warmth [dreamnotfound] | ✓

chapter fifteen. hot sugar.

11:30 PM.

Dream wiped away George's tears before helping the older boy out of the pool. The two walked side-by-side back to the motel room where George locked himself in the bathroom and Dream changed into a dry pair of boxers. He couldn't be bothered to pull on clothes, especially with how hot the room was, and so he climbed into the bed and pushed the comforter onto the floor, leaving only the sheets and pillows. He waited for George, who emerged from the bathroom shortly after in similar attire. The shorter boy was a silhouette against the harsh fluorescent lights of the bathroom before he turned them off.

The blond couldn't help but admit that George was stunning. It was just an obvious fact. From his smooth skin to his dark hair to his gorgeous eyes, Dream had decided that his friend was one of the most beautiful people to ever walk the Earth. Anyone who tried to prove otherwise would simply be deemed incorrect.

George flicked off the lights and climbed into the bed beside him. Dream would never admit it to his friend, but he picked the one-bed option over the two-bed for more reasons than just the price. Part of him wanted to take full advantage of the open space and finally confront the smaller boy about the obvious tension between them, but part of him wanted to leave it be and go to sleep instead.

It seemed like the British boy was just as conflicted because his uneven breathing betrayed the fact that he was still awake. Dream squinted in the dark to see his friend staring at the ceiling. He rolled onto his side to face him directly, resting his head against the cool pillow. It felt good against his burning skin.

"Dream?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't sleep."

"I can tell."

George finally turned his head, his dark hair falling into his face and in front of his eyes. He smiled a little in the dark and Dream smiled back. The blond reached up to move the other boy's hair out of the way. He couldn't get over how smooth George's skin was. No scars. No freckles. Quite the opposite of his own. A fire flickered in his stomach and he briefly wondered if it was jealousy.

"Have we ever had a sleepover?"

"You know, in all our years of being friends, I don't think we ever did." Dream sifted through a dozen years of memories in a few seconds but came up empty. It wasn't too hard to figure out why.

"Guess this is our first then," George's eyes softened with a smile. It would also be their last, but he didn't need to say it.

"But to have a sleepover, you actually have to sleep."

They both chuckled a bit at that one. "True."

George turned back onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, closing his eyes slowly. Dream's eyes traced down his face from his fluffy hair to his full lips, wondering if George could feel his staring. He wasn't sure if he wanted him to, but didn't stop either way. "Goodnight Clay."

Dream sucked in a short breath, immediately stunned to silence. No one ever used his real name, not even teachers. The only people who ever called him that were... his parents... The name sounded good on his friend's tongue though. It sent shivers down his spine.

"... goodnight George."

He also stared at the ceiling with wide eyes, brain replaying the boy's voice over and over. Clay. Okay, maybe he didn't dislike the name as much as he thought. Clay. Yeah, he could get used to that.

Dream listened to George's breathing, waiting for it to go steady before looking at him again. The shorter boy rolled over in his sleep, landing on his stomach much closer to Dream. It was a split-second decision, but the blond wrapped an arm around George lightly.