that little feeling

when the sun is sleeping

Little George is afraid of the dark, but Dream makes everything okay.

—

[10:53 pm]

The door opens and a sniffling George bumbles in, hurrying over to the bed and crawling into Dream's arms with a whimper.

Despite feeling puzzled at the boy's teary entry, Dream does not hesitate to hold him tightly. "Hey," he mumbles into shower-damp hair, placing a kiss into it. "Why are you crying, baby?" He continues with the same worried lilt, but George just snuggles closer instead of replying.

Dream's hands rub up and down the boy's back in an attempt to soothe him and calm his crying. "Don't be sad, darling," he consoles patiently. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

After a few long moments of gentle backrubs, George's sniffles subside and he eventually untucks his face from Dream's chest to look up at the blond with sad eyes. "Sun is gone, papa," he whimpers quietly, fingers fidgeting with a hoodie string.

Sun is gone? Dream furrows his brows and tries to interpret what in the world that could mean, but lands on nothing. "What do you mean, honey?" He inquires gently, careful not to overwhelm the boy or make him feel misunderstood.

"Too dark outside," George continues and something clicks in Dream's mind. No sun = dark.

Breathing a sigh of relief that his reason for distress is solvable, he hugs the brunet close and explains. "It's nighttime now, baby. The sun is sleeping, just like you—" he pokes George's nose, "should be."

The brunet shies away from his hand and frowns. "No," he decides and rubs his face into Dream's sleeve to wipe away his tears.

Dream chuckles at the boy's quick switch-up — crying about the dark one second and refusing bedtime the next. "No?" He questions through a stifled laugh, "I think you should sleep. I think baby is very tired."

George shakes his head profusely. "I'm not ti'ed," he sounds so certain until a big yawn slips from his mouth proving otherwise.

"Georgie," Dream says softly, drawing out the vowels. "Look at me," he places a finger underneath the boy's chin and tilts his face up. George looks tired and his gaze is clouded by old tears and a docile headspace. "Are you feeling sleepy?" Dream coaxes, earning another headshake in response, a little weaker than the last.

"Aw, baby." The blond holds around him securely and tangles their legs together under the covers. "You can sleep here, okay?" He murmurs into his hair, leaving a few kisses for good measure.

"Don' leave," George mumbles before drifting off into sunny dreams.

"I won't, darling."

—

George wakes up in the same position that he fell asleep in, except somehow even closer to the blond than the night before. He takes a minute to figure out where Dream's body ends and his own begins, opening and closing his fists to regain some sense of feeling.

Dream notices the stirring from the boy on top of him and drops his phone to brush his fingers through brown hair, messy from the night. "How are you feeling?" He asks quietly.

George slides himself up so his face settles into the crook of the blond's neck. "Fuzzy. Everything is moving slowly," the sound of his voice is hushed and soft with remnants of sleep, his mind not quite in or out of regression — just swimming on the edge.

"That's okay," Dream reassures him, fully aware of the push and pull that is currently happening in the boy's brain. And he secretly hopes that little space will win so he can have George close all day.

"Da—I mean Dream," he blushes and is quick to correct himself, though both of them know what the younger part of him was really trying to say.

Dream just smiles and continues massaging his hair. "Yeah, baby?" The pet name comes out naturally, and it sounds so right.

George shakes his head to try and halt the soft headspace that is fast approaching, even though part of him longs for that comfort to envelop him.

"Stop, you'll make me slip," he mutters weakly, hand reaching out in search for a big hand somewhere under the covers. He finds it and gives it a squeeze as if to say don't stop.

Dream smiles and squeezes back. "My little boy," he coos sweetly. "Just relax, baby. I've got you." George shuts his eyes and sinks into Dream's chest, allowing his cloudy mind to envelop him completely.

It only takes a minute for him to be fully regressed and sighing happily while fiddling with blond curls. Dream's heart tightens with love, and he smiles wide when a slightly dazed George looks up at him with big eyes and an adorable smile painted on his lips.

"Hi," the blond beams down at him, earning a giggle from the other and a small tug on his hair. "Oh, was that funny?" He teases and squeezes George's sides to make him laugh more.

Dream laughs too and slips a hand under the boy's sleep-warm hoodie to tickle his belly, reveling in how George's giggles get progressively louder and the way he squirms around like a kitten in the sun.

"You're so cute," he says, his words dripping with affection. So much so that they make George's cheeks flush a coral pink.

Dream chuckles and lets him snuggle into his chest, bashful as always. "Alright baby, I won't say it anymore. But I mean it."

They relax in the quiet for a bit, just soaking up the warmth of the bed and each other.

"You know, the sun is back up now, honey." Dream pipes up eventually, adjusting his arms a bit. "Remember what you said last night?"

George nods, "And papa said it went to bed."

"That's right," he smiles, "and now it's awake again so it's not dark out anymore."

"We go see?" George's excitement is impossible to dismiss, especially by someone as head-over-heels for the boy as Dream is.

He places a gentle kiss on each of the boy's rosy cheeks, plus one on the tip of his nose, "Yeah, let's go see the sun, baby."

—

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