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"I don't know what I'd do without you," Dream speaks from behind George, his arms wrapped around the smaller boy in the warm, soapy water.
Dream cradles him and holds him tight, placing kisses on the back of George's neck every so often. George's pale, much skinnier arms rest over Dream's larger ones, covering Dream's folded embrace that keeps them tight, close together in the steamy tub. They would probably be sweaty and gross from the temperature if it weren't for the fresh water and glistening suds submerging their bodies, playing with their heads. The waves of heat that hover in the air make both boys drowsy, their minds processing, almost as if they are even just slightly intoxicated from the steam that fills their lavish bathroom. As Dream's chest rises, George's lifts as well, breaths synchronized just like their hearts.
George leans his head back, so that his mouth brushes against Dream's ear, "I love you, Dream."
The blush that blossoms into Dream's cheeks is undeniably affectionate, fueled not from the fever of the water, but by his indisputable tenderness for the pretty boy laying, pressing closer, back into him. He never wants to leave.
George returns his head to his foreword positioning, smirking at his rare and daring remark, the words so scarce at the beginning of their relationship that every time they leave his lips, it's like a siren's song to Dream's ears, pulling him in, making him fall deeper and deeper each time.
"I love you too, George." Dream smiles. He feels selfish. He gets to have all of George... all to himself. Nothing can compare to the moments they share; the deep root of their friendship beneath it all spread and evolved into what they are now.
Dream doesn't mind being selfish, though. In fact, he revels in it, gently bringing his head forward and tilting his chin down, just to brush his lips, feather-light, against the backside of George's left shoulder. George lets out a faint sigh, pleased with Dream as he leisurely graces them up the side of George's neck, sending wonderful tingly sensations through George's upper body and down into his lower abdomen.
Dream slowly unclasps his hands from their hold around George's chest and gently places them on his sides, running them up and down, in and out of the water, making it trickle of his hands and down the sides of George's chest. Dream resumes his carefully placed kisses on George's neck, starting light, just like he did with the teasing of his lips. George tips his chin back slightly, a calm satisfaction that brings him to be more relaxed, letting himself and his consciousness wander.
Dream moved his hands, still on either side of George, so that his right rests on George's stomach, and his left slides in-between George's torso and arm, to come up, cross George's chest, and cup the smaller boy's cheek, turning his head to face his own.
He gently bumps their noses together, both of them closing their eyes and melting in the contentment of the moment, everything around them slipping away like they're the only two people in the world, the only two who could ever matter.
The scent of vanilla soap and cinnamon candles hovers in the air. They breathe it in, almost as if they are not two separate beings, but two people so close they could not possibly do anything apart.
After what seems like an eternity, figures still, held at that moment in time, Dream finally connects their lips. It's plain... and sweet... but it's perfect.
They pull apart, George's neck still turned to the side. His expression looks... lost... but in the best way possible. He looks at Dream like one looks at a special treasure, the value out of it out of comprehension. He's a gift to George, a gift that means so much to him, he doesn't know what he could have ever done to deserve it.
