midnight love

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"I feel like I'm going to crash," Punz murmurs, snug against his boyfriend's side. Their limbs are entangled and have been for a while, something George has noticed that makes a smile spread across his face.

George feels the same—fatigue resting heavy in his eyelids and causing them to droop. The TV flashes all kinds of colors, showcasing different scenes from the silent movie playing. None of them are actually paying it any mind.

"Then sleep," Dream replies in a voice just as soft, pressing a light kiss to the crown of Punz's head.

The brunet smiles all the same; he's always admired Punz and Dream's relationship. They're good for each other, and they always have been.

Punz makes a soft noise in response, eyes fluttering shut as his whole body relaxes into Dream's side like putty. Dream's soft smile is small, reserved. Just looking at it has George wanting to turn away, like he's witnessing a moment he—an outsider, their friend—should not be included in.

And so they all subconsciously and silently decide that it's time for them to call it quits and sleep. The TV is shut off without much thought, and then George is curling into the armchair he's sleeping in, tugging his blanket over his shoulders to keep himself warm.

He lays like that for a while, falling in and out of a daze that doesn't quite reach a steady sleep. It confuses him and frustrates him; if he was just tired out of his mind, why can't he get to sleep?

He's unsure how long he lays like that, frustration ebbing away at his insides. All he does know is that it's dead silent, with nothing but slight shuffling happening a few feet away from the couple who snuggle up against one another. He picks at a loose thread on his blanket, eyes still shut, and irritation still meddled into his brain.

It's when a soft voice starts speaking, that George tenses up.

"What's wrong, baby?"

It's Dream, George can pick out his voice from pretty much anywhere. George frowns, eyebrows knitting together. One eye peaks open, and through the darkness he can make out Dream sitting half up, one hand resting on Punz's cheek to tip his head up. The blond seems bashful, eyes downcasted purposefully.

"Nothing..." he whispers, voice hardly audible. George has to strain his ears in order to hear the singular word.

"Oh, come on," Dream chuckles, tipping his head to the side. Punz glances up for a split second. "You can tell me."

Punz hums, the sound deep and rumbly in his throat, yet still quiet. One of his hands moves under the blanket draped over their bodies, and then he's scooting closer to Dream. He exhales shakily, lips brushing against the shell of Dream's ear as he mumbles, "Want you..."

George's breath catches and dissipates in his throat, as well as the remaining air in his lungs. His face flushes at the sentence, knowing full well that this is not something he needs to be witnessing nor listening to, yet here he is, staring at them both through thick lashes and heavy eyelids.

Dream smiles, moving his hand up the side of Punz's face to brush his blond hair back. Punz has a slight pout spread across his lips as he blinks innocently up to the dirty blond.

"Punz," Dream giggles. Punz lowers his head and wraps his arms around Dream's shoulders. He rests his temple against the taller man's shoulder, facing away from George. Dream kisses his head softly, stroking his hair soothingly. "George is, like, five feet away."

Punz whimpers, the sound bringing an unexpected bout of heat to the space between George's legs. He shifts slightly, stilling as there's more shuffling from where the other two are as Dream tugs Punz impossibly closer. His hand moves beneath the blanket, and something indescribable flashes across deep emerald eyes.