Little Talks | DNF oneshot

Little Talks

Antarctica was cold. That was a fact plain and simple, one Dream was sure that he had learned back in first grade. You just don't realize how cold that was until you're there.

Luckily Dream had found a distraction from the cold as George stretched up slightly to shove one of his bags into the overhead compartment. His waist was hugged tightly by snow pants and his torso was highlighted by a dark shirt.

Dream simply snapped a picture, and made a comment to Chandler, George huffed a laugh, and they all went on with their plane ride. He couldn't stop thinking about what would've happened if they were in private. Maybe he could've put his hands around George's waist and pulled him closer and then–No. They were friends. Even through all the jokes, they were just friends… just friends for now.

—

Dream hadn't stopped thinking about it since. He didn't even need to look at the picture, he nearly had it memorized. Every angle and curve of George's body. He didn't want to, but he wasn't going to argue against it. Anything to make the cold just a little more bearable. The fact that he was teamed up with George didn't help to stop him either. He found his eyes lingering on George, imagining his body even under the layers of coats he wore to fight against the cold.

The challenge wasn't too hard. Well, it didn't start out so hard. Everyone was split up into pairs and sent 5 miles apart. Whoever lasted the longest without giving up won, George and Dream were one of the last three and things were heating up. The only catch is that they lost the space heaters in their tents as the days went on.

Dream and George were down to 4 heaters and as midnight rolled around they had retreated to their tent. The sun still shone outside, as it had been the past few days straight, but a day of activity had taken its toll on the two men. He was at least glad that their tent was opaque enough to give the illusion of night.

"Do you think anyone else is going to give up, because I'm pretty sure this is actually hell," Dream sighed as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Us, we could," George mumbled, his voice muffled by his pillow.

"Nah," Dream sighed, opening his eyes to look George over. The other man was stretched out, having discarded his coat which left him in nearly the same outfit from that day on the plane. The only difference was the snow pants being switched for black sweatpants. Dream wished that he could reach out and touch him, but he didn't.

"You're going to let us freeze to death for money?" George asked, voice just nearly edging on a whine, rolling over to look at Dream and propping his head up in his hand.

Dream huffed, rolling his eyes and frowning slightly. "It's not about the money, it's about winning," He said, his head turned to look at George. His eyes didn't just stay on the brunette's face as they skimmed down over the man's body, stretched out over the many blankets they had piled up on and between their air mattresses.

"Oh my god," George huffed, flopping onto his back rather dramatically, "You're so stupid."

"Whatever," Dream huffed, taking a similar pose to the one that George had just abandoned. Though he didn't hold it for long and simply returned to lying on his back. He needed to stop thinking about George in such a dirty way.

The cold was lesser now, now that those thoughts started to cloud his mind. Apparently, the hazy thoughts made his filter disappear, because after barely a moment of silence he spoke up. "You looked nice in that outfit at least," He said, eyes on the ceiling of the tent.

There was silence and when he looked over George was covering his face with his hands, though his ears very obviously were red. Dream looked away and sputtered out a quick 'shit sorry'.