Epilogue

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Waking up next to Clay still felt unreal. 


A year had passed now, since Dream and George had made their relationship official.

George watched his lover sleep peacefully, a small smile on his face.

The sun was shining brightly through the curtains of his window, casting a warm glow over Clay's face as he snored. George reached out to run his fingers through the blonde strands of hair, still as fascinated with its softness as he was on day one. Clay stirred at the touch, twisting his head to face George as he opened his eyes.

"G'morning," he said, giving George the lopsided smile that made his heart beat unevenly in his chest.

"Good morning," George said, smiling back at him. "Did you sleep well?"


"I always do, when I'm with you."

George laughed and playfully shoved at the other man's cheek. "You're so cheesy," he complained, though his cheeks were pink. Dream laughed and kissed the hand that was still pressed against his face.

"You love it," he teased. George shook his head adamantly and tossed the covers off of him, laughing when they landed over Dream's face.

"Are you hungry?" George asked, tossing on one of Clay's sweatshirts and making his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Dream grunted from the bed.

"Not really. It's too early."


George poked his head out from the bathroom. "It's nearly eleven o'clock," he pointed out.

 Dream shrugged. "We could go for lunch later? Maybe that cafe you showed me a while ago. With the croissants?"


George grinned at the idea and returned to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth. "Sounds like a great idea," he called.

They got ready together, dressing themselves with bright smiles and loving touches. Dream held George around the waist as he grabbed his keys and wallet, resting his chin on his shoulder and kissing the side of his throat.

"Love you, Georgie," he murmured. George smiled.


"I love you too, Clay. Are you ready to go?"


He hadn't been expecting to see Oliver and Edward at the café.

They were sitting at a table directly across from George and Dream's usual spot. George had paused in the doorway, his hesitation apparent. Dream placed his hand on the small of George's back. 


"We can leave, if you like," he whispered. George thought about it, but shook his head. 


"It's been a year," he said, smiling shakily at his lover. "It's fine."

Dream looked a bit cautious as they entered the quaint restaurant, sitting at their usual table and smiling gratefully at the waitress that came over to them. The two quickly placed their orders - a salad for George and a sandwich for Dream - and then talked quietly to each other, holding hands above the table.

"George!"


George's shoulders tensed at the sound of his name, looking up to see Oliver standing right in front of them. Edward stood awkwardly at his side, looking uncomfortable. He offered George a small smile, almost looking apologetic. 


"Oliver," George said stiffly, gripping Dream's hand tight. "Fancy seeing you here."


Oliver smiled brightly at him. "It's been a while," he said, eying the clasped hands on the table, his gaze drifting over to Dream, who watched him with a wary eye. "I see you and Dream are still...getting along."


"Getting along quite nicely," George said, his voice stony. "Thanks."

Oliver blinked at his bluntness. "Aren't you going to ask how I'm doing?" he said, sounding genuinely hurt. George frowned at him.


"Last time I saw you, you broke into my house and assaulted me and one of my closest friends," he said coldly. "Excuse me for not inquiring, but we're not on very good terms, are we?"

Oliver looked appalled. "Well," he said, brushing the words off. "I had been hoping we could get..." He glanced at Dream, a sly look in his eyes.

"Reacquainted."

Dream stood from his chair quickly, dropping George's hand in the process. "Maybe you should go," he suggested, his voice deadly quiet. "You know what you did. We don't want anything to do with you."

Oliver put his hands up in defense, laughing quietly. "I don't mean to cause any trouble," he said. He looked back over at George, who's eyes were on Dream. He frowned and snapped his fingers in front of George's face, making him jump and turn his eyes over to Oliver.

"There we go," he said cheerfully. "Pay better attention, Georgie. You always did have problems listening to me."

George flinched and cowered in his seat, eyes wide. Dream grabbed Oliver's wrist, tugging him back a few steps and nudging him not-so-gently out the door. 


"Get out of here," he said lowly. "Before I beat the shit out of you. Understand?"

Oliver's eyes widened and he hurriedly left the shop, turning back to shoot a dark look at him before crossing the street. Edward was close behind him, tossing a small wave and a sad smile back as Clay. Dream waved back before he went back into the café.

George sat in shock at the table, his face a bit pale and his hands shaking. Dream sighed and helped his lover up, gently leading him out of the restaurant.

They could just eat at home.


Dream had to practically drag George into the apartment with how unresponsive he had become. He recognized this action as a sign of a downward spiral - George would likely be a lot more depressed in the coming days, and wouldn't want to get out of bed. Dream sighed and carried his lover to the bedroom, placing him carefully in the center of the bed and pulling his shoes off. He threw the blankets over him and kissed his forehead.


"Get some sleep, love," he murmured, crawling into bed next to him and holding him close. George said nothing, just staring at the ceiling, his pupils wide and dark.

When George woke up, he was in his bed with Dream laying half on top of him, scrolling through TikTok absentmindedly. George reached his hand up a bit to rub against Dream's back, making him tilt his head up and smile. 


"You're awake," he said happily, kissing George gently. "Do you feel okay?"


George smiled at him, brushing his thumb over Dream's cheekbone. "I'm fine," he said. "I'll be okay."


"I should've just had us leave when we saw him," Dream said guiltily, resting his chin on George's chest and sighing. George shook his head, leaning back on the pillows and running his hands through Dream's hair, his nails scratching his scalp.

"It's not your fault," he assured him. "It just caught me by surprise, is all."

Dream nodded, his eyes fluttering shut at the feel of George's hands rubbing through his hair. "Do you feel up to getting out of bed? We never got to eat. You must be hungry."


George shook his head. "Maybe in a bit. I'm pretty comfortable right now."

"Okay."


And so they stayed in bed, wrapped up in each other's love and warmth, like they were always meant to be together. Deep down, George wondered if that was true, if he was always meant to be with Clay. But in the end, it didn't matter. What mattered is that he was with him now, and that was all he could ever ask for.

"Dream?"


"Hm?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Georgie. Forever and ever."


End.

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