a mental photograph every time he even catches a glimpse of the man. He wants him tattooed into his brain, to keep with him forever. He never even wants to think about a life without him anymore.
How one single person can make this feeling blossom inside his chest, is a mystery to him. But it’s a mystery he doesn’t wish to unravel. He just wishes to embrace it, and for it to never leave him.
George wakes up and yawns deeply as the car comes to a halt in front of Dream’s -or their- house, and sleepily he climbs out of it, making his way inside with Dream following close on his tail. As he bows down to take off his shoes, he feels Dream press his chest to his back, trapping him in his position.
“Are you going to let me take off my shoes?” he laughs, undoing both his and Dream’s shoelaces as Dream’s arms move over his chest.
“They loose?” Dream asks, and George hums in confirmation. Suddenly he feels himself being lifted up and from the ground. “Just kick,” Dream tells him, and he does as asked, his shoes flying across the hallway and landing with a thud on the hardwood floor. Dream’s shoes follow as he kicks, before he sets George back on the ground, not letting go of him yet as he hides his face in the brunet’s neck.
“I can’t believe you’re mine,” Dream whispers softly against the fuzz on George’s skin, before placing gentle kisses. A noise of content leaves George’s throat as he feels the pair of hands move over his abdomen and bottom. “The most perfect person in the world, all mine,” he whispers as he starts pulling George with him down the hallway.
“You are clingy,” George giggles softly as Dream’s lips move all over his neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses, while his hands roam freely over his sides. Their feet tangle with each step they walk towards the bedroom, making it greatly and unnecessarily difficult to get where they silently agreed to go.
“Mm-hm,” Dream hums softly in agreement, moving to the other side of George's neck, wrapping his arms around his waist tightly. “It’s because it’s your birthday,” he mumbles against George’s skin, eliciting a small moan as his lips brush against a sensitive spot. Tingles spread all through his lower region at the sound, one thing on his mind: to please his significant other.
“That’s your reasoning for everything today,” George snickers, placing his hands on top of Dream’s as they stumble towards the bed together.
“Correct,” Dream confirms, moving on from kissing to sucking softly. They stand still by the edge of the bed, and Dream’s hands move down across George’s thighs, snaking inward carefully in circled motions. He wants these moments to last forever. He wants an everlasting embrace, in which they both anticipate what’s to happen, filled to the brim with excitement and love.
The fresh linen sheets call for them to lie down, but Dream has a different plan. His hands move up from George’s thighs, fingers dragging gently across his crotch towards his belt, where they linger and play with the leather carefully. George’s eyes are closed, and he breathes in and out deeply as he treasures each touch, each gentle movement of Dream’s fingers, aimed solely to pleasure him.
“Is this a birthday gift also?” he breathes out, and Dream disconnects his lips from George’s neck to lay his chin on his shoulder, looking down at the effect he has on the other man. The wonderful bulging of his pants, caused solely by him. He basks in the feeling of pride it brings him.
“We can make it that, if you want it to be,” he whispers, moving his mouth closer to George’s ear. His lips brush past George’s pinna, up and down, as George doesn’t bother to close his mouth anymore when Dream unbuckles his belt completely and starts dragging down the zipper. “What do you want me to do, baby?” he purrs, lightly massaging the flesh just besides George’s crotch, through his pants.
“Hmm, surprise me,” George answers, voice hushed, and he feels Dream’s hands pull down his pants slowly, teasingly. Mid his thighs, Dream lets go, and reaches up again, his palm suddenly pressing against his restricted member, which has already grown in size and is aching to be freed.
“Sit down,” Dream whispers as he pulls away, quickly taking off his socks while George follows his example. George pulls down his pants completely and proceeds to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his elbows as he watches Dream unbutton his shirt, containing eye contact at all times. At an agonizingly slow pace, his fingers push the buttons through their respective holes, gradually showing more and more of his skin, until he reaches the last button and pushes the shirt off his arms completely. George licks his lip at the sight, causing Dream to smirk knowingly. He admires the man on the bed, so wondrously disheveled, eyes only displaying pure want.
He gets down on his knees in front of George, laying his hands tenderly on his thighs. They crawl up, and his fingers hook into the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down only a taunting few centimeters, causing a small whine to escape George’s mouth.
“You control everything baby, if you want me to go faster, I’ll go faster,” Dream tells him as he looks up into his eyes again, watching George nod frantically.
“Faster, please,” he answers, and with that, his underwear is off and Dream has his palm wrapped around the base of George’s dick.
“You don’t even need to say please,” he smiles, before moving his head down, and taking George’s tip into his mouth without further hesitation. A moan echoes through the room, and it’s like music to Dream’s ears, wanting to hear more of George’s sweet, sweet melodies as he tastes him. While one of his hands fumbles softly with George’s testicles, his other moves towards his own crotch, and he palms himself through his pants while moving his head up and down over George’s cock.
“God— Dream,” George moans as he throws his head back, forming the predominant motivation for Dream to start bobbing his head faster. He takes in every sound George makes, causing him to moan as well, sending shivers right up George’s spine in little shocks of electricity.
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” George breathes out, gripping onto Dream’s hair with one hand to pull him up. Their mouths collide in passionate longing as Dream climbs on top of him, straddling his lap with his knees as their tongues dance against each other. Urgency guides George’s hands towards Dream’s pants, pulling them down without breaking the kiss. His boxers come off as well, together with George’s shirt, and giggling like teenagers, they scurry over to the head side of the bed.
“I love you so much,” Dream says before he starts kissing down George’s chest, leaving no inch of skin untouched by his lips as he moves down. When he reaches George’s thigh, he moves back up, pulling the thick blue comforter with him to cover them. “You are so perfect,” he praises as he reaches for the top drawer of their nightstand. His hand blindly rummages through it while he kisses over George’s face extensively. A familiar bottle is caught in his grip when he retracts his hand, and he pops off the cap. The clear, of strawberry smelling substance covers three of his fingers soon after.
“Ready?” he whispers, and George nods eagerly. He grabs Dream’s wrist with both of his own hands, guiding it down, making Dream nearly drool as he watches. Placidly, one of Dream’s fingers enters him, granting him the time to adjust as he gasps from the cold sensation. It starts warming almost immediately, and Dream continues his kisses over George’s jaw and neck, moving his finger in and out slowly.
“More,” George breathes, guiding Dream’s face up again to kiss him. Another finger enters him, his moans muffled by Dream’s mouth against his. Dream smiles as he gently stretches him out, soon adding a third finger, thrusting them in and out a little more rapidly. He knows he’s found the bundle of nerves he was looking for when George's hands grip the sheets tightly, and he moans out loud, “fuck, Dream, there—”
His fingers pick up in pace, angling to hit exactly where he wants them to, his reward being George’s desperate sounds and gasps of pleasure. His overwhelming craving gets the best of him, so he pulls his fingers out and picks up the bottle again, quickly slicking up his cock. He groans softly as he jerks himself, and George finds his chance to sling his arms around Dream’s neck, pulling him down closer.
Dream’s tip presses lightly against George's rim, who immediately demands, “don’t wait.”
Without a second to spare, he gingerly pushes halfway in, allowing George to adjust to the stinging stretch as their moans mingle in the air of the hot and humid bedroom. When George nods, Dream pulls out slightly, before pushing further in, and repeating the process until he bottoms out, both breathing heavily.
“Make me feel it,” George moans out, causing a wave of pleasure to move through Dream’s entire body, and making him thrust in hard. Nails dig into his back and loud moans meet his ears as he continues pushing and pulling, aiming for the spot he knows.
“Yes, yes, there—,” he hears George moan as he thrusts in, and he quickens his pace, soon relentlessly fucking the man below him to the point where his eyes roll back into his head and the nails on his shoulders leave red scratches all over. Dream’s hungry eyes take countless mental photographs of the sight before him, the utterly beautiful man brought to the brink of peaking— it's all his doing.
“I— I’m gonna—,” George nearly yells, and Dream pulls him over the edge as he pounds into him, hitting his prostate over and over until he screams, releasing over both their stomachs. His head falls back as Dream fucks him through his orgasm, chasing for his own high as he feels it building up inside him.
“God, fuck—,” he groans out loudly as he gives one final hard push, pausing his movements shortly as his legs shake and he reaches his climax deep inside the man he loves so dearly, the closest they could ever be. “Fuck, George—,” he moans as he resumes his slow movements, riding out his high gradually while George pulls him closer, laying him against his chest.
A final little moan escapes George when Dream pulls out and drops down completely on top of George, not bothering with the slick between their stomachs. After a moment of catching their breaths, George laughs softly.
“Best part of my birthday, by far,” he says, moving his hands from Dream’s back to his hair to play with his locks softly. Dream leans into the delicate touch, still in complete awe that he can make another feel so good, that he can make the person he wants to spend his life with feel so good.
“It should be your birthday more often,” Dream chuckles, resting his chin on George’s chest to look him in the eyes. George flashes him a smile as his fingers curl his hair.
“Thank you for today,” he whispers softly, and Dream smiles back, practically melting under the loving gaze of his partner.
“We’re not even done yet,” Dream states, and he can’t decipher whether it’s fear or confusion flashing through George’s eyes. “We haven’t cuddled yet,” he clarifies, and a tense breath escapes George as he rolls his eyes and lies back.
“Don’t scare me like that,” he complains, causing a breathy chuckle to escape from the man on his chest.
“Well, we can always go for a round two, if you want,” he suggests, but the idea is quickly shut down as George glances at him angrily.
“Fine, fine,” Dream says as slowly lifts himself up, “I’ll clean us up, you just lie here and be pretty,” he adds as he stumbles out of the bed, still a little shaky in his legs. George’s eyes follow him intently as he walks into the bathroom, and exits again with a washcloth and a towel.
“Or do you want to shower?” he asks George, but he shakes his head.
“We can shower tomorrow,” he answers as he yawns, letting the warm washcloth pass over his stomach and across his bottom before he’s dried off again, and Dream joins him at his side below the covers.
Dream feels him crawl closer to him, resting his head on his bare chest as both breathe slowly, ready to end the day. George’s gentle finger traces shapes across his chest, in no seemingly logical pattern, but that’s okay. The soothing touch slows down gradually before the hand lays still, and George’s breathing flattens out.
Dream takes one final moment to thank any God that’s listening for the man he has been blessed with, before also drifting off to sleep, content with the outcome of the day, and wishing for many more of them as the years ahead of them will proceed.
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5100 words